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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:17:21 -0700 |
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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844 + Volume 23, Number 6 + +Author: Various + +Editor: Lewis Gaylord Clark + +Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div id="masthead"> + <h1 class="issue_title"><a class="pagenum" id="page511" title="511"> </a>THE KNICKERBOCKER.</h1> + <div id="mastdate"> + <p id="leftmast">Vol. <abbr title="23">XXIII.</abbr></p> + <p id="centermast">June, 1844.</p> + <p id="rightmast"><abbr title="number">No.</abbr> 6.</p> + </div> +</div><!--Masthead--> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.</h2> + <p class="byline">BY AN EYE-WITNESS.</p> +<p><span class="first_word">In</span> 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople, +sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of +the plague to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated +from the Turkish part of the population of that immense city. +It is not material to the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my +previous life, or the causes which had induced me to visit the capital of +the East at such a period of mortality; and I will therefore only add, +that circumstances of a peculiarly painful nature obliged me to locate +myself in Galata, where there were none to sympathize in my feelings, +or any one with whom I could even exchange more than a word of conversation. +I saw none but the widowed owner of the house in which I +had a chamber, her daughter Aleukâ, and Petraki, her little son.</p> + +<p>While the epidemic raged, we four endeavored to keep up a rigid +quarantine. Each recommended to the other the strictest observance of +our mutual agreement not to receive any thing from without doors, except +the necessaries of life; and whenever we left the house, which was +to be as seldom as possible, not to come in contact with any one. Whenever +I went out I invariably wore an oil-cloth cloak, and by the aid of +my cane prevented the dogs of the streets, which are there so numerous, +from rubbing against me. If I visited any one, which I seldom did, I +always sat on a bench or chair to prevent conveying or receiving contagion; +and before even entering the house, I always underwent the +preparation of being smoked in a box, which during the prevalence of +the plague is placed near its entrance for that purpose. These boxes +were some eight feet high by three square, the platform on which the +feet rested elevated about a foot above the earth, so as to admit under it +a dish containing the ingredients of the prophylactic, and a hole in the +door to let the face out during the smoking of the clothes and body. +We procured our daily supply of provisions from a <em>Bak-kal</em>, a retail +grocer, whose shop was directly under our front window; an itinerant +<em>Ekmekjer</em>, or bread-man, brought our bread to the door; our vegetables +were procured from a gardener close by, and our water we drew from a +<a class="pagenum" id="page512" title="512"> </a>cistern under the house: in fine, our food was either smoked or saturated +before we touched it, and every possible precaution observed to cut our +little family off from the dreadful scourge, ‘the pestilence which walketh +in darkness and the destruction which wasteth at noon day.’ The mother +and daughter throughout the day spun silk, knitted woolen suits, or +embroidered kerchiefs for head dresses, called in Romaic <em>fakiolee</em>, and +even to a late hour of the night they frequently continued the same employment, +until the plague prevented the sale of their handiwork, and +their materials were all used up. All day long they would sit upon +the sofa of their little apartment, facing the street, and while their hands +toiled for a subsistence, the widow’s daughter hummed a plaintive air, +or occasionally broke the silence by conversing with her mother. The +son was yet too young to be of assistance to his desolate mother and +sister, and except when he said his letters to them, spent the day in idleness. +As to my own employment, the dull period of time passed with +them was a blank in my existence; and yet, such is the influence of +past penury and pain, that I now recall them with pleasure.</p> + +<p>The weather was generally very warm, and south-west breezes over +the sea of Marmora prevailed. From our highest windows we could +observe sluggish seamen lounging on the decks of their vessels in the +port, afraid to land amid the pestilence. Here and there a vessel strove +against the current of the Bosphorus to gain an anchorage; or would +slowly float down that stream into the open sea, on its way to healthier +and happier Europe. The starving dogs at nightfall would howl dismally, +bewailing the loss of the benevolent hands from which they +usually received their food; the gulls and cormorants floated languidly +over our dwelling, overpowered by the heat; and the dead silence, which +in the afternoon and evenings prevailed, made a most melancholy and +affecting impression on my mind.</p> + +<p>The plague that summer, (I may limit the period to three months,) +carried off more than fifty thousand persons. For some time the mortality +amounted to a thousand <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">per diem</em>. The number of corpses which +passed the limited range of my window daily increased; and after witnessing +the spectacle for some time, I always insensibly avoided the sight +of the dead, and felt a cold shudder run over my frame whenever the +voice of the priest accompanying the corpses struck my ear. So dreadful +is the malady, so surely contagious, and so mortal, that so soon as +attacked, the unfortunate being is deserted by relatives and friends, and +when dead, two or four porters beside a priest were generally the only +persons who attended the body to the grave. When the deceased is a +Mussulman, he is more frequently attended during his illness, and after +death to his tomb, than if a Christian. With the former, the plague is +a visitation of Providence, from which it is both useless and a sin to +escape, while with the latter not only is it deemed necessary to provide +for one’s own life, but even to do so at the sacrifice of the dearest friend. +Often I noticed a dead body tied on a plank which a single porter carried +on his back; at other times the object would be concealed within a bag, +and then the grave was a ditch common to all, into which the porter +would shake off his load and return for another. No priest or Imam +there presided over the funeral scene; few or none were the prayers +<a class="pagenum" id="page513" title="513"> </a>that were said over the remains: he who but a short week before had +been proud of his strength or condition, or she who in the same short +space of time previous excelled in beauty and grace, there lay confounded +in one neglected, unhonored, and putrefying mass. The air +became impregnated with the effluvia; the houses around the Turkish +cemeteries, which are mostly in the heart of the city, where the dead +are interred, but some three feet beneath the surface, were soon deserted, +their owners dead. The ever-green cypress trees under whose umbrageous +quiet the beautiful children once played, now moaned over +their little graves; and in fine, every one in the deserted city walked +with measured steps, apprehensive of threatening death: awe and consternation +filled the minds of all.</p> + +<p>The Sultan’s own household was not free from the scourge. By some +means it found access to his servants and carried off about fifty of them. +Their bodies were cast into the Bosphorus, and the Sultan fled to another +palace. The ministers of the Sublime Porte suffered severely in their +families; their wives and slaves died off in numbers; and even the minister +of foreign affairs is said to have taken it and narrowly escaped. +Few survived when once attacked, and the chances of recovery were +scarcely worth calculating. And yet among the Mussulmans little or +no precaution was taken; for although by a government order all the +principal offices were provided with fumigatory boxes, they were seldom +used. The Mussulman Sheiks declared that the contagion came from +Heaven, and could only be averted by Almighty power. Yet it was a +well-known fact that cleanliness of habits went far toward preserving +against the disease; and frequent change of apparel, with ordinary precautions, +sufficed to preserve many who otherwise would doubtless have +taken it.</p> + +<p>But I think the reader will be able, from the preceding sketch, to +form some idea of the nature and extent of the mortality of the plague +in 1837. While it raged, every feeling approaching to a similarity with +what is known to denote an attack, excites apprehension. A pimple, +through the medium of the imagination, is transformed into a horrid +<em>bubo</em>; a cold or a simple head-ache, however trifling, are attributed to +the dreaded malady; and even the firmest mind at such times quails +under trifling appearances. In some cases the scene of agony closes in +a few hours—even minutes; they fall down and almost immediately +expire. Others linger for twenty-four or forty-eight hours, or several +days elapse before death puts an end to their sufferings. Some again +bear it in their systems for several days, and attend to their usual occupations: +at length it appears, they fall ill and expire, or recover. Few +account for their being attacked; they do not remember having touched +any one suspected or exposed; and again, the porters, whose duty it is +to convey the attacked to the hospitals and the corpses to their graves, +escape. The mother attends upon her dying child, sacrifices every apprehension +to her affection, and yet escapes, or the child brings it to its +parent, who dies, while the innocent cause survives. No cure has yet +been found for it; and Nature must be left to take her course. Extreme +heat or cold have a favorable effect upon it; but the temperate climate +of Constantinople, with the frequent dearth of water, the dust, and other +impurities, tend greatly to its dissemination.</p> + +<p><a class="pagenum" id="page514" title="514"> </a>It was therefore during this painful period that I resided in Galata; +free, as I had hoped, from the contagion; and yet it found its way into +our little family, accompanied by all its horrors.</p> + +<p>One morning in the latter part of the month of October, invited by the +clearness of the air and a fresh breeze which had scarcely strength sufficient +to ruffle the water of the harbor, I left my humble apartment and +ascended the steep hill of Pera. The view—from the small tuft of graves +near the Galata tower, some of which were fresh; of the surrounding +villages and the great city itself, where, although devastation had been +and still was being carried on with horror, there seemed to reign the +most perfect tranquility, resembling the calm bosom of the treacherous +sea, quiet over the lifeless bodies of its victims and the wreck of the +noble vessels which had furrowed its surface—relieved the monotony of +my existence. I gazed longingly upon the many ships lying before +me at anchor in the stream, which could in a few days bear me far +away from the scenes of death and desolation that surrounded me; or +I exchanged a word with any passing acquaintance who ventured from +Pera to his counting-house in Galata. A longer walk gave rise to too +many sad reflections. Farther on was the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Petit Champ des Morts</em>, a +small Turkish cemetery, here and there spotted with new-made graves, +over which more than one aged female mourned the loss of her life’s +companion, or perhaps it would be one of fewer years, who wept the +fatal destiny of her young husband, brother, sister, or child.</p> + +<p>After spending the best part of the day in walking about, I returned +to the house of my residence. As usual, I found the door fastened; I +knocked, but no one answered me. Again I knocked, and called repeatedly +before my voice was heard. At length a low moan, and then a +scream, issued from within. Petraki, the widow’s son, opened the door, +and with a pale and frightened countenance told me his mother had suddenly +been taken very ill. There was no alternative. I entered her +sitting-room, where in the company of the family I had spent many +quiet hours. Now how changed! The mother lay upon the sofa, pale; +and breathing with difficulty. Aleukâ, the daughter, knelt by her side +on the floor, though greatly agitated herself, and endeavoring to calm +her mother’s apprehensions. Without once reflecting on the possible +consequences, I sat down on a chair beside the sufferer, felt her pulse, +and as well as I could, made inquiries after her health. Her pulse was +quick, her tongue white and thickly furred, and extreme lassitude was +shown by her dejected countenance. Uncertain as to the nature of her +disease, and unable to offer any alleviation of her sufferings, I retired to +my apartment. There I <em>did</em> reflect on the danger which I had incurred, +and the possibility of the widow having caught the plague.</p> + +<p>Every hour she became worse; her sufferings were intensely painful; +and to shorten the recital of the sad scene of that night, I will only add, +that the horrid disease showed itself on her person before midnight, and +at break of day her spirit fled. Of course my mind now prepared for +death. I felt confident that I also should soon be a victim to the plague. +Early in the morning I called a passing priest and had the widow’s remains +conveyed to their last abode—I knew not where. I had no place +to fly to; every door would be closed against me; and I retired to my +<a class="pagenum" id="page515" title="515"> </a>apartment, feeling that I was stepping into my tomb while yet alive. +There I was not long kept in suspense, for soon the plague attacked +first Petraki then myself. When giddiness, the first symptom of the +plague, seized me, and I could no longer stand, but fell despairingly on +my bed, what were my feelings! But let me not recall them <em>now</em>; the +mental agony which I suffered it is impossible to describe, and I shudder +at the recollection. Aleukâ attended upon me and her brother with all +the tenderness and care and forgetfulness of self which is so characteristic +of the female character. I begged her to leave me to die alone, to +place water by my side and depart, but she would not hear of it.</p> + +<p>The first night after his attack Petraki expired, and on the following +morning was borne away; and I have an indistinct recollection of being +visited on the evening of the same day by the priest and porters. They +endeavored to prevail upon Aleukâ to desert me, saying that in a few +hours I would cease to exist. But she constantly refused, determined +she replied, to remain by my side until my sufferings were ended.</p> + +<p class="prose_break">·····</p> + +<p>For several days I was delirious. I remember I knew of nothing; +nothing but water passed my lips. Sores broke out over my body, and +those on my groins and arm-pits were not closed for some months. My +neck however was free, and this no doubt saved my life. On the seventh +day I regained my senses, and found myself in my apartment, the wasted +figure of my guardian angel still watching over me. I remember, on +perceiving in me a favorable change, how her countenance was lit up +with joy! Oh, Friendship! how seldom are you found with the sincerity +which I then beheld in an humble and uneducated girl! Just +when I thought all my prospects in life were blighted; when I had keenly +felt the unkindness of mankind, and despaired of ever again finding +any thing in this world worth living for; when I had already bidden it +farewell, and the other world was full in view; I found what alone can +make life delightful even in poverty and misfortune—friendship and +love. Soon the violence of the disease abated, and I was saved.</p> + +<p>I must hastily pass over my long and painful convalescence. A +month elapsed before I could venture to go beyond doors. Aleukâ attended +upon me, and through her economy my purse yet held out. The +plague had greatly subsided; the month of December set in with uncommon +severity of cold, and checked its progress. Oh! the exquisite +delight with which I left my hard and burning bed and close apartment, +the scenes of all my sufferings, for the first time! With a prayer of +thankfulness on my lips, I crossed the threshold of the humble dwelling, +and once more slowly mounted the steep hill of Pera.</p> + +<p>It was a bright, sunny, clear morning; the fresh, cool breeze from +the Black Sea blew over me, infusing new strength and life into my +shattered frame. The streets were again re-peopled, and business renewed. +No one recognized me in my pale, haggard and swollen countenance; +and when I presented myself at the door of a countryman in +Pera, he drew back with an exclamation of surprise, as if he had beheld +a spirit.</p> + +<p>My short story is told. I have comprised in a few words the tale of +many long days of agony and suffering, both mental and corporeal. I +<a class="pagenum" id="page516" title="516"> </a>fast regained my strength and vigor; the hollow furrows of my forehead +and cheeks soon gave way to the effects of a generous diet; and I once +more stood forth in health and full powers.</p> + +<p>But you will ask, ‘And where is she who watched over you during +your moments of suffering?—whom you called your guardian angel, +and of whose friendship and love you spoke in such feeling terms?’ I +reply, that she sits even now at my side; her handsome and intelligent +countenance reading in my face the varied emotions to which the tracing +of these lines give rise. Devoted Aleukâ is my loving and much-loved +wife.</p> + +<p class="sign"><span class="author">J. P. B.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">A SONG</h2> + <p class="byline">BY JOHN WATERS.</p> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Time</span> was I thought that precious name</p> + <p class="i2">Less meet for Court than Alley;</p> + <p>But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,</p> + <p class="i2">No clarion note, like <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There seems at first, within the word,</p> + <p class="i2">Some cause to smile, or rally;</p> + <p>But once by her sweet glance preferr’d,</p> + <p class="i2">Ev’n Heaven itself loves <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The world moves round when move her Eyes,</p> + <p class="i2">Grace o’er each step doth dally,</p> + <p>The breath is lost in glad surprize;</p> + <p class="i2">There is no belle, like <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,</p> + <p class="i2">Time stops, his Glass to rally;</p> + <p>I hardly know what I’m about—</p> + <p class="i2">When lost in thought on <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Sometimes she’s small, sometimes she’s tall,</p> + <p class="i2">I can’t tell how, vocally;</p> + <p>For there’s a spirit over all,</p> + <p class="i2">That beams abroad from <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>A spirit bright, a beam of light,</p> + <p class="i2">Ah! fear not that I rally—</p> + <p>No man can Evil think in sight</p> + <p class="i2">Of this pure-hearted <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And yet Time was, I thought the name</p> + <p class="i2">For Court less fit, than Alley;</p> + <p>While now, no herald sound hath Fame,</p> + <p class="i2">No clarion note, but <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p> + </div> + </div> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page517" title="517"> </a>REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.</h2> + + <p class="subtitle">NUMBER THREE.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">Under</span> the circumstances related in my last number, it will readily + be inferred that sleep was out of the question. The only alternative + was to sit or lie down and meditate upon the next change which might + befal us. There was but little disposition for merriment at such a time + and place; yet there was one man, named John Young, but called by + his companions ‘Old John Young,’ who in despite of empty stomach and + aching limbs, amused himself and annoyed all others by singing a line + of one and a verse of another, of all the old songs he could recollect + from his earliest boyhood; dispensing his croaking melody with such + untiring zeal as to keep the most weary awake had they been inclined + to sleep.</p> + + <p>At break of day we began to try to move about, and gradually + straighten ourselves, which was something of an effort, stiffened and benumbed + as we were with remaining in our wet clothing so many hours. + We had now an opportunity of examining our habitation. It was a + building of about four hundred feet long, by seventy-five or eighty wide, + three stories high, and built of stone, with massive doors and strongly-grated + windows, the floors being of stone or cement, and perfectly fire-proof. + Each floor formed one entire room, except being divided by five + rows of posts running the whole length of the building, by which the + prisoners slung their hammocks. The prisoners were divided off in + ‘messes’ or families of six or eight, each occupying room sufficient to + sit around one of their chests, which usually served as a mess-table. + One row or tier of these messes were ranged next to the walls on each + side, and two rows down the centre, back to back, as it were, leaving two + avenues, or thoroughfares, the whole length of the building. The entire + arrangement resembled the stalls in a stable, more than any thing + else I can compare it to.</p> + + <p>There were seven of these prisons, all of about the same size and + construction, one of which was not occupied. The whole was enclosed + in a circular wall of about twenty feet high, and covering a space of + from eight to ten acres of ground. This was divided in three parts by + a wall similar to the outside one. The centre yard was occupied by + No. 7, allotted to the colored prisoners, and the other two yards had + three prisons in each. On the outside wall were platforms and sentry-boxes + at short distances, for the guards. About fifteen feet within that + wall was a high iron railing. In front of the main entrance was a large + square, used for drilling soldiers and other purposes, and twice a week + as a market for the country people; and on each side of this were the + barracks and hospital, and in front of these were the officers’ quarters. + This dépôt was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a vast common of + many miles in extent, without a bush or tree to relieve the dreary waste; + <a class="pagenum" id="page518" title="518"> </a>and from its elevated position it was generally shrouded by clouds, + rendering it chilly and uncomfortable the greater part of the year.</p> + + <p>The daily allowance of food consisted of a pound of beef, a pint of + soup, and a pound of bread to each man; that is to say, at the rate of + one hundred pounds of raw beef to an hundred men. The meat was + cut up and put into large boilers, with sufficient barley to thicken it for + soup. This was boiled until the meat would leave the bone, and the + barley was well cooked; and when ready, was served up to the different + messes. By the time each person got his beef it was almost too small to + be seen, being shrunk up by long boiling; and the bone being taken + out, it was no larger than a small-sized tea-cup. The pound of bread + was not much larger: it was made of barley, slack-baked, and very + dark, though sweet. Indeed it was good enough, what there was of it. + On Fridays the fare was varied by the same amount in fish and potatoes.</p> + + <p>As some require more nutriment than others, the same quantity of + fare did not satisfy all the prisoners alike. I frequently saw many of + them devour their day’s allowance at one meal without appeasing their + hunger; and before the next day’s rations were served out, they would + be almost frantic from starvation. Some became so exhausted that they + were compelled to go to the hospital until they recovered strength. + Those who possessed a little money fared somewhat better, as they + could indulge in the luxury of bullock’s liver, fried in water for the + want of fat, or a hot pumgudgeon fried in the same material. This exquisite + dish is not appreciated according to its merits. It commonly + bears the undignified title of ‘codfish-balls;’ and is well known at the + present day among our eastern brethren, though not held in the same + veneration by them as clam-chowder. ‘Dartmoor pippins,’ or potatoes, + were also held in high estimation with us.</p> + + <p>Dartmoor prison was a world in miniature, with all its jealousies, envyings + and strife. How shall I describe the scenes enacted within its + walls? how portray the character of its inhabitants? If I but held the + pen of <span class="special_name">Dickens</span> or the pencil of <span class="special_name">Mount</span>, I might hope so to bring the objects + before the mind’s eye of the reader, that they would stand forth in + full relief, inducing him almost to imagine that he stood in their midst. + Though many years have rolled by since those events occurred, they + still linger in my memory like the vivid scenes of a high-wrought drama; + and often in the ‘dead waste and middle of the night’ do I revisit + in my dreams scenes which I should be sorry to survey when awake.</p> + + <p>I think it one of the greatest blessings granted by an all-wise and benevolent + <span class="special_name">Creator</span>, that He has bestowed upon man an intellectual and + physical capacity, which enables him to pass in comparative happiness + many a lonely hour. Many were the aërial maps and charts laid down + for our future journeyings through life, and plans formed, which were + never to be realized. And perhaps all was for the best; for we are all + creatures of circumstance. Not one in a thousand follows out his + plans through life. Half of our existence is imaginary; and wise-acres + may scoff as much as they please at what they term ‘castle-building,’ + I believe all mankind indulge in it more or less; and it is an + innocent, harmless pastime, which injures no one. I consider it the ‘unwritten + <a class="pagenum" id="page519" title="519"> </a>poetry,’ the romance of life, which all feel; but many, like the + dumb, strive in vain to give utterance to their thoughts.</p> + + <p>Many of the prisoners busied themselves in making some trifling article, + which, while it afforded amusement, aided in obtaining for them a + little money, and thereby added to their comfort. Many of the most ingenious + specimens of art I ever saw were made there; some of which + were models of vessels, of various classes, from the clipper-built brig to + the line-of-battle ship; made too of beef bones, obtained from the cook. + They were built up precisely like a large vessel; human hair twisted + into ropes of suitable sizes being employed for rigging. When completed, + they made a beautiful toy. Desks, work-boxes, etc., were also + made here; violins, some of which were of excellent tone, were likewise + constructed. But it would be useless to enumerate the endless variety + of queer things made at this multifarious manufactory. Some organized + a music-society, with various instruments, and used occasionally to + give concerts; others got up a theatre, screening it off with bed covering. + I recollect some pretty good performances among them. In short, + all were employed in some way, to divert their minds from the contemplation + of their miserable condition. Some would read while others listened; + some practice fencing; some sing, some dance. Others would + relate their adventures, many of which savored rather too strongly of the + marvellous to be readily believed, while others partook in an equal degree + of the ludicrous. One of these latter was related by ‘Old John + Young’—a tale of his early courtship. In his youthful days he lived + somewhere in Pennsylvania, where also resided an old farmer, with his + wife and two daughters, one of whom, contrary to the old gentleman’s + wishes, he used to visit. One night while there, unknown to the old + people, they having retired, a huge pot of mush was left boiling over the + fire, getting ready for the next day. Late in the evening the old gentleman + called out for the girls to go to bed; and as they did not retire + in time to suit him, he began to stir round, to see why his orders were + not obeyed. Young, hearing him coming, took off his shoes to prevent + a noise, and glided silently up a ladder into the loft above. The old + farmer, having sent the girls to bed, lifted off the boiling pot, which by + accident he placed at the foot of the ladder; then putting out the light, + and covering the fire, he retired again to bed. When all was still and + quiet, Young, with shoes in hand, stole down the ladder, and landed in + the pot! Although badly burned, he escaped in some degree by having + his stockings on. He left his tracks on the floor, but got out of the house + unobserved. He had ‘put his foot in it’ in good earnest; and mounting + his horse, he bade a final adieu to the old farmer and his family.</p> + + <p>Winter was now pretty well advanced, and many suffered for the + want of clothing. After considerable delay, however, a small portion + was sparingly dealt out, but was accepted by those only who stood in + the utmost need. The cause was, that the agent or contractor, having + a quantity of garments on hand, over what had been a sufficient supply + for some English convicts, who had been confined here at some former + period, they were now offered to us, but were rejected by all who could do + without them. Those who did receive them, cut a curious figure! I + can almost imagine one standing before me now, dressed in a jacket and + <a class="pagenum" id="page520" title="520"> </a>trowsers of bright yellow cloth; and as they were served out indiscriminately, + the consequence was, that large stalwart men were crammed + into trowsers which looked more like breeches, and jackets with sleeves + terminating at the elbows; and small men with jackets, the sleeves of + which dangled far below the hands, and an extra length of pantaloons + turned up to the knees; the whole figure surmounted by a knit-woollen + cap, resembling an inverted wash-basin; coarse brogans completed the + costume. Just pause a moment, reader, and contemplate the figure!</p> + + <p>What with starving and freezing, many became ill, and had to be + removed to the hospital. This was what all dreaded; and the consequence + was, they were so far gone before they went, that they survived + but a short time after getting there, although it was understood that the + physician was a skilful and humane man, and did all in his power to + alleviate their distress. I was taken very ill with the dysentery. I + know of no disease which brings a man down more rapidly. Two or + three days weakened me so much that I could scarcely move; and with + it came a despondency of mind that was almost insupportable. I had + been for years a wayfarer in strange lands, but never, during the whole + time, did I so forcibly feel the want of a home, and the solace and care + of friends, as now. How did I long to be once more under my father’s + roof, with an affectionate mother and kind sister! I had a sad forboding + that I should soon be numbered among the multitude whose spirits + had ascended from their prison-house, and whose bodies were deposited + outside the walls, in the ground assigned for that purpose.</p> + + <p>The small-pox had also appeared in our midst, spreading havoc on + all sides; and despair seemed to rule triumphant. Of those who left for + the hospital, but few returned to their comrades. Among those taken + ill, was a young man who had been brought up on a farm. Like + many others, he had left home to ‘go a-privateering,’ and was taken + prisoner. He never saw home again. He messed just opposite to me, + and was I think one of the most exquisite amateur performers on the + violin that I ever heard. For hours have I listened with rapture to his + delightful music. He was absent a day, and his instrument was silent. + The next day I enquired for him; he had been taken suddenly ill, was + removed to the hospital, and the second evening brought me tidings of + his death. There was another one, who had been for weeks sullen and + gloomy. Despair seemed to have thrown its pall over him. He conversed + with none, but shunning his companions, spent the day muttering + to himself. Early one morning he was discovered in a secluded part + of the prison, cold and stiff. He had hung himself.</p> + + <p>And was there no one to look after the spiritual or temporal welfare + of this mass of isolated beings? Was there none to soothe the troubled + mind, to cheer the drooping spirit, nor to whisper hope in the ear of the + desponding? Was there none of God’s ‘messengers of glad tidings’ to + offer consolation to the dying, and a prayer for mercy on the departing + spirit of his suffering fellow-being? No; not one minister of the gospel, + of any denomination, did I see while I was there; nor did I hear of + any having been there, at any time; nor was there any person to see + that the prisoners had suitable beds and clothing, or that their food was + wholesome, during the many months that I was there. I was told that + <a class="pagenum" id="page521" title="521"> </a><span class="special_name">Reuben G. Beasly</span>, who was appointed by our government, and who received + its pay to see to American interests, had been there some months + before, but had done nothing for them; and to the letters of remonstrance + written to him, stating their wants, their insufficiency of food and clothing, + etc., he turned a deaf ear. He did not deign a reply to them; and + what more could be expected of a man who could be so base as to do + what I will here state?</p> + + <p>About three years ago I met an old ship-mate. We went to India in + the same ship. He held a midshipman’s warrant in the United States’ + navy, and went out on this voyage for practice in seamanship. He was + made prisoner at the same time I was. In the shiftings and changes + which took place, we were separated; and when I saw him, several + years after, he stated that after parting with me he remained in London, + endeavoring in vain to get employment on board some ship; that becoming + destitute, he went to Mr. Beasly, (<em>Beastly</em> it should be,) to get + advice and assistance, stating who and what he was; and that, in consequence + of the unsettled mode of life in which he had been living, he + had unfortunately lost his warrant; and urged him, as an act of humanity, + to point out some method whereby he might help himself. He turned + away from him with indifference, saying he could do nothing for him. + After a lapse of several days, finding no hope of extricating himself + from his embarrassed situation, as a last resource he went once more to + Mr. Beasly, and asked assistance. The reply was: ‘Be off! and if you + trouble me again I will put you on board of an English man-of-war!’ + This gentleman<a href="#footnote_1" id="fnm1" title="Stephen B. Wilson, Esq." class="fnmarker">1</a> is now Lieutenant Commandant in our navy. He + told me he had seen Mr. Beasly not long before, in his official capacity + as consul at Havre, but did not make himself known to him. Is it not + strange, that one who was so regardless of the duties of his office and the + feelings of humanity should hold so lucrative and responsible a situation + as the one which he enjoys to this day? There have been serious + complaints made against him, within a year or two, by several respectable + captains of vessels.</p> + + <p>The number of prisoners on my arrival at the dépôt I understood to + amount to about three thousand; notwithstanding the deaths had gradually + increased, the number was kept good by detachments sent in from + time to time, many of them from English ships of war, who had been + impressed into the service; and although they had frequently asked for + a discharge, they could not get it until the European war had ended, + and there was but little farther use for them. But they obtained their + dismissal, and with it the pay and prize-money due to them at the + time.</p> + + <p>Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought + was soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily + evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought + there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price + was paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years + of the prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were + then dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man + <a class="pagenum" id="page522" title="522"> </a>by the name of <span class="special_name">Slater</span>, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they + like to get hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had + made frequent but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length + when the war broke out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release. + The answer was, ‘Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you + something to remember us by.’ And tying him up, they gave him three + dozen lashes, and sent him to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his + services!</p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">THE SONG OF DEATH.</h2> + + + <div class="poem"> + <h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Silent</span> and swift as the flight of Time,</p> + <p>I’ve come from a far and shadowy clime;</p> + <p>With brow serene and a cloudless eye,</p> + <p>Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;</p> + <p>I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;</p> + <p>Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,</p> + <p>I paused to kiss it in summer’s day,</p> + <p>That when the storm in its strength swept by</p> + <p>It might not be torn from its covert nigh;</p> + <p>I bear its hues on my shining wing,</p> + <p>Its fragrance and light around me cling.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I passed the brow that had learned to wear</p> + <p>The crown of sorrow—the silver hair;</p> + <p>Weary and faint with the woes of life,</p> + <p>The tempest-breath and fever-strife,</p> + <p>The old man welcomed the gentle friend</p> + <p>Who bade the storm and the conflict end.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I looked where the fountains of gladness start,</p> + <p>On the love of the pure and trusting heart;</p> + <p>On the cheek like summer roses fair,</p> + <p>And the changeful light of the waving hair;</p> + <p>Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,</p> + <p>But I saw the shade in the future’s sky.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,</p> + <p>The music fled, and the harp unstrung;</p> + <p>The love intense she had treasured there,</p> + <p>Like fragrance shed on the desert air:</p> + <p>I bore her to deathless love away;</p> + <p>Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">VI.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>I paused by the couch where the poet lay,</p> + <p>Mid fancies bright on their sparing way;</p> + <p>The tide of song in his heaving breast</p> + <p>Flowed strong and free in its deep unrest;</p> + <p>His soul was thirsting for things divine—</p> + <p>I led him far to the sacred shrine.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page523" title="523"> </a>VII.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The sage looked forth on the starry sky,</p> + <p>With aspiring thoughts and visions high,</p> + <p>He sought a gift and a lore sublime</p> + <p>To raise the veil from the shores of Time,</p> + <p>To pierce the clouds o’er the soul that lie;</p> + <p>I bade him soar with a cherub’s eye.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">VIII.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And now, neath my folded wing I bear</p> + <p>A spotless soul like the lily fair;</p> + <p>The babe on its mother’s bosom slept;</p> + <p>Ere I bore it far, I paused and wept;</p> + <p>’Twas an angel strayed from its fairer home:</p> + <p>Peace to the mourner!—I come! I come!</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="location">Shelter-Island.</span> <span class="author">Mary Gardiner.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">MARY MAY: THE NEWFOUNDLAND INDIAN.</h2> + + <p class="byline">BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> tribe of aborigines to which <span class="special_name">Mary May</span>, the heroine of our little + sketch, belonged, has been named by the Newfoundlanders, ‘Red Indians;’ + for what reason, I could never learn. This tribe, or probably + the miserable remnant of it, since the English have settled the island + has been regarded as altogether remarkable and undefinable. They + have never, in a single instance, been induced to visit the white settler + since British subjects have resided there. Little is known of their numbers, + habits, or general spirit, although the most sedulous exertions have + been made to bring about an amicable understanding and a reciprocal + intercourse. They have chosen to remain isolated and insolated; keeping + their history, their wisdom, and their deeds to themselves. They will + hold no communion with others of their own race. There are the Esquimaux, + very near their northern boundary; a people disposed to extend + the rites of hospitality in peace, and a trading tribe; but these + have no more knowledge of the ‘Red Indian’ than the white man; and + they remain wrapt up in a historical mantle as dark as the shades of + their own impenetrable complexion.</p> + + <p>Much, of a marvellous character, has been said about the Red Indians. + The fishermen of the island, as a mass, believe that these poor creatures + are semi-human. They will tell you of their having been seen one moment + cooking their venison, and composedly regaling themselves, and + the next, upon learning the contiguity of the white man, they would + vanish from sight, and not a trace could be found of their departure; + that they descend far under ground in winter, and lead a kind of fairy + life; that they have power to change themselves into birds and fishes, + and to sustain life for hours together under water. But all this is of + course unnatural and absurd. The Indians of Newfoundland are flesh + and blood, and partake, in common with other races of rational beings, + of properties holding them within ‘delegated limits of power.’ And in + <a class="pagenum" id="page524" title="524"> </a>my opinion, they are as much entitled to a character of consistency as + the generality of tribes on our continent. The secret of their shyness, + and their unsocial and vindictive disposition, may better be accounted + for, from the probable fact that they were inhumanly treated by the early + discoverers of the island, the Portuguese and Spaniards. These monsters + without doubt butchered and made havock of these poor natives + as they did the South American Indians, and indeed wherever their lawless + adventures led them, in this new world.</p> + + <p>Various governors have been appointed to the Newfoundland station + since Great-Britain has possessed the island, and all have used more + than ordinary means to reach the Red Indians, and reconcile them to + the pale-faces, who have taken possession of the bays and harbors of + their bold and rugged coast. The last, of any magnitude, that was + made, was during the summer of 1830, and immediately preceding the + administration of Sir Thomas Cochran. It consisted of a regular exploring + expedition, numbering about fifty persons, a part of whom were + regular soldiers, and a part volunteer citizens, which left St. John’s, the + capital of the island, with instructions to explore the interior, and traverse + every portion of it in quest of the Indians, and to bring some back + with them; but to use no cruelty, unless absolutely necessary. After + traversing the internal wilds for some ten days, the expedition discovered + smoke in the distance, and in a few hours came upon a party of Indians + in their wigwams. The red men were greatly surprised, and appeared + much alarmed. But upon being presented with some showy ornaments, + accompanied by smiles, and other friendly indications, their fears somewhat + subsided, and two of them became apparently willing to accompany + the expedition into St. John’s, on learning by signs that two of the white + men would remain as guarantees of their good treatment and return. + The white men left were supplied with a large quantity of ornaments + and trinkets to distribute among other Indians whom they might find + during the absence of their party, a period which was not to be prolonged + beyond a month. The good-bye was given, and the expedition + started on their return home. It had not travelled many hours before + an uncontrollable disposition seized them to go back again to the spot of + separation to see if all was well, for some declared that they had a presentiment + that there had already been foul play. Back they went, and + when they reached the spot where good wishes had just been interchanged, + the first spectacle which met their eyes was the mutilated dead + bodies of their faithful hostages! Without any consultation, or a moment’s + delay, the commander of the expedition ordered the two Indians + in their keeping to be shot, and their bodies left exposed, as they had + found those of their comrades. This order was promptly executed.</p> + + <p>Soon after Sir Thomas Cochran was appointed governor of Newfoundland, + he offered a reward of one hundred pounds for the harmless + capture of a Red Indian, the person to be brought him at the capital. + This reward was advertised in the summer of 1832; and the next + spring a fisherman, at a distant, unfrequented part of the island, saw on + a pleasant afternoon a young female Indian, laving at the edge of the + water. She was alone, and unconscious of danger, and went through + the offices of the bath with singular grace and activity. After watching + <a class="pagenum" id="page525" title="525"> </a>her for some time, he took his measures for her capture. He first cut + off her retreat, then approached her carefully, and at the instant of surprise, + obtained possession of her person. She made no resistance, but + acted as one paralyzed by fear or wonder. He brought her to Sir + Thomas, and received his reward. It being the month of May when + she was captured, she was given the name of <span class="special_name">Mary May</span>. She was + apparently about eighteen years of age; an angelic creature, tall, with + perfect symetry of proportion, agreeable features, good complexion, and + as agile and graceful as a fawn. The governor and the officers of the + garrison, and the élite of St. Johns, vied with each other in plans and + devices for her gratification. She was taken to parties, to the theatre, + to military reviews; in short, she was flattered, caressed, and made the + reigning belle. But the poor Indian showed an almost blank indifference + to the various schemes devised for her pleasure. She was not <em>at home</em>. + Every face, every habit, every object was new, and appeared strange + to her. She undoubtedly pined to go back again into the dark wilds + among her own people. Perhaps her heart, that wonderful controller + of human destiny, was in the keeping of some extolled brave: at all + events, it was not in the scenes that were passing before her; and the + efforts so generously put forth for her amusement and happiness were + like the crystal droppings upon the hard insensible stone, falling in full + profusion, but leaving no impress.</p> + + <p>Mary was detained about a year, and was then given in charge of the + fisherman who captured her, with express directions that she should be + taken to the spot where he found her, and there be left to her own guidance. + She was richly clad and profusely decorated before she was + given her liberty, and was furnished with a large quantity of finery for + distribution among the members of her tribe. It was hoped that this + treatment, when communicated by one of their own blood, would cause + a change of feeling among the Red Indians, and that gradually a reciprocity + of confidence and intercourse would be established. But this experiment + and this hope proved futile and delusive. In 1836 I left the + island of Newfoundland, and up to that time not a glimpse of the red + race had flitted across the vision of civilization since the dark captive + was permitted again to bound over hill and dale without let or hindrance. + Many idle reports and tales were circulated about Mary May, after meeting + with her tribe; but little reliance is placed upon them, as they are for + the most part contradictory, and strongly savor of the marvellous. But + I will give the reader one, which is as well authenticated as any, and + quite as probable.