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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31085-8.txt b/31085-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f916a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/31085-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10695 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, February, 1877, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, February, 1877 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 26, 2010 [EBook #31085] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + +THE GALAXY. + +VOL. XXIII.--FEBRUARY, 1877.--No. 2. + + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by SHELDON & +CO., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + +ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. + + +The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress, from its commencement +to its close, tested the strength of the Government and the capability +of those who administered it. Disappointment, in consequence of no +decisive military success during the first few months of the war, had +caused a generally depressed feeling which begot discontent and distrust +that in various ways found expression in Congress. Democrats complained +more of the incapacity of the Executive than of the inefficiency of the +generals, and the entire Administration was censured and denounced by +them for acts which, if not strictly legal and constitutional in peace, +were necessary and unavoidable in war. Republicans, on the other hand, +were dissatisfied because so little was accomplished, and the factious +imputed military delay to mismanagement and want of energy in the +Administration. Indeed, but for some redeeming naval successes at +Hatteras and Port Royal preceding the meeting of Congress in December, +the whole belligerent operations would have been pronounced weak and +imbecile failures. Conflicting views in regard to the slavery question +in all its aspects prevailed; the Democrats insisting that fugitives +should be returned to their masters under the provisions of law, as in +time of peace. The Republicans were divided on this question, one +portion agreeing with the Democrats that all should be returned, +another claiming that only escaped slaves who belonged to loyal owners, +wherever they resided, should be returned; another portion insisted that +there should be no rendition of servants of rebel masters, even in loyal +or border States, who, by resisting the laws and setting the authorities +at defiance, had forfeited their rights and all Governmental protection. +Questions in regard to the treatment of captured rebels, and the +confiscation of all property of rebels, were agitated. What was the +actual condition of the seceding States, and what would be their status +when the rebellion should be suppressed, were also beginning to be +controverted points, especially among members of Congress. On these and +other questions which the insurrection raised, novel, perplexing, and +without law or precedent to guide or govern it, the Administration had +developed no well defined policy when Congress convened in December, +1861, but it was compelled to act, and that in such a manner as not to +alienate friends or give unnecessary offence, while maintaining the +Government in all its Federal authority and rights for the preservation +of the Union and the suppression of the rebellion. + +The character and duration of the war, which many had supposed would be +brief, was still undetermined. While affairs were in this uncertain and +inchoate condition, and the Administration had no declared policy on +some of the most important questions, Congress came together fired with +indignation and revenge for a war so causeless and unprovoked. A large +portion of the members, exasperated toward the rebels by reason of the +war, and dissatisfied with delays and procrastination, which they +imputed chiefly to the Administration, were determined there should be +prompt and aggressive action against the persons, property, +institutions, and the States which had confederated to break up the +Union. There was, however, little unity among the complaining members as +to the mode and method of prosecuting the war. It was not difficult to +find fault with the Administration, but it was not easy for the +discontented to settle on any satisfactory plan of continuing it. The +Democrats complained that the President transcended his rightful +authority; the radical portion of the Republicans that he was not +sufficiently aggressive; that he was deficient in energy and too tender +of the rebels. It was at this period, after Congress had been in session +two months, and opinions were earnest but diverse and factious, with a +progeny of crude and mischievous schemes as to the conduct of affairs +and the treatment of the rebels, that Senator Sumner, in the absence of +a clearly defined policy on the part of the Administration, and while +things were not sufficiently matured to adopt one, submitted his project +for overthrowing the State governments and reducing them to a +territorial condition, and with the subversion of their governments the +abolition of slavery. It was the enunciation of a policy that was in +conflict with the Constitution, and would change the character of the +Government, but which he intended to force upon the Administration. +Though a scheme devised by himself, it had in its main features the +countenance of many and some able supporters. + +President Lincoln had high respect for Mr. Sumner, but was excessively +annoyed with this presentation of the extreme, and, as he considered +them, unconstitutional and visionary theories of the Massachusetts +Senator, which were intended to commit the Government and shape its +course. It was precipitating upon the Administration issues on delicate +and deeply important subjects at a critical period--issues involving the +structure of the Government and the stability of our Federal system. +These questions might have to be ultimately met and disposed of, but it +was requisite that they should be met with caution and deliberate +consideration. The times and condition of the country were inauspicious +for considerate statesmanship. The matters in dispute, the consequences +and results of the war, were yet in embryo. There could be no union of +sentiment on Senator Sumner's plan, nor any other at that period, in the +free States, in Congress, or even in the Republican party. There were +half a dozen factions to be reconciled or persuaded to act together. +This plan was felt to be an element of discord, which, if it could not +be finally averted, might in that gloomy period, when the country was +threatened and divided, have been temporarily, at least, avoided. But +Senator Sumner, though scholarly and cultured, was not always judicious +or wisely discreet. The President, as he expressed himself, could not, +in the then condition of affairs, afford to have a controversy with +Sumner, but he so managed as to check violent and aggressive demands by +quietly interposing delay and non-action. + +In the mean time, while the subjects of slavery, reconstruction, and +confiscation were being