</p> + + <p>On the second day after Mary was liberated, she found a portion of + her people; and when they first saw her, they were much alarmed, + judging from her fanciful, brilliant habiliments that she was some celestial + visiter. But hearing their own language addressed to them, the + parentage of the girl, and the cause of her absence, they became gradually + calm, and curiosity took the place of fear, and this gave place to + admiration, until the lost one was fairly constituted by acclamation a + goddess, and to her surprise and grief, worshiped as such! The daughter’s + return had been communicated to the father, with such exaggerations + and extravagances as pertain to the grossly superstitious; and he, + <a class="pagenum" id="page526" title="526"> </a>instead of falling upon his child’s neck, and receiving her as the lost + found, came bowing and doing reverence and worship. Mary was bewildered, + and almost wished herself back again with the pale-faces.</p> + + <p>But there was one link in the chain of her destiny yet to be proved; + if <em>that</em> should be found true, she had not returned in vain. About a + year previous to her capture, on a sunny afternoon, she had strayed a + mile or two from her father’s camp, invited partly by the romance of + her own nature, and partly by the novelty of new scenery, opened up by + a change of camping-ground. While hesitating concerning her return, + and gracefully leaning against a young sapling, she heard a rustling of + leaves near her; and quickly directing her eyes to the spot whence the + alarm came, she saw with terror a full-grown panther steadily and cautiously + approaching her. She had no weapon of defence, and Indian + though she was, had never participated in blood and strife. She knew + that flight would be vain, for what human being could outrun a hungry + panther? She raised one alarm-whoop, and awaited her fate. At the + loud, piercing cry, the fierce animal seemed alarmed in his turn, and + paused in his progress. But after some five minutes, he recovered his + courage, and was making ready for the fatal spring, when an arrow + pierced his heart; and the next moment a young, athletic brave sprang + from the thicket, and clasped the dark damsel to his breast. She remained + an instant, passive and bewildered; the next, she sprang from + the embrace of the stranger, and with Indian dignity thanked him for + his kind and timely aid. She then turned her face toward her father’s + camp, and with the fleetness of an antelope passed the intervening space, + and soon found herself safe in her changing habitation.</p> + + <p>But notwithstanding the assumed dignity and apparent coldness with + which she addressed the young stranger, Mary in that moment of rescue + was awakened to a new and impassioned existence. The image + of the stranger was before her by day and in her dreams by night. Six + or eight months passed, when the chiefs of the tribe celebrated a great + festival, to which all the members were invited. The ceremonies were + to last a week; many did not arrive until after the first day, and the + father of Mary, and his camp, were of this number. But toward the + evening of the first day of the festivities, a tall, graceful young brave + stalked into the assembly, and with cool solicitude scanned the faces of + the female visiters; and not appearing satisfied, he folded his arms upon + his breast, and leaning against a rude post, listlessly observed the + sports. But a close observer would have seen his eye lit up with unwonted + interest when any new arrival was announced. No one knew + him; his dress was peculiar; still he spoke their language, and the old + chiefs passed him by for a future examination.</p> + + <p>On the second day of the gathering, toward noon, Mary May arrived, + and with her father, mother and sisters, entered that enclosure of merry + hearts. She hoped to see at the festival the youth who had so strongly + impressed her; and the moment she entered the rude structure, her + eyes eagerly ranged round the assembly until they rested upon the person + of her rescuer, who as eagerly returned her significant glance. + During the continuance of the feast and frolic, the lovers had many interviews; + and before it closed, their faith and vows were exchanged. + <a class="pagenum" id="page527" title="527"> </a>They were to have been married the month after her capture; and + now, since her return and deification, she had not learned a word about + her ‘brave,’ and had come to the determination if he proved false to + destroy herself. Day after day passed without the presence of the only + one who could drive the dark cloud from her mind, and it was becoming + every day more dense and oppressive, until she gave way to utter despondency, + and bitterly bewailed her fate. One afternoon, about two + months after her return, while some of her kindred were bowing before + her in heathenish worship, hasty steps were heard approaching; the + next moment the young brave appeared and clasped his lost treasure to + his heart; and taking advantage of the bewilderment of the worshippers, + occasioned by his sudden appearance, the happy pair escaped to the sea-coast, + and passing over a portion of the bay, found a secure retreat + among the Mickmacs, to which tribe the young brave belonged.</p> + + <p>And there may they rest. I sometimes, though quite infrequently, meet + with some one from Newfoundland; and among the first questions I + ask is one touching the ‘Red Indians;’ and although I have not heard + any thing which went to confirm the hope that they may yet be brought + to place confidence in the white man, yet I still trust that I shall; and + when this result is brought about, or any other thing of interest shall + be learned of these strange mortals, I shall take much pleasure in communicating + the information, for the benefit of the readers of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>.</p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">BIRTH-DAY MEDITATIONS.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">I stand upon the wave that marks the round</p> + <p class="i2">Of Life’s dark-heaving and revolving years;</p> + <p class="i2">Still sweeping onward from Youth’s sunny ground,</p> + <p class="i2">Still changed and chequered with my joys and fears,</p> + <p class="i2">And colored from the past, where Thought careers,</p> + <p class="i2">Shadowing the ashes in pale Memory’s urn;</p> + <p class="i2">Where perished buds were laid, with frequent tears,</p> + <p class="i2">That on the cheek of Disappointment burn,</p> + <p>As blessed hours roll on, that never may return.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">What have they seen, those changed and vanish’d years?</p> + <p class="i2">Uplifted, soaring thoughts, all quelled by fate;</p> + <p class="i2">Affection, mournful in its gushing tears;</p> + <p class="i2">And midst the crowd that at the funeral wait,</p> + <p class="i2">A widowed mother’s heart made desolate</p> + <p class="i2">O’er a war-honor’d Sire’s low place of rest;</p> + <p class="i2">These are the tales that Memory may relate:</p> + <p class="i2">They have a moral for the aspiring breast,</p> + <p>A lesson of Decay on earthliness impress’d.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">Yet Hope still chaunts unto the listening ear</p> + <p class="i2">The witching music of her treacherous song;</p> + <p class="i2">Still paints the Future eloquent and clear,</p> + <p class="i2">And sees the tide of Life roll calm along,</p> + <p class="i2">Where glittering phantoms rise, a luring throng;</p> + <p class="i2">And voiceful Fame holds out the laurel bough:</p> + <p class="i2">Where rapturous applause is loud and long,</p> + <p class="i2">Frail guerdon for the heart!—which lights the brow</p> + <p>With the ephemeral smile of Mind’s triumphant glow.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">C.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page528" title="528"> </a>THE HOUSEHOLDER.</h2> + + <p class="byline">BY JOHN WATERS.</p> + + + <div class="epigram"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">For</span> the kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the + morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a + penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others + standing in the market-place, and said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is + right I will give you; and they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour, + and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and + saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath + hired us. He saith unto them. Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye + receive.’—<span class="special_name">St. Matthew</span>: XX, 1-7.</p> + </div> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">O thou</span> blest Householder! the starry dawn,</p> + <p>The light crepuscular, the roseate morn,</p> + <p class="i2">Long since had melted into day!</p> + <p>Long since the glow of Youth’s <span class="small_all_caps">THIRD</span> hour,</p> + <p>And the bird’s song, and Fancy’s magic power,</p> + <p class="i2">Long since have, traceless, pass’d away!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Ent’reth the sun into its zenith height!</p> + <p>Ent’reth the mortal into manhood’s might!</p> + <p class="i2">Op’neth again the vineyard Gate</p> + <p>And Labourers are call’d! but Honour’s dream</p> + <p>Entranc’d my soul, and made Religion seem</p> + <p class="i2">As nought, Glory was man’s Estate!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The <span class="small_all_caps">NINTH</span> hour found me in the market place;</p> + <p>Fierce passion ruled my heart, care mark’d my face;</p> + <p class="i2">In vain, in vain, Thy blessed call!</p> + <p>To glitter, to achieve, to lose or gain,</p> + <p>Form’d every hope, or thought, delight, or pain:</p> + <p class="i2">The world, the world, was still my All!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The <span class="small_all_caps">TENTH</span> hour sounded in my startled ear!</p> + <p>Thy gracious Spirit touched my heart with fear!</p> + <p class="i2">The harvest ended with the day;</p> + <p>That thought imbued my mind—‘not saved? too late?’</p> + <p>I left the throng; I sought the Vineyard Gate;</p> + <p class="i2">’Twas shut— Death-struck, I turn’d away!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Low sank the Sun adown the Western Sky!</p> + <p>Each cherish’d hope had prov’d its vanity!</p> + <p class="i2">Now neither Earth, nor Heaven was mine.</p> + <p>Rejected, sad, abandon’d, and forlorn;</p> + <p>Of God it seem’d not lov’d; of Hell, the scorn!</p> + <p class="i2">No hope, or human or Divine,</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Brighten’d my dark, cold, doubting, wretched mind;</p> + <p>The world, a wilderness; Heaven’s self, unkind!</p> + <p class="i2">‘Blackness of darkness’ seem’d my way:</p> + <p>Slow struck the <span class="small_all_caps">ELEVENTH</span>! Thy light around me broke!</p> + <p>And deep, unto my soul, these words were spoke:</p> + <p class="i2">‘Why stand ye idle all the day?’</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Enter and work through the waning hour!’—</p> + <p>Lord of the Vineyard! grant Thy servant power</p> + <p class="i2">To labour, love Thee, and obey.</p> + <p>Let every thought, plan, word, deed, wish, be Thine!</p> + <p>Thine be all honour, glory, praise divine,</p> + <p class="i2">And let thy pardon close my day!</p> + </div> + </div> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page529" title="529"> </a>THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.</h2> + + <h3 class="subtitle fancy">Harry Harson.</h3> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4> + + <p><span class="first_word">On</span> the day but one after Rust’s death, Mr. Kornicker was very busy + in his office. His coat was off; his hat was on a chair, and in it was + his snuff-box, a black silk neckcloth, and a white handkerchief, not a + little discolored by the presence of snuff and the absence of water. In + one corner of the room lay a confused heap, consisting of bed, bedding, + and various odds and ends of wearing apparel; and from these Mr. + Kornicker, after due reflection and calculation as to the order in which + to make his choice, selected article after article. First, he spread upon + the floor his counterpane, then his blanket, then a sheet not a little akin + in appearance to his handkerchief, and then his bed: upon these he + piled his apparel, in a confused heap, and proceeded to roll the whole + into a large ball, which he secured with a piece of rope. ‘Now then, + the moving’s begun,’ said he, opening the door and rolling the bundle + into the entry. ‘The premises are ready for the next tenant.’</p> + + <p>Having brushed his knees with the palm of his hands, and then dusted + his hands by knocking them together, he put on his neckcloth, coat, and + hat; pocketed his snuff-box and handkerchief, walked into the entry, + locked the door, put the key over it, as he had always been in the habit + of doing; seated himself upon his bundle, with his back leaning against + the wall; and immediately lapsed into a fit of deep abstraction, which + he occasionally relieved by kicking his heels against the floor, shaking + his head, in a sudden and emphatic manner, or inhaling his breath rapidly + and violently, producing a sound blending the harmonious qualities of + a snort and a whistle.</p> + + <p>‘So,’ said he, after indulging in one of the last mentioned performances + with so much energy as to arouse him from his abstraction, at the same + time nodding his head at Rust’s office, ‘<em>his</em> cake being dough, our bargain’s + up; and here am I, Edward Kornicker, Esquire, attorney and + counsellor at law, a man of profound experience, severe knowledge of + the world, of great capacity in various ways, though of small means—I + think I may say of d——d small means—once more in the market; + for sale to the highest bidder. Such a valuable commodity is not met + with every day. If any gentleman,’ continued he, raising his hand and + looking round at an imaginary audience, ‘is extremely desirous of securing + the eminent talents of one of the most prominent young men of + the day—not exactly new,’ added he, running his eye over his rusty + coat, ‘but wonderfully serviceable; no cracks, nor flaws, no pieces + broken off—here is an opportunity which will not occur again. This + is only a scratch on the surface,’ said he, as he thrust his finger into a + <a class="pagenum" id="page530" title="530"> </a>small hole in his coat-sleeve; ‘the article itself is warranted to be perfectly + sound, and of the best quality. How much is bid?—how much + for the promising young man aforesaid? How much? One thousand + dollars? Five hundred? Two fifty?—one?—fifty? It wont do,’ + said he, in a melancholy tone; ‘strike him down to me. The gentleman’s + bought himself in; there being no demand for the article in this + market, he thinks of disposing of himself to some respectable widow + lady with a small family and a large purse. He may alter his mind, + but that’s his present intention.’</p> + + <p>Here Mr. Kornicker concluded his rather extraordinary soliloquy by + plunging his hands in his pockets, and dropping into a subdued whistle; + in the course of which his thoughts seemed to have taken altogether a + different channel; for it was not long before he said, as if in continuance + of some unuttered train of thought:</p> + + <p>‘Well, old fellow, I promised you to look after your girl, although + you didn’t seem much struck with the offer. But I’ll stick to my promise; + although, to tell the truth, I don’t exactly know how to commence. + But nothing will be done by sitting on this bundle. So I’ll to my work + at once.’</p> + + <p>He rose up hastily, and was descending the stairs when he abruptly + turned back, went up to his luggage, and after eyeing it for a minute, + said:</p> + + <p>‘It’s a hazardous business to leave you here. You can’t be distrained + on, nor levied on, because you’re exempt by law. So you are + safe from landlords and creditors; the law makes you exempt from being + stolen too; but thieves consider themselves like members of parliament, + out of the reach of law. There’s the rub. You might be stolen; and + I very much regret to say, that the gentleman who should lay violent + hands on you would walk off with all my goods, chattels, lands, tenements, + and hereditaments; but I’ve no where to take you, and as I + expect to sleep in this entry, you must take your chance. So, good + bye, old acquaintance, in case you and I should never meet again.’</p> + + <p>Having in a very grave manner shaken one corner of the counterpane, + as if it were the hand of an old friend, he gave his head a sudden + jerk, to settle his hat in the right place, and descended the stairs.</p> + + <p>The task which Kornicker had imposed upon himself was by no means + easy; but firm in his purpose of fulfilling his promise, he shut his eyes + to all difficulties, and commenced his pursuit.</p> + + <p>The first place to which he went was the prison, for he hoped that + the keeper of it might know something about her, or that she might have + left her address there, in case her father wished to see her when he was + imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They could tell him nothing, + except that Rust neither asked for her, nor mentioned her, and had + always refused to see her. She had never succeeded in gaining admittance + to him, except on the night of his death, when the jailer, a + fellow unfit for his office, for he had some human feeling left, unable to + resist her tears and entreaties, had let her in unannounced, as mentioned + in the last chapter. She had left the cell abruptly, had hurried off, and + had never returned. ‘God help the poor child!’ exclaimed the man, + as he told the story. ‘Such hearts as hers were made for heaven, not + <a class="pagenum" id="page531" title="531"> </a>for this world. I have a daughter of her age; and even if she had + robbed a church, I couldn’t have treated her as that man treated his + child.’</p> + + <p>The man looked at Kornicker, as if to observe the effect of his last + remark; but probably that gentleman viewed the robbing of a church + in a less heinous light than the jailer, for he made no comment on it, + but after a pause said:</p> + + <p>‘So that’s all you know?’</p> + + <p>The man nodded.</p> + + <p>‘Good morning to you, Sir,’ said Kornicker; and he walked straight + out of the building, and had crossed several streets before he had made + up his mind what to do next. This however was soon settled, and he + buttoned his coat tightly, pulled his hat firmly on his head, drew on a + pair of shabby gloves, and performed a number of those little acts which + in ancient times were known under the head of ‘girding up the loins,’ + preparatory to setting out to his next point of destination, which was the + girl’s former home, the place where Rust had committed the murder. + It was many miles off; and the distance which Rust, under the whip + and spur of fierce passions, had traversed without trace of fatigue, + drew from his clerk many a sigh, and many an expression of weariness.</p> + + <p>When he got there he found the house deserted. He entered it, for + there was no one there to hinder it, but the rooms were empty and dismantled. + The house had been hired by Rust, and no sooner was he in + the gripe of the law, than creditors innumerable, who like birds of prey + were biding their time, kept in check by the unbending character of + their debtor, came flitting in from every quarter; seized and sold the + furniture, and left the house desolate. A single dark stain upon the + library floor, where the murdered man had fallen, was all that was left + to tell a tale of the past. The dust had gathered thickly on the walls, + as if preparing to commence a slumber of years; and as Kornicker + went out, the rats raced through the hall, startled at the tread of a + stranger.</p> + + <p>With a heart as heavy as his limbs, as he thought of the past life of + the girl who had once tenanted this house, and then fancied what her + present fate must be, Kornicker set out on his return. ‘If it had been + me,’ said he, pausing to take a last look at the lonely house, ‘if it had + only been Edward Kornicker who was thus cast adrift, to kick his way + through the world with empty pockets, and without a soul to say to him + God speed, or ‘I’m sorry for you,’ it would have been right and proper, + and no one would have any cause to grumble or find fault; but this + being a girl, with no money, and consequently with no friends, no experience, + as <em>I</em> have, it’s a very hard case—a very hard case, indeed.’</p> + + <p>Having arrived at this conclusion, Kornicker took off his hat, wiped + his forehead, snuffed, and set out on his return.</p> + + <p>Day after day for several weeks he prosecuted his inquiries without + success; and just when he was in despair, chance led him to success. + In the course of his rambles, he encountered a person who had been at + Rust’s trial, and happened to speak about him; for now that the criminal + was dead and in his grave, when public opinion could be of no service + to him, many who had hunted him down began to view less harshly + <a class="pagenum" id="page532" title="532"> </a>the crime which had led to his death; and this man was one of the + number. He said that, although he deserved punishment for his previous + evil deeds, yet the best and purest act of his life had been that by + which he had struck down the destroyer of his child.</p> + + <p>‘Poor thing!’ said he, ‘she must have led a miserable life since her + father’s death. I have met her several times since then in the street, + but that was several weeks ago; and then she was very feeble, scarcely + able to walk: perhaps she’s dead now.’</p> + + <p>Kornicker waited only long enough to ascertain that she lived in a + certain out-of-the-way part of the town, which the man designated, and + thither he directed his steps, and resumed his search; and after several + days spent in fruitless inquiries, he discovered her.</p> + + <p>The house in which he found her was a small ruinous building, sagged + and jutting forward, as if struggling to sustain itself against time and + dilapidation. The windows were broken; the doors and shutters unhung, + except a solitary one of the latter, which creaked as it flapped to + and fro in the wind; and this was the home of Rust’s child.</p> + + <p>Kornicker ascended the ricketty stairs and paused at the door of a + room, which a slipshod woman had pointed out as that of the ‘murderer’s + daughter.’ He knocked, but there was no reply; he knocked again, + but all was silent. Then he opened the door and looked in.</p> + + <p>It was a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed + on the floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring + light served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its + wretchedness. The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses + about the pillow. Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes + deep-set and glowing, as if all that was left of life was concentrated in + them.</p> + + <p>Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and + walked in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for + she turned her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not + speak. Kornicker went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took + her hand in his. As he did so he observed that it was very thin and + shrunken, and that the large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as + fire. ‘You’re very ill,’ said he, in a low tone. ‘I’m afraid you’re + very ill.’</p> + + <p>‘I’m dying of thirst,’ said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher, + which stood on the floor. ‘Give me water; the want of it is driving + me mad. No one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself, + but could not stand.’</p> + + <p>Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out + to a pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled + to the brim. The girl’s eye grew even more lustrous than before, as + she saw it, and she attempted to rise, but was unable.</p> + + <p>‘You must excuse ceremony,’ said Kornicker, as he placed his arm + under her back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips. + ‘Nursing isn’t in my line.’</p> + + <p>The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the + pillow exhausted.</p> + + <p>‘Have you a doctor?’ inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the + floor.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page533" title="533"> </a>‘No,’ answered she feebly; ‘I have no money: the last went yesterday. + I’m deserted by all now.’</p> + + <p>‘Not quite,’ exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his + knee, while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; ‘not + while I’m left. I’m sorry I a’nt a woman, for your sake; but as I + don’t happen to be, I hope you’ll make no objections on that score; + I’ll look after you as if you were my own sister.’</p> + + <p>It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long + time, and the tears came in her eyes.</p> + + <p>‘There, there, don’t cry,’ said Kornicker. ‘It bothers me; I don’t + know what to do when women cry. But you haven’t a doctor; that + will never do. Keep up your heart,’ said he, rising; ‘I’ll return + presently.’ Saying this, and without waiting for a reply, he left the room.</p> + + <p>Arriving in the street, his first impulse was not only to feel in his + pockets, but with the utmost care to turn them inside out, and to examine + them narrowly.</p> + + <p>‘Not a copper—pockets to let!’ said he, restoring them to their former + condition, after a long and unsuccessful search. ‘But this girl must be + looked after; that’s settled. Now then,’ said he, in a very meditative + mood, ‘who’s able to do it and <em>will</em>?’</p> + + <p>This seemed a question not easily answered, for he stood for more + than a minute in profound thought, in endeavoring to solve it; but apparently + making up his mind, he hurried along the street. The direction + which he took was toward the upper part of the city, and he was some + time in reaching his destination, which was no other than Harry + Harson’s house. He crossed the court-yard and knocked at the door, + which was opened by Harson.</p> + + <p>‘I want a word with you,’ said Kornicker, abruptly.</p> + + <p>Harson told him to come in; led the way to his sitting-room, and + pointing to a chair, told him to be seated.</p> + + <p>‘I haven’t time,’ said Kornicker, shaking his head. ‘Do you + know me?’</p> + + <p>‘I’ve seen you, but I can’t recollect where.’</p> + + <p>‘<em>Here</em>,’ said Kornicker, ‘here, in this room. I breakfasted here. + I’m Michael Rust’s clerk.’</p> + + <p>‘Then you can scarcely expect a cordial reception from <em>me</em>,’ said + Harson, coldly.</p> + + <p>‘I don’t care what sort of a reception you give <em>me</em>,’ replied Kornicker; + ‘you may kick me if it will be any comfort to you, provided you only + do what I ask. Michael Rust is dead, and his daughter is now dying, + with scarcely clothes to cover her, or a bed to lie in; without a cent to + buy her food or medicine; without a soul to say a single word of comfort + to her. I wouldn’t have troubled you, old fellow,’ continued he, + with some warmth, at the same time turning out his pockets, ‘if I had + a cent to give her. The last I had I spent in getting a breakfast this + morning; and although it’s the only meal I’ve eaten to day, damme if + I would have touched it if I had thought to have found her in such + circumstances. But since you won’t help her, you may let it alone; I’m + not so hard run but that I can do something for her yet.’</p> + + <p>Kornicker had worked himself up into such an excitement, owing to + <a class="pagenum" id="page534" title="534"> </a>Harson’s cold reception of him, that he took it for granted his request + was to be refused; and having thus vented his feelings he turned on his + heel to go, when the old man laid his hand on his shoulder.</p> + + <p>‘Nature puts noble hearts in very rough cases,’ said Harson, his eyes + glistening as he spoke. ‘You’re a good fellow, but rather hasty. I + didn’t say I would not assist the poor girl; on the contrary, you shall + see that I will. She has no doctor?’</p> + + <p>‘No.’</p> + + <p>‘No nurse?’</p> + + <p>‘No.’</p> + + <p>Harson rang the bell. The house-keeper answered it.</p> + + <p>‘Martha, put on your things,’ said Harson; ‘I want you to sit up with + a sick person to-night. Bring a basket, and lights, and cups, and every + thing that’s necessary for one who has nothing. I’ll return in five + minutes; you must be ready by that time. Now then, Sir, come along; + you shall see what I’ll do next.’</p> + + <p>He went into the street, and walked rapidly on, turning one or two + corners, but without going far, and at last knocked at the door of a small + house.</p> + + <p>‘A very excellent fellow lives here,’ said he to Kornicker; ‘he’s a + doctor; and if this girl can be saved he’ll do it. Hark! there he comes. + I hear his step.’</p> + + <p>The door was opened by the doctor himself, and a few words sufficed + to explain matters to him.</p> + + <p>‘I’ll be ready in a minute,’ said he, darting in the room and as suddenly + returning, struggling his way into the arms of a great-coat. ‘Now + then,’ exclaimed he, buttoning a single button, and dashing into the + street, ‘which way?’</p> + + <p>‘Where does she live?’ asked Harson. ‘I’ll go back and bring the + nurse.’</p> + + <p>Kornicker told him, and was hurrying off, when Harson touched his + arm, and leading him a few steps aside, said in a low voice: ‘You seem + somewhat straitened for money, Mr. Kornicker; I wish you would accept + a loan from me.’ He extended a bank-note to him.</p> + + <p>Kornicker buttoned his pockets up very closely, not omitting a single + button, and then replied coldly: ‘I ask charity for others, not for myself.’</p> + + <p>‘Come, come,’ said Harson, kindly, ‘you mustn’t bear malice. I + did not act well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show + that you do so, you must take this loan from me.’</p> + + <p>‘I don’t wish to borrow,’ replied Kornicker.</p> + + <p>‘Well, I’m sorry for it,’ said Harson, taking his hand; ‘but you’re + not angry?’</p> + + <p>‘No no, old fellow; it’s not an easy matter to keep angry with you; + you’re a trump!’</p> + + <p>‘Perhaps you’ll sup with me when we return?’ said the old man, + earnestly.</p> + + <p>‘I’ll see how the girl is,’ replied Kornicker; ‘good bye. We’re + losing time.’</p> + + <p>Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they + set out at a rapid pace for the girl’s abode.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page535" title="535"> </a>They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the + part of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of + stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk. + Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the + girl, had induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of + the offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive + elderly person, who could not resent the affront.</p> + + <p>‘Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?’ + said the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl’s abode, and + listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and + along the entry.</p> + + <p>‘Come on, and you’ll see,’ replied Kornicker; and seizing him by + the arm, he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at + the girl’s room.</p> + + <p>‘Look in there, if you want to see comfort,’ said he, with an irony + that seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it. + ‘Isn’t that a sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every + thing that money could buy?’</p> + + <p>The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his + companion. ‘Come, come,’ said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker’s + hand; ‘don’t give way to these feelings. She’ll be well taken care of + now. Harry Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.’</p> + + <p>He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl + seemed sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held + it so that the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently + upon her wrist. He kept it there for some moments, then held up the + light again, and looked at her face; after which he placed it on the + floor, rose up, and took a long survey of the room.</p> + + <p>‘It’s a wretched place,’ said he, speaking in a whisper. ‘She must + have suffered terribly here.’</p> + + <p>‘This is the way the poor live,’ said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone; + ‘this is the way <em>she</em> has lived; but we’ll save her from dying so.’</p> + + <p>The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip:</p> + + <p>‘What are you going to do for her?’ demanded Kornicker, after a + pause: ‘have you medicine with you?’</p> + + <p>‘She requires nothing now,’ said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above + a whisper. ‘She’s dead!’</p> + + <p>Kornicker hastily took the light, and bent over her. He remained + thus for a long time; and when he rose, his eyes were filled with tears.</p> + + <p>‘I’m sorry I left her,’ said he, in a vain effort to speak in his usual + tones. ‘It was very hard that she should die alone. I acted for the + best; but d—n it, I’m always wrong!’</p> + + <p>He dashed his fist across his face, walked to the window and looked + out.</p> + + <p>At that moment the door opened, and Harson entered, his face somewhat + attempered in its joyous expression; and close behind followed the + house-keeper with a large basket.</p> + + <p>‘How is she?’ asked he, in a subdued tone.</p> + + <p>Kornicker made no reply, but looked resolutely out of the window, and + snuffed profusely. It would not have been manly to show that the large + <a class="pagenum" id="page536" title="536"> </a>tears were coursing down his cheeks. Harson threw an inquiring + glance at the doctor, who answered by a shake of the head: ‘She was + dead when we got here.’</p> + + <p>Harson went to the bed, and put back the long tresses from her face. + There was much in that face to sadden the old man’s heart. Had it + been that of an old person, of one who had lived out her time, and + had been gathered in, in due season, he would have thought less of it; + but it was sad indeed to see one in the first blush of youth, scarcely + more than a child, stricken down and dying in such a place, and so + desolate.</p> + + <p>‘Was there no one with her—not a soul?’ inquired Harson, earnestly, + as he rose; ‘not one human being, to breathe a word of comfort + in her ear, or to whisper a kind word to cheer her on her long journey?’</p> + + <p>The doctor shook his head: ‘No one.’ Harson’s lips quivered, but + he pressed them tightly together, and turning to Kornicker said:</p> + + <p>‘Come, my good fellow, you must struggle against your feelings; you + must not be downcast about it. She’s better off than if she had + lived—much better off.’</p> + + <p>‘I’m not in the least downcast,’ replied Kornicker, in a very resolute + manner; ‘I don’t care a straw about it. She was nothing to me; only + it’s a little disagreeable to be living in this world without a soul to care + for, or a soul that cares for you; and then there was some satisfaction + in being of use to some one, and in feeling it was your duty to see that + no one imposed on her, or ill treated her; but no matter; it’s all over + now. I suppose it’s all right; and I feel quite cheerful, I assure you. + But you’ll look to her, will you? I can be of no farther use here, and + I’d rather go.’</p> + + <p>‘I will,’ said Harson.</p> + + <p>‘You won’t let her be buried as a pauper, I hope?’</p> + + <p>‘No, upon my honor she shall not,’ replied Harry.</p> + + <p>‘Very well—good night.’</p> + + <p>Harson followed him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force + a sum of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal, + nor could he be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said + that he was not hungry.</p> + + <p>After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart, + with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving + him a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well + mention that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became + a very vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented + a small ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he + snuffed prodigally, and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed + knowledge, from the sagacious manner in which he shook his head and + winked on all subjects.</p> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.</h4> + + <p>It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and + glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down + upon the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness. + <a class="pagenum" id="page537" title="537"> </a>There was no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late + hours, and might be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or + two in the morning, when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence + of her neglect of duty the streets were dark, except where here + and there the shop windows threw out bright streams of light, revealing + now a wrinkled brow, now a fat, jolly face, and now a pair of bright + sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and lips like a rose-bud, as the throng + of people flitted past them; for an instant clear, distinct, with face, feature, + and form plainly visible, and then lost in the darkness. Some + paused to look in the windows, some to chat; and it might have been + observed, that those who lingered longest in the light, were young, and + such whose faces could bear both the test of light and scrutiny. But + amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the same course as the + rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly across the streams + of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched, as if he desired + to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were comparatively + less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron railings of + the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps, as if he + had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be judged + from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall and + gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard, and a face disfigured by + a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health + or suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was + taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused + often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and + finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark + cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe + him, his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating + his teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a + blow, he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no + less a person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily, + as if he feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door, + for Harry had no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the + outer room. The door communicating with the inner room was open, + so that he could see within; and perhaps never was there a greater + contrast than between the occupants of those two rooms. In one was a + man eaten up by fierce passions, desperate and hardened, with all that + is noble in the human soul burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other + sat an old man whose benevolent features beamed with good will to all + mankind. There was scarcely a wrinkle in the broad full brow; the + hair was sprinkled with gray; but what of that? His eye was bright; + his mouth teemed with good nature; and his heart—God bless thee, + old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?</p> + + <p>The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were + rapid and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper, + and was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated + within a few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and + bright as those of a maniac.</p> + + <p>‘Who are you, in the name of heaven?’ ejaculated he, too surprised + even to rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality + of his being in that spot.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page538" title="538"> </a>The man laughed, savagely: ‘Look at me, my master; look at me + <em>well</em>; you’ve seen me afore. Try and recollect it.’</p> + + <p>Harson’s embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined + the man from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him + somewhere, mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain, + crossed Harson’s mind as he studied the sunken features which were + submitted unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered, + and wondered; and still the man remained unmoved. He looked + again; the man changed his position, and the light fell upon him from + another direction. Harson knew him at once. He started up: ‘Murderer, + I know you!’</p> + + <p>The man was on his feet at the same moment.</p> + + <p>‘Down to your seat, Sir!’ said he, in a loud, savage tone. ‘You’re + right; but you cannot take me alive, nor will mortal man. In that + room,’ said he, in a low tone, and pointing toward the dark stair-case + which led to the upper part of the house, ‘I killed Tim Craig—the + only man that ever loved me. He’s been after me ever since!’ He + leaned his face toward Harson, and looking stealthily over his shoulder + said in a whisper: ‘He’s waiting for me at the door. He sat down + on the stoop when I came in. I don’t know why I came here, but <em>he</em> + made me do it, and I must see where I killed him. It wasn’t me. It + was Rust; it was Rust. Hark!’ He cast a hasty glance in the room + behind him. ‘I’m going, Tim, I’m going,’ said he. ‘Quick! quick! + give me the light!’</p> + + <p>Seizing the candle, before Harson could prevent him, he rushed out + of the room, and sprang up the stairs two at a time. Harson followed; + but before he reached the door of the upper room, with a yell so loud + and unearthly that it made the old man’s heart stand still, the murderer + darted out; his face livid; his hair bristling, his eyes starting with + horror. With a single bound he cleared the stairs; crossed the antechamber, + the gate swung heavily to, and he was gone! And this was + the last that was ever known of Bill Jones. A few months afterward, + the body of a man was found floating in one of the docks, and was supposed + to be his; but it was so mutilated and disfigured, that it was impossible + to ascertain the fact with any certainty, and it was deposited + in the earth with none to claim it or care for it, and with no mark to + designate that the soil above it shrouded a heart which had once throbbed + with all the hopes and fears and passions that were burning in the bosoms + of those who were carelessly loitering above its resting place.</p> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER THIRTY.</h4> + + <p>Ned Somers had followed Harson’s advice in not making his visits + to Rhoneland’s too frequent. But whatever may have passed between + him and Kate, and even if they did occasionally meet in the street and + stop to speak, and sometimes to hold conversations which were neither + short nor uninteresting to themselves, that is a matter between themselves + with which we have nothing to do. Certain it is, however, that + <a class="pagenum" id="page539" title="539"> </a>as Ned cooled off in his intimacy with Rhoneland, he appeared to rise + in the old man’s estimation; and he grew more cordial when they <em>did</em> + meet. It may have been that the suspicions implanted by Rust were + gradually giving way before the frank, honest nature of the young man; + or it may have been that gratitude for the assistance which Somers had + lent, (and which Harson was very particular to give its full weight) in + disentangling him from the toils of Rust; or it may have been the secret + influence of Harson, who ventured, whenever it could be done, to speak + a good word for Ned; or it may have been the drooping face of his + child, which he was wont more than ever to study anxiously, that gradually + softened his feelings; but there is no doubt that, to Kate’s surprise, + he one day told her to get him pen, ink and paper, and to draw + the table in front of him, as he was going to write a letter. And it + must be confessed, that Kate’s color heightened, and her heart beat fast + when he had finished the letter, directed it to Mr. Edward Somers, and + then asked if she knew the address of Somers, which of course she + did; although she hesitated and stammered as if it were a profound + secret, and the answer the most difficult thing in the world.</p> + + <p>But her surprise was scarcely greater than that of Ned himself, when + a boy came to him with a letter which ran thus:</p> + + <div class="letter"> + <p>‘<span class="special_name">My dear Edward</span>: Come to me as soon as you can; I wish to see + you on a matter of much importance to both of us.</p> + + <p class="sign centered_line">Yours truly,<br /> + <span class="author">Jacob Rhoneland.’</span></p> + </div> + + <p>Ned felt something bouncing about in a very queer manner directly + under his ribs, as he read this note; but the sensation was not so painful + as to prevent his obeying it with a speed that was perfectly marvellous; + for to Rhoneland it seemed that the letter could scarcely have reached + its destination before Ned was back with it in his hand.</p> + + <p>‘You got my note,’ said he gravely, as Somers entered, his face + flushed with the rapidity with which he had come.</p> + + <p>‘I have.’</p> + + <p>‘Don’t go, Kate,’ said he to his daughter, who with an inkling of + what was to follow, was stealing away. ‘What I have to say relates + to both of you.’</p> + + <p>‘Some time since,’ said he, rising, and standing in front of Ned, ‘I + wronged you, by making charges against you which I am now convinced + were false. My mind was poisoned by one who has gone to his long + account, and whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,’ said he, + extending his hand, ‘I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely + than I did on the day when we met at Mr. Harson’s.’</p> + + <p>Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion + of words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be, + that he had taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others; + that he was not only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up + the matter, and say no more about it; which no doubt was very true, + for within six feet of him stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face, + and her little mouth dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly + <a class="pagenum" id="page540" title="540"> </a>matters were going on. And could he be crusty and dogged? or + could he cherish a grudge against <em>her</em> father? The thing was impossible. + The extended hand was grasped, and grasped warmly.</p> + + <p>‘Another thing I have to speak of,’ said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat + at the cordial tone of Ned’s feelings. ‘It is but a short time since + I learnt the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in + unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal + of charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed + to bear, and were breaking me down. I have not finished,’ said + he, raising his hand to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring + to make; ‘let me complete what I have to say, and you may + speak as much as you like, afterward. I will not thank you, for + thanks are but words, and too often mean nothing. Is there any thing + that I can <em>do</em>, to lessen my indebtedness to you?—or is there any way + in which I can pay it off altogether?’</p> + + <p>He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned’s face. The red blood + dashed up to Somers’ very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for + the thumping of his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the + time to ask for Kate; nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting + a glance at her, and seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, + as if she anticipated what was going on in his mind. It must be + confessed, however, that had Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes + than that afforded by his words, he would have been very much in the + dark; for although Ned attempted to speak out boldly, his lips trembled + very much, and his voice was not as obedient as he could wish; and all + that was distinctly audible was the girl’s name.</p> + + <p>‘Why lad, what ails thee?’ asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed + the embarrassment of his guest. ‘You used to be as bold as a + lion. Come here Kate,’ said he to his daughter; ‘this young fellow + has lost his voice; can <em>you</em> tell me what he wants?’</p> + + <p>It was now Kate’s turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on + her cheek; nor did she utter a word.</p> + + <p>‘Young man,’ continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, ‘I did not send + for you to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would + ask for <em>her</em>, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused. + She is yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow + from falling upon her brow. If you do not, an old man’s curse will + rest upon you; and even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave, + where my voice cannot reach you, that silent curse will follow you.’ + He turned abruptly away, and left the room.</p> + + <p>Ned Somers took Kate’s hand in his; passed his arm about her + waist, and drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips + could not but meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen + times.</p> + + <p>‘So you’re mine at last, Kate!’ said he, looking into her very eyes, + whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. ‘Did I not tell + you to cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and + wasn’t I right? And now, Kate,’ said he, in a less confident tone, ‘your + father, though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical, + and might change his mind; so when shall <em>it</em> be?’</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page541" title="541"> </a>Kate’s reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of + Ned; but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had + been married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merry-making + to be held on that very evening at Rhoneland’s old house, which + had been so furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the + young couple, that every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party + at Jacob Rhoneland’s! It was a thing unheard of, and produced quite + a sensation in the drowsy part of the town where he lived. Never had + a household been in such a fluster as his was. What deep consultations + were held to prevent the old man—who seemed to have grown + quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about the house like + some gay old old cricket—from meddling in every thing, and to throw + dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having every + thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then + what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the great + wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye + from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests. + But Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out + a dozen times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle, + giving advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing + wrong; managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it + up stairs under Rhoneland’s very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances; + and depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult + of access, by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size + of the chest, told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take + it there himself; but that it was better where it was, and much more + safe and out of the way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.</p> + + <p>Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so + charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness, + that on meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her + that she was looking ‘gloriously;’ a performance and observation by + the way, which he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course + of the last hour. By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and + went up stairs. There was a great clatter above, where they were + taking off their things. It took a wonderful time to remove the hats + and shawls; for although for a long time up they went, none came + down. There must have been thirty assembled above stairs. At last + Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned and Kate, dressed in his + best black suit, and looking as young and merry as any of them, vowed + that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs and sent them down in + a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how the congratulations + poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future happiness, + and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to help him + take care of it.</p> + + <p>A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there, + and put a stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks + were going into the business of the evening. The little stunted black + fiddler with rings in his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat + fiddler, who fiddled with his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the + goggle-eyed negro, with a self-satisfied face, who simpered on every + <a class="pagenum" id="page542" title="542"> </a>body, and flourished the tambourine, was placed like an umbrella in the + corner, to be out of the way.</p> + + <p>The fat fiddler called out for the gentlemen to choose their partners + for a quadrille. Then came the long premonitory screeching of the + fiddle-bow across the cat-gut; then the slight, tremulous jingle of the + tambourine, as if the goggle-eyed negro were dying to begin; then the + bustling and hustling, and squeezing of the couples, until they had obtained + their places in the dance. Then the scientific look of the fat fiddler, + as he opened his eyes and surveyed the whole, to see that all was + right; then the slight clearing of his throat, as he threw his head on one + side, bellowed out ‘right and left,’ and forthwith plunged into the matter, + might and main. Away he went, but fast and furious at his heels + followed the little stunted fiddler; and loud above the din of both, rose + the rattle of the tambourine. ‘Right hand across! forward two; balancez; + ladies chain; forward four; dos-à-dos; chassez to the right; + cross over; all round;’ here, there, every where, and all over—he was + up to it all. In vain the dancers fairly flew; the fat fiddler was equal + to all emergencies; he never lagged; he was sometimes too fast, but + never—no, not for a single instant—was he behind.</p> + + <p>‘Whew!’ said he, as he gave the final flourish of his bow, and laying + it aside, wiped his forehead on his coat-sleeve, and called for a tumbler + of cold water. And thereupon the stunted fiddler and the tambourine + made the same request; the latter suggesting that his glass might + be tempered with a ‘small spirt of gin,’ without hurting his feelings.</p> + + <p>In that dance, the lightest step and merriest voice was that of Harson, + who led out the bride, and footed it there with the best of them; and + who through the whole evening was bustling around the room, with a + kind word for every one, and as much at home as if the house, and the + company, and even the bride, belonged to him. And in fact, one or two + of the guests—but they were unsophisticated people from the country—were + for some time under the delusion that Harry was the bridegroom, + instead of the quiet young fellow who was seen walking about + the rooms, talking to the disagreeable old women, and getting partners + for the ugly young ones, without their knowing it; but all in such an + unobtrusive manner that he seemed quite a nobody when compared with + Harson.</p> + + <p>But there must be an end even to the merriest meetings; and when + they had kept it up until the night had got among the small hours, they + began to drop off. And here, amid the adieus of departing guests, we + will take our leave of the young couple; for it is far pleasanter to bid + farewell to those whose friendship we have cherished when hope is strong + and bright, than when care or disappointment has flung its shadow over + their hearts.</p> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER THE LAST.</h4> + + <p>A few weeks had elapsed, and a small group were gathered one evening + at Harson’s fireside. It was composed of three persons beside + Harson. The first was a man of about fifty; he might have been + younger; and the heavy wrinkles which were scored across his forehead + <a class="pagenum" id="page543" title="543"> </a>may have been the fruit of trouble and care, for they were almost + too deep for his years; his mouth was firmly compressed, like that of + one in the habit of mastering strong feelings; and the whole character + of his face would have been stern, but for his dark, gray eye, which at + times brightened up almost to childish playfulness. This was Mr. + Colton, the father of Harson’s protegé, Annie. The child herself was + seated on Harson’s knee, sound asleep, with her head resting on his + breast. The only other person in the group was the wife of Mr. Colton. + She was quite young, and had once possessed great beauty—the beauty + of youth and happiness; but that was gone, and in its place was the patient + look of one who had suffered much, and in silence. She spoke + seldom, and in a low tone, so soft and musical that one regretted when + the voice ceased.</p> + + <p>‘Your letter,’ said Mr. Colton, in continuation of a previous conversation, + ‘put an end to all my plans respecting my poor niece. I had + hoped to assist her; for knowing her father’s hostility to her, I feared + that she might be in want. Her death was a very melancholy one.’</p> + + <p>He looked in the fire in deep thought, and for a short time a silence + ensued which no one seemed inclined to break.</p> + + <p>‘I never saw her,’ said his wife, after some moments; ‘I think <em>you</em> + did.’</p> + + <p>‘Yes, once—at the trial,’ replied he, uttering the last words with an + effort, as if the subject were painful. ‘She was very beautiful.’</p> + + <p>‘Did she resemble her father?’ inquired Mrs. Colton.</p> + + <p>‘Perhaps I can settle that question more easily than any one,’ said + Harson, rising up, ‘by letting you judge for yourself.’</p> + + <p>He went to a small curtain which hung against the wall, and drawing + it aside, disclosed a portrait of Rust’s daughter—the same which + Rust had brooded over with such mingled emotions on the night previous + to the murder. The same childlike, innocent smile, played round + the small, dimpled mouth; the same calm, thoughtful expression of intellect + mingled with gentleness, shone out of the eyes. All was as it + was when father and child last looked upon it—the criminal and her + accuser. Every line was unaltered; but where were they? <span class="special_emphasis">Dust</span>! + They had acted their part on earth; their love, their hate, their fears, + their remorse, were past. The tide of time was hurrying on, bringing + life and death, and hopes and fears to others, but sweeping from the + earth all trace of their footsteps. To them forever, aye even until the + last trump, time and thought, and care and feeling, had no existence!</p> + + <p>Mrs. Colton’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the picture. + ‘She deserved a happier fate,’ said she, in a subdued tone, as if she + feared to disturb the spell which seemed to hang about it.</p> + + <p>‘It was ordained for the best,’ replied Harson, in a grave tone, as he + regarded the portrait with a kind of solemn interest. Then, after a moment, + he added: ‘That <em>was</em> her, before want and suffering had laid + their iron finger upon her. When I saw her, she was dead. She was + very beautiful even then; but in the short time that had elapsed since + her father’s imprisonment, the work of years had been performed; she + seemed much older and thinner, and more care-worn.’</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page544" title="544"> </a>‘How did you get this?’ inquired Mr. Colton, pointing to the picture.</p> + + <p>‘A friend of mine, the person who aided the girl in her last moments, + accidentally learned that it was for sale, and begged me to buy it. He + was too poor to do it, and I was willing to gratify him; and so the picture + became mine.’</p> + + <p>Mr. Colton looked at him for a few moments, as if on the point of + making some remark, and then walked to the other end of the room and + took a seat without a word. He was aroused by the child climbing on + his knee, and putting her arms about his neck.</p> + + <p>‘God protect you, my child!’ said he, laying his hand affectionately + on her head; ‘may you never know the misery which has fallen upon + that poor girl!’</p> + + <p>The words were intended to be inaudible, but they reached the ear + of his wife, who going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, said + in a low voice: ‘Come, come, George, do not give way to these feelings. + You must not be gloomy.’</p> + + <p>He looked at her sadly, and then placing his finger on his heart, said: + ‘Is not what has been going on here, for years, enough to wither to the + root every feeling of cheerfulness, so that it should never again put forth + a blossom?’</p> + + <p>‘Hush! hush!’ interrupted his wife, in a whisper; ‘if you <em>have</em> suffered, + you have gained at last what you have always prayed for; while + <em>he</em>, the one who caused it all, has paid the penalty of his misdeeds. + Remember what his fate was.’ She pointed to the picture: ‘Remember + too, the fate of his only child. George, George! his punishment + has been terrible, even in <em>this</em> world!’</p> + + <p>‘You are right, Mary—<span class="special_name">God</span> forgive me! I’ll think of it no more. + <em>He</em> and I were nursed in the same arms, and watched by the same fond + mother. From the bottom of my heart I forgive him. It would be sacrilege + to her memory, for me to harbor an unkind feeling toward even + a stranger, if she had loved him.’</p> + + <p>He was silent for a moment, and then addressing Harson, enquired:</p> + + <p>‘Who is this Mr. Kornicker?’</p> + + <p>‘A poor fellow, with little to help him through the world but careless + habits and a good heart.’</p> + + <p>‘What character does he bear?’ inquired the other.</p> + + <p>‘Such as might be expected from his position,’ replied Harson; ‘full + of flaws, but with a vein of gold running through it. Nature has given + him fine feelings, and fortune, unluckily, has placed him in a situation + where such feelings are impediments rather than otherwise. But he is + a noble fellow for all that.’</p> + + <p>‘Where can he be found?’ asked his guest.</p> + + <p>Harson probably anticipated the object of this inquiry, for he said + with a laugh:</p> + + <p>‘He has been taken care of; he has been placed where the means of + livelihood and competence are in his grasp, if he will but work for them. + And what is better yet, he seems disposed to do so, although not much + can be expected of him at first. I do not think,’ added he, ‘that it contributes + to the happiness of a young man, with a long life before him, to + <a class="pagenum" id="page545" title="545"> </a>be altogether idle. I will do all that I can to help him; but he must + work. It will be more easy for him as he gets used to the traces.’</p> + + <p>The stranger acquiesced in this remark, and then added: ‘I will take + his address, nevertheless, for I must see him when I return to the city, + which will be very shortly; but you seem to have anticipated me in + every thing. Even the lawyer, Mr. Holmes, declined to be paid for his + services. He said that <em>this</em> was not strictly a business matter, and that + what he had done was out of friendship for you, and that I had better + pocket the fee and drop the subject; at the same time, he said he was + going to dinner, and asked me to join him, which I did, and a very + pleasant time we had of it.’</p> + + <p>A good-natured laugh was indulged at the peculiarities of the old + lawyer, and many stories told of him, and of others who have figured + in this history. Nor was it until the little clock over the mantel-piece + seemed to give a very vehement wag of its pendulum as it struck twelve, + and Spite, who had been asleep in the corner, bounced up, alarmed at + the lateness of the night, and barked vociferously, that they dreamed of + going to bed.</p> + + <p>The strangers were Harson’s guests that night; and the old man, + having escorted them to their room, and wished them good night, was + himself soon in bed and asleep.</p> + + <p>Bright and early the next morning, they were astir; for they were to + leave the city, and Harson was up and ready to see them off. It was + a fine morning; the trees were just beginning to put forth their spring + leaves, and the grass in the public squares was looking quite fresh and + green, as they drove down to the wharf, where the steamer lay, whizzing + and puffing, and groaning as if in mortal pain, and tugging at its + cable like some shackled sea-monster struggling to escape to its home + in the deep. Early as it was, crowds were hurrying to and fro; carts + driving up and unloading; porters staggering along with trunks and + bales on their shoulders; carriages dashing up at a gallop, filled with + people afraid of being too late, and going off more leisurely after the + passengers were deposited on the wharf. People were bustling hither + and thither, elbowing their way to one place, merely to find out where + to elbow it to the next; friends were bidding each other adieu; and in + particular, a stout lady from the country, in yellow ribbons, from the + upper part of the boat was sending a confidential message to her family + and friends by a gentleman who stood in the crowd some sixty yards off.</p> + + <p>Through this throng the coach containing our friends drove, and just + in good time, for as they stepped on board, the last bell rang.</p> + + <p>‘All aboard!’ shouted the captain; ‘take in the plank.’</p> + + <p>Harson shook hands with his friends. ‘God bless thee, my child!’ + said he, pressing Annie in his arms. The next moment he stepped + on shore; and the boat glided from the dock, and shot out upon the + green water.</p> + + <p>‘Ah, Annie!’ said the old man, as he stopped waving his hand, and + turned away from the river, ‘I had hoped that you would have been + mine own as long as I lived; but it’s all right as it is. Your brother,’ + added he, ‘I did not miss much, when his parents took him, but <em>you</em> + had become a part of my home. Well, well!’</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page546" title="546"> </a>No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last + words; for Harson’s face soon recovered its usual cheerful character, + and he steadily trudged toward his home.</p> + + <p>A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.</p> + + <p>Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where + an intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he + had hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character, + and temper his fierce passions—the offspring of persecution and + suffering.</p> + + <p>Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent + and rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but + the Law being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its + eyes open, she gradually fell into her old habits, reöpened her ‘seminary + for lambs;’ and from the great quantity of her disciples which + frequent the thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting + along prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming + a partner in the concern, and made several overtures to that + effect, which might have been accepted by the lady, had he not objected + to being deprived of his eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies + from passers-by. It was in vain that the lady represented to him + that this would be the making of their respective fortunes; that blind + beggars, particularly if they were remarkably disgusting, as was the + case with him, had been known to retire with handsome fortunes, and + that some of them even bought snug little farms in the country, and kept + a horse and ‘shay.’ Mr. Snork however, was obstinate; his proposals + were accordingly rejected, and he returned disconsolately to his + abode, which was now lonely, his wife having paid a visit to the penitentiary, + for the benefit of the country air.</p> + + <p>The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house, + as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry’s + heavy step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor; + and although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old + and rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner, + where he passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up + his dim eyes to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing + hand on his head: all else is as it was in that little household; and + that it may long continue, is our warmest wish.</p> + + <h4 class="chapter_title">CONCLUSION.</h4> + + <p>Mr. Stites’ manuscript was written at different times, and in different + hands. The little man was evidently troubled with a defective + memory, (although I would not tell him so for the world,) and has permitted + many strange mistakes and anachronisms to creep into his tale, + which inclines me to think that the whole matter is not so authentic as + he pretends, but has been gleaned in various parcels from the regions of + romance. But as he is not a little tetchy on the score of his veracity, I + can only suggest that the tale be regarded by his good natured readers + rather as a fiction than sober truth.</p> + + <p>From beginning to end, strong disapprobation has been expressed by + <a class="pagenum" id="page547" title="547"> </a>Mr. Snagg, who says that ‘that d—d dog is enough to kill any story, + and that for his part, he doesn’t think much of Stites; never did, and + never will; and that a single hair of Slaughter’s tail was worth Stites’ + marrow, fat and kidneys, all done up together.’</p> + + <p>It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode + of disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by + which means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in + the manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr. + <span class="special_name">Stites</span> himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom + he swears ‘he never shall be able to stomach.’</p> + + <p>In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. The same + mystery hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was + excited respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had + left it shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception + of Mr. Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it + is best that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings + nor bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring excitement + and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for + solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from + the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.</p> + + <p>But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell!</p> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">John Quod.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">THE PAST.</h2> + + + <div class="poem"> + <h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Despair</span> not, though thy course is drear,</p> + <p class="i2">The past has pleasures for us all;</p> + <p>Bright scenes and things to hearts most dear,</p> + <p class="i2">And those how fondly we recall.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such as some lovely girl we knew;</p> + <p class="i2">Such as some touching song we heard;</p> + <p>Such as some evening spent, when flew</p> + <p class="i2">The hours as swift as passing bird.</p> + </div> + + + <h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Such as some well-tried friend we had;</p> + <p class="i2">Such as some acts of kindness done,</p> + <p>Yet rising up to make us glad,</p> + <p class="i2">And so will rise when years are gone.</p> + </div> + + + <h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Despair not! still be innocent;</p> + <p class="i2">Admire the beautiful, the good,</p> + <p>And when the cry of woe is sent,</p> + <p class="i2">Turn to relieve, in pitying mood.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>So shall the present, when 'tis past,</p> + <p class="i2">Rich with harmonious scenes appear,</p> + <p>No gloomy shadows o'er it cast,</p> + <p class="i2">No spectres there, to make thee fear.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">E. G.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page548" title="548"> </a>THE HEARTH OF HOME.</h2> + + <p class="byline">BY MARY E. HEWITT.</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> storm around my dwelling sweeps,</p> + <p>And while the dry boughs fierce it reaps,</p> + <p>My heart within a vigil keeps,</p> + <p class="i2">The warm and cheering hearth beside;</p> + <p>And as I mark the kindling glow</p> + <p>Brightly o’er all its radiance throw,</p> + <p>Back to the years my memories flow,</p> + <p class="i2">When Rome sat on her hills in pride;</p> + <p>When every stream and grove and tree</p> + <p>And fountain had its deity.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The hearth was then, ’mong low and great,</p> + <p>Unto the Lares consecrate:</p> + <p>The youth arrived to man’s estate</p> + <p class="i2">There offered up his golden heart;</p> + <p>Thither, when overwhelmed with dread,</p> + <p>The stranger still for refuge fled,</p> + <p>Was kindly cheered, and warmed, and fed,</p> + <p class="i2">Till he might fearless thence depart:</p> + <p>And there the slave, a slave no more,</p> + <p>Hung reverent up the chain he wore.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Full many a change the hearth hath known;</p> + <p>The Druid fire, the curfew’s tone,</p> + <p>The log that bright at yule-tide shone,</p> + <p class="i2">The merry sports of Hallow-e’en;</p> + <p>Yet still where’er a home is found,</p> + <p>Gather the warm affections round,</p> + <p>And there the notes of mirth resound,</p> + <p class="i2">The voice of wisdom heard between:</p> + <p>And welcomed there with words of grace,</p> + <p>The stranger finds a resting place.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh! wheresoe’er our feet may roam,</p> + <p>Still sacred is the hearth of home;</p> + <p>Whether beneath the princely dome,</p> + <p class="i2">Or peasant’s lowly roof it be,</p> + <p>For home the wanderer ever yearns;</p> + <p>Backward to where its hearth-fire burns,</p> + <p>Like to the wife of old, he turns</p> + <p class="i2">Ever the eyes of memory.</p> + <p>Back where his heart he offered first—</p> + <p>Back where his fond young hopes he nursed.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>My humble hearth though all disdain,</p> + <p>Here may I cast aside the chain</p> + <p>The world hath coldly on me lain;</p> + <p class="i2">Here to my <span class="special_name">Lares</span> offer up</p> + <p>The warm prayer of a grateful heart;</p> + <p><span class="special_name">Thou</span> that my household guardian art,</p> + <p>That dost to me thine aid impart,</p> + <p class="i2">And with thy mercy fill’st my cup;</p> + <p>Strengthen the hope within my soul,</p> + <p>Till I in faith may reach the goal.</p> + </div> + </div> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page549" title="549"> </a>PROFESSOR SHAW.</h2> + + <p class="subtitle">A SKETCH.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Plutarch Shaw</span>, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has + been a matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious + laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured, + propped up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent + victim of ‘circumstances,’ and that very common error of putting + the saddle on the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to + place this matter in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure + an honest man, who was alway given to roam over much territory, + was suddenly placed upon the limits, and one of the most profound + explorers of the curious became himself for the time being a + curiosity.</p> + + <p>Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to + stand near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his + specimens, on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his + eloquence. A bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to + set him half crazy, and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges + against the bulwarks of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out + with his descriptions, and makes him only tolerable at arm’s length. + The beetles and butterflies which he has transfixed are innumerable; + and he is perpetually syringing down the humming-birds, as stationary + on vibrating wings, these beautiful creatures of the air plunge their + beaks deep into the cups of flowers. With him pin-money is an item. + If he marks any thing curious in the natural world, he ‘sticks a pin + there,’ and keeps it for future reference; any thing from a lady-bug + ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard back, where you would + think no wings existed, and fly away, to an offensive black beetle that + snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against the wall, thence upward in + the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as her sublimest emblem, the + proudest of the proud, the bird of our own mountains, and the eagle of + our own skies.</p> + + <p class="quotation">‘I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,’</p> + + <p>writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection + of worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved + in spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some + dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness + and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some + green monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon’s + land; and finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be + put in a collection, which by the by, he lately <em>was</em>. It was a great era + in his life time when he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to + do with the present story, and must be told shortly. He threw a stone + at him, it seems, to frighten him out of the bushes, where by dint of + <a class="pagenum" id="page550" title="550"> </a>sneaking he discovered something with a white and black fur, moving + about in a short compass. Breathless with excitement, standing on tip-toe, + dodging his head among the brambles, all ready, and meaning to + have a shot at him ‘pretty soon,’ he was whispering to himself, telling + himself in a mysterious voice to ‘hold fast,’ not to budge, but wait for + the next movement; when this <em>pole-cat</em>—there is a distinction, it is + well known in the species, nor in the present instance was it a ‘distinction + without a difference’—opened the batteries with the precision + of an artillery officer. ‘O my eyes!’ was the exclamation of Professor + Shaw, ‘my eyes! my eyes! my eyes!’ It was a great era in his life + time also when he shot a plover; <em>that</em> however has little to do with the + present story, and must be told shortly. It was on the Big Plains, where + not a tree nor shrub may be seen for miles around; where ambuscades + are unknown, and it is very hard to steal a march upon the timid birds + which are frightened at a very shadow; only they do not fear the flocks + and herds which pasture upon the plains, but tamely pick up the worms + beneath their feet. Professor Shaw hit upon an expedient to surprise + them, which no other person would have thought of, than one of his extreme + ingenuity: a big box, opened at both ends, into which he crawled + with fowling-piece in hand. First, however, he procured an ox-hide at + the stall of a neighboring farm, with all its apparatus of horns, and + placed it over the box, to give it the appearance at a distance, of a <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">bonâ + fide</em> ox. Sure enough, this scheme worked well. On came the plovers, + hopping about with much unconcern. Shaw chuckled. He flattered + himself that he should be the death of some of them, if his own life + were only spared a few moments. While he hammered the flint of his + fowling-piece with an old jack-knife, he heard a distant rumbling sound, + which soon waxed terrible, and caused him to thrust out his head. + Thunder and Mars! what should he do? If he ran, it was all up with + him, and he was a dead man if he staid where he was. A wild bull + of the prairies was cutting up shines at no great distance, tearing up + the sod with hoofs and horns, and threatening to demolish that refuge + of lies. Shaw poked out his head, and drew it in again, clutching his + fowling-piece convulsively, and trembling in an agony of fear. Involuntarily + he began to say his prayers. ‘Our Father who art in heaven,’ + said he, with great fervor. The bull was now up, bellowing in a tumultuous + passion, galloping round and round in circles which were diminishing + with every turn, getting his horns ready to toss the whole fiction + of an ox, box, hide, horns, Plutarch Shaw and all, into the air. ‘Help! + help!’ shrieked the philosopher; ‘I’ll come out; I must, I must, I <em>must!</em>’ + And he <em>did</em> come out, by far the most sneaking object for miles around + on the Big Plains. Some men who were hunting plover from a wagon, + (which is the right way,) saw his fantastic position with mingled laughter + and alarm. They drove to his assistance, but the horses shyed off at + the terrific conduct of the bull, whose onslaught was now made upon + the box, which he attacked hoof and horn. Mr. Shaw had barely + strength to reach the shelter of the wagon, into which he was taken, + much chap-fallen, and resuscitated with brandy-and-water, which were + luckily at hand.</p> + + <p>He was an ‘odd fish,’ unanimously so styled, by those who knew him, + <a class="pagenum" id="page551" title="551"> </a>nor did his appearance belie him, as he started forth on a geological excursion + in the month of May last, making poems and tuning pianos by + the way. He strung up the old harpsicords to the satisfaction of the + country girls, who thought he ‘played on music’ with great skill, but + his eyes were the very wildest. Was Professor Shaw crazy? By no + means. As a proof of it, he had written several poems as voluminous as + the Fredoniad; which were unavailing for the present, but which he <em>did</em> + hope that his ‘country would not willingly let die;’ added to this, some + marches in double quick time, some intricate and inwoven harmonies + in the transcendental style, stanzas set to music, thrown forth when the + excitement was upon him, and fugitives from justice. Yet all these + were nothing, to judge by dark and mysterious hints which were given + out, of some <span class="small_all_caps">GREAT WORK</span> at which he was now laboring, which the + world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph) would be <em>compelled</em> + to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not belie him. Whoever + might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were unquestionably the very + longest, by the assistance of which he had lately won a foot-race on the + Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him to pursue his studies + for the ministry. ‘Accoutred as he was,’ on one fine day in the month + of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country with a walking-stick, + furnished at the extremity with a small hammer. Absorbed in + revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last in a romantic + valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks, + and collecting specimens for his cabinet.</p> + + <p>The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind + of Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the + hill sides and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense, + and the birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the + blossoms of the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of + those swelling hills which rose above each other, gently and far away, + till their last undulating lines were limited by the horizon’s blue verge. + The eye wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which + included the boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers, + valleys and fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and + developed herself in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding + of the spring, or in the year’s gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the + hint and erected an asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature, + most kind and gentle saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet + haunts may touch her beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating + sunshine, in the fields garnished so exquisitely by our good + God, in the religious woods, the circling hills, and the unbounded sky, + there is a force of healing, when Art has consigned the victim to despair, + and the soothing hand aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently + re-conducts the lost mind through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet + consolation in the passing breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping + flower.</p> + + <p>Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones, + gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist + prying into his crucible, he was seeking for treasures, cracking up + rocks into the size of sugar-lumps, and Macadamizing all the place for + <a class="pagenum" id="page552" title="552"> </a>yards round. His shadow stalked with him with colossal strides, according + to the declension of the sun, and the hammer in his shadowy + arm fell on the projection of the shadowy rocks. But not farther off + than where his grotesque head and slanting extremity were measured + on the next wall, two clowns had gee’d their oxen under a tree, and left + their basket of potatoes in the furrow, (w—hoy—gee, there—I tell yer + to gee!) for the sake of giving their undivided attention to the Professor. + Geology they had never heard of, beyond its application to + stone fence; so they considered the conduct of a man very queer indeed, + who was muttering to himself, and filling his pocket full of stones. + After a little silence, they nodded to each other with a knowing look, + and said with one consent, ‘He’s as crazy as a coot.’ They approached + Mr. Shaw, dubiously. ‘See his eyes!’ said they; ‘aint they wild? + Mister?’ said the elder clown.</p> + + <p>Shaw made no reply.</p> + + <p>‘Mister, look a-here; aint you—aint you——?’</p> + + <p>‘Fel-spar,’ said Shaw, cabalistically.</p> + + <p>‘Oh dear me! that’s enough! My dear feller, we’ve got a duty + to perform. I guess we know where you come from. Mister, aint + <span class="keep_together">you——?’</span></p> + + <p>‘Are you addressing me?’ said Professor Shaw, mildly, looking up. + ‘Are you addressing your remarks to me, my friend?</p> + + <p>‘Wonderful cunnin’, but it wont do. ’Twont sarve you; I’m a-feard + we shall have <span class="keep_together">to——’</span></p> + + <p>‘Well, Sir, my name is Shaw.’</p> + + <p>‘What’s that you got onto your cane? What you doin’ in Queens + cëounty? Do tell, aint you——got loose from somewhar? Honor + bright!’</p> + + <p>The professor, lost in amazement, answered only by a broad stare. + He then bethought him that two lunatics had escaped from yonder mansion. + The idea satisfied his mind, and surprise gave way at once to a + smile, full of benevolence and pity. ‘My poor friends,’ said he, ‘do go + back; you have surely wandered from home; do go up the hill—do + go up the hill.’ Then stamping his foot with an air of authority, he + exclaimed, stretching out the hammer of his cane, ‘Go back to the + asylum, in-stan-taneously!’</p> + + <p>‘I guess the one in the loft will be long enough,’ whispered the rustic; + ‘but fetch the longest of the two <em>ropes</em>, and make haste. Oh, he’s + stark!’</p> + + <p>‘Ah! how sad!’ soliloquized Professor Shaw, as both of his new + friends retreated, and one hurried out of sight, ‘how sad a spectacle! + the deluded, wandering mind, told by such unerring symptoms; the wild + eye, strange words, and fantastic pleasantness; reason hurled from her + own throne, and that steady light exchanged for the fitful flickering over + decay! They mistake me for one of their melancholy fraternity, poor + lunatics! whereas my lamp of life, and reason, it appears to me, never + shone brighter. I shall yet work out something of which my country + will be proud, and which shall inscribe on an enduring pedestal the + name of <span class="special_name">Shaw</span>.’ The professor (with his hammer) split a rock. ‘If + those men come back, what had I better do with them? I will contemplate + <a class="pagenum" id="page553" title="553"> </a>the remarkable phenomenon of the mind in ruins. Humanity + suggests to me that I ought to coax them back with sophistry as far as + the garden-gate, and then holler for help.’ Shaw was the best hearted + of men; he would not hurt a human being in the world, cruel as he + was to bugs, and to centipedes an ‘outer barbarian.’ In the course of + ten minutes he was at the base of a large rock, scooping out garnets, + and thinking casually of that ‘great work which his country would not + willingly let die,’ when a rope was let over his head and shoulders from + above, and the professor was noosed. The countrymen jumped down, + and began to drag him from the other end, squeezing his bowels, and + winding him round and round, till coming to close quarters, they knocked + his hat off, wrested his hammer out of his hand, and seizing him by the + collar, almost throttled him with the knuckles of their immense fists.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (Kicking violently.) Murder! murder! murder!</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. It won’t do no good; we got yer; you may as well come + fust as last. You’re crazy as a coot, and wuss now than when we fus + see you. Your eyes shows it.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. I’ll go with you, my friends, but don’t kill me; oh! I beseech + you don’t kill me!</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. No, we wont hurt you; only come along to the house. + Come along.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Take your knuckles out of my throat, please. <em>Aside.</em> Their + hallucination is extreme; the symptoms of their disease have taken a + form the most vindictive. Yes, my friends, conduct me safe. We shall + soon reach the house; then all will be explained.</p> + + <p>At this very hour an amusing scene was enacting among the lunatics + in the large hall of the asylum. One who professed magnetism was + trying his skill upon a subject, to the great entertainment of his fellows. + He was making the passes after a singular fashion, upon a docile fellow + who sat bolt upright in a chair with a face of the most stolid gravity. + Standing at a distance, he would rush up with long strides, make a wavy + flourish with his hands over the face of the subject, and retreat as rapidly. + Then with eager, swelling eyes, aiming with the fore-finger of + each hand, he would run up and point at some phrenological bump upon + the cranium. But the patient sat immovable, and was neither to be + soothed into slumber, nor coaxed into giving any indication that the organs + were excited; as is the case with the well-drilled <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protegés</em> of your + itinerant lecturers.</p> + + <p>Nearly all the inmates were witnesses of this scene, except a few who + were restricted, and one fair girl who walked in the garden sobbing; + and never did tears fall out of more beautiful eyes, or shed over such a + sweet face the interest of sorrow. They gushed profusely on the rosebud + in her hand; fit emblem of herself; for she had not yet broke into + the bloom of womanhood. Where tears flow, despair has been already + softened to sorrow, and smiles may yet shine out of the darkness, as the + bow of promise bridges only a firmament of cloud. This poor creature, + frightened at a disturbance at the gate, fled like a fawn to her own apartment. + The professor was lugged in by the head and ears, with unnecessary + roughness. Appearances were much against him, as he + always had a crazy look. His strange dress and equipments, his unshaven + <a class="pagenum" id="page554" title="554"> </a>beard, his long hair straggling over his forehead, his long nose and + long legs, his much-abused and bunged-up hat, which yawned wide + open at the crown and showed the lining, wore the external tokens of a + mind ill at ease. Added to this, a sickly smile shed a yellow glare over + his features, of which the effect was neither natural nor pleasant; and + as the lunatics pressed around, and the clowns still clutched him by the + throat, even that passed away, and left an expression of bewilderment + and undisguised dismay. At that moment the physician arrived, and + glancing at the new subject just brought to the establishment, and concluding + that his present wildness would need some coercion at first, requested + him to be brought into the nearest apartment. The four formed + a singular group. ‘Sit down,’ said the doctor, nodding calmly to the + professor, as he prepared to study the case. ‘Ha! ha!’ exclaimed Professor + Shaw, dropping into a chair, and striving hard to be amused at + his predicament, ‘ha! ha! ha! My dear Sir, ha! ha! yes, I think I + may say ha! ha! ha!’—and he laughed so obstreperously as to set the + whole company in a roar. ‘This excursion for scientific purposes; + near coming to an unpleasant termination; some of your poor fellows, + doctor,’ casting a knowing look at the clowns, ‘are strongly possessed + they brought me here against my will.’</p> + + <p>The doctor smiled.</p> + + <p>‘Let me explain all,’ said Mr. Shaw, recovering breath, and speaking + with preternatural calmness. ‘Oblige me first by having those men removed. + Their presence disturbs me. I pity them from my lowest + soul; but they have—it is ridiculous—ha! ha! ha! yes, it <em>is</em> ridiculous—but + they have hurt me very much and disturbed my equanimity. + You should confine them more strictly, Sir, and not let them go at large + to murder strangers by the way-side.’</p> + + <p>The doctor smiled.</p> + + <p>‘In search of relaxation, during the intervals of a great work which I + have in hand, having been made an honorary member of the Tinnecum + Association, I came here for the prosecution of scientific purposes, + and for the collection of botanical and mineralogical specimens, + which I have at present in my breeches pocket.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. He! he! he! that’s enough—see his eyes!</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (<em>Smiling.</em>) Doctor, how long have these subjects been in + your institution? Their insanity has not taken a very mild form. + Will you oblige me by removing them from the room? Indeed it hurts + me to see the immortal mind astray.</p> + + <p>The doctor smiled.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (<em>Enthusiastically.</em>) As I entered these doors, a most lovely + being shot across my path. It was but an instant; a quick light, a + momentary flash, and all was gone! But it was enough! I saw her! + I never shall forget her. Who is she? That sweet girl has impressed + her image on my soul!</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. My friend, be calm.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Oh, my dear Sir! understand me. I <em>am</em> calm, I <em>am</em> calm.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Perhaps you will be so kind as to inform me where your + <em>friends</em> reside, and when you left them upon this journey.</p> + + <p>‘My friends!’ exclaimed the professor, with a bitter sneer; ‘who are + <a class="pagenum" id="page555" title="555"> </a>my friends? Where have I found any whose friendship was other than + a name? My books, my cabinet, my studies, the great work on which + I am now laboring—these are my friends; it is only through these + that I shall be raised to fame. <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sic itur ad astra.</em>’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. I am satisfied that we had better secure——</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Do you want any assistance, Sir? I will willingly help you + to get these poor fellows to their rooms.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. He’s the cunningest we ever seen.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Yes, he would deceive any one. Wait a minute my men.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. If you don’t need me I’ll bid you good day; I can’t stay + any longer.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Oh no, we can’t let you go, in common humanity, till we + have communicated with your friends.</p> + + <p>Professor Shaw, in the utmost alarm, attempted to plunge out of the + room. He was laid violent hands on by all three; his indignation boiled + over; he struggled most desperately, knocked down the doctor, and attempted + to jump out of the window, but in the end was overcome, a + straight-jacket put on him, the stones were taken out of his pocket, he + was conducted to a separate apartment, and as the shades of night fell + around him, he almost doubted himself whether he was in his sound + mind. His wits seemed to be indeed scattered. In vain he tried to collect + them, and to realize his present position, which was the most false + and unfortunate one in which he had ever been placed. He charged + the Devil with conspiracy. He had already sneered at the suggestion + of having friends; how should he be the victim and laughter of his enemies! + He imagined them holding their gaunt sides and shaking with a + spectre-like malignity. Then he thought of the fair girl whom he had + seen in the garden shedding tears on roses, and strove to weave a chaplet + of verse which should be more unfading than flowers. What a + strange destiny was his! The victim of untoward accidents, persecuted + by some evil spirit, and leading an aimless, desultory life, which he + yet feared would lead on to lunacy. What should he do in the present + instance? Be patient? Yes, he would be calm, forgiving, philosophical + as ever. Footsteps are approaching; the door of his cell opens; + perhaps it is already the token of his release. Yes, one of his own + townsmen enters. Alas! he owed the professor a grudge, and assured + the doctor that he was cracked, and begged him to hold on to him by all + means; he would go and inform his friends. ‘Ha! ha! ha!’ exclaimed + Shaw, as the door closed; ‘there it is again; in luck as usual; + ha! ha! ha!—ha! ha! ha!’</p> + + <p>As it grew dark, and he lay on his pallet, a crowd of thoughts and imaginations + pursued him through a long sleep, and when he opened his + eyes to the morning light, he gazed around the strange place with astonishment, + and tried in vain to persuade himself that his present position + was not a dream.</p> + + <p>In three days he was released from limbo; retracing his steps, with + all the bugs and specimens which he had collected. And, for those who + feel an interest in Professor Shaw, it may be agreeable to know, that in + his wanderings, having discovered in a green lane, on the margin of a + duck-pond, a district school in want of a pedagogue, he forthwith assumed + <a class="pagenum" id="page556" title="556"> </a>the birch, and may be now seen at almost any hour of the day, in + the midst of his noisy populace, commanding silence, or dusting them on + their least honorable parts. ‘Tough, are you? I’ll see if I can find a + tender spot. Come, no bawling, or I’ll flog you till you stop. Thomas + Jones, take your book, and stick your nose in the c-o-rner. First division + may go out. First class in <span class="keep_together">geography——’</span></p> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">F. W. S.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">STANZAS</h2> + <p class="subtitle">TO THE SPIRITS OF MY THREE DEPARTED SISTERS.</p> + <p class="subtitle">WRITTEN AT MID-WINTER.</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Sweet</span> sisters! ye have passed away,</p> + <p class="i2">In solemn silence one by one,</p> + <p>And left a brother here to stray,</p> + <p class="i2">In doubt and darkness—and alone!</p> + <p>For like three lamps of holy flame,</p> + <p class="i2">Ye shone upon my weary way,</p> + <p>Till a chill breath from heaven came,</p> + <p class="i2">And quenched for aye the kindly ray.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Where are ye now?—where are ye now?</p> + <p class="i2">Those loving hearts and spirits, where!</p> + <p>O’er three new graves in grief I bow,</p> + <p class="i2">But ye are gone—ye are not there!</p> + <p>The winds that sigh while wandering by,</p> + <p class="i2">Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,</p> + <p>And sing in mournful melody,</p> + <p class="i2">O’er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The birds that sang when ye were here,</p> + <p class="i2">Are singing in another clime;</p> + <p>Have left the hedge and forest sere,</p> + <p class="i2">And gone where all is summer-time.</p> + <p>The frail bright flowers that bloom’d around,</p> + <p class="i2">When ye were blooming bright as they,</p> + <p>Lie crushed and withered on the ground,</p> + <p class="i2">Their fragrance heavenward passed away.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And ye are gone where genial skies</p> + <p class="i2">And radiant suns eternal shine,</p> + <p>Where peaceful songs forever rise,</p> + <p class="i2">From saintly tongues and lips divine.</p> + <p>And like the flowers whose sweet perfume</p> + <p class="i2">Has left the soil and risen above,</p> + <p>Has risen from your silent tomb</p> + <p class="i2">The holy fragrance of your love.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But often when the silver beams</p> + <p class="i2">Of the pale stars are on my bed,</p> + <p>Ye come among my sweetest dreams,</p> + <p class="i2">And bend in silence o’er my head;</p> + <p>And throngs of bright imaginings</p> + <p class="i2">Float round and o’er me till the dawn;</p> + <p>I hear the fluttering of wings!</p> + <p class="i2">I start—I wake! but ye are gone.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page557" title="557"> </a>Oh! I am sad; yet still the thought</p> + <p class="i2">That when this tired though willing hand</p> + <p>Its earthly destiny hath wrought,</p> + <p class="i2">Ye wait me in that distant land,</p> + <p>And that ye long to have me there,</p> + <p class="i2">More that I pine your absence here,</p> + <p>Shall heal the touch of every care</p> + <p class="i2">And quench the sting of every fear.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>No marble stands with towering shaft</p> + <p class="i2">To catch the stranger’s curious eye;</p> + <p>No tablet graved with flattering craft,</p> + <p class="i2">Tells where your silent ashes lie;</p> + <p>But there is one secluded spot</p> + <p class="i2">In the deep shadows of my soul,</p> + <p>Where stranger foot intrudeth not,</p> + <p class="i2">Nor winter’s wanton tempests roll.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And there in Friendship’s burial-ground</p> + <p class="i2">The willow of remembrance bends,</p> + <p>And ye my sisters there have found</p> + <p class="i2">A home among my choicest friends;</p> + <p>And modelled with etherial grace,</p> + <p class="i2">The form of <span class="special_name">Hope</span> with heavenward eyes,</p> + <p>Stands calmly on your burial-place,</p> + <p class="i2">And points her finger to the skies.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">I. G. Holland.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.</h2> + + <p class="byline">EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">It</span> happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our + Lord one thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, <span class="special_name">Peter Von + Geist</span>, found myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on + horse-back along the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois. + The space between me and the house where I designed to stop, + and the time between then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate; + so I pricked gallantly forward; as gallantly at least as could + be expected from a tired horse, and a knight whose recreant thoughts + were intensely fixed on dollars and cents, supper, and other trifling + affairs. By dint however of much patience in the steed, and much impatience + in the rider, we got over the ground, and approached a house + that had been in sight for some distance.</p> + + <p>It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no + smoke from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or + other signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all + around the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible + on its side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the + opportunity of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and + forced my way up to the top of the knoll.</p> + + <p>The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but + the chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had + <a class="pagenum" id="page558" title="558"> </a>partly tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the + door-steps; the door itself was fastened with a huge padlock; the windows + were nearly all beaten in, and every thing about it gave evidence + that it had not been inhabited for several years. The summit of the + hill was smooth and level. A few stumps grew around the edge; and + the ground seemed to have been, at some former time, a garden.</p> + + <p>The situation was exceedingly fine, and the view on all sides very + beautiful. The eminence commanded on one hand three or four miles + of the river, and on the other an unlimited tract of prairie. At the + particular moment when I first visited it, the level sun-light came glancing + over the face of flood and field, tinging every thing that it touched + with its own mellow hue, and casting gigantic and ill-defined shadows + of the hill, the house, and myself, on the plain beyond. At the distance + of a mile and a half below, stood a couple of one-story houses, the logs + of which they were built newly hewed, evidently of recent construction. + The inhabitants of this old building, then, must have stood where I am + standing, and gazed over the vast extent of country that is spread out + before me, without meeting a single habitation of man, or any thing + having life, except perhaps a wolf or a buffalo. And it could not have + been desire of wealth that induced a family of refinement and taste, + such as the little decorations and ornaments show that this was, to select + this solitude for their home; for not more than an acre of land, at the + foot of the hill, had ever been invaded by the plough.</p> + + <p>There were several circumstances like these, that were unusual and + unaccountable; but not being in a mood just then to be much perplexed + about it, I descended the knoll, remounted, and hurried on towards + the more hospitable dwellings below.</p> + + <p>Of course, the traveller was received with a welcome, and his bodily + wants speedily and abundantly cared for. After this most important + duty had been satisfactorily performed, and quietude of spirit consequent + thereon was restored to my breast, it chanced that the host and his blue-eyed, + golden-haired, neatly-dressed, smiling-faced, half-matron, and + half-girlish young wife, who had lately set up business on their own + account, and I, seated ourselves without the door, to feel the cool air of + the evening. It chanced too that the door faced the east; and the old + house towered up darkly in the distance before us. In answer to my + inquiries, they were able to give but little information concerning it, + and that chiefly derived from others.</p> + + <p>It appeared that there was on the other side of the river, and a little + lower down, a small settlement. It had stood there from time immemorial; + at least, the memory of the tidy little wife did not run to the contrary, + and she had received her birth and education there, and ought to + know. She remembered, one of the first things that she could remember, + a middle-aged gentleman, in a black hat and coat, who used to row + over the river from the other shore in a small skiff, and walk into her + father’s store to make his purchases, with a grave, but not cold or forbidding + face, and used to pat her on the head, with such a fatherly smile, + and say a few words in such a kind tone, as to fill her little breast quite + full with delight. She remembered more distinctly, a few years later, + how this same gentleman used to come into the settlement as often as + <a class="pagenum" id="page559" title="559"> </a>once-a-week, and how glad every one appeared to meet him and shake + hands with him. The villagers seemed to repose unlimited confidence + in him. The moment he landed, half-a-dozen were ready to ask his + advice, or to show him papers, to see if all were correctly done. He + was the umpire in all differences and quarrels, and seldom failed to send + away the disputants at peace with each other. If there was a wedding, + he of course must be present. On May-day, when the boys and girls + went out into the woods to romp, and afterward to sit down to a rustic + pic-nic, he was sure to walk into their midst, just at the right moment, + bearing in his hand a wreath of flowers, so beautiful, and so tastefully + made, that all the girls cried when at length it fell to pieces; and he + would place it on the head of the Queen of May with such a gentle, + sweet little speech, that she would blush up to the tips of her ears, and + all her subjects would clap their hands and laugh out with pleasure.</p> + + <p>At Christmas parties his place was never empty; and while he was + there, mirth never flagged. Perhaps their sports were not so boisterous + as they would have been if he had not been a spectator; but they were + quite as pleasant at the time, and a great deal pleasanter when looked + back upon from the next day. He used to sit in one corner, by the + huge, roaring fire, and look on, apparently as much interested as they + themselves were. Nothing went amiss; and there was never wanting + some slight, good-natured remark or act, to rectify mistakes and set + them all going again.</p> + + <p>But much as he was loved by the villagers, he was no less respected. + They did not even know his name. Many would have been glad to, + and wearied themselves by indirect methods to find it out. But as no + one had courage to ask him, and as it never happened to fall from him + incidentally, they remained in the dark about it. He was known and + addressed however, by the appellation of ‘the Lawyer,’ as their conversation + with him was chiefly asking his advice on points of law too knotty + for them, which he freely gave. He affected no mystery or reserve; + yet there was something in his bearing, affable and unaristocratic as it + was, that caused those very men—who, if the governor of the state had + come among them, would have slapped him on the back, and offered him + a glass of liquor—to rise in his presence and approach him with respect.</p> + + <p>My bright-eyed informant, with her musical voice, recollected, a good + while ago, when she was about ten years old, and he had become gray + and wrinkled—though he never needed a staff, nor was his eye + dim—that he rowed over one spring afternoon, and requested the men + to leave their work for a few minutes, and hear something that he had + to say to them. Accordingly, they collected ‘considerable of a little + crowd’ around her father’s store. The lawyer stood in the door, while + she made her way through the throng and sat down on the door-step, at + his feet. She did not remember all that he said; only that he talked to + them for about half an hour, in a calm, conversational tone, on the + importance of building school-houses and educating their children. + They seemed to be much pleased with what he said; and after another + half hour’s free discussion, the whole village turned out, and went to + work felling trees and hewing timber; and in the course of a few days + <a class="pagenum" id="page560" title="560"> </a>a substantial school-house was erected. From that time forth, she and + all her brothers and sisters, and all her play-mates, at stated hours and + seasons, were rigidly imprisoned therein, and diligently instructed in the + rudiments of science.</p> + + <p>About this time, she and a brother who was about two years older + embarked on a voyage of discovery. They pulled up the river, at least + he did, for she only held the rudder, two miles, till they come in sight + of the residence of the Great Unknown. There stood the old house, as + she had often gazed at it with wondering eyes from the opposite bank, + just as grim, and dark, and gloomy. It had been their intention to make + an open descent upon it, and boldly beat up the premises. But now, the + building was so silent, and deserted, and frowning, their hearts failed + them, and they crept cautiously along up the southern shore till they + were concealed by a bend in the river; then striking across, they floated + down, by accident as it were, close under the northern bank. When + they arrived under the hill, on the top of which the object of their curiosity + was placed, they looked anxiously up at it; but every thing was + as silent as the grave. Seeing it thus unguarded, they took courage, + ran the skiff ashore, and prepared to land. But when on the point of + stepping on the beach, the door of the house opened, the man himself + walked out therefrom and advanced to the brow of the eminence. There + he stood; black all over, except his face, which at that instant appeared + to wear a peculiarly terrible and ferocious aspect. The children were + frightened, and hastily shoved off their little cockle-boat. But the man + came down to the edge of the water, and called them by name to return. + <em>She</em> thought how far off home was, and no one near to afford assistance + in case of need; and when she thought, she would have been glad to + have retreated as fast as possible; but her brother was commander of + the expedition, and without more words he pushed back to land.</p> + + <p>They went ashore, neither of them altogether devoid of fear and + trembling, and sat down on the grassy bank, by the side of their venerable + friend. He soon talked away their timidity; and seemed so mild + and affectionate, that in a few minutes they were chatting and laughing + as merrily as ever children could. He showed them his garden, his + trees, and flowers, and fruits. He gave them a little basket, which + they filled with strawberries, some of which he squeezed between his + fingers and rubbed on her cheeks, to see he said, if they could be made + any redder. In fine, he amused them so much with his stories, and + was so pleasant and kind, that they fell more than ever in love with + him; and after promising a dozen times to come and see him every + week while it was summer, they returned gaily home.</p> + + <p>But the old man died at last. The children went up one sunshiny + morning to pay him a visit, and found the house all still, and the door + locked. They knocked and knocked, but no one answered. They + peeped in at the window and saw him stretched at length on the bed, + fully dressed, with a handkerchief over his face, and his gray hair lying + dishevelled on the pillow. They called to him; but still there was no + answer. Then they became alarmed, and hurried home. Some men + came up, broke open the door, and found him dead. Without sickness, + or premonition of any kind, he had calmly passed away.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page561" title="561"> </a>They dug his grave by the side of the cottage, and laid him in it, + with his feet to the east and his head to the west; and left him to rest + there, unknown and unnamed in death, as he had been in life. The + whole village, men, and women, and children, mourned for him many + days. But when the days of lamentation were ended, and they saw his + face no more, though their grief abated, his memory did not, and has not + yet passed from their hearts.</p> + + <p>I observed the voice of my hostess to falter more than once, while + telling this simple and dream-like story of her childhood. I could see + by the night-lights too that her bright eyes sometimes became brighter + and sometimes dimmer; both of which circumstances made it only the + more pleasant for me to sit and listen to her words.</p> + + <p>‘There were no letters,’ she said, found in his possession from which + they could learn his name. There were no writings of any kind, except + a bundle of old papers, which she had looked into, but they seemed + to be only disconnected thoughts and memoranda of events and feelings, + and threw no light on his history. At my request she produced a lamp + and spread out the papers on the table. I turned over the worn and + time-stained manuscripts; but the leaves were loose, unnumbered, and + put together at random, and it was some time before I could find a place + to begin at.</p> + + <p>At length, however, I managed to bring a few sheets in juxtaposition, + such, that with a little stretch of the imagination I could discern a + slight connection between them. And thus, by dim lamp-light, alone, + with the silence of night around, and the old house lifting up its dark + and shadowy form in the distance, I read some of the old man’s papers.</p> + + <p>Those which I read I took the liberty of putting into my portmanteau, + arguing that though they might be of no use to me, they certainly would + be of none to their present possessors. Some of these papers having + appeared in the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, and met with ‘acceptance bounteous,’ + I am induced to transcribe for the edification of the reader, a portion of + the autobiography of the writer. It is contained in the last chapter, or + sheet, and is written in a different and more aged hand than the rest; + and gives the ‘moving why’ of the old man, in isolating himself from his + kind, in one of the great green deserts of the West, ‘for which the + speech of England hath no name.’</p> + + <h3 class="subtitle">A DREAM OF YOUTH.</h3> + + <p><span class="first_word">Sixty</span> years old! Many sorrows, many storms encountered, both + within and without, and much journeying along the road of life, have + left their traces on my features and on my head; but I am thankful + that they have not touched my heart. I live alone, but not solitary; + for I hold daily communion with the absent and beloved; communion + also, sad but sweet, with the departed. The forms of those once hated + too, are ready to rise up at my bidding; but they are never summoned. + For I wish all within me to be gentleness and repose; and it ill becomes + me on this my last failing foothold on the verge of the grave, to allow + thoughts of hatred to stir up the turbid waters of bitterness which have + been slumbering so many years in my heart.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page562" title="562"> </a>So I stand up here calmly at the end of my journey, and look back + on the path which I have trodden. And what a path! Far back it runs, + growing fainter and narrower, till I lose sight of it, an indistinct line, + in the distance. I shall not say how many steep hills it crosses, where + it might better have kept in the plains; how many deviations it makes + from a straight course, apparently for the sole purpose of wandering + through difficult places; or how often it runs along over burning sandy + deserts, parallel with, and but a few steps from, the verge of a cool and + pleasant meadow. I shall say nothing of this; for of the million of + paths that intersect this vast plain of Life, there is probably not one + which, when the traveller looks back upon it, does not like mine seem + marked out by the veriest caprice of chance. Each one gropes its way + along, like the crooked track of a blind man; and when it would appear + the easier and almost the only way to keep on up the gentle eminence, + whereon might have been found renown and happiness, by that same + constant fatality, it suddenly turns short off to one side, plunges down + into the rocky ravine, and pants on, for many a weary mile. That man + shapes not his own ends, is a truth which I felt long since, and which + each day’s experience brings home to me with the freshness of a new + discovery. It is a truth which rises up and mocks us, when we sit + down to calculate or plan for the future; and it almost staggers our + confidence in the connection between human means and the desired + result.</p> + + <p>But what a path! Proceeding out of the darkness of morning, it + struggles through a brief day, sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in + shade, and ends in the darkness of night. I glance along it, and the + care-worn faces of the companions of my manhood rise up, on either + side, and farther back, the speaking countenances of the friends of + my youth. It is but a narrow space, the land of Youth, and soon passed; + but pleasant, and full of images of beauty. The sun is not so bright + and hot upon it as on some other parts of the path; but we do not expect + happiness in the garish light of mid-day and reality. The mellowness + of a summer evening sunset lays on it, and thereby it becomes a + faëry land, a land of bliss and dreams. How throng up, as I gaze, the + forms of those early and best-loved friends! How distinct and life-like, + even at this distance, are their characters and features! They are all + there; not one name has been erased, and not one picture dimmed, on + the tablet of memory. The same warm smile of kindling pleasure + greets me; the same hands are thrown out, as if to touch my own; and + those bright eyes grow brighter as they are turned toward me.</p> + + <p>It is with such companions that I spend the last days of my earthly + pilgrimage; and thus, as I said before, though alone I am not solitary. + Is not such companionship sweet? When they visit me, I throw off old + age, as a garment. Smiling thoughts come gently over me, and life + and happiness, as of wont, course like the mad blood of fever through + my veins. I feel over again those old feelings, repass through those + same scenes, and my heart beats faster or grows pale in the same places + and in the same manner as it once did. The old fields and houses and + roads come up too, clothed at my command, in the snows of winter, or + in the beauty of summer. Old scenes, but still fresh and young; and + <a class="pagenum" id="page563" title="563"> </a>I am sometimes tempted to believe that the intervening years have been + the illusion of a dream, and that I am awakening in their midst.</p> + + <p>All this, some will say, is the weakness of age. It seems to me to + be rather its strength. The future in life is nothing; and what is the + bare present to any one? The past, then, alone is left me. And if + by living in it I can keep my affections alive, instead of letting their + fires, according to the course of nature, or rather of custom, die down + into cold ashes, I do not call myself weak if I do as much as possible + forget the present.</p> + + <p>I had, when I was young, many dreams; such as I dare say all have. + They seem such to me now, only not at all shadowy. On the contrary, + they become more and more like reality as my distance from them + increases, while their hues are as well marked and distinct as ever. + Many and bright; but the brightest of all, the dream of my youth, is + that which flashes across my recollection, when there comes into my + heart the thought of my cousin Jane!</p> + + <p>My cousin <span class="special_name">Jane</span>! Her form comes up before me, light and elastic + and joyous, as though summoned for the first time, and as though it had + not been my daily visitor for many a long year. Time writes no + wrinkle on thy snowy brow, my first love! That glad smile knows + no weariness, and I know no weariness in gazing on it. Those deep + eyes, full of feeling; those soft words that thrill; I see and hear and + feel them now, as I saw and heard and felt them first. Wilt thou never + be tired of looking up to me, with that sweet, timid, confiding, tearful + glance? Will the rising flush of thy cheek and thy subdued smile, be + always fresh as now, and as in that hour when first we met? Thou + hast been my companion, my unmurmuring, ever-present, unchanging + companion, through many a dark time and stormy scene; and thou and + the heart in which thou livest will die together.</p> + + <p>We met, my cousin Jane and I, when she was just putting on womanhood; + had begun to find out the depths of her own heart, to doubt + whether those depths ever could be filled, and to feel that unless they + were, life would be but a blank. Not that there were not many willing + enough to love her and be loved; the beauty of her form and character + drew around her a crowd of admirers. But among them all, her nice + perception saw that there was not one, of whom the exterior did not + form by far the largest part of the man. Her admirers were good, + honorable men; she respected and esteemed them; but still, gentle and + timid and humble as she was, without knowing why, she felt that there + was an impassable gulf between her and them. Their thoughts were + not like her thoughts. Her social disposition led her much into their + way, and though she tried to avoid it, she was told more than once, that + the happiness or misery of her devoted lover depended on her smiles. + It was a painful situation for one of her retiring and benevolent disposition, + to be sure; and it is doubtful to which of the two, the lover or the + mistress, every such rejection caused the keenest pang.</p> + + <p>But this was not the end of it. Malice soon prefixed to her name + the epithet scornful; and among her school-girl friends there were + some who always passed by on the other side. Poor girl! She wept + bitter tears over these sneers and slights, for she had not studied the + <a class="pagenum" id="page564" title="564"> </a>world enough to learn and despise its despicable things. Even then, + dear girl! too, she tried to love all the world, that is, all her native + village. And she succeeded, at least far enough to forgive them all, + and thus to feel her own mind at peace and resigned. But there was a + tinge of sadness left on her Grecian face after all; for to the young, + when the out-stretched hand of kindly feeling is coldly put aside, the + grief is as great as though the repulse were deserved.</p> + + <p>And I—I hardly know what I was, when I first saw my cousin. I + was without father or mother; the world seemed wide and rather + cheerless; and there was a settled impression on my mind, that it was + my business to glide along through life, calmly and noiselessly; attach + my affections to no external object; exist without being the cause of + joy, and die without being the cause of tears, to any human being. I + came and took up my abode in the pleasant village where my uncle + resided, and set down to gain some knowledge of that noble science, + civil law. I took up the study, not because I had any intention of engaging + in the active duties of the profession, but for the name’s sake, + and because I loved it for itself. My uncle, he was a kind, good man, + showed himself a father to me, took me into his family, tried to encourage + and rouse me; and for his kindness, though it failed of its end, he + had at the time, and has always had, my sincere though unexpressed + thanks.</p> + + <p>I had hardly become acquainted with my relatives, uncle, aunt, and + their three children, when I entered my office, shut the door, and immersed + myself in books and my own thoughts. That those thoughts + were not of the most joyous nature, I need hardly say. Still, looking + back to that period, from where I stand now, I cannot say they were + misanthropic. If I did not love all my species, it was because I saw + nothing lovely in any body; but I did not hate them. I felt that I was + an insignificant, an unnoticeable drop in the great world; that it was + my misfortune to be so constituted as to be incapable of uniting closely + and mingling with other drops; and that, without offending my neighbors, + it would be my duty and pleasure to keep myself distinct from the + rest, and hidden in some obscure corner. In one word, the prevailing + feeling was, that nobody cared for me, and I cared for nobody.</p> + + <p>And yet, strange as it may appear, I was far from being unhappy. + Sometimes, it is true, my in-turned thoughts became weary, and pined + for human fellowship; and I grew sick at heart, as I contemplated the + future, a vast, dry, waste, desolate desert of parched sand, over which + I must toil and thirst, without one single being to speak a word of kindness, + or give me a drop of water. But these were fits, fits of wildness, + I called them, and seldom lasted long. And when they came over me, + one attempt to link my sympathies with others was always sufficient + to throw me back into a state of mind harder and colder than before. + For it was so fated, that all my overtures, and they were not many, + were met with open repulse or wary suspicion. It is true, suspicion is + a necessary ingredient in human character; but I did not think of this + then, and so it had the same effect as though I had found, indeed I + thought I <em>had</em> found, that coldness and insensibility were the prominent + characteristics of the race.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page565" title="565"> </a>And yet, as I said before, I was not unhappy. If there was no happiness, + there was at least no unhappiness, in sitting down for hours, and + brooding over my own idiosyncrasies. It made me proud, to see and + despise the weakness of others; and it gave me stern joy, to walk about + and feel that there was a kind of armed neutrality between them and + me. By degrees there arose, also, a gloomy pleasure in dwelling on, + and picturing in deeper colors, the failings and baseness of my neighbors. + Humble and weak as I knew myself to be, I exulted in my + strength, because there were some still more weak and humble. Far + back as my recollection ran, there had never been any thing in the + world that seemed to me worthy of very much exertion or toil to obtain; + but now I first learned to despise others for possessing feeble energies, + as well as for directing them to the attainment of little objects. I am + afraid, if left to myself, I should have hardened into a genuine hater; + but I was not left to myself.</p> + + <p>I have mentioned my uncle’s kindness; his whole family were not + less kind. My cousin Jane, especially, saw that I was silent, and fancied + that I was unhappy, and tried, by a thousand little devices and arts, + to lull me into forgetfulness of myself, and entice me into a more + sociable frame of mind. I will not say that I was insensible to her + enticements; I rather liked her, she was so gentle and mild and considerate. + There was an air of truth and simplicity about her; she + would sit herself down so cheerfully to amuse me, and there was such + a sparkle in her blue eyes when, as she said, I condescended to interest + myself in her little affairs, that I began, at length, to love to be with + her. But proud as I was, when I viewed mankind at a distance, I no + sooner came in contact with any one, who was not immeasurably beneath + me, than I felt myself sinking immeasurably beneath him; and + so, like a fool as I was, I fancied that all my cousin’s kindness was the + result of her sense of duty to her relation; or, what was worse, of pity + for his moroseness. This faint suspicion became, in a little while, a + strong certainty; and I confined myself more closely to my books, and + looked into my cousin’s guileless, enthusiastic face, with coldness.</p> + + <p>I had known her now a year, and yet I hardly knew her at all; for + I had seen her scarcely ever, except when it was impossible to avoid it, + and those occasions were not frequent or long enough to enable me to + learn perfectly her mind and character. From every such meeting, I + went away resolved to see her no more in future; which resolution was + sure to be overruled by second and more bitter thoughts. How I lived + during that year, I scarcely know; or how it was that I grew uneasy + away from her, and frequently surprised myself courting her society. + But as time rolled on, so it was. There was a fascination about her, + the magic of which was, that it charmed to sleep my vigilant suspicion. + I did not perceive any change in myself, when night after night I was + with her, talking to her about poetry, beauty, love, and the thousand + themes that interest the unrestrained youthful heart; or that I was different + from what I used to be, when I listened to her, with a gush of + pleasure, as she spoke at once with lips and eyes, and in speaking, disclosed + the unimagined riches of her mind and heart. So gradual was + the change, that I was wholly unaware of it.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page566" title="566"> </a>But of one thing I was aware; the face of nature and of man underwent + a strange and sudden change in appearance. I looked into the + face of my neighbor, and lo, he was my brother! The fire of benevolence + and sympathy warmed every vein, and a new life animated every + nerve within me. I felt no longer that I was alone, but that indissoluble + cords bound me to the whole human family, to every being in whose + nostrils was the breath of life; and that for his good, as well as for my + own, it was my business to labor. New motives of action, (or rather + motives of action, for there were none before,) were set before me; and + I felt light of heart and wing; eager to bound forward and lend the + strength of my arm to the cause of the race. The face of nature too + was altered. Every part that came within the range of my vision, her + seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her sunshine and clouds, + each one was a melody, and all together made harmony. Still, I was + scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year ago; for + at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state of mind. + So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart into the + permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into that + of love and peace!</p> + + <p>It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How + I first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and + abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by + her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would + not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was + ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince + myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning + my passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, ‘This is folly—I will + not!’ I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and + myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed + dreams.</p> + + <p>But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like + that of the Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin’s smiles + and attentions were not all devoted to me. There was another, a young + man of promise and expectations, a year or two my senior, and far + beyond me in the graces and polish of society, who had lately become + intimate in my uncle’s family. Engaged in the same pursuits, and + being much with him, I had rather liked him; in fact I liked him very + much. He had seen, admired, and in less than six months, <em>loved</em> my + Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is keen-eyed. You will not + wonder then that I hated him; not on his own account—alter his feelings + toward her, and I should have felt toward him as before; but on + account of his love—hated him with a deadly hatred.</p> + + <p>It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched + them, when my cousin’s sensitive countenance would brighten at his + bright thoughts, or burst forth into a merry laugh at his brilliant wit + and ready repartee; or how often the iron has entered into my soul when + I have seen her hang on his arm, and listen in breathless attention to + his lightest word, and testify in a thousand ways her pleasure at his + coming, and in his presence. And <em>he</em>, he looked on me with the most + immovable indifference. He did not seem to consider me worthy of his + <a class="pagenum" id="page567" title="567"> </a>attention; even as a rival. He went straight forward, calmly and quietly, + as though I had not existed; and if he ever glanced at my pretensions, + it was perhaps with a smile of confident success. I knew he + loved her; I fancied that she loved him, and I hated them both for it.</p> + + <p>I went into my office one day—if it were not part of the dream I + would not tell it—in a state of partial insanity. I knew, saw, heard, + felt nothing but one unalterable purpose of revenge. There happened + to be a small pistol lying in the back room; I took it up, and carefully + loaded it; loaded it without the tremor of a single muscle, for my heart + was lead. I put it into my pocket, and walked the streets up and down, + an hour or two, or it may have been four hours. I did not take count + of the time. The heavens reeled above me, and the earth reeled beneath. + At last he came. A thrill, the first that day, a thrill of triumph ran + through my whole frame. When we met I stopped and took hold of + the pistol in my pocket, but had not power to draw my hand out again; + the strings of volition seemed broken. He stopped also; looked at me + in some surprise; made a remark that I ‘did not appear to be well,’ and + passed on. I looked after him, sick at heart with revenge deferred, and + cursed my own pusillanimity.</p> + + <p>Well, well, we will let that pass. I had yielded my soul to the Author + of Hatred for a time; but we will let it pass, and strive to forget + it; I have been trying to ever since; I hope I shall succeed better in + future. It is pleasant if we can think that the results of our evil passions + do not extend beyond ourselves; and to me, it is pleasant to think + that I did not break my gentle cousin’s heart, by letting her know that + she had nearly driven me mad.</p> + + <p>It was a month after this. How the intervening time had been + spent, in what thoughts, and hopes, and fears, it would not be profitable + to tell, or to recollect. I was sitting one evening by my cousin’s + side; it was growing late, and we were alone. I had been heated, as + though with wine, and had probably talked incoherently. The conversation + turned on that never-failing theme, love. She delighted to hear me + speak on that subject; she said I spoke eloquently. If eloquence consists + in earnestness, no doubt I did. It began in sportiveness, but before + long became deeply serious and interesting.</p> + + <p>‘And you do not believe, my grave cousin,’ said she, in her own half-jesting, + wholly earnest way, ‘that a woman can love as deeply and long + as the man who loves her?’</p> + + <p>‘Bah!’ said I, bitterly, ‘women sometimes, like men, are revengeful, + proud, or ambitious, but it is on a smaller scale. Every thing about + them, every feeling and impulse is on a small scale. Very good objects + they make for men to love; because, when one <em>will</em> be such a fool, it + doesn’t much matter where he places his affection.’</p> + + <p>The poor girl looked grieved, but responded with a semblance of + gaiety nevertheless: ‘Ah, you think so now, but you will be just such a + fool yourself, one of these days; and then you will find out that it is + necessary for a woman to have a soul; and more than that—that she + has one.’ </p> + + <p>‘Much obliged for your flattering opinion,’ said I. ‘But see here, + <a class="pagenum" id="page568" title="568"> </a>my bonny Jane, did it never enter into your innocent little heart to + think how <em>you</em> would love?’</p> + + <p>‘Oh yes,’ she answered quickly; ‘but that is all guess-work. I + don’t know, because I haven’t yet found a man to my taste.’</p> + + <p>Of course I knew that I could not be to her taste; but a plain man + does not like to be told that he is ugly, though he may be perfectly + conscious of the fact. And so this avowal, which was made with the + most unthinking honesty and simplicity, while it added weight to my + despair, by a very usual consequence, made me desperate.</p> + + <p>‘You are certain,’ I asked, after a pause, ‘that you do not know what + love is by experience?’</p> + + <p>‘Perfectly,’ she answered, half laughing.</p> + + <p>‘And that you mean to know, some time?’</p> + + <p>‘To be sure,’ said she, ‘when the right man and the right time come.’</p> + + <p>‘I do not know,’ said I, beginning slowly and calmly; but before the + sentence was half completed, my voice and thoughts had escaped from + under my control; ‘I do not know who the right man for you may be, + but I—<em>I</em> love you—love you—love you!’</p> + + <p>She looked at me for a few seconds, with a countenance filled with + astonishment, not unmingled with alarm. She would have thought it a + jest; but my manner probably convinced her that I was far from + jesting. She tried to smile, but it was a painful effort, and she found + it much easier to conceal her face in her hands and weep.</p> + + <p>My recollection of the subsequent events of that evening is extremely + dim. There was a confused crowd of flying thoughts; many tears and + much friendship on one side, and much love on the other. She had + received me as I knew she would, and though by the confession there + was a great weight removed from my breast, the anguish was not less + intense. One thing, however, among the hurried occurrences of that + hour, I did not lose sight of, and that was pride. She did not suspect + at the time how much of my heart, not to say existence, was bound up + in her, or how greatly both were affected by her answer.</p> + + <p>The closing scene of the interview is the one which I most love to + remember. We were standing at the door, her hand in mine, a mournful + smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. That bright, gentle face + was pale with sorrow, and pity, and pain, and above all with fear. I + gazed on it a moment, but in that moment the picture was graven + indelibly on my memory. The ‘good night’ was spoken; and that is + the last time I ever saw my cousin Jane.</p> + + <p>The next morning I sat down at an inn by the way-side, several miles + distant from home, and sent back a few lines of farewell:</p> + + <p>‘My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu + of last evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this + morning, for a longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected; + in fact, I knew it would be as it was; and it was only a fatality, + a blind impulse, that drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it + has given you pain, and I beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And + in turn, you may rest assured that I forgive you for all the anguish and + sickness of spirit that I have suffered on your account. There is nothing + to be forgiven; I know that you would not cause unhappiness to + any one, and it has been my own folly and madness. But I promise + <a class="pagenum" id="page569" title="569"> </a>not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise that in future years, + wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my memory, only my + pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your head! I + go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is + probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to + forget our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I + would live in your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do + not think, because long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains + divide us, that your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives + in his heart and can never die!’</p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION.</h2> + <p class="byline">BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.</p> + <div class="poem"> + <h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> Spring is fair, when early flowers</p> + <p class="i2">Unfold them to the golden sun;</p> + <p>When, singing to the gladsome hours,</p> + <p class="i2">Blue streams through vernal meadows run;</p> + <p>When from the woods and from the sky</p> + <p class="i2">The birds their joyous anthems pour;</p> + <p>And Ocean, filled with melody,</p> + <p class="i2">Sends his glad billows to the shore.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath</p> + <p class="i2">Is rapture to the wearied breast,</p> + <p>When vines with roses fondly wreathe,</p> + <p class="i2">Fann’d by soft breezes from the West;</p> + <p>When, opening by the cottage eave,</p> + <p class="i2">The earliest buds invite the bee;</p> + <p>And brooks their icy bondage leave,</p> + <p class="i2">To dance in music toward the sea.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The Spring is gay: but to my heart</p> + <p class="i2">The glorious hues she used to wear,</p> + <p>As sunset clouds in gloom depart,</p> + <p class="i2">Have vanish’d in the empty air:</p> + <p>They move not now my spirit’s wing,</p> + <p class="i2">As in the stainless days of yore:</p> + <p>The happy dreams they used to bring</p> + <p class="i2">Have pass’d—and they will come no more.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Not that those dreams have lost their sway—</p> + <p class="i2">Not that my heart hath lost its chords;</p> + <p>Still with affection tuned, they play,</p> + <p class="i2">And leap at friendship’s kindly words;</p> + <p>But ’tis that to my languid eye</p> + <p class="i2">A <em>newness</em> from life’s scene hath flown,</p> + <p>Which once upon the open sky,</p> + <p class="i2">And o’er the teeming earth, was thrown.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page570" title="570"> </a>V.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Yes! there <span class="small_all_caps">IS</span> <em>something</em>, which no more</p> + <p class="i2">In Nature’s gorgeous round I find;</p> + <p>Something that charm’d in days of yore,</p> + <p class="i2">And filled with Sabbath peace my mind;</p> + <p>Which added lustre to the flower,</p> + <p class="i2">And verdure to the field and tree,</p> + <p>And wings to every sunny hour,</p> + <p class="i2">While roseate health remained with me!</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">VI.</h3> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But Time’s stern wave hath roll’d along,</p> + <p class="i2">And now on Manhood’s waste I stand,</p> + <p>And mourn young Fancy’s faded throng</p> + <p class="i2">Of radiant hopes and visions bland;</p> + <p>Yet, kindling o’er my onward way,</p> + <p class="i2">The light of love divine I see,</p> + <p>And hear a voice which seems to say:</p> + <p class="i2">‘Pilgrim! in Heaven there’s rest for thee!’</p> + </div> + </div> + <p class="sign"><span class="dateline">May, 1832.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">DISGUISED DERIVATIVE WORDS IN ENGLISH.</h2> + + <p class="byline">BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">Derivative</span> words in English, as in other languages, are usually + formed on regular principles. Some few of them, however, especially + those derived from foreign languages, and coming into extensive use, are + so corrupted or disguised, as greatly to obscure the derivation.</p> + + <p>The following are examples:</p> + + <ol> + <li><strong class="special_name">Church</strong> and <strong class="special_name">kirk</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>circ</em> and <em>cyric</em>, Germ. <em>kirche</em>, old + Germ. <em>chirihha</em>, Gr. <span title="kyriakon">ϰυριαϰόν</span>, as if <em>the Lord’s house</em>, derived from <span title="kyrios">ϰύριος</span>, + <em>the Lord</em>, and this from <span title="kyros">ϰῦρος</span>, <em>power</em>, <em>authority</em>;) a Christian temple.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Clown</strong>: (Lat. <em>colônus</em>, from the root <em>col</em>, to cultivate;) a rustic. + Compare Germ. <em>Köln</em> from Lat. <em>Colonia Agrippina</em>; also Lat. <em>patrônus</em> + from <em>pater</em>.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Dropsy</strong>: (Fr. <em>hydropisie</em>, Portug. and Span. <em>hidropesia</em>, Ital. <em>idropisia</em>, + Lat. <em>hydrops</em> and <em>hydropisis</em>, Gr. <span title="hydrôps">ὑδρωψ</span>, derived from <span title="hydôr">ὑδωρ</span>, water;) + a corruption of <em>hydropsy</em>, an unnatural collection of water in the body.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Parchment</strong>: (Fr. <em>parchemin</em>, Portug. <em>pergaminho</em>, Span. <em>pergamino</em>, + Ital. <em>pergamena</em>; also Germ. and Dutch <em>pergament</em>; Lat. <em>pergamena</em>, + scil. <em>charta</em>, Gr. <span title="Pergamênê">Περγαμηνή</span>, scil. <span title="Chartê">Χαρτή</span>, from <em>Pergamus</em>, a city + of Asia Minor;) skin prepared for writing.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Periwig</strong> and <strong class="special_name">peruke</strong>: (Fr. <em>perruque</em>, Span. <em>peluca</em>, Ital. <em>parruca</em>; + also Germ. <em>perrucke</em>, Dutch <em>parruik</em>, Swed. <em>peruk</em>, Dan. <em>perryk</em>, Tr. + <em>percabhaic</em>, Gael. <em>pior-bhuic</em>; from Lat. <em>pilus</em>;) an artificial cap of + hair.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Priest</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>priost</em>, <em>preost</em>, Germ. and Dutch <em>priester</em>, + Iceland <em>prestr</em>, Dan. and Swed. <em>præst</em>; also old Fr. <em>prestre</em>, Fr. <em>prêtre</em>, + Portug. <em>presbytero</em>, Span. <em>presbitero</em>, Ital. <em>prete</em>, Latin <em>presbyter</em>, Gr. + <span title="presbyteros">πρεσβύτερος</span>, comparative of <span title="presbys">πρέσβυς</span>, old;) one who officiates in sacred + offices.</li> + <li><a class="pagenum" id="page571" title="571"> </a><strong class="special_name">Rickets</strong>: (Fr. <em>rachitis</em>, Portug. <em>rachitis</em>, Span. <em>raquitis</em>, Lat. <em>rachitis</em>, + Gr. <span title="rhachitis">ῥαχῖτις</span>, from <span title="rhachis">ῥάχις</span>, the back or spine;) a disease of children.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Sciatica</strong>: (Fr. <em>sciatique</em>, Portug. <em>sciatica</em>, <em>ciatica</em>, Span. <em>ciatica</em>, + Ital. <em>sciatica</em>, Lat. <em>ischias</em>, gen. <em>adis</em>, Gr. <span title="ischias">ἰσχιάς</span>, gen. <span title="ados">άδος</span>, from <span title="ischion">ἰσχίον</span>, + the hip;) the hip-gout.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Such</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>swilc</em>, Meso-Goth. <em>swaleiks</em>, old Germ. <em>solîh</em>, + Germ. <em>solcher</em>; composed of <em>swa</em> or <em>so</em>, the ancient modal case of the + demonstrative pronoun, and the ancient form of Eng. <em>like</em>;) a demonstrative + adjective of quality, denoting <em>of that kind</em> or <em>sort</em>.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Which</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>hulic</em>, <em>hwylc</em>, <em>hwilc</em>, <em>hwelc</em>, Meso-Goth. <em>hweleiks</em>, + or <em>hwileiks</em>, old Germ. <em>huelih</em>, Germ. <em>welcher</em>; composed of <em>hwe</em> + or <em>hwin</em>, the ancient modal case of the interrogative pronoun, and the + ancient form of Eng. <em>like</em>;) properly an interrogative adjective of + quality, denoting <em>of what kind</em> or <em>sort</em>? but in use an interrogative partitive + adjective.</li> + <li><strong class="special_name">Wig</strong>: a mutilation of the word <em>periwig</em>; see <em>periwig</em> above.</li> + </ol> +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">NEW-ENGLAND’S SABBATH BELLS.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,</p> + <p>As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!</p> + <p>From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,</p> + <p>The jewels of New-England’s crown, her glory and her pride.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,</p> + <p>In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break</p> + <p>The holy silence which o’erspreads all nature like a spell,</p> + <p>With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Those Sabbath-bells—they call us not to piles of mossy stone,</p> + <p>Temples of yore, with age now hoar, and ivy overgrown,</p> + <p>Through whose stained windows softly creeps a dim religious light,</p> + <p>Seeming as it were sanctified unto the Christian’s sight.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Nor do they tell of royal courts, in which to worship <span class="special_name">God</span>,</p> + <p>Where nobles gay in bright array bend to their monarch’s nod;</p> + <p>No costly paintings please the eye, nor trappings rich and rare,</p> + <p>To draw the humble Christian’s heart from sacred praise and prayer.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>But to the simple, hallowed fane, we turn our willing feet,</p> + <p>Where, rank unknown, the free alone in humble worship meet;</p> + <p>While ‘Holiness unto the <span class="special_name">Lord</span>’ upon the walls we read,</p> + <p>No other ornament than this, no other record need.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="dateline">New-Haven, May 10, 1844.</span> <span class="author">A.</span></p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page572" title="572"> </a>A PASSAGE</h2> + + <h3 class="subtitle">FROM A LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.</h3> + + <p class="byline">BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">While</span> the veteran Taric was making his wide circuit through the + land, an expedition under Magued the renegado proceeded against the + city of Cordova. The inhabitants of that ancient place had beheld the + great army of Don Roderick spreading like an inundation over the + plain of the Guadalquiver, and had felt confident that it must sweep the + infidel invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when + scattered fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought them tidings + of the entire overthrow of that mighty host, and the disappearance of + the king? In the midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, + arrived at their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of + mind, and leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had survived + the dreadful battle of the Guadalete. The people of Cordova knew the + valiant and steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round him as a last + hope. ‘Roderick is fallen,’ cried they, ‘and we have neither king nor + captain: be unto us as a sovereign; take command of our city, and + protect us in this hour of peril!’</p> + + <p>The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too much + broken by grief to be flattered by the offer of command; but he felt + above everything for the woes of his country, and was ready to assume + any desperate service in her cause. ‘Your city,’ said he, ‘is surrounded + by walls and towers, and may yet check the progress of the + foe. Promise to stand by me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.’ + The inhabitants all promised implicit obedience and devoted + zeal: for what will not the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and + profess in a moment of alarm? The instant, however, that they heard + of the approach of the Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up + their effects and fled to the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo. + Even the monks collected the riches of their convents and churches, + and fled. Pelistes, though he saw himself thus deserted by those who + had the greatest interest in the safety of the city, yet determined not to + abandon its defence. He had still his faithful though scanty band of + cavaliers, and a number of fugitives of the army; in all amounting to + about four hundred men. He stationed guards, therefore, at the gates + and in the towers, and made every preparation for a desperate resistance.</p> + + <p>In the mean time, the army of Moslems and apostate Christians advanced, + under the command of the Greek renegado, Magued, and guided + by the traitor Julian. While they were yet at some distance from the + city, their scouts brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised + on the banks of the Guadalquiver. The trembling hind was an inhabitant + <a class="pagenum" id="page573" title="573"> </a>of Cordova, and revealed to them the state of the place, and the + weakness of its garrison.</p> + + <p>‘And the walls and gates,’ said Magued, ‘are they strong and well + guarded?’</p> + + <p>‘The walls are high, and of wondrous strength,’ replied the shepherd; + ‘and soldiers hold watch at the gates by day and night. But there is + one place where the city may be secretly entered. In a part of the + wall, not far from the bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a + breach at some height from the ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by + the aid of which the wall may easily be scaled.’</p> + + <p>Having received this information, Magued halted with his army, and + sent forward several renegado Christians, partizans of Count Julian, + who entered Cordova as if flying before the enemy. On a dark and + tempestuous night, the Moslems approached to the end of the bridge + which crosses the Guadalquiver, and remained in ambush. Magued + took a small party of chosen men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded + the stream, and groped silently along the wall to the place where stood + the fig tree. The traitors, who had fraudulently entered the city, were + ready on the wall to render assistance. Magued ordered his followers + to make use of the long folds of their turbans instead of cords, and succeeded + without difficulty in clambering into the breach.</p> + + <p>Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate which opened + toward the bridge; the guards, suspecting no assault from within, were + taken by surprise, and easily overpowered; the gate was thrown open, + and the army that had remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and + entered without opposition.</p> + + <p>The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city; but already + a torrent of armed men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes + sallied forth with his cavaliers and such of the soldiery as he could collect, + and endeavored to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain. + The Christians were slowly driven from street to street, and square to + square, disputing every inch of ground; until, finding another body of + the enemy approaching to attack them in the rear, they took refuge in + a convent, and succeeded in throwing to and barring the ponderous doors. + The Moors attempted to force the gates, but were assailed with such + showers of missiles from the windows and battlements that they were + obliged to retire. Pelistes examined the convent, and found it admirably + calculated for defence. It was of great extent, with spacious courts + and cloisters. The gates were massive, and secured with bolts and + bars; the walls were of great thickness; the windows high and grated; + there was a great tank or cistern of water, and the friars, who had fled + from the city, had left behind a good supply of provisions. Here, then, + Pelistes proposed to make a stand, and to endeavor to hold out until + succor should arrive from some other city. His proposition was received + with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not one of whom but was ready to + lay down his life in the service of his commander.</p> + + <p>For three long and anxious months did the good knight Pelistes and + his cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults + of the infidels. The standard of the true faith was constantly displayed + from the loftiest tower, and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as + <a class="pagenum" id="page574" title="574"> </a>signals of distress to the surrounding country. The watchman from + his turret kept a wary look out over the land, hoping in every cloud of + dust to descry the glittering helms of Christian warriors. The country, + however, was forlorn and abandoned, or if perchance a human being + was perceived, it was some Arab horseman, careering the plain of the + Guadalquiver as fearlessly as if it were his native desert.</p> + + <p>By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, and the + cavaliers had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. They suffered + the wasting miseries of famine without a murmur, and always met their + commander with a smile. Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in + their wan and emaciated countenances, and felt more for them than for + himself. He was grieved at heart that such loyalty and valor should + only lead to slavery or death, and resolved to make one desperate + attempt for their deliverance. Assembling them one day in the court + of the convent, he disclosed to them his purpose.</p> + + <p>‘Comrades and brothers in arms,’ said he, ‘it is needless to conceal + danger from brave men. Our case is desperate: our countrymen + either know not or heed not our situation, or have not the means to help + us. There is but one chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your + leader, I claim the right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will + sally forth and make for the city gates at the moment of their being + opened; no one will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be taken for + one of those recreant Christians who have basely mingled with the + enemy. If I succeed in getting out of the city, I will hasten to Toledo + for assistance. In all events I shall be back in less than twenty days. + Keep a vigilant look out toward the nearest mountain. If you behold + five lights blazing upon its summit, be assured I am at hand with succor, + and prepare yourselves to sally forth upon the city as I attack the gates. + Should I fail in obtaining aid, I will return to die with you.’</p> + + <p>When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally undertaken + the enterprise, and they remonstrated against his exposing himself + to such peril; but he was not to be shaken from his purpose. On the + following morning, ere the break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned, + into the court of the convent, and Pelistes appeared in complete + armor. Assembling his cavaliers in tie chapel, he prayed with them + for some time before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, and + standing in the midst of them, ‘God knows, my companions,’ said he, + ‘whether we have any longer a country; if not, better were we in our + graves. Loyal and true have ye been to me, and loyal have ye been + to my son, even to the hour of his death; and grieved am I that I have + no other means of proving my love for you, than by adventuring my + worthless life for your deliverance. All I ask of you before I go, is a + solemn promise to defend yourselves to the last like brave men and + Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your faith, or throw yourselves + on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the traitor Julian.’ + They all pledged their words, and took a solemn oath to the same effect + before the altar.</p> + + <p>Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and gave them his benediction, + and as he did so his heart yearned over them, for he felt towards + them, not merely as a companion in arms and as a commander, but as + <a class="pagenum" id="page575" title="575"> </a>a father; and he took leave of them as if he had been going to his + death. The warriors, on their part, crowded round him in silence, + kissing his hands and the hem of his surcoat, and many of the sternest + shed tears.</p> + + <p>The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when Pelistes + took lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, and, mounting + his steed, issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent. He + paced slowly through the vacant streets, and the tramp of his steed + echoed afar in that silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior, moving + thus singly and tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived + at the gate just at the hour of opening; a foraging party was entering + with cattle and with beasts of burthen, and he passed unheeded + through the throng. As soon as he was out of sight of the soldiers who + guarded the gate, he quickened his pace, and at length, galloping at full + speed, succeeded in gaining the mountains. Here he paused, and + alighted at a solitary farm-house to breathe his panting steed; but had + scarce put foot to ground when he heard the distant sound of pursuit, and + beheld a horseman spurring up the mountain.</p> + + <p>Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the road and + galloped across the rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent + checked his career, and his horse, stumbling upon the margin, rolled + with his rider to the bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall, + and his whole visage was bathed in blood. His horse, too, was + maimed and unable to stand, so that there was no hope of escape. The + enemy drew near, and proved to be no other than Magued, the renegado + general, who had perceived him as he issued forth from the city, and + had followed singly in pursuit. ‘Well met, señor alcayde!’ exclaimed + he, ‘and overtaken in good time. Surrender yourself my prisoner.’</p> + + <p>Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, bracing his + shield, and preparing for defence. Magued, though an apostate, and a + fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing + his adversary dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage, + but alighting, tied his horse to a tree.</p> + + <p>The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for seldom had + two warriors met so well matched or of equal prowess. Their shields + were hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with fragments of their + armor, and stained with their blood. They paused repeatedly to take + breath; regarding each other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes, + however, had been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great + disadvantage. The renegado perceived it, and sought not to slay him, + but to take him alive. Shifting his ground continually, he wearied his + antagonist, who was growing weaker and weaker from the loss of blood. + At length Pelistes seemed to summon up all his remaining strength to + make a signal blow; it was skilfully parried and he fell prostrate upon + the ground. The renegado ran up, and, putting his foot upon his + sword, and the point of his scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask + his life; but Pelistes lay without sense, and as one dead. Magued then + unlaced the helmet of his vanquished enemy and seated himself on a + rock beside him, to recover breath. In this situation the warriors were + <a class="pagenum" id="page576" title="576"> </a>found by certain Moorish cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces + of that stern and bloody combat.</p> + + <p>Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid him upon + one of their horses, and, aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded + slowly to the city. As the convoy passed by the convent, the cavaliers + looked forth and beheld their commander borne along bleeding and a captive. + Furious at the sight, they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed + by a superior force, and driven back to the great portal of the + church. The enemy entered pell mell with them, fighting from aisle + to aisle, from altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters of the convent. + The greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand; + the rest were disabled with wounds and made prisoners. The convent, + which was lately their castle, was now made their prison, and in after-times, + in commemoration of this event, was consecrated by the name of + St. George of the Captives.</p> + + <p>The loyalty and the prowess of the good knight Pelistes had gained + him the reverence even of his enemies. He was for a long time disabled + by his wounds, during which he was kindly treated by the Arab + chieftains, who strove by every courteous means to cheer his sadness + and make him forget that he was a captive. When he was recovered + from his wounds they gave him a magnificent banquet to testify their + admiration of his virtues.</p> + + <p>Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armor, and with a + countenance pale and dejected; for the ills of his country evermore + preyed upon his heart. Among the assembled guests was Count Julian, + who held a high command in the Moslem army, and was arrayed in + garments of mingled Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been + a close and bosom friend of Julian in former times, and had served with + him in the wars in Africa; but when the count advanced to accost him + with his wonted amity, he turned away in silence, and deigned not to + notice him; neither during the whole of the repast did he address to + him ever a word, but treated him as one unknown.</p> + + <p>When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse turned upon + the events of the war; and the Moslem chieftains, in great courtesy, + dwelt upon the merits of many of the Christian cavaliers who had fallen + in battle, and all extolled the valor of those who had recently perished + in the defence of the convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and + checked the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his + devoted cavaliers. At length, lifting up his voice, ‘Happy are the + dead,’ said he, ‘for they rest in peace, and are gone to receive the reward + of their piety and valor! I could mourn over the loss of my companions + in arms, but they have fallen with honor, and are spared the + wretchedness I feel in witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have + seen my only son, the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side; + I have beheld kindred friends and followers falling one by one around + me, and have become so seasoned to those losses that I have ceased to + weep. Yet there is one man over whose loss I will never cease to + grieve. He was the loved companion of my youth, and the steadfast + associate of my graver years. He was one of the most loyal of Christian + knights. As a friend he was loving and sincere; as a warrior his + <a class="pagenum" id="page577" title="577"> </a>achievements were above all praise. What has become of him, alas! I + know not. If fallen in battle, and I knew where his bones were laid, + whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in the waters of the + Gaudalete, I would seek them out and enshrine them as the relics of a + sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his companions in arms, he should + be driven to wander in foreign lands, I would join him in his hapless + exile, and we would mourn together over the desolation of our country!’</p> + + <p>Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the lament of + the good Pelistes, and they said: ‘Who was this peerless friend, in + whose praise thou art so fervent?’</p> + + <p>‘His name,’ replied Pelistes, ‘was Count Julian.’</p> + + <p>The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. ‘Noble cavalier,’ exclaimed + they, ‘has grief disordered thy senses? Behold thy friend, + living and standing before thee, and yet thou dost not know him! This, + this is Count Julian!’</p> + + <p>Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and regarded him + for a time, with a lofty and stern demeanor; and the countenance of + Julian darkened, and was troubled, and his eye sank beneath the regard + of that loyal and honorable cavalier. And Pelistes said, ‘In the name + of God, I charge thee, man unknown! to answer. Dost thou presume + to call thyself Count Julian?’</p> + + <p>The count reddened with anger at these words. ‘Pelistes,’ said he, + ‘what means this mockery? Thou knowest me well; thou knowest + me for Count Julian?’</p> + + <p>‘I know thee for a base imposter!’ cried Pelistes. ‘Count Julian + was a noble Gothic knight; but thou appearest in mongrel Moorish + garb. Count Julian was a Christian, faithful and devout; but I behold + in thee a renegado and an infidel. Count Julian was ever loyal + to his king, and foremost in his country’s cause: were he living, he + would be the first to put shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the + land of her invaders: but thou art a hoary traitor! thy hands are + stained with the royal blood of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy + country and thy God. Therefore, I again repeat, man unknown! if + thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou liest! My friend, alas! is dead; + and thou art some fiend from hell, which has taken possession of his + body to dishonor his memory and render him an abhorrence among men!’ + So saying, Pelistes turned his back upon the traitor, and went forth + from the banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed with confusion, + and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers.</p> + +</div> +<div class="article"> + <h2 class="title">ON SEEING A LADY WEEP OVER A NOSEGAY.</h2> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">Though</span> plucked from off the parent stems,</p> + <p class="i2">The flow’rs forget to die,</p> + <p>When Beauty all their leaves begems</p> + <p class="i2">With tears from her sweet eye.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There is a heart which throb’d to-day</p> + <p class="i2">To see thee weep alone.</p> + <p>And longed to wipe those drops away,</p> + <p class="i2">Or make that grief its own.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="author">Plutarch Shaw: 1844.</span></p> +</div> +<div class="department" id="literary_notices"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page578" title="578"> </a>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Literary Remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clarke</span>. Parts Three and Four. New-York: + <span class="special_name">Burgess, Stringer and Company</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> reception given to our notice of this serial work in our last number, has emboldened + us to refer to the issues which have since appeared, containing a copious variety of matter + which will be new to great numbers of our readers. One of the best evidences of the + <em>naturalness</em> and ease of our author’s writings, is to be found in the ready appreciation of + them by all classes of readers. Whether the vein be a serious one, or the theme turn upon + the humorous or the burlesque, it is not too much, we think, to say that the writer takes + always with him the heart or the fancy of the reader. Without however pausing to characterize + productions which bid fair to become very widely and favorably known, we shall + venture, under favor of the reader, to present a few more extracts, ‘which it is hoped may + please.’ The following illustration of a night-scene at the Kaatskill Mountain-House, on + the evening of the Fourth of July, we can aver to be a faithful Daguerreotype sketch, for + we saw it with the writer:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">Take</span> my arm, and step forth with me from the piazza of the Mountain-House. It is night. A + few stars are peering from a dim azure field of western sky; the high-soaring breeze, the breath of + heaven, makes a stilly music in the neighboring pines; the meek crest of Dian rolls along the blue + depths of ether, tinting with silver lines the half dun, half fleecy clouds; they who are in the parlors + make ‘considerable’ noise; there is an individual at the end of the portico discussing his quadruple + julep, and another devotedly sucking the end of a cane, as if it were full of mother’s milk; he hummeth + also an air from <cite>Il Pirata</cite>, and wonders, in the simplicity of his heart, ‘why the devil that there + steam-boat from Albany doesn’t begin to show its lights down on the Hudson.’ His companion of + the glass, however, is intent on the renewal thereof. Calling to him the chief ‘help’ of the place, he + says: ‘Is that other antifogmatic ready?’</p> + + <p>‘No, Sir.’</p> + + <p>‘Well, now, person, what’s the reason? What was my last observation? Says I to you, says I, + ‘Make me a fourth of them beverages;’ and moreover, I added, ‘Just you keep doing so; be <em>constantly</em> + making them, till the order is countermanded.’ Give us another; go! vanish!—‘disappear + and appear!”</p> + + <p>‘The obsequious servant went; and returning with the desired draught, observed, probably for the + thousandth time: ‘There! that’s what I call the true currency; them’s the <em>ginooyne</em> mint-drops; + <span class="small_all_caps">HA</span>—<em>ha</em>—ha!’—these separate divisions of his laughter coming out of his mouth at intervals of about + half a minute each.</p> + + <p class="prose_break">·····</p> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">There</span> is a bench near the verge of the Platform, where, when you sit at evening, the hollow-sounding + air comes up from the vast vale below, like the restless murmurs of the ocean. Anchor + yourself here for a while, reader, with me. It being the evening of the national anniversary, a few + patriotic individuals are extremely busy in piling up a huge pyramid of dried pine branches, barrels + covered with tar, and kegs of spirits, to a height of some fifteen or twenty feet—perhaps higher. A + bonfire is premeditated. You shall see anon, how the flames will rise. The preparations are completed; + the fire is applied. Hear how it crackles and hisses! Slowly but spitefully it mounts from + limb to limb, and from one combustible to another, until the whole welkin is a-blaze, and shaking as + with thunder! It is a beautiful sight. The gush of unwonted radiance rolls in effulgent surges + adown the vale. How the owl hoots with surprise at the interrupting light! Bird of wisdom, it is + the Fourth! and you may well add your voice to swell the choral honors of the time. How the tall + old pines, withered by the biting scathe of Eld, rise to the view, afar and near; white shafts, bottomed + in darkness, and standing like the serried spears of an innumerable army! The groups around the + beacon are gathered together, but are forced to enlarge the circle of their acquaintance, by the growing + intensity of the increasing blaze. Some of them, being ladies, their white robes waving in the mountain + <a class="pagenum" id="page579" title="579"> </a>breeze, and the light shining full upon them, present, you observe, a beautiful appearance. The + pale pillars of the portico flash fitfully into view, now seen and gone, like columns of mist. The + swarthy African who kindled the fire regards it with perspiring face and grinning ivories; and lo! + the man who hath mastered the quintupled glass of metamorphosed <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">eau-de-vie</em>, standing by the + towering pile of flame, and, reaching his hand on high, he smiteth therewith his sinister pap, with a + most hollow sound; the knell, as it were of his departing reason. In short, he is making an oration!</p> + + <p>‘Listen to those voiceful currents of air, traversing the vast profound below the Platform! What + a mighty circumference do they sweep! Over how many towns, and dwellings, and streams, and incommunicable + woods! Murmurs of the dark, sources and awakeners of sublime imagination, swell + from afar. You have thoughts of eternity and power here, which shall haunt you evermore. But we + must be early stirrers in the morning. Let us to bed.</p> + + <p class="prose_break">·····</p> + + <p>‘You can lie on your pillow at the Kaatskill House, and see the god of day look upon you from + behind the pinnacles of the White Mountains in New Hampshire, hundreds of miles away. Noble + prospect! As the great orb heaves up in ineffable grandeur, he seems rising from beneath you, and + you fancy that you have attained an elevation where may be seen <em>the motion of the world</em>. No intervening + land to limit the view, you seem suspended in mid-air, without one obstacle to check the eye. + The scene is indescribable. The chequered and interminable vale, sprinkled with groves, and lakes, + and towns, and streams; the mountains afar off, swelling tumultuously heavenward, like waves of + the ocean, some incarnadined with radiance, others purpled in shade; all these, to use the language + of an auctioneer’s advertisement, ‘are too tedious to mention, but may be seen on the premises.’ I + know of but one picture which will give the reader an idea of this etherial spot. It was the view + which the angel Michael was polite enough, one summer morning, to point out to Adam, from the + highest hill of Paradise.’</p> + + </blockquote> + + <p>Many and many a young father will recognize, in the following, his own emotions, as he + looks in moments of thoughtfulness upon the little ‘olive-branches’ around him, in whom + he lives over again his own earliest years:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">To</span> those who are disposed to glean philosophy from the mayhap less noticeable objects of this + busy world, there are few sights more lovely than childhood. The little cherub who now sits at my + knee, and tries, with tiny effort, to clutch the quill with which I am playing for you, good reader; + whose capricious taste, varying from ink-stand to paper, and from that to books, and every other + portable thing—all ‘moveables that I could tell you of’—he has in his little person those elements + which constitute both the freshness of our sublunary mortality, and that glorious immortality which + the mortal shall yet put on. Gazing upon his fair young brow, his peach-like cheek, and the depths + of those violet eyes, I feel myself rejuvenated. That which bothered Nicodemus, is no marvel to me. + I feel that I have a new existence; nor can I dispel the illusion. It is harder, indeed, to believe that + he will ever be what I am, than that I am otherwise than he is now. I can not imagine that he will + ever become a pilous adult, with harvests for the razor on that downy chin. Will those golden locks + become the brown auburn? Will that forehead rise as a varied and shade-changing record of pleasure + or care? Will the classic little lips, now colored as by the radiance of a ruby, ever be fitfully + bitten in the glow of literary composition!—and will those sun-bright locks, which hang about his + temples like the soft lining of a summer cloud, become meshes where hurried fingers shall thread + themselves in play? By the mass, I can not tell. But this I know. That which hath been, shall be: + the lot of manhood, if he live, will be upon him; the charm, the obstacle, the triumphant fever; the + glory, the success, the far-reaching thoughts,</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘That make them eagle wings</p> + <p>To pierce the unborn years.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + </blockquote> + + <p>The ‘Ollapodiana’ papers are concluded in the third number, and a portion of the issue + is devoted to the commencement of the ‘Miscellaneous Prose Papers’ of the writer, which + are both numerous and various, ‘A Chapter on Cats’ records an amusing story, replete + with incident, which turns upon the deplorable consequences, in one sad instance at least, + of cat-killing. An illustrative although not satisfactory passage is subjoined:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I am</span> subject, in summer, to restlessness. Thick-coming fancies mar my rest, and my ear is peculiarly + sensitive to the least inappropriate sound. One sultry evening in July, I returned home later + than usual, from an arbitration, wherein I lost a cause on which I had counted certainly to win. I + suspect I bored the arbitrators with too long a plea, and too voluminous quotations of precedents; for + when I finished, two were asleep, and most of the others yawning. They decided against my client, + and I came home mad with chagrin, and crept into bed, longing for speedy oblivion in the arms of + Sleep. </p> + + <p>‘But that calm sister of Death would not be won to my embrace. I lay tossing for a long time in + ‘restless ecstacy,’ until vexed and overwearied nature at last sunk to repose. I could not have slumbered + over ten minutes, before I was awakened by the most outrageous caterwauling that ever stung + the human ear. I arose in a fury, and looked out of the window. All was still. The cause for outcry + appeared to have ceased. Now and then there was a low gutteral wail, between a suppressed + grunt and a squeal; but it was so faint that nothing could have lived ‘twixt that and silence. After a + listening probation of a few minutes, I slunk back into my sheets.</p> + + <p>‘I had scarcely dozed a quarter of an hour, when the obnoxious vociferations arose again. They + were fierce, ill-natured, and shrill. I arose again, vexed beyond endurance. All was quiet in a moment. + I am not given to profanity; I deem it foolish and wicked; but on this occasion, after stretching + <a class="pagenum" id="page580" title="580"> </a>my body like a sheeted ghost, half out of the window, and gazing into the shadows of the garden + to discover the object of my annoyance, I exclaimed in a loud and spiteful voice, which expressed my + concentrated hate:</p> + + <p>——‘<em>D—n that cat!</em>’</p> + + <p>‘‘Young gentleman,’ said a passing guardian of the night, from the street, ‘you had better pop your + head in and stop your noise. If you don’t, you will rue it; now mind-I-tell-ye.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Look here, old Charley,’ said I, in return, ‘don’t be impertinent. It is your business to preserve + the peace, and to obviate every evil that looks disgracious in the city’s eye. You guard the slumbers + of her citizens; and if you expect a dollar from me at Christmas, for the poetry in your next annual + address, you will perform what I now request, and what it is your solemn and bounded duty to do. + Spring your rattle; comprehend that vagrom cat, and take her to the watch-house, I will appear as + plaintiff against the quadruped, before the mayor, in the morning. Her character is bad—her habits + are scandalous.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Oh, pshaw!’ said the watchman, and went clattering up the street, singing ‘N’hav p-a-st dwelve + o’glock, and a glowdee morn.’</p> + + <p>‘I reverted to my pillow, and fell into a train of conjectures touching the grimalkin. Possibly it + might be the darling old friend of Miss Dillon. Then I thought of others—then I slept.</p> + + <p>‘I cannot declare to a second how long my fitful slumber lasted, before I was startled from my bed + by a yell, which proceeded apparently from a cat in my room. I had just been dreaming of a great + mouser, with ears like a jackass, and claws, armed with long ‘pickers and stingers,’ sitting on my + bosom, and sucking away my breath. I sprang at once into the middle of the room. I searched every + where—nothing was in the apartment. Then there rushed toward the zenith one universal cat-shriek, + which went echoing off on the night-wind like the reverberation of a sharp thunder-peal.</p> + + <p>‘My blood was now <em>up</em> for vengeance. One hungry and fiery wish to destroy that diabolical caterwauler, + took possession of my soul. At that instant the clock struck one. It was the death knell of + the feline vocalist. I looked out of the window, and in the light of a stray lot of moonshine, streaming + through the tall chimneys to the south-east, I saw Miss Dillon’s romantic favorite, alternately cooing + and fighting with a large mouser of the neighborhood, that I had seen for several afternoons previous, + walking leisurely along the garden wall, as if absorbed in deep meditation, and forming some libertine + resolve. In fine, they each seemed saturate with the spirit of the Gnome king, Umbriel, in the + drama, when he</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i12">——‘stalked abroad</p> + <p>Urging the wolf to tear the buffalo.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘The death of one of these noisy belligerents being determined on, I looked round my room for the + tools of retribution. Not a moveable thing, however, could I discover, save a new pitcher, which had + been sent home that very day, and to which my name and address were appended on a bit of card. I + clutched it with desperate fury, and pouring into my bowl the water contained in it, I poised it in my + hand for the deadly heave. I had been a member of a quoit club in the country, and the principles of + a clever throw were familiar to me. I resolved to make the vessel describe what is called in philosophy + a <em>parabolic curve</em>, so that while it knocked out the brains of one combatant, it should effectually + admonish the survivor of the iniquity of his doings. I approached the window—balanced the pitcher—and + then drave it home. Its reception was acknowledged by a loud, choking squall—a faint + yell of agony, and then a respectful silence. Satisfied that my pitcher had been broken at the fountain + of life, and that the silent tabby would not soon tune her pipes again, I retired to bed, and slept + with the serenity and comfort of one who is conscious of having performed a virtuous action.</p> + + <p>‘In the morning, the cat was found ‘keeled up’ on a bed of pinks, with her head broken in, and her + ancient and venerable whiskers dabbled in blood. The shattered pitcher lay by her side. The vessel + had done its worst—so had my victim.’</p> + + </blockquote> + + <p>The story proper, upon the consecutive incidents of which we shall not touch, closes with + the annexed whimsical anecdote:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">An</span> anonymous wag not long ago, placed an advertisement in each of our city journals, signed by + an eminent house on the Delaware wharf, and stating that <span class="special_emphasis">Five Hundred Cats</span> were wanted immediately + by the firm. The said firm in the meantime knew nothing of the matter.</p> + + <p>‘On visiting their counting-house the next morning, the partners found the streets literally blocked + up with enterprising cat-sellers. Huge negroes were there, each with ten or fifteen sage, grave tabbies + tied together with a string. Old market-women had brought thither whole families of the feline genus, + from the superannuated <em>Tom</em>, to the blind kitten. The air resounded with the squallings of the quadrupedal + multitude. New venders, with their noisy property, were seen thronging to the place from + every avenue.</p> + + <p>‘‘What’ll you <em>guv</em> me for this ’ere lot?’ said a tall shad-woman, pressing up toward the counting-room. + ‘The newspapers says you allows liberal prices. I axes a dollar a piece for the old ’uns, and + five levys for the kittens.’</p> + + <p>‘‘You have been fooled,’ said the chief partner, who appeared with a look of dismay at the door, + and was obliged to speak as loud amid the din as a sea-captain in a storm. ‘I want no cats. I have + no use for them. I could not eat them. I couldn’t sell them. I never advertised for them.’</p> + + <p>‘A decided mendicant, a member of the great family of loafers, with a red, <em>bulgy</em> nose, and bloated + cheeks, who had three cats tied to a string in his hand, now mounted a cotton bale, and producing a + newspaper, spelt the advertisement through as audibly as he could under the circumstances, demanding + of the assembly as he closed, ‘if that there advertysement wasn’t a true bill?’ An unanimous + ‘Sarting!’ echoed through the crowd. Encouraged by the electric response, the loafer proceeded to + make a short speech. He touched upon the rights of trade, the liberty of the press, the importance + of fair dealing, and the benefits of printing; and concluded by advising his hearers to go the death + for their rights, and ‘not to stand no humbug.’ Such was the effect of his eloquence, that the firm + <a class="pagenum" id="page581" title="581"> </a>against which he wielded his oratorical thunder found it necessary to compromise matters by treating + the entire concourse to a hogshead of wine. ‘The company separated at an early hour,’ consoled for + the loss of their bargains and the emptiness of their pockets by the lightsomeness of their heads and + hearts.’</p> + + </blockquote> + + <p>Let us hope that our readers will find, in the entire work from which we quote, ample + reasons for the favor which it is receiving at the hands of the public.</p> + + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Mental Hygiene: or an Examination of the Intellect and Passions</span>. Designed to illustrate + their Influence on Health and the Duration of Life. By <span class="special_name">William Sweetser, M. D.</span> In + one volume. pp. 270. New-York: <span class="special_name">J. and H. G. Langley</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">This</span> is a work destined, as we can easily foresee, to produce great good. Its leading + design, as its title implies, and as is stated indeed by the author in his preface, is to elucidate + the influence of intellect and passion upon the health and endurance of the human + organization; an influence which has been but imperfectly understood and appreciated in + its character and importance, by mankind at large. The volume under notice is divided + into two parts. Under the first are considered the intellectual operations in respect to their + influence on the general functions of the body; under the second is embraced a view of + the moral feelings or passions, in the relation which they also sustain to our physical nature. + Of these a concise definition is offered, with such classification as is necessary to the leading + design of the work. Their effects upon the different functions of the animal economy are + next noticed; and a description is given of a few of the most important passions belonging + to each of the three great classes; namely, pleasurable, painful and mixed, into which they + are separated; their physical phenomena and individual influence on the well-being of + the human mechanism being closely examined. A forcible exposition is also given of the + evil consequences resulting from an ill-regulated imagination (acting through the instrumentality + of the passions, morbidly excited by its licentious operation,) to the firmness of + the nervous system, and the integrity of the general health. The volume is not addressed + to any particular class of readers, and being free from technical expressions, is rendered + plain and comprehensive to all. We commend this volume of Mr. <span class="special_name">Sweetser</span> cordially + to our readers, firmly impressed with the belief that the principles which it advances may + be rendered subservient both to the physical and moral welfare of our countrymen.</p> + + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Life in the New World, by Seatsfield</span>: translated from the German by <span class="special_name">Gustavus C. Hebbe</span>, + LL. D., and <span class="special_name">James Mackay</span>, M.A. New-York: <span class="special_name">J. Winchester</span>, ‘New World’ Press.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> fourth number of this very remarkable work has been published; and we have had + a fair opportunity of testing the merits of the mysterious author. The circumstances must + now be generally known, under which these works appear before the public. It appears + that <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, a German scholar, who is publishing a continuation of <span class="special_name">Schlegel’s</span> History + of Literature, has in his delineations of character given almost unbounded praise to an + American named <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. Among the various works attributed to him are ‘Life in + the New World,’ ‘Sea, Sketches,’ ‘South and North,’ ‘Virey,’ the ‘Legitimate,’ and others, + which are to be issued in rapid succession from the press of <span class="special_name">Winchester</span>, ‘the indefatigable,’ + as he may well be called; for the rapidity with which he sends out to the world + the literary novelties of the day is a theme of public marvel. The German, in which these + volumes are written, is said by competent judges, to be very pure and powerful: and indeed + we may rest assured that if the case were otherwise, a critic of such high reputation + as <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> would never have spoken of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> in such enthusiastic terms. The publisher, + we understand, obtained several of the works from the library of Columbia College, + through the politeness of Professor <span class="special_name">Tellkampt</span>.</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page582" title="582"> </a>The opinion, which some have expressed, that <span class="special_name">Seatsfield’s</span> books are made up of + stolen selections from different American writers, is unfounded. We cannot recognize in + his style or thought familiar passages; and beside, there does not appear to be any rational + inducement for this species of plagiarism. It is evident that the writings are indeed what + they appear to be, the genuine productions of an able man. The descriptions of natural + scenery are very graphic. ‘The first trip on the Red River,’ and the description of the + trappers, is one of the most animated sketches we have ever read. Our mountains, rivers, + cataracts, ocean-lakes, and forests, are described with the most remarkable spirit and + truth.’ The translation, we are informed by the best judges, is extremely faithful.</p> + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Poetry and History of Wyoming</span>. By <span class="special_name">William L. Stone</span>, Esq. Second edition, enlarged. + New-York: <span class="special_name">Mark H. Newman</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">This</span> indefatigable laborer in the mine of Indian history continues to throw off from time + to time works upon that subject, which bear the marks of great industry, patient research, + and extensive information, and which have deservedly given him a high literary reputation + as an historical writer. What has yet appeared we believe is only the beginning of a series + of works relating to Indian annals, which are to be completed as soon as the author’s + health, and the duties of an arduous profession, will allow. From a late honor conferred + upon him by one of the remnants of the Six Nations, in electing him one of their chiefs, by + the name of <span class="special_name">Sa-go-sen-o-ta</span>, it seems plain that they highly approve of his efforts to preserve + their history; and it may be considered as endorsing the accuracy of his investigations. + In this light, the honor conferred, though coming from those whom civilization is crushing + beneath its superior intelligence and power, is valuable and important. The present book + takes the poetical share of its title from the fact that the author has prefixed <span class="special_name">Campbell’s</span> + celebrated poem, preceded by a sketch of his life, furnished by <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>. + ‘Gertrude of Wyoming,’ though beautiful, and seeming to be a narrative of real incidents in + a poetical dress, is nevertheless a fiction, albeit founded upon an actual tragedy, whose + horrors can hardly be exaggerated by any pen. It has been the design of our author to record + the real history of the section of country which was stained by this tragedy, and which + for this reason, has a melancholy interest thrown over its natural charms.</p> + + <p>The history of Wyoming does not commence, as many suppose, with the war of the + American revolution. Long before, the conflict of human passions in the breast of savage + and civilized man had discolored its soil with blood. During this antecedent period, its + aboriginal annals are replete with incidents, which were greatly multiplied after the civil + wars which disturbed the repose of that secluded valley had begun to be waged between + the rival claimants to the territory from Connecticut and Pennsylvania, and which for + twelve or thirteen years prior to the revolutionary war present a series of the most stirring + events. The author, therefore, in order to render the history complete, has taken it up before + the first known visit of the white men; of whom, among the earliest, were the Moravian + missionaries. To the honor of these men, be it recorded, that in this instance, as in + others, they plunged into the depths of the forest, and labored among the savages with a + christian zeal and enterprize which have never been surpassed. The scenes of the revolution, + embracing not only the great massacre in July, 1778, with its frightful horrors, but also + a number of other bloody forays of the Indians upon the white men, are moreover faithfully + described. But after all, perhaps the most interesting portion of the volume is formed of + the narrative of the services and sufferings of individuals and families. These latter records + are full of those wild and romantic incidents which are peculiar to border warfare; + where the steady courage and determined bravery of the European appears in deadly conflict + with the wiliness, cunning, and sleepless vengeance of the savage. To say that all + this is narrated by the author in the spirit of accurate history, would be far below the meed + <a class="pagenum" id="page583" title="583"> </a>of praise that is due. He has executed this part of the book in a style of animated and + lively description, and with that flowing and finished diction, which can only be attained + when the mind of a writer is perfectly familiar with the events, and when, by the force of + imagination, he becomes himself as it were an actor instead of a spectator of the scenes + which he narrates.</p> + + <p>Additional interest is given to this spot, from the fact, which probably is not generally + known, except to the professed historian, that the distinguished patriot <span class="special_name">Timothy Pickering</span> + took up his abode in the valley of Wyoming, attracted no doubt by its unrivalled + beauties, to which he was first introduced during a military campaign, but which he afterward + contemplated, on the return of peace, with an eye capable of being charmed by the + picturesque in nature. The concluding chapter of the book is devoted mainly to a spirited + account of the abduction of that gentleman, and his confinement in the wilderness + by a gang of ruffians, who, after trying in vain to bend his soldier-like mind to a compliance + with their violent designs, gave him an ungracious release, and allowed him to return + to his family. Among the papers in the appendix, now first introduced to the public, will + be found a deed of purchase, made from the Indians ninety years ago, by the Connecticut + Land Company, containing the names of some six hundred of the most wealthy and distinguished + people of that State. It is important as a means of showing the valuation of land + at that period, and a proof that it was acquired by honest purchase. This edition has + been enlarged to the amount of more than one hundred pages of letter-press; an addition + found necessary by the discovery of increased materials by the author since the publication + of the first edition.</p> + + <p>In concluding this brief notice of a work written with decided talent, and designed to fill + an important niche in the early history of this country, we are bound to thank the author, and + to express the hope that he will be able to finish the historical design which he has sketched, + pertaining to that interesting race, of whom it may be truly said, that ‘the hour of their destiny + has already struck.’ This volume shows us, that in our own country may be found + topics for literary effort, worthy of employing the gifted pens of America, without going + abroad in quest of subjects, in the discussion of which we shall long be surpassed by + foreigners, on account of their superior facilities and larger sources of information. As a book + entirely American, we commend it to the reading public, confident that it will be received + with favor wherever it is read, and be considered a valuable addition to the historical + department of every gentleman’s library.</p> + + + + <p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">A New Spirit of the Age</span>. By <span class="special_name">R. H. Horne</span>. In one volume. New-York: <span class="special_name">Harper and + Brothers</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="first_word">The</span> Mr. <span class="special_name">Horne</span> who stands sponsor for this ‘child of many fathers’ must not be confounded + with Mr. <span class="special_name">Hartwell Horne</span>, who in a literary point of view is quite another + person. The author of the volume before us, however, with the aid of sundry fellow <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">littérateurs</em> + ‘of the secondary formation,’ as <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span> phrases it, has collected together quite + a variety of materials, the whole being intended to form a sort of sequel to <span class="special_name">Hazlitt’s</span> + ‘Spirit of the Age,’ a brilliant work, to which the present bears slight resemblance. We + quite agree with a contemporary, that it manifests little or no independence of judgment or + originality of thought. ‘It is the result of the labor of many hands, and those not the most + skilful or experienced. It consequently wants that homogenousness of style which one + would expect in a professed imitation of so excellent a model. The highest degree of merit + that can be accorded to it is that of a collection of magazine articles of second rate merit. + It is likely to prove popular with the generality of readers who do not trouble themselves to + dip beneath the surface of things; but we must caution those who would form a just estimate + of the characters and merits of the distinguished writers whose works are analyzed + in it, that its premises are not always correct nor its deductions sound.’</p> + +</div> + +<div class="department" id="editors_table"> + <h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page584" title="584"> </a>EDITOR’S TABLE.</h2> + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <p><span class="ed_table_title">A day with the great Seatsfield.</span>—The Boston Daily Advertiser recently divulged, + with a most curious air of bewilderment, the name of a new, and as it seems hitherto + unheard-of, ornament to American literature—the illustrious <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. Illustrious, however, + only upon the other side of the water; for it appears that we Yankee cotton-raisers + have somewhat else to do than to busy our brains about any letters except letters of credit, + or any fame that is not reverberated from abroad. No one, of course, at all conversant + with modern German literature, not even the slightest skimmer of their late periodical publications, + or the most occasional peruser of the <cite lang="de" xml:lang="de">Allgemeine Zeitung</cite> or <cite lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dresden Bluthundstaglich</cite>, + can have failed to notice with patriotic pride the gradual but gigantic progress of + this new <span class="special_name">Voltaire</span> to the highest pinnacle of popular renown. But, sooth to say, our + western world is so overrun with pretenders; there are so many young gentlemen annually + spawned by Yale and Cambridge, who affect to read German without being able to construe + the advertisement of a Leipsic bookseller; so numerous are the blue-spectacled + nymphs who quote <span class="special_name">Jean Paul</span> betwixt their blanc-mange and oysters, without comprehending + even the outermost rind of its in-meaning; so utterly ignorant are our so-called + literati of any subject beyond the scope of a newspaper, that the name of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> + sounded as strangely in American ears as if he had lately arrived from Herschel or Georgium + Sidus in a balloon. It is true that some two or three of our eminent scholars, a few + travellers, men of taste, who had wandered by the Rhine, were acquainted with his reputation, + and in some degree with his productions. <span class="special_name">Emerson</span> doubtless must have been + aware of his renown; Professor <span class="special_name">Felton</span> of course had read him as often as he has <span class="special_name">Homer</span>; + <span class="special_name">Jones</span>, <span class="special_name">Wilkins</span>, and <span class="special_name">F. Smith</span> had studied him with delight. The ‘Dial,’ a journal of + much repute, had even spoken openly, we are told, of his success in Europe. Mr. <span class="special_name">W. E. + Channing</span>, the poet, had evidently but perhaps unconsciously imitated his peculiar viscidity + of style, and (if we may use such an expression.) extreme flakiness of thought. But in + spite of these few exceptions to the general indifference, let it stand recorded, that when + the name of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> returned to his own shore, it was an alien and unmeaning word. + His own country, so deeply indebted to his powerful pen, absolutely knew him not. The + literati stared, and the Boston Advertiser was struck aghast with wonder. What a comment + upon the state of letters in America! ‘Literary Emporium,’ forsooth! ‘Western + Athens!’ Medici of Manhattan! how grossly we Yankees do misapply titles! It was the + very ‘Literary Emporium’ itself that was most astounded at the newly-discovered mine. + <span class="special_name">Seatsfield’s</span> name had overspread civilized Europe; his productions had been dramatized + at Munich and Bucharest; they had been translated into Russian and Turkish; the + Maltese mariner had learned to solace himself with his ‘Twilight Helmsman’s Hymn,’ + and the merchants of Syra and Beyrout adorned their mansions with his bust; yet Boston, + New-York, and Philadelphia had never heard his name! In the lack of more minute information + with regard to this remarkable man, perhaps the following page or two from a + <a class="pagenum" id="page585" title="585"> </a>traveller’s journal may prove acceptable to the public. The absolutely total obscurity of + the subject in America, may also, it is hoped, serve as an apology for the openness of detail + and apparent breach of etiquette in regard to private intercourse.</p> + + <p class="post_break_small">‘<span class="first_word">It</span> has been my fortune to spend a day in company with the man who of all men has + done the most to illustrate our manners and character; yet who, strange to say, is less + known than ‘Professor’ <span class="special_name">Ingraham</span>. As it was then my fortune to speak <em>with</em> him; I now + consider it my duty to speak <em>of</em> him, and to do what little I am able, to extend his name + among his compatriots.</p> + + <p>‘In the spring of the year previous to this, or to be exact, in April, 1843, I found myself + at Berlin. My friend, Mr. <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>, of London, had given me a letter to <span class="special_name">Theodore + Mundt</span>, and I had learned soon after my arrival that this distinguished man was in town. + I had consequently looked over my letters, after dinner, and had selected the one addressed + to <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, and laid it under a little plaster bust of <span class="special_name">Schiller</span> that stood just over the stove, + in the room where I dined. In the evening I walked into the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ermschlagg Buchzimmer</em>.<a href="#footnote_2" id="fnm2" title="A new public library and reading-room in Berlin." class="fnmarker">2</a> + Several students were making annotations from huge volumes, and many grave, pale gentlemen + were turning over the reviews and periodicals of the day. Among these I recognized + an Englishman whom I had fallen in with at Cologne but parted with at Heidelberg. + He had been in Berlin three days before me, and I was truly glad to meet with an acquaintance + even of so recent a date, to whom I could apply for information or advice as to the + best way of seeing the lions. While I was whispering to him, a grim-visaged old Teuton + looked up at us with a stern frown, and my friend observed, ‘We must retire into the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sprechensaale</em>, + or conversation-room.’ As soon as we had entered this adjoining apartment, to + the evident satisfaction of the aforesaid grim Teuton, I observed a tall, thin man, of angular + and wiry aspect, see-sawing his body in front of the stove, toward which he had turned + his back, as he stood in apparently deep cogitation. ‘You don’t know who that is,’ quoth + my friend; ‘there is <em>one</em> of the lions, to begin with. I found out his name this morning: + that is <span class="special_name">Theodore Mundt</span>.’ Struck as I was with the stranger’s aspect, which appeared + to me altogether American, I stared at him till he suddenly raised his dark eyes, and fixed + them on mine. To disembarrass myself from my seeming rudeness as politely as possible, + I bowed to his gaze, and said inquiringly: ‘I have the honor to address Mr. <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>?’</p> + + <p>‘‘You have the <em>luck</em>,’ he said, ‘but the honor is <em>his</em>.’</p> + + <p>‘‘Honors are even, then,’ said I, as brusquely as I dared; and of all animals a traveller + is the most impudent. ‘I have in my pocket,’ I continued, ‘a letter for you from my friend + <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>.’ At the name of <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span> he raised his hands in surprise, then rubbed them + with delight, and began to eulogise his friend.</p> + + <p>‘All this while I was fumbling in my pocket for my letter, when suddenly it flashed over + me that I had put it under the bust in the tavern. I grew confused for a moment, and then + as Mynheer <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> held out his hand for the letter, I burst into a laugh, and confessed + that I had left my letter at home. <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> looked very serious, and quoted from Othello, + ‘That is a fault;’ and then from Macbeth, ‘To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow.’ + I thought there was a little affectation in this; perhaps it was merely complimentary; but + the immediate result of our imperfect acquaintance was, that I made bold to introduce my + friend to <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, who invited us both to his rooms to supper. On our way thither, as we + passed the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Brunswik Gasthaus</em>, where I lodged, I stepped in to procure my letter, and + <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> appeared rejoiced to hear directly from his ‘very <em>fine</em> friend’ <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>, as he + queerly styled him.</p> + + <p>‘I should feel that I was venturing on forbidden ground were I to reveal more of what + passed between us that evening. There was some drawing of corks and some puffing of + Hamburg-made Cheroots, which <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> declared to be genuine Oriental; there was a ham + of Westphalia, and a bit of La Gruyere. But with all this we have nothing to do. I fear + that I have already made my preface too long. Enough be it then to say, that <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> + <a class="pagenum" id="page586" title="586"> </a>first revealed to me on this occasion (I am ashamed to own it) the name and talents of our + countryman <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. How enthusiastic he was I will not describe; but his enthusiasm + could only be equalled by his surprise that I was not familiar with his writings.</p> + + <p>‘On the next day <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> gave me a letter to <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>, directed to him at Bâsle, in + Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not find him at Bâsle, however, + and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my letter. On my return from Italy, I happened + to learn that <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> was at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty + leagues from my purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so + distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I spent at Graffenburg, + but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly German (I wish I could say American) + admiration of my countryman. Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene + of Doctor <span class="special_name">Priessnitz’s</span> wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single day, I + did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water treatment; neither did <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>, + for I noticed that he mixed two table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water. + <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> is a man of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good + form, though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to the + pictures of <span class="special_name">Numa Pompilius</span>; the benign smile of each is the same. His chin is round and + full, although partially concealed by a slight beard; his nose, which is of a truly German + outline, is marked by the ‘dilated nostril of genius;’ and his whole aspect is that of a + thorough man of the world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a + page or so from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am convinced + however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his pointed manner of enunciation. + His English was faultless, and he spoke as well as if he had never been out of + America. Very few Americans indeed, and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste + a dialect.</p> + + + <h3 class="subtitle">EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL.</h3> + + + <p style="text-align:right;"><span class="dateline">Graffenburg, July 4, 1844.</span></p> + + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I was</span> very fortunate, they tell me, to find <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> in so companionable a mood. + He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly conversible. The glorious return of our + national anniversary had a visible effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening, + but he was weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room + Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy of the day. + ‘You have much to be thankful for, Sir,’ he observed; ‘the day is perfectly American. + Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon Broadway and the Battery. The sound of + India-crackers and the pleasant smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the + awakening Manhattanese.’</p> + + <p>‘Boston, too, my native city,’ I observed, ‘is also alive to the holiday influences. Boston + Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the fragrant commerce of the booths + is just commencing on the Mall.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘Yes, Sir; but Boston and Philadelphia both fail in developing the true + character-stamp-work (<em lang="de" xml:lang="de">character-stampfen-werk</em>) of the day. To see the Fourth of July in + its glory, one should visit New-York. To my senses, which are uncommonly acute, there + is a peculiar smell about the Fourth of July in New-York, which differs in toto from that + of any other holiday.’</p> + + <p>‘In Boston we also have the perfume of lobsters and egg-pop blended with that of orange-peel + and pine-apple——’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘That, Sir, is but a feeble rationale of the New-York savor. I have + often, in a jocose mood, amused myself with analyzing this odor. I have resolved it into + the following elements: lobsters, gunpowder, trampled-grass, wheel-grease, and cigars. + It is mainly to these ingredients, grafted upon the other ordinary city smells, that I attribute + the Fourth of July smell.’</p> + + <p>‘There is one that you have failed to detect; namely, a faint whiff of barn-yards, owing + I presume to the strong prevalence of farmers and other rustics from the surrounding country.’ + <a class="pagenum" id="page587" title="587"> </a><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> smiled at this, and acknowledged, in a laughing way, an occasional intimation + of manure. ‘Graffenburg,’ I observed, ‘is remarkably free from all strong odors; + it is a very clean village.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘That, Sir, is owing to the water: depend upon it, wherever water prevails + neatness will ensue. Temperance and cleanliness go hand in hand. The ancients + were a filthy race, and they were great wine-bibbers. What a condition of personal and + mental nastiness is divulged by <span class="special_name">Horace</span> in his ‘Iter ad Brundusium;’ yet <span class="special_name">Horace</span> was a + choice specimen of a Roman gentleman.’ </p> + + <p>‘Have you had any poets among you here? or is the hydropathic system too repugnant + to their art?’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘Our countryman, <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>, was here not long since. I sat at table + with him frequently; but never introduced myself to him.’</p> + + <p>‘Do you think highly of his powers?’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘As a prolific generator of novel life-images, no; but as a vivid delineator + of the inner-thought principle, as an artistical displayer of the higher subjective mood, he + is of the very first class. I honor <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>.’</p> + + <p>‘He is perhaps our smoothest versifier, next to <span class="special_name">Halleck</span>.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘Nay, he is the only one among us who can combine extreme polish and + the utmost facility of flow with deep-seated reflection.’ <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> then quoted, with a + sublime energy, from the celebrated ‘Psalm of Life:’</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘‘<span class="first_word">Not</span> enjoyment and not sorrow</p> + <p class="i2">Is our destined end or way,</p> + <p>But to act, that each to-morrow</p> + <p class="i2">Find us farther than to-day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘In the world’s broad field of battle,</p> + <p class="i2">In the bivouac of life,</p> + <p>Be not like dumb driven cattle,</p> + <p class="i2">Be a hero in the strife.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant,</p> + <p class="i2">Let the dead Past, bury its dead;</p> + <p>Act, act in the glorious Present,</p> + <p class="i2">Heart within and <span class="special_name">God</span> o’er head.’’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘You give the poet a great advantage,’ I said, ‘in quoting his very finest production, and + picking out the choicest stanzas. Beside, his theme here is one of so general a nature, and + so familiar to philosophy, that it would be hard for any one to moralize upon it in verse + without accidentally hitting upon some sublimity. The commonest intellect has lofty and + awful thoughts whenever it gives way to serious meditation upon our mortality.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘That is partly true; but <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> is not only great upon that + ground. His realm is very extensive. No man has the power (had he only the will) of + depicting the simplicity of every-day life and objects with more grace or comprehensiveness. + There are some touches in his ‘Village Blacksmith’ inexpressibly beautiful, and + worthy of <span class="special_name">Burns’</span> ‘Cotter’s Saturday Night:’</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">His</span> hair is crisp and black and long,</p> + <p class="i2">His face is like the tan;</p> + <p>His brow is wet with honest sweat,</p> + <p class="i2">He earns whate’er he can,’ etc.</p> + </div> + </div> + <p>And then again:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘He goes on Sunday to the Church,</p> + <p class="i2">And sits among the boys;</p> + <p>He hears the parson pray and preach,</p> + <p class="i2">He hears his daughter’s voice</p> + <p>Singing in the gallery,</p> + <p class="i2">And it makes his heart rejoice.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> repeated these verses with much emotion; and I observed that a tear stood + upon his lids. I therefore turned the conversation upon hydropathy, and introduced a quotation + from <span class="special_name">Pindar</span>: <span title="ariston men hydôr">αρὶστον μὲν ὕδωρ</span>, <em>etc.</em></p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page588" title="588"> </a><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘<span class="special_name">Pindar</span>, Sir, has expressed a great truth; but I think that <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span> + has expressed it better. In his exquisite ‘Ode on the Opening of the Marlborough Temperance-House’ + how beautifully he says, after speaking in regard to the virtues of cold water:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Oh! had <span class="special_name">Eve’s</span> hair</p> + <p class="i2">Been dressed in gin,</p> + <p>Would she have been</p> + <p class="i2">Reflected fair?’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘And then, after describing the beauty of Eden, with its rills and pellucid brooks bubbling + through the fresh meads, he goes on:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Are not pure springs</p> + <p class="i2">And chrystal wells</p> + <p>The very things</p> + <p class="i2">For our Hotels?’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘That, Sir, is excellent, and the somewhat homely imagery only enhances in my mind the + truth of the sentiment. <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>, Sir, is a very great man.’</p> + + <p>‘As great as <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>?’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘No, Sir, perhaps not; there is a considerable difference of calibre between + them. I should say now that <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> was a first-rate artist with a second-rate + imagination, and that <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span> was only a second-rate artist with a first-rate fancy. + There is no mistake in <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>.’</p> + + <p>I smiled at <span class="special_name">Seatsfield’s</span> affectation of Americanisms, as if out of compliment to myself, + or in honor of the day; and I rejoined: ‘There may be no mistake in <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>, but there + is one or two in <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘Grammatical or prosodiacal?’</p> + + <p>‘Neither; but in the beginning of his ‘Psalm of Life,’ he says:</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Tell me not in mournful numbers</p> + <p class="i2">Life is but an empty dream;</p> + <p>For the soul is dead that slumbers,</p> + <p class="i2">And things are not what they seem.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘Here he evidently meant things <em>are</em> what they seem; for in the next stanza he goes on to + say:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Life is real, life is earnest,</p> + <p class="i2">And the grave is not its goal;</p> + <p>‘Dust thou art, to dust returnest,’</p> + <p class="i2">Was not written of the soul.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Consequently, if life <em>is</em> real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of mortality, things <em>must + be</em> what they seem, and the soul <em>cannot</em> be dead that slumbers. And if the soul <em>is</em> dead + that slumbers, and things are <em>not</em> really what they seem to be, life <em>is</em> indeed an empty + dream.’ <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> looked puzzled at this.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be trimmed + to the exact dialect of business-men. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> reveals important truths; he utters + what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance: he tells us that ‘Art is long and + Time is fleeting;’ now some arts are not long, and time often drags heavily. It will not + do to be too precise in poetry.’</p> + + <p>‘But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, ‘<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ars longa, vita brevis</em>?’ + and does not that come pretty near to <span class="special_name">Longfellow’s</span> idea?’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: ‘Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out words. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>, + or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at the same conclusion, even had + the ancient author never written it.’</p> + + <p class="post_break_small">‘We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of the break + in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the <span class="special_name">Seatsfieldiana</span> I reserve for + another number, provided the public are not already glutted.’</p> + + </div> + + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page589" title="589"> </a><span class="ed_table_title">Magazine Writing</span>.—We know not how we can better evince our appreciation of the + kind and flattering comments of a Southern correspondent, who will at once recognize our + allusion, than by citing the somewhat kindred remarks of an old and favorite contributor, + now passed away from earth. It was a pleasing matter, he said, to sit down with the proper + afflatus stirring within him, to write an article for a Magazine. ‘If the work has a + general prevalence; if its fame is rife on good men’s tongues, the inspiration is the stronger. + One says to himself, how many friends of mine will overlook these very lucubrations, perceive + my initials, and recognize my name? How many pleasing associations will thus be + awakened, and peradventure commendatory remarks expressed, concerning my powers? + What a <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">quid pro quo</em> for wakeful nights, emendations of phrases, the choosing of words, + and toilsome revision! The other day,’ he continues, ‘while reading the proof-sheet of my + article in the last <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, I fell into a train of reflection upon the large amount + of care and labor which must be entailed upon the publisher and editor of an original Magazine. + Some one has observed, that when we listen to an exquisite opera, or any elaborate + and intricate piece of music, we think not how vast were the pains and attention bestowed + upon every note and cadence; what efforts for perfection in a solo, what panting for a warble, + what travail for a trill! Taken separately, and at rehearsals, in disjointed fragments + of sound, how different are they from that volume of sweet concords which is produced + when they are all breathed forth in order, to the accompaniment of flutes and recorders, in + one full gush of melody! This is just like a Magazine. How many minds does it engage! + Cherished thoughts and cherished feelings, polished or sublimated, there find utterance, and + demand that honor and deference to which they are entitled. In his beautiful Introduction + to the Harleian Miscellany, <span class="special_name">Johnson</span> sets forth the necessity and benefit of similar + writings, with reasons as conclusive as the language in which they are expressed is + chaste and strong. In a country like ours, where the vast population move by common + impulse; think promptly, are enlightened with ease, and turn to the best account that + knowledge which is received with the greatest facility; are inspired with sacred and patriotic + feelings from the bar, the senate, the pulpit, and the press; it is important and just + that the readiest methods and means of instructive moral amusement should be the most + esteemed and the best supported. I confess I never look into a Magazine, that I do not + liken it to a large and pure reservoir of refreshing waters; derived from many streams, + and prankt around its borders with the flowers and garniture of poesy; possessing qualities + agreeable to every taste—the grave, the solid, the scientific, the light, the gay. It is a + map of the higher moods of life. It conveys a sustenance with the relish of pleasure. All + who favor it with their productions have different tastes and faculties of mind. Each one + endeavors to do the best with his theme. He ornaments it in diction, or tasks his fancy, + or explores the secrets of science, or illustrates the events and scenes of his country: he + excites broad-mouthed laughter, by salutary jest and pun; he expatiates in pathetic sentences, + or murmurs in the mellow cadence of song; or arouses interest by the embellishments + wherewith history is refined, and which shed a light over the dim annals of the past, + making them to smile,</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>——‘even as the radiant glow,</p> + <p>Kindling rich woods, whereon the etherial bow</p> + <p>Sleeps lovingly awhile.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>‘Now what I thought beside, while looking over my proof, was this: that a ‘circulating + medium,’ through which so many minds communicated their thoughts, produced and + clothed with befitting language in solitary labor; smoothed, strengthened, or harmonized by + revision, and rendered impressive by those helps and researches of which every <em>readable</em> + writer must avail himself; such a medium, I say, merits the esteem and respect of all. It + deserves not to be taken up for judgment, at a momentary glance, by the undiscerning + eye of careless inquiry. It should be read impartially, and spoken of, in all worthy points, + with praise; in faulty ones, with tenderness. Our literature, I take it, is not yet a sufficiently + <a class="pagenum" id="page590" title="590"> </a>flowery pursuit, to enable any of its votaries to sow its walks with brambles. By + its influence, <em>the country</em> is to be mentally illustrated; the clanking shackles of transatlantic + humbug are to be thrown off; and the establishment of wholesome feelings, and reliance + upon our own intellectual resources, firmly effected. I love to see the general press engaged + now and then in cheering onward the laborers in the more unfrequented and toilsome + avenues of our literary vineyard. It sends a <span class="special_name">God</span>-speed to the bosoms of those whose travails + are more for their country than themselves; and who are content, in anonymous + pride, to believe, that it heralds that bright day of mental refinement which will ere long, + among the freest and noblest confederacy of nations on earth, irradiate the utmost borders + of that holy circumference,</p> + + <p class="centered_line">‘Our Native Land!’</p> + + </div> + + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <p><span class="ed_table_title">A thrust with a two-edged Weapon</span>.—We rather incline to the opinion that the + ‘complainant below’ is infringing the law which forbids the use of concealed weapons; + that are not the less to be guarded against, certainly, when as in the present case they cut + both ways. But our readers shall judge: <span class="special_name">Dear Editor</span>: The country, strange as it may + appear, has peculiar and permanent inhabitants; neither dressing in skins, nor wearing + their own feathers, but habited after the glimpses of fashion which reach them through + their trees. As we have never yet met with a man who was so fortunate as to have no relations, + we take it for granted that all city-zens, yourself among the rest, have country-cousins. + Think of the countless multitudes that turn their longing eyes in the direction of + a metropolis like this, yearning for a visit, and sending off by frequent <em>Opportunities</em>, never + by mail, those remarkable epistolary compounds of hopes and wants which no other race of + beings can compose in perfection: ‘Hope <span class="special_name">John</span> is well, and <span class="special_name">Betsey</span> will come and see us + next summer; and want’—<span class="special_name">Lawson</span> and <span class="special_name">Stewart</span>! what do they <em>not</em> want? Every + thing; from twenty yards of silk down to a penny’s-worth of tape. The letters run somewhat + in this guise, though less poetically:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">Cousin John</span>, please to send down to-morrow,</p> + <p class="i4">At eight, by the Scarborough mail,</p> + <p>‘Claudine, or the Victim of Sorrow,’</p> + <p class="i4">Don Juan, two mops and a pail;</p> + <p>Six ounces of Bohea from <span class="special_name">Twining’s</span>,</p> + <p class="i4">A peg-top, a Parmesan cheese,</p> + <p>Some rose-colored sarcenet, for linings,</p> + <p class="i4">A stew-pan, and <span class="special_name">Stevenson’s</span> Glees;</p> + <p>A song ending ‘Hey-noni-noni,’</p> + <p class="i4">A chair with a cover of chintz,</p> + <p>A mummy dug up by <span class="special_name">Belzoni</span>,</p> + <p class="i4">A skein of white worsted from <span class="special_name">Flint’s</span>.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Half the things that are sent for, they might buy at their own doors. Again and again we + have known them put in commission and procure from an oppressed relative the identical + productions of a manufactory within a mile of them. A singular virtue seems to abide in + all that comes from the sunny side of Broadway.</p> + + <p>‘You perhaps may not know what an <span class="special_emphasis">Opportunity</span> is. In love affairs you have undoubtedly + experienced that it is every thing; but in rural affairs it is more. It is the common-carrier + of a village. So soon as an inhabitant has expressed his intention of going to town, + he becomes an Opportunity, and like a Chinese, liable to pains and penalties for leaving + his native place. From every quarter pour in letters, bundles, and packages, which are to + be carried with care and delivered with despatch. No thanks for his trouble, if they should + reach their destination, and a general liability for the uncertain value of their contents if + they should chance to be lost. So that an Opportunity’s advent in town ought to be announced + in this way: ‘Arrived, <span class="special_name">Hiram Doolittle</span>, from Connecticut, with m’dze to + <a class="pagenum" id="page591" title="591"> </a><span class="special_name">Legion and Company</span>.’ The Opportunity not only transports, but acts as General Agent. + Commissions are given him for a return freight. Hats, coats, dresses, are much wanted, + which he is expected to select with taste, and to purchase cheap. Even the labyrinth of + houses does not protect him from the Argus eyes of his consignees. They seek him out and + insist upon his turning himself into a United States’ mail and a <span class="special_name">Harnden’s</span> express. It is + not a week since we heard a consignee’s friend’s friend request an Opportunity to carry + home a loaf of sugar to his country correspondent.</p> + + <p>‘Perhaps, Friend <span class="special_name">Knick.</span>, we are wounding your feelings all this time, tender by reason + of many cousins and commissions; but we can assure you that we have an infinite respect + for all relationship, and are rather blessed than bored by the requisitions of our own rural + branches. We trust, however, that your rustic kith and kin do not come upon your house + in the spring, in shoals like the shad. Unhappy editor, if it be so; for until the day predicted + by <span class="special_name">Alphonse Karr</span>, when connexions shall be cooked and <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">côtelettes d’oncle à la Béchamel</em> + and <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">têtes de cousin en tortue</em> shall smoke lovingly upon the table, there is nothing for + you but to submit to your Fates, or to give up your house-keeping. But with country cozens, + those provincials who are not bone of your bone, and who nevertheless at every visit to + town call upon you with an eager look and covetous smile, as if to say, ‘Ask us to dinner, + we once invited you to tea,’ there is but one method to pursue; the cut—the firm, unwavering, + direct cut. Do not pretend not to see them, or to look fixedly in another direction, + but give them the vacant, absent stare, as if you saw around them, and through them, and + the image before you excited neither attention nor recollection. There are no terms to be + kept with them. Their Shibboleth is not yours.</p> + + <p>‘In the ‘Absentee,’ a London fashionable lady, Mrs. <span class="special_name">Dazeville</span>, goes to Ireland, and is + hospitably received by Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span>, stays a month at her country-house, and is as + intimate with Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> and her niece Miss <span class="special_name">Nugent</span>, as possible; and yet when + Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> comes to London, never takes the least notice of her. At length, meeting + at the house of a common friend, Mrs. <span class="special_name">Dazeville</span> cannot avoid recognizing her, but + does it in the least civil manner possible: ‘Ah, Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span>! Did not know you + were in England! How long shall you stay in town? Hope before you leave England + you will give us a day.’ Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> is so astonished at this ingratitude, that she + remains silent; but Miss <span class="special_name">Nugent</span> answers quite coolly, and with a smile: ‘A day? certainly, + to you who gave us a month.’ Miss <span class="special_name">Edgeworth</span> evidently considers this a capital + story; and we have no doubt that many stupid people who have read it consider it an + excellent hit; but we can assure them that they know nothing of the woods and fields. It + is a great favor to make people in the country a visit. It relieves them from the tiresome + monotony of their rose-bushes and chickens; and by the active exertions in planning + breakfasts and dinners, and making the one ride through the valley last for three afternoons, + infuses if possible a certain degree of mental activity into their lives, which must + be far from disagreeable to them. A cit too is in a certain degree a lion. The oldest town-jokes + are as new in the country as last year’s ribbons; and the neighbors gather together + to view with delight a face that they have not seen every Sunday for the last fifty-two + weeks, and are only too happy to engage the Novelty at a ‘Tea.’ But when they come + to town, what can you do with them? Who the devil wants to see them? Your friends + care little enough for you, still less for your agricultural acquaintances. You cannot bring + yourself to go to <span class="special_name">Peale’s</span> Museum, or to see the talking-machine; and tickets at the opera + are dear, unless you stand up. As we said before, you must cut them, or</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘If you are a little man,</p> + <p>Not big enough for that,’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>you must try to have them arrested as soon as they arrive, as disturbers of domestic peace, + and confined in the Tombs during the whole of their intended stay. If the Legislature sat in + New-York instead of in a <em>country city</em>, they would pass some law similar to the South Carolina + free-black law, confining all rural visitors, or at least making those liable to an indictment + for false pretences, who claim acquaintance with the ‘people of the whirlpool.’</p> + + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page592" title="592"> </a>‘If it were only for once, one might ask all his <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rats des champs</em> to meet one another at a Tea. + This might be amusing, if the jest did not grow painful by repetition. There is no reciprocity + in your dealings with such invitees. You will probably never again reach their Siberian + settlement, whereas they come to town three times a year! It is not fair. It is a + base cheat. How can they be so ungenerous and illiberal as to accuse you of neglect and + ingratitude for not cultivating them when in the city? They might as well abuse you for + not having a green-house! This doctrine of ours is so clearly reasonable, that all people + of any breeding admit its truth, and act accordingly. You may stay a week at a country-seat, + and need make no acknowledgments of any kind to the owner thereof in his town-house; + whereas a dinner in the city is a debt of honor, which must be paid. This is a + well settled law. Not that your obligation is by any means cancelled. It is not dead, but + dormant. Next summer you will feel deep gratitude for the kindness you received during + the last; but no such indebtedness is payable in urbanity. <span class="special_name">George Selwyn</span> met in St. + James-street, London, a man whom he had known very well in Bath, and passed steadily by + him without a look of recognition. His acquaintance followed him, and said: ‘Sir, you + knew me very well in Bath.’ ‘Well, Sir,’ replied <span class="special_name">Selwyn</span>, ‘in Bath I may possibly know + you again.’ Farewell.</p> + + </div> + + <div class="ed_table_item"> + + <p><span class="ed_table_title">Another ‘pellet’ from Julian.</span>—Not a word is necessary by way of introduction + to the ensuing passages from an epistle lately received from our esteemed friend and correspondent + <span class="special_name">Julian</span>. Happy husband of a happy wife and happier mother! Happy father! + may his joy never be less: ‘We are in the country! When you write this way, say ‘To + the care of —— ——, Esq.’, for we are designedly three miles from post-offices and newsboys. + I have given warning that if any of the latter come within my grounds with his + French things, I will souse him in the river, and hold him there till he shall be thoroughly + chilled into a dislike of these parts. You will readily imagine why we are here. The + excitements and distractions of city life for the last few months were too much for us, and + there are some things that can only be enjoyed apart from the world. Here, we subside + gradually and gracefully from that high and tense delirium from which I at least made + my aërials, always coming back, however, to young <span class="special_name">Julian</span>; who, by the way, is another + occasion for country life, as I have great faith in first impressions, and I wish his to be + bright and beautiful. Heaven preserve him from all darker colors; from the doubts, the + glooms, the moral mistiness of your city atmosphere! Let no fog come between him and + the bright sky, till he has well discovered that there is a heaven beyond, where there is + neither cloud nor shadow, and up to which not one grain of all this dust and filth of the + earth’s whirling shall ever reach. It is quite enough that we are in sight and hearing of + your great Babels; the jarring of their daily strife and the smoke of their torments. A + lively and dashing river rolls between us, going off at a hand-gallop among rocky islands, + over which we see their spires pointing up like electric-rods to avert the wrath that might + otherwise descend upon them; and mingling with the dash of waters, we hear now and + then their petty alarms, their steamers and fire-bells, and the dozen other occasions upon + which they see fit to make a great noise in the world; but the travelled sound has a courtliness + that is rather pleasant than otherwise; and as a key-note to our mocking-birds, it is + quite worthy of the sweet south that brings it up. Whenever there is any sudden ebullition + that cannot be pared down to the common air, we are made aware of it by a cannonading + that is doubtless very considerable down there, but for any thing so ambitiously meant, it + sounds here very miserable; a wretched attempt at notoriety, of which the most noticeable + is the smoke of their powder. And so with all their sky-flourishing and rocketing, which + we look at as at a falling star; pretty, no doubt, but not in our way. Every morning a railroad + train starts out, and approaching within a mile, disappears among the hills with a slight + buzzing and squibbing, like the fly on the window; and then after it has gone, as we suppose, + <a class="pagenum" id="page593" title="593"> </a>there is another squib, very smart and snappish, and we hear nothing more of it till + the train comes down, frets a little again as it passes by, and goes on to discharge its contents + in the great city. To all these things we say, ‘Pass on!’ the world is various, and + must be amused; but for us, we respectfully withdraw. We have had enough of the intense; + we now welcome the trifling, appropriating however as much of the serious as we + care to admit in our still life. When the Sabbath comes round, there are seven bells that + reach us, each with its separate voice; and these, with falling waters, and the morning + incense going up from the hill-sides, are as much of ‘mass’ as we care to have in our + worship. But we have a ready ear for all sweet sounds, and need no glasses to appreciate + the beautiful. Sunrise and sunset; the grouping of clouds; the blue haze that now and + then lies on the landscape, all one with my cigar-smoke; and the storms and lightnings of + the young summer, so spitefully beautiful; all these, with whatever of glory there may be + in the still watches of the night, find their place in our picture-gallery; but we leave them + as <span class="special_name">God</span> made them, and add no tint to their coloring.</p> + + <p>‘You are aware that the sun rises as per almanac. This is common; and so common, + so much an every-day affair, that he gets very little credit therefor; and yet, that he will + rise with great exactness, aside from all human calculation, and go on traversing the sky + with a wonderful regularity that nothing can stop, is a very pleasant fact touching the prospect + of to-morrow; and so also, that every thing in nature will be wrought with marvellous + beauty and harmonies of sound; and oh! most satisfactory of all, there will still be + an air that properly inhaled fills the <em>heart</em> as well as the lungs. It is from a calm consideration + of this fact, that we have done with the <em>eagerness</em> of pleasure. No daily counting of + hours to see that all have been properly brimmed; no grasping at a dozen things at once; + no draining of the very dregs, lest that may be the last bottle, and we die to-morrow. But + thankful as we are for to-morrow, and especially grateful for to-day, we don’t care for + noon-marks. We have kept no count lately, and for aught we know, Time may have + stopped, but probably not. He is doubtless somewhere about, but we take no particular + notice. Our watches have run down, and we care not to wind them again. The hours, + if there are any, are all golden, and we have no occasion to note the passage one to the + other; or if we start them, just to see the motion, they run on diamonds of the purest water; + but mostly, whether it be morn, or mid-day, or the starry night, Sabbath or week-day, it is + all one—all beautiful. Does it rain? It is quite proper. The earth needs it, no doubt, + and it will look the more grateful therefor. Does it shine? Why then the birds will sing, + and if they will come a little nearer, we will teach them that charming air from the last + opera. Does a new star come out in heaven, or an old one disappear? The one will be + an added glory, and the other not much missed; but they will little concern our astronomy. + Expect no more rhapsodies, my friend, unless it be upon the wonderful ease with which + every thing can be done without them. That we find all things pleasant, is the extent of + our poetry. It is pleasant to wake; it is pleasant to sleep; it is pleasant to wake and sleep + again; pleasant to watch the opening lid, and pleasant the smile that follows it; pleasant + are kind words and tones, the touch of hands, and the touch of lips; the breath of flowers + and those that love them; pleasant are the thousand infinitesimals, like the motes of the + sun-beam, not less bright because of their minuteness; and pleasant the thought that sufficient + as this heaven may be, there is another one above. And doubtless it is pleasant to + breathe as usual, and feel the heart send round its currents with a touch of joy; but oh, + pleasanter than all, to have no sigh or throb, to remind you that that breath must one day + stop, and that warm blood turn cold. Oh! in the ‘time’ that is set apart ‘for all things,’ + may heaven look kindly on and count these trifling hours!</p> + + <p>‘Shall we ever leave this charming retreat? Certainly not, while these things last; but + it is not impossible that we may return with the cold weather. Meanwhile, I have made a + chalk-mark about the grounds, and as yet nothing with a bite or sting has passed over it. + Mrs. <span class="special_name">Julian</span>, as she now insists upon being called, has become highly contemplative; and + if I did not know that she was never so happy before, I should think her sometimes a little + <a class="pagenum" id="page594" title="594"> </a>sad; she is so quiet, so demure, and so eternally bewitched with that boy! Why Sir, she + will sit for half a day over the fellow, amusing herself and him with I know not what + varieties and wonders of invention; with lullabies and ditties and homœopathies of language; + and if he condescend to sleep for a few moments, how divinely still must every + thing be! What infinite care is there in pinning the screen; what fortifications are built + round about him; and what a world of protection in every movement! And then, when + all is complete, she must still sit there, with that strange upward look which she has acquired + lately, seeming to reach quite beyond the stars. She is a strange woman! Yesterday, + having dined rather late, I happened to forget myself for a few moments on the lounge; + and on waking, I found her kneeling before me, and looking up in my face with an expression + that to me is peculiarly embarrassing; not the quick, joyous look, followed as quickly + by the touch of lips; not that, but something quite indescribable. Perhaps I am not as + considerate as I ought to be on such occasions, for doubtless she knows what she would be + at, but I confess I do not. Indeed, she is constantly bringing out new points and flourishes, + which to me are all vowels of the Hebrew; no doubt very sweet and musical, and certainly + very necessary to the sense of the reading, but they are past all finding out. When + she dazzles me with these brilliants, I sometimes reply in the Tartar, and so we are quits.</p> + + <p>‘Young <span class="special_name">Julian</span> developes slowly. He has smiled once or twice, but in a manner so + precocious, that it would be alarming, if he were at all delicate. Fortunately he is not. + His utterance as yet is quite unintelligible, though no doubt he has his meaning. To Mrs. + <span class="special_name">Julian</span> it is all poetry. ‘<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Poeta nascitur</em>’ may be quite true, but if he rhymes, which is + quite possible to her ear, I am constrained to think that it is entirely accidental. I hope, + at least, that he is not so viciously gifted. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Have</span> I told you that she refuses a nurse, + and that too pretty sharply? Well, that is not all; I can hardly touch the boy myself. + She is so afraid I shall crush it! My raptures, she says, are not becoming; she even says + that I ‘frighten the child!’ But she is the strangest of women! Last night, happening to + wake some time in the small hours, I heard a slight noise in the room, and emerging from + a dream, in which I remembered to have heard a good deal of crying and hushing, I listened + intently for some moments, but couldn’t for my life guess what it could be. There + was nothing moving in the room, and the sound appeared to arise from some slow and uniform + movement, so that it couldn’t be the wind on the shutters; and if the mocking-birds + had been sufficiently awake to swing, as they sometimes do, they would certainly have + dropped a word or two, for they are great talkers. Now I often hear bells, fire-arms, and + exclamations, and very often hear my name called, and questions asked, to which I reply + in due form, all which I <em>know</em> at the time to be imaginary; but this sound, though it seemed + to be familiar, I couldn’t make out. I was so drowsy, however, that I had half a mind + to consider it a dream; but then what if any thing should happen? I should be responsible. + Rising, therefore, very carefully, not to disturb Mrs. J., I discovered by the shaded light + on the table that she was quite sound asleep; but what was wonderful, her right arm, outside + the bed, was moving up and down with the regularity of a pendulum! What the + deuce was all that? Well, Sir, I bent over breathlessly, and found she was pulling at a + string! And what, O <span class="special_name">Editor</span>! who ought to know every thing, what do you think she + was pulling? Why, Sir, she was pulling at young <span class="special_name">Julian’s</span> cradle. She was rocking the + baby in her sleep! Oh!’</p> + + + + <p class="post_break_small"><span class="first_word">Apropos</span> of ‘the baby’: an agreeable correspondent, from whom we shall be happy to hear + ‘frequently if not oftener,’ intimates to us that our friend <span class="special_name">Julian</span>, when the ‘lactiferous + animalcule’ whose advent into this breathing world he lately described in such glowing + terms, shall have reached a more mature babyhood, may find occasion to ‘change the paternal + note;’ and he cites for us the following passage, from an essay by a sometime contributor + to the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, ‘in justification of his fears:’</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">In</span> my bachelor visitations to my married friends, I have often chuckled over the bashfulness, + contending with love, which distinguishes the <span class="small_all_caps">YOUNG FATHER</span>. In the pride of his heart, perhaps, + <a class="pagenum" id="page595" title="595"> </a>when his little man has first given evidence of that degree of mental exertion called ‘taking notice,’ he + clasps the crowing baby in his arms; he rests its lily feet upon his knees; he endures with philosophic + patience all the ‘gouging,’ and pulling, and kicking, with which the young hero may testify his + triumph; and while the young mother stands by, her eyes beaming with mingled love and pride, he + becomes warmer in his romps; makes faces, as the nerveless fingers of the little one seek, with more + earnestness, his eyes, or pull with a greater effort at his lips; and amid screams of laughter, he chases + the flying hours, until at length a ‘pale cast of thought’ flits over the baby’s face, like a cloud in a + summer sky. This is the signal for immediate seriousness. The father grows grave—then frightened. + He raises him gently from his lap, and with a single exclamation of ‘Take him mother!’ consigns + the precious charge to her arms, and darting a hasty glance at his ‘pants’ he walks in silence + from the room. Nor do we bachelors always escape with impunity. Anxious to win a smile from + some fond mother, more than one of us may have dared to approach, with a kiss, the hallowed lips of + her darling. But mark the quick wing of vengeance! Darting from its lurking place in the mouth, + out flies the little doubled fist, and slams a well-beslabbered biscuit into the face of the intruder. He + recoils, with his ‘reeking honors fresh upon him,’ and the little squab coos in triumph at his failure.’</p> + </blockquote> + </div> + + <div class="ed_table_item"> + <p><span class="ed_table_title">National Academy of Design.</span>—The growing interest felt in relation to the Fine Arts + in this country, and the influence which the <span class="special_name">National Academy of Design</span> has had in producing + that interest, make it imperative upon us to notice the pictures which are annually + sent to this exhibition. In passing through the Academy with this object in view, we have + been at some loss to know where to begin. Finding however by chance at the end of + the catalogue an alphabetical arrangement of the exhibitors’ names, we have adopted this + as the best method of laying the merits of the several pictures before our readers. We + therefore begin with:</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">V. G. Audubon, A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Audubon</span> exhibits four pictures this season: of these, No. 133, + ‘Grove of Palm-trees’ in the Island of Cuba, we prefer. This picture appears to be a + faithful representation of the scene, and is handled with a free and firm pencil. The trees + are perhaps a little too literally represented, to be agreeable to the eye, consisting as they + do of so many equally straight and unpicturesque lines. No. 237, ‘Moon-light Squall + coming up,’ is a pleasing representation of one of Nature’s poetical moments. The light is + clear and silvery, and the water transparent and truthful. The whole scene is interesting, + and there is but little to find fault with; although perhaps parts would admit of more + warmth of color.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. D. Blondell</span> has six pictures, the majority portraits. No. 80, ‘Portrait of a Lady,’ + half-length, is a pleasing picture; warm in color and carefully painted, and gives evidence + of rising talent. The head is perhaps slightly deficient in careful drawing; but few artists + are competent to paint a lady’s portrait; and this gentleman should not feel discouraged, + though his work be found slightly deficient in that grace which is so difficult of attainment.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Boddington</span>, (London,) exhibits three landscapes, all in a style peculiarly belonging to + the English school. They possess great charms; facility of execution, and delicacy of + handling.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Bonfield.</span>—No. 168 is perhaps the best of his productions. If it were not for the pinky + hue of the sky, this would indeed be a charming picture.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">F. Bayle.</span>—No. 25; ‘Picture-Dealer.’ A deep-toned, carefully-painted picture, and + evincing much promise in so young an artist. We are glad to perceive that it is purchased + by the American Art-Union.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">G. L. Brown.</span>—No. 400; ‘View of the Tiber.’ Too much of an imitation of old pictures. + In seeking this quality, the artist has lost sight of the truth and freshness of nature.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Chapman, N. A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Chapman</span> presents nine pictures this season, and all in his usual + brilliant style. No. 116, ‘Peasant Girl of Albano,’ is exceedingly rich in color, and forcible + in effect: a few cool tints about the head-dress would give perhaps still greater value to + the warm tones. No. 189, ‘Hebrew Women,’ is this artist’s gem of the year. Well composed, + pleasing in color, and carefully finished, it expresses the occurrence with fidelity + and truth. No. 204, ‘Boy in Indian Costume,’ is an attractive picture; but No. 213, ‘On + the Fence,’ is more to our liking. The story is well told; the city beau is carefully and + <a class="pagenum" id="page596" title="596"> </a>truly represented; and the dogs are admirable. No. 263, portrait of Doctor <span class="special_name">Anderson</span>, + the father of wood-engraving in this country, is capital. No. 266, ‘Lazy Fisherman,’ is + Laziness personified. No. 341, ‘Sketch from Nature,’ in water-colors, is an exemplification + of this gentleman’s versatility of talent.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. G. Clonney, A.</span>, has two pictures in the exhibition, Nos. 7 and 160. No. 7, ‘The + New-Year’s Call,’ is decidedly the best. The negro is well painted. Mr. <span class="special_name">Clonney’s</span> works + generally evince great observation of nature in this class of subjects.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">T. Cole, N. A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Cole</span> exhibits but one picture, and that comparatively a small one. + It possesses however many of the admirable characteristics of his works, particularly his + early ones. It would be difficult to find a middle-ground and distance surpassing those of + this picture.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">T. Crawford</span>, (Rome.)—Mr. <span class="special_name">Crawford</span> gives us two full-length statues, in which the + charm of the <em>marble</em> is strongly apparent. Mr. <span class="special_name">Crawford</span>, we grieve to say, is evidently + too impatient in the finish of his works to produce that correctness which is essential to a + high effort of art.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. F. Cropsey.</span>—No. 68, ‘View in Orange County,’ is a careful representation of nature, + and has the appearance to our eyes of having been painted on the spot; a practice very + rarely to be found in young artists. A continuance in this course will place this artist in a + prominent position as a landscape-painter. The sky is faulty in color, being too purple to + meet our views of nature; and there is a lack of delicacy in the more receding portions + of the work. But the fore-ground is carefully painted, and full of truth.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Cummings, N. A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Cummings</span> has but one picture. It possesses however the careful + finish, gentlemanly character, and general truthfulness, so characteristic of this fine artist.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">T. Cummings, Jr.</span>, a young artist. No. 149, ‘The Ball,’ is his best work. In thus + attempting a subject of great difficulty of execution, he evinces promise of future ability. + The picture has many pleasing points, marked however with some errors, which time and + practice, let us hope, will correct.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">C. Curtis.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Curtis</span> has two pictures in the exhibition, and both of merit. No. 196 + is among the best heads in the collection.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. W. Dodge, A.</span>—‘Miniature Portraits.’ Those of <span class="special_name">Henry Clay</span> and Gen. <span class="special_name">Jackson</span> + are the most prominent. The likenesses are good, and the pictures carefully finished; a + merit in works of this character frequently unattended to. There is, however, a want of + dignity sometimes to be found in Mr. <span class="special_name">Dodge’s</span> portraits, which we could wish to see remedied: + it would give an elevation to his paintings which they at present lack.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Paul P. Duggan.</span>—‘John the Baptist’ is a model in plaster, which displays greater + knowledge of anatomy than we are in the habit of finding in the works of even older + artists. In this respect it possesses great merit. We understand it is his first effort in + modelling. As such, it is truly a work of the highest promise.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Durand, N. A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand</span> has contributed largely to the present exhibition, in every + sense of the word. His most prominent production is No. 36, ‘The Solitary Oak.’ For an + exhibition-picture, perhaps it is not so striking as some of his previous works; yet it will + bear examination better. Without any effort at warmth of color, it has that glow of sunlight + which it is so difficult to express. A veteran tree, standing alone upon a gentle eminence, + stretching forth its giant arms, that have withstood the storms of centuries, is truly + a noble subject for an artist of Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand’s</span> reputation; and most truly has he depicted + it. The distance is beautiful, and the introduction of cattle seeking their evening shelter + gives an interest seldom to be found in works of this class. Should we attempt to find a + fault, it would be the want of a little more warmth and clearness in the dark parts of the + fore-ground. No. 134, another charming landscape; true to nature, of a silvery tone, and + most exquisite sweetness of color and delicacy of touch. Nos. 181 and 258 are two careful + studies from nature, wherein special care has been given to the trunks of trees, a feature + in landscape-painting upon which sufficient attention is rarely bestowed. No. 244, ‘Emigrant + Family,’ is full of interest. The travelling family are encamped under the shade of + <a class="pagenum" id="page597" title="597"> </a>the trees, and the kettle hung over the fire shows that they are evidently preparing to refresh + themselves for farther toil and journeying. The foliage of the trees is elaborately + executed; the distance is well preserved; and the whole possesses great truth to nature; + perhaps however, like all ‘<em>green</em>’ pictures, it is less attractive in an exhibition than works + of a warmer color. No. 163, ‘Portrait of a Gentleman,’ has great force, and shows the + artist’s versatility of genius.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">F. W. Edmonds, N. A.</span>—No. 105, ‘Beggar’s Petition,’ is a spirited and faithful representation + of the cold indifference to the wants of others, displayed in the miser’s disposition. + The figures are of life-size, and well drawn. The female supplicating in behalf of the + distressed, is graceful in attitude, and admirably contrasted with the hoarding miser. + No. 205, ‘The Image Pedler,’ is an effort of a higher order; for the artist has attempted, + and successfully too, to elevate the class of works to which it belongs. In short, he has + invested a humble subject with a moral dignity, which we hope our younger artists, + who paint in this department, will not lose sight of. An independent farmer has his + family around him, apparently immediately after dinner, and a strolling pedler appears + among them, to dispose of his wares; and this gives interest to the whole group. The + grandmother drops her peeling-knife, and the mother takes her infant from the cradle, + to gaze at the sights in the pedler’s basket. The husband, who has been reading in + the cool breeze of the window, turns to participate in the sport; while the grandfather + takes a bust of <span class="special_name">Washington</span>, places it on the table, and commences an earnest + elucidation of the character of the, ‘Father of his Country’ to the little children around + him. All the figures are intelligent, and the whole scene conveys to the mind a <em>happy + family</em>. In color, light and shade, and composition, it is masterly; and we see in it that + minuteness of detail and careful finish are not incompatible with a broad and luminous + effect.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">C. L. Elliott</span> has five portraits in the exhibition. His ‘Full-length of <span class="special_name">Gov. Seward</span>’ + is a prominent one, although not his most agreeable picture. No. 61 is we think the best, + and is a well-managed portrait, both in drawing and color.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">G. W. Flagg, H.</span>—No. 63, ‘Half-length of a Lady,’ has considerable merit. It is rich and + mellow in color, and better we think than many of Mr. <span class="special_name">Flagg’s</span> recent works. No. 208, + ‘The Widow,’ is a popular picture; pleasing in expression, and possessing more refinement + of character than is observable in many of his other portraits. No. 102, ‘Bianca Visconti,’ + we do not admire.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">G. Freeman.</span>—Miniature portraits, generally large, and highly finished. This gentleman + has lately arrived from Europe, and is we believe a popular artist; yet we do not like + his productions.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. Frothingham, N. A.</span>—Nos. 32 and 35: portraits exhibiting Mr. <span class="special_name">Frothingham’s</span> + usual bold and free style in this department of art; remarkably fine likenesses; true in color, + and of pleasing general effect.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">H. P. Gray, N. A.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray</span> exhibits a number of his works this season. He seems + to us to sacrifice every thing to color; and his color is not such as is generally seen in nature, + but rather what he has seen in pictures. This we think a mistake, and one which + we must be permitted to hope he will rectify. In the pictures which he formerly painted, a + much closer attention to nature is observable. Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray</span> has all the feeling of an artist, + with no ordinary talent; and we regret to find that he wanders from the direct path. We + were among the first, if not the very first, to call public attention to his merits, and it is + with reluctance that we perform the duty involved in these animadversions. ‘Comparisons,’ + <span class="special_name">Dogberry</span> tells us, ‘are odorous;’ we cannot help remarking, however, that Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray’s</span> + old fellow-student, <span class="special_name">Huntington</span>, is (<em>longa intervallo</em>) in the advance. We prefer, of our + artist’s present efforts, the picture of ‘His Wife.’ It has a pleasing effect, and is more finished + than usual, and more natural in tone than his ‘Magdalen.’</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">J. T. Harris, A.</span>, has two pictures, and both portraits. No. 19 is the best. It exhibits + <a class="pagenum" id="page598" title="598"> </a>a broad, free touch, and correct drawing, and is withal an excellent likeness. But we + never look at Mr. <span class="special_name">Harris’</span> works without being impressed with the idea that they are not + finished. They seem to us, to borrow an artistical expression, as if they were in a capital + state for ‘glazing and toning up.’ Otherwise, they are above the ordinary run of portraits.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">G. P. A. Healy, H.</span>—Mr. <span class="special_name">Healy</span> is a resident of Paris, but an American. He is a + favorite at the French court, and has by this means a reputation to which his works generally + do not entitle him. We are bound in justice to say of his present effort, however, that + it is an exceedingly fine picture. It is boldly and masterly executed; forcibly drawn, honestly + colored, and well expressed. There is too about it a freedom from all the usual tricks + of the profession, such as a red chair, velvet collar, and fantastic back-ground, which we + particularly recommend to the attention of young artists.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Thomas Hicks, A.</span>, has eight pictures in the collection, but none, excepting his portraits, + which equal his former productions. No. 264, ‘The Mother’s Grave,’ is an oft-repeated + subject, and should not be attempted unless the artist is able to treat it with entire originality. + There are good points about it, but none sufficiently attractive to warrant particular + notice.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Ingham, N. A.</span>, as usual has a fine collection of female portraits, all excellent for their + careful drawing, lady-like expression, and high finish. The drapery and accessories of + Mr. <span class="special_name">Ingham’s</span> portraits are always wonderfully exact to nature; and this greatly enhances + the value of portraits of this description; for aside from their merit as likenesses, they will + always be valuable as pictures. His male portrait, No. 113, of <span class="special_name">T. S. Cummings</span>, Esq., is + a most admirable likeness, as well as a highly-wrought and masterly-painted picture. No. + 239, ‘Portrait of a Lady,’ with a fan in her hand, is our favorite among his female heads. + There is a sweetness and modesty in the expression, not only in the countenance but in the + whole figure, which makes it peculiarly attractive.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">H. Inman, N. A.</span>—No. 62, ‘Portrait of the late Bishop <span class="special_name">Moore</span>, of Virginia,’ is the admiration + of all who behold it. In color it surpasses any thing of Mr. <span class="special_name">Inman’s</span> we have seen + in many a day. Clear and luminous, with great breadth of light, and a mild, pleasing expression. + We of course mean this to apply to the head. The hand and part of the drapery + are not, in our judgment, so well done. No. 104, ‘Lady with a Mask,’ we do not altogether + like; yet it is remarkable for being foreshortened in every part, and possesses that singular + charm of light and shadow, and accidental effect, which are the characteristics of our artist’s + pencil. No. 314, a Landscape, although small, is delicately handled, and ‘touched + in’ with great neatness and accuracy. In effect it is attractive, and in color pleasing. The + figure in the fore-ground equals in care and minuteness of finish the manner of <span class="special_name">Wouvermans</span>.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">N. Jocelyn.</span>—No. 57, ‘Portrait of Professor <span class="special_name">Silliman</span>,’ a faithful likeness, and carefully-painted + portrait of a distinguished individual. No. 2, ‘Portrait of a Child,’ is another + finished picture by this artist; clear and pearly in color and infantile in expression.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">Alfred Jones.</span>—No. 301, an engraving from <span class="special_name">Mount’s</span> picture of ‘Nooning,’ for the + American Art-Union, is one of the largest line-engravings ever published in this country, + and a work of high order. This style of engraving has heretofore received so little encouragement, + that until the Art-Union started it, no one except Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand</span> had ever before + dared to attempt it. This effort of Mr. <span class="special_name">Jones</span> does him great credit.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">M. Livingstone, A.</span>, has several works in the exhibition, but we cannot rank them + among the higher class of landscapes. They lack the poetry of landscape-painting; but + as amateur productions, they are very good.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">E. D. Marchant, A.</span>—All portraits, but none of high merit. Mr. <span class="special_name">Marchant</span> is a persevering + artist, who paints good likenesses and pleasing pictures; and so far, is doubtless + popular with those who employ him.</p> + + <p><span class="special_name">John Megarey</span> has two portraits, and those far surpassing his former works. They are + carefully painted, without an effort at any thing beyond the subject before the artist.</p> + + <p>We shall resume and conclude our remarks upon the exhibition in our next number.</p> + + </div> + + <div class="ed_table_item" id="gossip"> + <div class="gossip_section"> + <p><a class="pagenum" id="page599" title="599"> </a><span class="ed_table_title">Gossip with Readers and Correspondents.</span>—We are about to enter upon the + <span class="small_all_caps">TWENTY-FOURTH</span> volume of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, for the advertisement of which, please + note the second and third pages of the cover of the present number. We have nothing + farther to add, than that ‘what <em>has been</em>, is that which <em>shall be</em>,’ in our onward progress. + This Magazine, much the oldest in the United States, has been established, by the ever-unabated + favor of the public, upon a basis of unshaken permanence. Its subscription-list + fluctuates only in advance; it has the <em>affection</em> of its readers, and all concerned in its production + and promulgation, to a degree wholly unexampled; and it is designed not only to + maintain, but continually to enhance, its just claims upon the liberal patronage of American + readers. The arrangements for the next volume, if they do not ‘preclude competition,’ will + be found, it is confidently believed, to preclude any thing like successful rivalry, on the part + of any of our contemporaries. On this point, however, we choose as heretofore to be + judged by the public. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> gave in a recent issue two or three extracts from a lecture + on ‘<cite>The Inner Life of Man</cite>’ delivered by Mr. <span class="special_name">Charles Hoover</span>, at Newark, New-Jersey. + This admirable performance has since been repeated to a highly gratified audience + in this city; and from it we derive the following beautiful passage, which we commend to + the heart of every lover of his kind: ‘It is a maxim of patriotism never to despair of the + republic. Let it be the motto of our philanthropy never to despair of our sinning, sorrowing + brother, till his last lingering look upon life has been taken, and all avenues by which angels + approach the stricken heart are closed and silent forever. And in such a crisis, let no + counsel be taken of narrow, niggard sentiment. When in a sea-storm some human being + is seen in the distant surf, clinging to a plank, that is sometimes driven nearer to the shore, + and sometimes carried farther off; sometimes buried in the surge, and then rising again, as + if itself struggling like the almost hopeless sufferer it supports, who looks sadly to the shore + as he rises from every wave, and battling with the billow, mingles his cry for help with the + wild, mournful scream of the sea-bird; nature in every bosom on the shore is instinct with + anxious pity for his fate, and darts her sympathies to him over the laboring waters. The + child drops his play-things, and old age grasps its crutch and hurries to the spot; and the + hand that cannot fling a rope is lifted to heaven for help. What though the sufferer be a + stranger, a foreigner, an enemy even? Nature in trouble, in consternation, shrieks ‘<em>He is + a man!</em>’ and every heart and hand is prompt to the rescue.’ ‘To a high office and ministry, + to a life of beneficence, pity and love, each man should deem himself called by a divine + vocation, by the appointment of nature; and otherwise living, should judge himself + to be an abortion, a mistake, without signification or use in a world like ours. And the + beauty, the glory of such a life, is not to be reckoned among ideal things heard out of heaven + but never encountered by the eye. This world has had its <span class="special_name">Christ</span>, its <span class="special_name">Fenelons</span>, its + <span class="special_name">Howards</span>, as well as its <span class="special_name">Caligulas</span> and <span class="special_name">Neros</span>. Love hath been at times a manifestation + as well as a principle; and the train of its glory swept far below the stars, and its brightness + has fallen in mitigated and mellowed rays from the faces of men. As the ambiguous + stranger-star of Bethlehem had its interpreting angel-song to the herdsmen of the plains, so + loving men in all ages have given glimpses and interpretations of the love of <span class="special_name">God</span>, and of + the pity that is felt for the miserable and the guilty in the palace and presence-chamber of + <span class="special_name">Jehovah</span>. What glory within the scope of human imitation and attainment is comparable to + that of the beneficent, the sympathising lover of his race? What more elevated, pure, and + beautiful is possible among the achievements of an endless progression in heaven itself? + <span class="special_name">Milton</span> represents the profoundest emotions of joy and wonder among the celestial hosts + as occasioned by the first anticipative disclosures of divine pity toward sinning man; and + a greater than <span class="special_name">Milton</span> assures us that the transport and festival of angelic joy occurs when + Pity lifts the penitent from his prostration and forgives his folly.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Embellishment</span> + would seem to be the literary order of the day, in more ways than one. It has come to be + the mode to express the most simple thought in the most magniloquent phrase. This propensity + <a class="pagenum" id="page600" title="600"> </a>to lingual <em>Euphuism</em> has given rise to sundry illustrations, in embellished maxims, + which are particularly amusing. They are of the sort so finely satirized by ‘<span class="special_name">Ollapod</span>,’ on + one occasion, two or three examples of which we annex. The common phrase of ‘’Tis + an ill wind that blows nobody any good’ was transformed into ‘That gale is truly diseased + which puffeth benefactions to nonentity;’ ‘Let well enough alone,’ into ‘Suffer a healthy + sufficiency to remain in solitude;’ and ‘What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,’ + into ‘The culinary adornments which suffice for the female of the race <em>Anser</em>, + maybe relished also with the masculine adult of the same species.’ Some London wag, + in a kindred spirit, has illustrated the cockney song, ‘If I had a donkey as vouldn’t go, + do you think I’d wallop him?’ etc., as follows: ‘The herbaceous boon and the bland recommendation + to advance, are more operative on the ansinine quadruped than the stern + imprecation and the oaken cudgel:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Had I an ass averse to speed,</p> + <p>I ne’er would strike him; no indeed!</p> + <p>I’d give him hay, and cry ‘Proceed,’</p> + <p class="i6">And ‘Go on <span class="special_name">Edward</span>!’’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>The same species of satire is now and then visited upon the ‘Troubadour Songs,’ which + have become so afflictingly common of late years. Some of these we have already given; + and we find them on the increase in England. We have before us, from the London press + of <span class="special_name">Tilt and Bogue</span>, ‘Sir <span class="special_name">Whystleton Mugges</span>, a Metrical Romaunte, in three Fyttes,’ + with copious notes. A stanza or two will suffice as a specimen. The knightly hero, it + needs only to premise, has been jilted by his fair ‘ladye-love,’ who retires to her boudoir, + while the knight walks off in despair:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘Hys herte beat high and quycke;</p> + <p>Forth to his tygere he did call,</p> + <p>‘Bring me my palfrey from his stall,</p> + <p class="i2">For I moste cotte my stycke!’</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class="i2">‘Ye stede was brought, ye knyghte jomped up,</p> + <p>He woulde not even stay to sup,</p> + <p class="i2">But swyft he rode away;</p> + <p>Still groanynge as he went along,</p> + <p>And vowing yet to come out stronge,</p> + <p class="i2">Upon some future day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Alack for poore Syr <span class="special_name">Whystleton</span>,</p> + <p class="i2">In love and warre so bold!</p> + <p>Ye Ladye <span class="special_name">Blanche</span> hym browne hath done,</p> + <p class="i2">He is completely solde!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Completely solde alack he is,</p> + <p class="i2">Alack and wel-a-day;</p> + <p>Mort <span class="special_name">Dieu</span>! a bitterre fate is hys</p> + <p class="i2">Whose trewe love sayth him nay!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Thus endeth ‘Fytte ye First.’ We learn from the preface that the ‘Rhime of the Manne + whose Mothre did not Know he was Out,’ and ‘Ye Lodgemente of Maistre <span class="special_name">Fergisoune</span>,’ + are also in the editor’s possession, but owing to the imperfect state of the <span class="small_all_caps">MSS.</span>, it is doubtful + whether they will ever be published. They have however been submitted to the inspection + of ‘The <span class="special_name">Percy</span> Society!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> are well pleased to learn that Sir <span class="special_name">Edward + Lytton Bulwer</span>, the distinguished author, is soon to visit the United States. That he + will be warmly welcomed and cordially received, we cannot doubt; but we have good + reason to believe that in the present instance at least our admiration of true genius will be + tempered by all proper self-respect. Mr. <span class="special_name">Bulwer</span> has for many years entertained a desire + to visit America. In one of his letters to the late <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord Clark</span>, now lying + before us, he writes: ‘I have long felt a peculiar admiration for your great and rising country; + and it gives me a pleasure far beyond that arising from a vulgar notoriety, to think that + I am not unknown to its inhabitants. Some time or other I hope to visit you, and suffer my + <a class="pagenum" id="page601" title="601"> </a>present prepossessions to be confirmed by actual experience.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> have received and + perused with gratification the last report of the ‘<em>New-York Asylum for Deaf Mutes</em>.’ The + institution is in the most flourishing condition, and its usefulness greatly increased. We + are sorry to perceive, by the following ‘specimen of composition’ of a pupil in the eighth + class, that the ‘Orphic Sayings’ of Mr. <span class="special_name">A. Bronson Alcott</span> are taken as literary models + by the deaf and dumb students. The ensuing is certainly much better, internally, than + anything from the transcendental ‘seer;’ but the manner too nearly resembles his, for + both to be original. There is the same didactic condensation, the same Orphic ‘oneness,’ + which distinguishes all <em>Alcottism</em> proper. It is entitled ‘Story of Hog:’</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I walked</span> on the road. I stood near the water. I undressed my feet. I went in the water. I + stood under the bridge. I sat on the log. I washed my feet with hands. I looked at large water + came. I ran in the water. I ran out the water. The large water floated fast. I afraid. I wiped feet + with stockings. I dressed my feet with stockings and shoes. I went on the ground. I stood on the + ground. I seen at the hog ate grass. The hog seen at me. I went on the ground. I ran. The hog + heard. The hog looked at me. It ran and jumped. The hog ran under the fence and got his head + under the fence and want to ran out the fence! I caught ears its hog. The hog shout. I pulled the + hog out the fence. I struck a hog with hand. I rided on the hog ran and jumped fast. The hog ran + fell on near the water. I rided off a hog. I stood. I held one ear its hog. The hog slept lies on + near the water. I waited. I leaved. I went from the hog. The hog awoke. It rose. It saw not + me. It ran and jumped. The hog went from the water. The hog went in the mud and water. The + hog wallowed in the mud and water became very dirty. It slept. I went. I went into the house.’</p> + </blockquote> + + </div> + + <div class="gossip_section"> + <p><span class="first_word">The Ekkalaeobion</span> is the name given to an establishment opposite the Washington + Hotel, in Broadway, where the formation of chickens, <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">ab initio</em>, is ‘practised to a great + extent.’ And really, it is in some respects an awful exhibition, to a reflecting mind. It is + as it were a visible exposition of the source of life. You see the pulse of existence throbbing + in the yet unformed mass, which assumes, day after day, the image of its kind; until + at length the little creature knocks for admittance into this breathing world; steps forth + from the shell in which it had been so long ‘cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in;’ and + straitway walks abroad, ‘regenerated, disenthralled,’ and ready for its ‘grub.’ By all + means, reader, go and see this interesting and instructive exhibition. It is provocative of + much reflection, aside from the mere contemplation of it as a matter of curiosity. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> + correspondent who sends us the following, writes upon the envelope containing it: ‘I have + endeavored to preserve the measure of the original, and at the same time to present a + literal translation.’ It will be conceded, we think, that he has been successful in his endeavor. + Perhaps in some lines (as in ‘<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pertransivit gladius</em>’) the translation is a little <i>too</i> + literal:</p> + + <h3 class="subtitle">STABAT MATER.</h3> + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4> + <p><span class="first_word">Stabat</span> mater dolorosa,</p> + <p>Juxta crucem lacrymosa,</p> + <p class="i2">Dum pendebat filius:</p> + <p>Cujus animam gementem,</p> + <p>Contristantem et dolentem,</p> + <p class="i2">Pertransivit gladius.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4> + <p><span class="first_word">Near</span> the cross the Mother weeping</p> + <p>Stood, her watch in sorrow keeping</p> + <p class="i2">While was hanging there her <span class="special_name">Son</span>:</p> + <p>Through her soul in anguish groaning,</p> + <p>O most sad, <span class="special_name">His</span> fate bemoaning,</p> + <p class="i2">Through and through that sword was run.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4> + <p>O quam tristis et afflicta</p> + <p>Fuit illa benedicta,</p> + <p class="i2">Mater unigeniti:</p> + <p>Quæ mœrebat, et dolebat,</p> + <p>Et tremebat, cum videbat</p> + <p class="i2">Nati pœnas inclyti.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4> + <p>Oh how sad with woe oppressed,</p> + <p>Was she then, the Mother blessed,</p> + <p class="i2">Who the sole-begotten bore:</p> + <p>As she saw his pain and anguish,</p> + <p>She did tremble, she did languish,</p> + <p class="i2">Weep her holy Son before.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4> + <p>Quis est homo qui non fleret,</p> + <p>Christi matrem si videret</p> + <p class="i2">In tanto supplicio?</p> + <p>Quis posset non contristari,</p> + <p>Piam matrem contemplari,</p> + <p class="i2">Dolentem cum filio?</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4> + <p>Who is he his tears concealing,</p> + <p>Could have seen such anguish stealing</p> + <p class="i2">Through the Saviour-mother’s breast?</p> + <p>Who his deepest groans could smother,</p> + <p>Had he seen the holy Mother</p> + <p class="i2">By her Son with grief oppressed!</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page602" title="602"> </a>IV.</h4> + <p>Pro peccatis suæ gentis</p> + <p>Vidit Jesum in tormentis,</p> + <p class="i2">Et flagellis subditum;</p> + <p>Vidit suum dulcem natum</p> + <p>Morientem, desolatum,</p> + <p class="i2">Dum emisit spiritum.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">IV.</h4> + <p>Christ for Israel’s transgression</p> + <p>Saw she suffer thus oppression,</p> + <p class="i2">Torment, and the cruel blow:</p> + <p>Saw Him desolate and dying;</p> + <p>Him she loved, beheld Him sighing</p> + <p class="i2">Forth His soul in deepest woe.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">V.</h4> + <p>Eja mater, fons amoris,</p> + <p>Me sentire vim doloris</p> + <p class="i2">Fac, ut tecum lugeam.</p> + <p>Fac ut ardeat cor meum,</p> + <p>In amando Christum Deum,</p> + <p class="i2">Ut sibi complaceam.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">V.</h4> + <p>Source of love, thy grief, O Mother,</p> + <p>Grant with thee to share another—</p> + <p class="i2">Grant that I with thee may weep:</p> + <p>May my heart with love be glowing,</p> + <p>All on Christ my God bestowing,</p> + <p class="i2">In His favor ever keep.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VI.</h4> + <p>Saneta mater, istud agas,</p> + <p>Crucifixi fige plagas</p> + <p class="i2">Cordi meo valide:</p> + <p>Tui nati vulnerati,</p> + <p>Jam dignati pro me pati,</p> + <p class="i2">Pœnas mecum divide.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VI.</h4> + <p>This, oh holy Mother! granting,</p> + <p>In my heart the wounds implanting</p> + <p class="i2">Of His cross, oh let me bear:</p> + <p>Pangs with which thy Son when wounded</p> + <p>Deigned for me to be surrounded,</p> + <p class="i2">Grant, oh grant that I may share.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VII.</h4> + <p>Fac me vere tecum flere,</p> + <p>Crucifixo condolere,</p> + <p class="i2">Donec ego vixero:</p> + <p>Juxta crucem tecum stare,</p> + <p>Te libenter sociare</p> + <p class="i2">In planctu desidero.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VII.</h4> + <p>Be my eyes with tears o’erflowing,</p> + <p>For the crucified bestowing,</p> + <p class="i2">Till my eyes shall close in death:</p> + <p>Ever by that cross be standing,</p> + <p>Willingly with thee demanding</p> + <p class="i2">But to share each mournful breath.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VIII.</h4> + <p>Virgo virginum præclara,</p> + <p>Mihi jam non sis amara</p> + <p class="i2">Fac me tecum plangere;</p> + <p>Fadut portem Christi mortem,</p> + <p>Passionis ejus sortem,</p> + <p class="i2">Et plagas recolere.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">VIII.</h4> + <p>Thou of virgins blest forever,</p> + <p>Oh deny I pray thee never</p> + <p class="i2">That I may lament with thee:</p> + <p>Be my soul His death enduring,</p> + <p>And His passion—thus securing</p> + <p class="i2">Of His pains the memory.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">IX.</h4> + <p>Fac me plagis vulnerari,</p> + <p>Cruce hac inebriari,</p> + <p class="i2">Ob amorem filii:</p> + <p>Inflammatus et accensus</p> + <p>Per te, virgo, sim defensus</p> + <p class="i2">In die judicii.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">IX.</h4> + <p>With those blows may I be smitten,</p> + <p>In my heart that cross be written,</p> + <p class="i2">For thy Son’s dear love alway:</p> + <p>Glowing, burning with affection,</p> + <p>Grant me, Virgin! thy protection,</p> + <p class="i2">In the dreaded judgment-day.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + + <div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la"> + <h4 class="subtitle">X.</h4> + <p>Fac me cruce custodiri,</p> + <p>Morte Christi præmuniri,</p> + <p class="i2">Confoveri gratia:</p> + <p>Quando corpus morietur,</p> + <p>Fac ut animæ donetur</p> + <p class="i2">Paradisi gloria.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <h4 class="subtitle">X.</h4> + <p>May that cross its aid extend me,</p> + <p>May the death of Christ defend me,</p> + <p class="i2">With its saving grace surround;</p> + <p>And when life’s last link is riven,</p> + <p>To my soul be glory given,</p> + <p class="i2">That in Paradise is found.</p> + </div> + + <div class="clear_div"></div> + </div> + + <p class="sign"><span class="location">St. Paul’s College.</span> <span class="author">G. H. H.</span></p> + + </div> + + <div class="gossip_section"> + <p><span class="first_word">Our</span> Pine-street correspondent, who addresses us upon the ‘<em>Fashionable Society in New-York</em>,’ + writes from the promptings of an honest-hearted frankness, <em>that</em> is quite clear; but + he has not yet acquired that sort of useful information which is conveyed by the term, + ‘knowing the world.’ The ‘fashionable circles’ <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">par excellence</em>, whose breeding and bearing + he impugns, are of the <span class="special_name">Beauvoir</span> school; persons who ‘are of your <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gens de cotorie</em>; + your people of the real ‘caste’ and ‘tone;’ that is, your people who singly would be set + down as nought in society, but who, as a ‘set,’ have managed to make their joint-stock impudence + imposing.’ Our correspondent, we suspect, has one important lesson to learn in + his intercourse with such persons; and it is a lesson which has been felicitously set forth + by a late English essayist. There is a recipe in some old book, he says, ‘How to avoid + <a class="pagenum" id="page603" title="603"> </a>being tossed by a bull;’ and the instruction is, ‘<em>Toss him.</em>’ Try the experiment upon the + first coxcomb who fancies that you are his inferior; charge first, and give him to understand + at once that he is yours. Be coldly supercilious with all ‘important’ catiffs, and most + punctual be your attention to any matter in debate; but let no temptation prevail with you + to touch on any earthly point beyond it. In the case alluded to, a pompous old baronet + comes down stairs loaded to the very muzzle to repress ‘familiarity’ on the part of a young + man, who from an estate of dependence has recently mounted by inheritance to a princely + fortune; but the cool, quiet young gentleman finds the old baronet guilty of ‘familiarity’ + himself, and makes him bear the penalty of it, before six sentences are exchanged between + them. The secret of the whole thing was, a quiet look directly in the eye, and the preservation + of a deliberate silence; the true way to dissolve your pompous gentleman or affected + ‘fashionable’ lady. The baronet’s long pauses the young heir did not move to interrupt. + His mere <em>listening</em> drew the old aristocrat gradually out; his auditor replied monosyllabically, + and made him pull him all the way. It was pitiful to see the old buzzard, + who thought himself high and mighty, compelled to communicate with one who would + have no notion of any body’s being high and mighty at all; getting gradually out of patience + at the obstinate formality he was compelled to encounter, which he was sure any + direct overture toward intimacy on his part would remove; and at last, in the midst of his + doubts whether he should be familiar with the young man, being struck with a stronger + doubt whether such familiarity would be reciprocated; it was a rich scene altogether, and + worthy of being remembered by our correspondent. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> May issue of the ‘<cite>Cultivator</cite>’ + agricultural Magazine, which under the supervision of the late <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord</span> + reached a circulation of between forty and fifty thousand copies, contains an elaborate + notice of its lamented editor, in which we find (in a letter from <span class="special_name">H. S. Randall</span>, Esq.,) the + following passage:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">His</span> reading was literally boundless. He was as familiar with the natural sciences, history, poetry, + and belles-letters, as with agriculture, and nearly if not quite as well qualified to discuss them. It + was difficult to start any literary topic which you did not at once perceive had been examined by him + with the eye of a scholar and critic. In one of my letters, half sportively, yet in a serious tone, I + asked him ‘what he thought of the German Philosophy?’ In his answer, <span class="special_name">Kant</span> and <span class="special_name">Fichte</span>, and I + think <span class="special_name">Schelling</span> and <span class="special_name">Jacobi</span>, were discussed with as much familiarity as most scholars would find + themselves qualified to make use of in speaking of <span class="special_name">Locke</span>, or <span class="special_name">Stewart</span>, or <span class="special_name">Brown</span>. In commenting + on the report of mine, (on Common School Libraries,) alluded to by him in the last Cultivator, he + betrays an extensive knowledge of the literature of nearly every nation in Europe. As a writer, the + public have long been acquainted with Mr. <span class="special_name">Gaylord</span>. He wrote on nearly every class of topics connected + with human improvement; in papers, magazines, and not unfrequently in books. But it is as + an agricultural writer that he is best known. Here, taken all in all, he stands unrivalled. There are + many agricultural writers in our country who are as well or better qualified to discuss a single topic, + than he was. But I deem it not disrespectful to say, that for acquaintance with and ability to discuss + clearly and correctly every department of agricultural science, he has not, he never has had, an + equal in this State. He was every way fitted for an editor. Placable and forgiving in his temper; + modest, disinterested, unprejudiced; never evincing a foolish credulity; above deception, despising + quackery; with an honesty of motive that was never suspected.’</p> + </blockquote> + + <p>No one who knew intimately our lamented relative and friend, but will confirm the + justice of this encomium. We trust that a collection of <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord’s</span> writings, literary, + scientific, and agricultural, will be made by some competent hand. They are demanded, + we perceive, by various public journals throughout the country. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="special_name">Professor + Gouraud’s</span> extraordinary exposition of <em>Phreno-Mnemotechny</em> seems to be winning him + ‘fame and fortune’ wherever he goes. He was in Philadelphia at the last advices, where + his success was to the full as signal as in this city. It is obvious, we think, that the advantages + of this great system will hereafter be chiefly enjoyed by the rising generation, who + will thus be enabled to attain in six months an amount of information which in the ordinary + way could scarcely be mastered in as many years. Still, the science has already + been studied by hundreds of highly-endowed <em>men</em>, persons eminent in their own peculiar + walks, who have cheerfully yielded their tributes of admiration to its vast resources. + Several excellent articles upon this theme have from time to time appeared in the columns + of the ‘New World’ weekly journal, from the pen of Mr. <span class="special_name">Mackay</span>, one of the editors; + who, being himself a pupil of Mr. <span class="special_name">Gouraud</span>, writes from personal experience of the matter + <a class="pagenum" id="page604" title="604"> </a>in question. ‘A thousand dollars,’ he avers, ‘would not be a fair equivalent for the + great advantages obtainable by Phreno-Mnemotechny;’ and in this opinion there is a general + concurrence of Professor <span class="special_name">Gouraud’s</span> pupils in this city. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">What</span> a power there + is in much of the occasional music one hears, to stir the heart! Perhaps you never heard + <span class="special_name">Brough</span>, to the ‘instrumentation’ of that fine composer and most facile performer, ‘<span class="special_name">Frank + Brown</span>,’ sing <span class="special_name">Barry Cornwall’s</span> ‘King Death,’ or ‘The Admiral and the Shark?’ No? + Then never let the opportunity to do so slip, if you should ever be so fortunate as to enjoy + it. Listen to the words of the first-named:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p><span class="first_word">King Death</span> was a rare old fellow,</p> + <p>He sat where no sun could shine;</p> + <p>And he lifted his hand so yellow,</p> + <p>And poured out his coal-black wine!</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There came to him many a maiden,</p> + <p>Whose eyes had forgot to shine,</p> + <p>And widows with grief o’er laden,</p> + <p>For a draught of his sleepy wine.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>The scholar left all his learning,</p> + <p>The poet his fancied woes;</p> + <p>And the beauty her bloom returning</p> + <p>Like life to the fading rose.</p> + </div> + + <h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>All came to the rare old fellow,</p> + <p>Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,</p> + <p>As he gave them his hand so yellow,</p> + <p>And pledged them in <span class="special_name">Death’s</span> black wine.</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p><span class="first_word">We</span> should reluct at consorting with any citizen who could hear this song executed, in + the manner of <span class="special_name">Brough</span>, without feeling the electric fluid coursing <em>up</em> his vertebra, and + passing off at the points of his hair, as the hollow tones waver down the chromatic, or + wail in low and spondaic monotones. ‘F. B.’ was ‘rich’ in ‘<cite>Over There</cite>,’ a song which, + like the numerous platitudes of the ‘Brigadier-General,’ is indebted to its music for its popularity. + There ensues a verse that is very striking:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Oh! I wish I was a geese,</p> + <p class="i6">Over there! over there!</p> + <p>Oh! I wish I was a geese,</p> + <p class="i6">Over there!</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Oh I wish I was a geese,</p> + <p>’Cause they lives and dies in peace,</p> + <p>And accumulates much grease,</p> + <p class="i6">Over there!’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Nothing by the author of <span class="special_name">Thomas Campbell’s</span> ‘Woodman Spare that Beechen-Tree’ + amended, equals the foregoing in the melody of its language or ‘breadth of effect.’ Speaking + of songs: what can be more delightful than those of our fair correspondent Mrs. + <span class="special_name">Hewitt</span>? Her translations are excellent; and the words she has written for the use of that + great musical genius, <span class="special_name">Wallace</span>, in his romance of ‘Le Réve,’ are ‘beautiful exceedingly.’ + Mrs. <span class="special_name">Bailey</span>, a most pleasing <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">artiste</em>, well remembered here, has recently produced them at + her concerts in Baltimore, with great <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éclat</em>. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">The ‘Spirit of the Times</span>,’ with its + numerous and ample pages, filled to overflowing with a variety which always seems to + embrace ‘every thing that’s going;’ whether relating to all sorts of matters interesting to + all sorts of sportsmen, or to literature, the drama, agricultural science, and the fine arts; + this same widely popular journal is now afforded at <span class="small_all_caps">FIVE DOLLARS A YEAR</span>! ‘Ask that gentleman + to sit down; he’s said enough!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Every-body</span> must remember the ‘Boots’ who + figures in one of <span class="special_name">Dickens’</span> stories, who was wont to designate all the lodgers by the + names of their different kinds of boots, shoes, slippers, etc. The author of ‘<cite>The Two Patrons</cite>,’ + a capital tale in the last number of <span class="special_name">Blackwood’s</span> Magazine, has a serving-man of + a similar kind, who in commenting upon the visitors at his master’s house, compares them + to diverse dishes, as shadowing forth the relative degrees of aristocracy. He establishes + some one supereminent article of food as a high ideal, to which all other kinds of edibles + are to be referred; and the farther removed from this imaginary point of perfection any + dish appears, the more vulgar and common-place it becomes: ‘They are low, uncommon + low; reg’lar b’iled mutton and turnips. They may be rich, but they a’nt genteel. Nothink + won’t do but to be at it from the very beginning; fight after it as much as they like; wear + the best of gownds, and go to the fustest of boarding-schools; though they plays ever so + well on the piando, and talks Italian like a reg’lar Frenchman, nothink won’t do; there’s + <a class="pagenum" id="page605" title="605"> </a>the b’iled mutton and turnips sticking out still. Lady <span class="special_name">Charlotte</span>, now, is a werry different + affair; quite the roast fowl and bl’mange; how unlike <em>our</em> young ladies!—b’iled + veals and parsley and butters—shocking wulgarity! And look at the father: I never see + no gentleman with so broad a back, except p’raps a prize-ox.’ There is another very amusing + character in the same story; one of those stupid matter-of-fact persons, who can never + appreciate a figure of speech, or understand the simplest jest. A ‘benign cerulean,’ enthusiastic + for the ‘rights of the sex,’ remarks that woman’s rights and duties are becoming + every day more widely appreciated. ‘The old-fashioned scale must be readjusted; and + woman, noble, elevating, surprising woman, ascend to the loftiest eminence, and sit superior + on the topmost branch of the social tree.’ The ear of the matter-of-fact man catches + the last simile, and he ventures to say: ‘Uncommon bad climbers, for the most part in + general, is women. Their clothes isn’t adapted to it. I minds once I seen a woman climb + a pole after a leg of mutting!’ If looks could have killed the mal-apropos speaker, he + would not have survived the reception which this ridiculous remark encountered from every + guest at the table. He was himself struck with the mournful silence that followed his observation, + and added, by way of explanation: ‘That was a thing as happing’d on a pole; + in coors it would be werry different on a tree, because of the branches.’ At length, however, + the theme of woman is renewed by the former advocate: ‘Woman has not yet received + her full development. The time will come when her influence shall be universal; + when, softened, subdued, and elevated, the animal now called Man will be unknown. + You will be all women: can the world look for a higher destiny?’ ‘In coors,’ observed + the old spoon, ‘if we are all turned into woming, the world will come to an end. For + ‘spose a case; ‘spose it had been my sister as married my wife, instead of me; it’s probable + there would’nt have been no great fambly; wich in coors, if there was no population——’ + What the fearful result of this supposed case would have been, was not permitted to transpire. + The feminine ‘b’iled veals and parsley and butters’ immediately rose and left the + table, and the matter-of-fact man to the ridicule of the male guests. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> If our metropolitan + friend ‘S.,’ who has disappointed us in a paper intended for the present number, + ‘by reason of that contemptible disorder, dyspepsia,’ will take our advice, he will not be + likely to fail us again, from a similar cause. Let him walk, as we do, some six or eight + miles every day; and above all, pay frequent visits to our old friend Dr. <span class="special_name">Rabineau’s</span> spacious + and delightful <em>Salt-Water Swimming Bath</em>, near Castle-Garden; always remembering + to make free use of his ‘crash towels.’ Dyspepsia never made a call upon us; and it + ‘doesn’t associate with any body’ that keeps company with that public benefactor, Dr. + <span class="special_name">Rabineau</span>. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> We should be reluctant to introduce the annexed profane story to our + readers, but that it forcibly illustrates a characteristic vice of the wandering natives of a + little island across the water, who are never at a loss for ‘themes of disgust’ in relation to + America, and the ‘revolting habits’ of American citizens. On the continent, an Englishman + is universally known by the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">soubriquet</em> of ‘Signor <span class="special_name">Goddam</span>; and many of our readers + wilt remember <span class="special_name">Byron’s</span> anecdote of the pompous Italian in London, who was desirous of + imitating the English style in the British metropolis. ‘Bring me,’ said he, with an imperious + tone, ‘bring me some wine! Why don’t you bring him?’ The servant answered: + ‘I will, Sir.’ ‘You <em>will</em>?’ rejoined the Italian; ‘you <em>will</em>, eh? <span class="special_name">Goddam</span>, you <span class="small_all_caps">MUSHT</span>!’ And + this settled the question. But to the story ‘under notice,’ which was picked up by our correspondent + at Cairo, in Egypt:</p> + + <blockquote> + <p>‘An impetuous Englishman, unacquainted with any language but his own, was desirous of seeing + Egypt, and satisfying himself by occular demonstration of the truth of the many wonders which he + had heard of that celebrated land. To get to Alexandria was easy enough; and some acquaintances + whom he had picked up on the way, kindly facilitated his journey to the Nile, and saw him fairly + afloat in his <em>cangea</em> for Cairo. But here, left with an Arab captain, and five swarthy Egyptians, his + difficulties commenced, and without knowing a single word of Arabic, he had to depend on his own + resources. The boats on the Nile are very ticklish flat-bottomed affairs, wretchedly handled. Before + the wind they rush up like steamers, but on a wind, go to lee-ward like feathers; while in consequence + of the Nile being full of shifting sand-banks, with a daily varying depth of water, they are + continually running aground in the middle of the river. To this add the laziness of the captain and + <a class="pagenum" id="page606" title="606"> </a>crew, to whom time was of no consequence; to-day, to-morrow, the next day, or a week hence, was all + the same to them; they had no preferment to look forward to, no release from labor but death; and + wisely enough, perhaps, exerted themselves as little as they could. ‘<em>Inshalla!</em> <span class="special_name">God</span> was great, and + the sun was hot! Why should they weary themselves?’ And so they took every opportunity to rest, + cook their miserable fare, and dawdle the listless hours away. Of these dilatory habits of the natives + the Englishman had been warned, and that whenever it happened, he was to prevent them from + stopping, and force them to go on.</p> + + <p>‘The opportunity was not long wanting. Without any reason sufficiently apparent to him, the huge + stone fastened to a coir cable, and doing duty for an anchor, was dropped overboard, and the crew + betook themselves to sleep. What was to be done? Of Arabic he had not a word to tell them to + proceed; but he had plenty of English; so by dint of shaking his stick at the captain, and a somewhat + boisterous ‘G-d d—n your eyes!’ roared out in a tone sufficiently indicative of his wishes, + the primitive ‘anchor’ was got up, and onward they proceeded. Delighted to find his most British + remonstrance succeed, he did not let it rust for want of practice; but every time the lazy crew attempted + to ‘bring to,’ the stamp, the roar, and the shake of the stick, with the never-failing objurgation, + were resorted to, and invariably with the same results. The passage up to Cairo averages three + days, but vessels have been known to be as many as nine. Seven, eight, nine days past; twelve, fourteen; + yet as if by magic, Grand Cairo seemed to recede before them. No time had been lost by him, + for the wind had been strong in their favor, and he scarcely allowed the crew to take the necessary + rest. It was very odd how greatly had he been misinformed in the distance! The very maps too + seemed leagued against him; his manifold measurings and calculations were of no apparent avail. + At last, at rising on the morning-of the fifteenth day, he found himself at anchor off a strange tumble-down-looking + town, which by signs the captain gave him to understand was the place of his destination. + Could that be ‘Grand Cairo!’ How odd! But then he was in a country of oddities; and on + stepping ashore, he encountered a sun-burnt English-looking man gazing earnestly at the new arrival.</p> + + <p>‘Is this Grand Cairo, Sir?’ inquired the astonished novice.</p> + + <p>‘Grand Cairo, Sir! Good <span class="special_name">God</span>, no! This is Kennah, a thousand miles beyond! Why, how the + devil did you manage to get up here without knowing it? Do you speak Arabic?’</p> + + <p>‘Not a word!’</p> + + <p>‘Umph! What language then <em>did</em> you speak?’</p> + + <p>‘No other than English; but when they stopped, I d—d their eyes soundly, and they seemed to + understand very well what <em>that</em> meant, for they were up anchor and off in a jiffy!’</p> + + <p>The stranger, who spoke Arabic fluently, sought an explanation of the native captain, and the + mystery was quickly solved.</p> + + <p>‘How did you contrive to get up here, <span class="special_name">Ryis</span>, instead of stopping at Cairo?’</p> + + <p>‘Why, Effendim, the Frank was the most impatient man in the world: no sooner did we stop to + cook, to rest, or for the wind, than stick in hand, and raving with passion, he stamped on the deck, + and with a gesture too imperious to be mistaken, shouted the only Arabic sentence which he seemed + to know, which was ‘<em>Goddam</em> Ryis!’—and ‘<em>Inshallah!</em>’ we got no rest, but were forced to work like + devils. We passed Bourlac (Cairo) in the night, and <em>Allah Kherim!</em> here we are at a town which + none of you Christians pass without stopping.’</p> + + <p>‘<em>God-dam</em>’ is very good Arabic for ‘go on;’ and ‘Ry-i-s,’ means ‘captain.’ ‘G-d d—n your + eyes!’ however thoroughly English it may seem to cockneys, is very tolerable Arabic for ‘Go on, + captain!’ (<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en avant</em>.)</p> + </blockquote> + </div> + + <div class="gossip_section"> + <p>‘<cite>A Story of Sorrow and Crime</cite>’ is an affecting monitory sketch, devoid of that mawkishness + which is sometimes the characteristic of kindred performances. The writer’s reflections + upon the career of his hero, remind us of that beautiful passage in one of <span class="special_name">Blair’s</span> + essays: ‘Life is short: the poor pittance of seventy years is worth being a villain for. + What matters it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb? Sleep you with innocence! + Look behind you through the track of time; a vast desert lies open in the retrospect; + through this desert have your fathers journeyed on, until wearied with years and sorrows, + they sunk from the walks of men. You must leave them where they fell, and you are to + go a little farther, where you will find eternal rest. Whatever you may have to encounter + between the cradle and the grave, every moment is big with innumerable events, which + come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolving and unknown cause, + fly over this orb with diversified influence.’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> ‘F. P.’s ‘<cite>Western Adventures</cite>’ have + good <em>points</em> about them, but if published entire, would we think disappoint himself perhaps + as much as his readers. Here is an anecdote, however, which is worth ‘jotting down’ in + types: ‘I met not long after in New-York a man who had just been induced to rent the + very hotel in Kentucky which was the scene of the reverses I have been describing. + Aware that I had at one time kept the establishment, he was anxious to know my opinion + of its pecuniary promise. ‘I don’t expect to make much the first year,’ said he; ‘I shall + be satisfied if I ‘realize’ all expenses. But do you think I shall clear myself the first year?’ + ‘I haven’t the slightest doubt of it,’ I replied; ‘<em>I cleared myself</em> before the first six months + were up, and was d—d <em>glad</em> to get off so; and I rather guess that <em>you’ll</em> be too, in about + half that time.’ And he was!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> Could there be a more affecting picture than that + of a fond mother learning for the first time from the tell-tale prattle of her little ones that + <a class="pagenum" id="page607" title="607"> </a>she is ‘given over to darkness and the worm’ by her friends, who had disguised from her + the fatal truth? Such is the scene depicted in these pathetic lines:</p> + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">He</span> speaketh now: ‘Oh, mother dear!’</p> + <p class="i2">Murmurs the little child:</p> + <p>And there is trouble in his eyes,</p> + <p class="i2">Those large blue eyes so mild:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Oh, mother dear! they say that soon,</p> + <p class="i2">When here I seek for thee</p> + <p>I shall not find thee—nor out there,</p> + <p class="i2">Under the old oak-tree;</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘Nor up stairs in the nursery,</p> + <p class="i2">Nor any where, they say:</p> + <p>Where wilt thou go to, mother dear?</p> + <p class="i2">Oh, do not go away!’</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>There was long silence, a deep hush,</p> + <p class="i2">And then the child’s low sob:</p> + <p><em>Her</em> quivering eyelids close: one hand</p> + <p class="i2">Keeps down the heart’s quick throb.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>And the lips move, though sound is none,</p> + <p class="i2">That inward voice is prayer.</p> + <p>And hark! ‘<span class="special_name">Thy</span> will, O <span class="special_name">Lord</span>, be done!’</p> + <p class="i2">And tears are trickling there—</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>Down that pale cheek, on that young head;</p> + <p class="i2">And round her neck he clings;</p> + <p>And child and mother murmur out</p> + <p class="i2">Unutterable things.</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p><em>He</em> half unconscious, <em>she</em> deep-struck</p> + <p class="i2">With sudden, solemn truth,</p> + <p>That number’d are her days on earth—</p> + <p class="i2">Her shroud prepared in youth:</p> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p>That all in life her heart holds dear</p> + <p class="i2"><span class="special_name">God</span> calls her to resign:</p> + <p>She hears, feels, trembles—but looks up,</p> + <p class="i2">And sighs ‘<span class="special_name">Thy</span> will be mine!’’</p> + </div> + </div> + + </div> + + <div class="gossip_section"> + <p>‘<span class="first_word">I came</span> down from Albany the other evening,’ writes a correspondent, ‘in that floating + palace, the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> steamer; I slept in your <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> state-room; arrived + in town, I took after dinner a <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> omnibus, and rode up to the ‘Westminster + Abbey Bowling Saloon,’ named of <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>; I called on you with my article for + the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution at + the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Bath; stepped into the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Theatre, and ‘laughed consumedly’ + over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup of delicious tea, green and + black, and anchovy-toast, at <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was + <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>.’ Very flattering; yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this + Magazine was the <em>pioneer</em> in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example + has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded. Such, howbeit, + is the undeniable fact. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> remarked the example of <em>catachresis</em> to which ‘L.’ + alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say, as heartily as himself. It was not quite so + glaring however as the confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: ‘I smell a rat; I see + it brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> find several things to + admire in our Detroit friend’s ‘<cite>Tale of Border Warfare</cite>;’ but he can’t ‘talk Indian’—that + is very clear. The ‘abrogynes’ are not in the habit of making interminable speeches: + they leave that to white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day’s speech + ‘for Buncombe.’ Do you remember what <span class="special_name">Halleck</span> says of <span class="special_name">Red-Jacket</span>?</p> + + + <div class="poem"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p>‘The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches</p> + <p class="i2">The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;</p> + <p>And there’s one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,</p> + <p class="i2">The secret of their mastery—<em>they are short</em>.’</p> + </div> + </div> + + <p>Not one man in a thousand can talk or write the true ‘Indian.’ Our friend <span class="special_name">Sa-go-sen-o-ta</span>, + formerly known as Col. <span class="special_name">William L. Stone</span>, is one of the best Indian writers in this + country. His late letter ‘To the Sachems, Chiefs, and Warriors of the Seneca Indians,’ + acknowledging the honor they had done him in electing him a chief, is a perfect thing in + its kind. May it be long before the ‘<span class="special_name">Master of Breath</span>’ shall call him to ‘the fair + hunting-grounds, through clouds bright as fleeces of gold, upon a ladder as beautiful as + the rainbow!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Our</span> entertaining ‘<cite>Dartmoor Prisoner</cite>’ has a pleasant story of a fellow-captive + who on one occasion performed that ‘cautionary’ experiment which is sometimes + denominated ‘putting your foot in it.’ The term is of legitimate origin, it should seem. + According to the <cite>Asiatic Researches</cite>, a very curious mode of trying the title to land is practised + in Hindostan. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in each of which the lawyers + on either side put one of their legs, and remain there until one of them is tired, or + <a class="pagenum" id="page608" title="608"> </a>complains of being stung by the insects, in which case his client is defeated. In this country + it is the client and not the lawyer who ‘puts his foot into it!’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> have commenced + in the present, and shall conclude in our next number, a ‘<cite>Legend of the Conquest of + Spain</cite>,’ by <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>. We derive it from the same source whence we received + the ‘Legend of Don <span class="special_name">Roderick</span>,’ lately published in these pages. We commend its graphic + limnings and stirring incidents to the admiration of our readers. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">A friend</span> and correspondent + in a sister city dashes in with a rich brush, in one of his familiar letters to us, + a sketch of a boss-painter, who was renovating the writer’s house with sundry pots of paint; + a conceited, half-informed prig, who having grown rich, talks of ‘going to Europe in the + steam-boat,’ and has a huge fancy for seeing Italy. ‘Yes,’ said the house-and-sign <span class="special_name">Raphael</span>, + ‘I must see Rome and Athens; them Romans allers made a great impression on me; + the land of <span class="special_name">Apelles</span> and <span class="special_name">Xerxes</span>; ah! that must be worth travelling for.’ ‘Would you + not rather run over England?’ I asked; but the ass <em>poohed</em> at England, and on the strength + of his daubing our house-blinds, claimed an interest in the Fine Arts abroad: ‘No, Sir, + give me Italy—the Loover and the Vattykin; them’s the places for my money! Gods! + how I should like to rummage over them old-masters! They beat <em>us</em> all hollow—that’s + a fact. I’ll give in to them. There never was such painters before, nor never will be. + I want to study ’em.’ ‘Yes,’ I rejoined; ‘’twould interest you, doubtless; and after + having studied the great painters in Italy, you might return by way of Switzerland, and + scrape acquaintance with the <em>glaciers</em>.’ The booby did not <em>take</em>, but only stared and said: + ‘Oh, they’re famous for glass-work there, be they?’ This lover of the Fine Arts had a + counterpart in the man who having ‘made as much money as he wanted by tradin’ in + Boston,’ went ‘a-travelling abroad;’ and while in Florence, called on <span class="special_name">Powers</span> the sculptor, + with a design to ‘patronize’ him a little. After looking at his ‘Greek Slave,’ his ‘Eve,’ and + other gems of art, he remarked that he ‘thought they’d look a good ’eal better if they had + some clothes on. I’m pretty well off,’ he continued, ‘and ha’n’t a chick nor child in the + world; and I thought I’d price a <em>statty</em> or two. What’s the damage, now, for that one + you’re peckin’ at?’ ‘It should be worth from four to five thousand dollars, I think,’ answered + <span class="special_name">Powers</span>. ‘What! five thousand dollars for <em>that ’are</em>! I cal’lated to buy me a + piece of <em>stattyary</em> before I went home, but <em>that’s</em> out of the question! <em>Hasn’t stattyary riz + lately?</em> How’s paintin’s here now?’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Just</span> complaints are made by our city contemporaries + of the exorbitant rates of postage upon weekly periodicals. Mr. <span class="special_name">Willis</span> complains, + in the ‘<cite>New-Mirror</cite>’ weekly journal, that country postmasters charge so much + postage on that periodical by mail, that in many cases it would make the work cost to its + country subscribers something like ten dollars a year! All postage in this country is at + too high a rate; and so long as it remains so, the law will continue to be evaded. ‘Cheating + <span class="special_name">Uncle Sam</span>’ is not considered a very heinous offence. There is nothing one robs with so + little compunction as one’s country. It is at the very worst robbing only eighteen millions of + people. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> lines sent us in rejoinder to the stanzas of ‘C. W. D.,’ in a late issue, + would not be <em>original</em> in our pages; nor could we hope to have many <em>new</em> readers for them, + after they have appeared in, and of course been copied from, that exceedingly pleasant + and well-edited daily journal, the <cite>Boston Evening Transcript</cite>. <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">Hauffman</span>, the German + poet, was recently expelled from the Prussian dominions, and all his works proscribed + thenceforth. ‘Served him right;’ for in one of his works appears the ‘word following, to + wit:’ ‘<em>Sleuerverweigerungsverfassungsmassigberechtig</em>!’—meaning a man who is exempt + by the constitution from the payment of taxes. ‘Myscheeves thick’ must needs follow + such terrific words. ‘We have heard,’ says a London critic, in allusion to this jaw-breaker, + ‘of a gentleman, a member of the <em>Marionettenschauspielhausengesellschaft</em>, who was said to + be an excellent performer on the ‘<em>Constantinopolitanischetudelsackpfeife</em>!’’ <span class="ed_table_break">•••</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> owe + a word of apology to our friends the publishers, for the omission of notices which we + had prepared of their publications, and which are crowded out by our title-page and index, + that were forgotten until the last moment. We shall ‘bring up arrears’ in our next.</p> + </div> + + </div> +</div> + + +<div id="footnotes"> + <h2 class="title">Footnotes</h2> + <ol class="fnlist"> + <li> + <p id="footnote_1"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm1">Return to text</a></span><span class="special_name">Stephen B. Wilson</span>, Esq.</p> + </li> + <li> + <p id="footnote_2"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm2">Return to text</a></span>A new public library and reading-room in Berlin.</p> + + </li> + </ol> +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly +Magazine, June 1844, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER *** + +***** This file should be named 25475-h.htm or 25475-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/4/7/25475/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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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