vehemently discussed, he felt the necessity of +adopting, or at least proposing, some measure to satisfy public +sentiment. + +On the subject of confiscation there were differing opinions among the +Republicans themselves, in Congress, which called out earnest debate. +The Radicals, such as Thaddeus Stevens, who were in fact revolutionists +and intended that more should be accomplished by the Government than the +suppression of the rebellion and the preservation of the Union, were for +the immediate and unsparing confiscation of the property of the rebels +by act of Congress without awaiting judicial proceedings. In their view +and by their plan rebels, if not outlaws, were to be considered and +treated as foreigners, not as American citizens; the States in +insurrection were to be reduced to the condition of provinces; the +people were to be subjugated and their property taken to defray the +expenses of the war. Mr. Sumner, less crafty and calculating than +Stevens, but ardent and impulsive, was for proceeding to extreme +lengths; and, having the power, he urged that they should embrace "the +opportunity which God in his beneficence had offered" to extinguish by +arbitrary enactment slavery, and all claim to reserved sovereignty in +the States; but Judge Collamer, calm and considerate, and other milder +men were opposed to any illegal and unjustifiable enactment. + +As is too often the case in high party and revolutionary times, the +violent and intriguing were likely to be successful, until it came to be +understood that the President would feel it obligatory to place upon the +extreme and unconstitutional measures his veto. A knowledge of this and +the attending fact, that his veto would be sustained, induced Congress +to pass a joint resolution, modifying the act, expounding and declaring +its meaning, instead of enacting a new and explicit law, which the +judiciary, whose province it is, would expound and construe. + +The President, in order not to be misunderstood when informing the House +of Representatives that he had affixed his signature to the bill and +joint resolution, also transmitted a copy of the message he had prepared +to veto the act in its original shape, with his objections, in which he +said that by a fair construction of the act he considered persons "are +not punished without regular trials, in duly constituted courts, under +the forms and the substantial provisions of the law and the Constitution +applicable to their several cases." It was apprehended at that time, and +subsequent acts proved the apprehension well founded, that Congress or +its radical leaders were disposed to assume and exercise not only +legislative, but judicial and executive powers. Rebels were by Congress +to be condemned and their property confiscated and taken without trial +and conviction. Such was not the policy of the President, as was soon +well understood; and to reconcile him and those who agreed with him, a +provision was inserted that persons who should commit treason and be +"_adjudged guilty thereof_" should be punished. But to prevent +misconception from equivocal phraseology in a somewhat questionable act, +he explicitly made known that "regular trials in duly constituted +courts" were to be observed, and the rights of the executive and +judicial departments of the Government maintained. This precaution, and +the determination which he uniformly expressed to regard individual +rights, and not to impose penalty or inflict punishment for alleged +crimes, whether of treason or felony, until after trial and conviction, +was not satisfactory to the extremists, who were ready to treat rebels +as outlaws, and condemn them without judge or jury. + +The Centralists in Congress, who were arrogating executive and judicial +as well as legislative power, authorized the President, by special +provision in this law, to extend pardon and amnesty on such occasions as +he might deem expedient. This was represented as special grace and a +great concession; but as the pardoning power is explicitly conferred on +the President by the Constitution, the permission or authorization given +by the act was entirely supererogatory. Congress could neither enlarge +nor diminish the authority of the Executive in that respect; but if the +President acquiesced, and admitted the right of the legislative body to +grant, it was evident the day was not distant that the same body, when +dissatisfied with his leniency, would claim the right to restrain or +prohibit. The ulterior design in this grant to the President of +authority which he already possessed, and of which they could not +legally deprive him, President Lincoln well understood, but felt it to +be his duty and it was his policy to have as little controversy with +Congress or any of the factions in that body as was possible, and he +therefore wisely forebore contention. + +On the slavery question, the alleged cause of secession and war, there +were legal and perplexing difficulties which, in various ways, +embarrassed the Administration, and in the disturbed condition of the +country prevented, for a time, the establishment and enforcement of any +decisive policy. By the Constitution and laws, slavery and property in +slaves were recognized, and the surrender and rendition of fugitives +from service to their owners was commanded; but in a majority of the +seceding States the usurping governments and the rebel slave-owners were +in open insurrection, resisting the Federal authority, defying it and +making war upon it. Still there were many citizens in those States who +were opposed to secession, loyal to the Federal Government, and earnest +friends of the Union, who owned slaves. What policy could the +Administration adopt in regard to these two classes of citizens in the +same State? The fugitive slave law was not and could not be enforced in +States where there was organized rebellion. Should fugitive slaves be +returned to both, or either, or neither of the owners in insurrectionary +States? There were moreover five or six border States, where slavery +existed, which did not secede. The governments and a majority of the +people of those States were patriotic supporters of the Union, but there +was a large minority in each of them who were violent enemies of the +Government and of the Union. Many of them were serving in the rebel +armies. For a time there was no alternative but to return slaves to +their owners who resided in border States which had neither seceded nor +resisted the Government. The Administration was not authorized to +discriminate, for instance, between slave-owners on the eastern shore of +the Potomac in the lower counties of Maryland and those on the western +shore in Virginia. There were, however, no secessionists, through the +whole South, more malignantly hostile to the Federal Union than a large +portion of the slave-owners in the southern counties of Maryland; but +the State not having seceded, and there being no organized resistance to +the Government, masters who justified secession continued to reclaim +their slaves, while on the opposite side of the river, in Virginia, +slave-owners who claimed to be loyal or neutral, could not reclaim or +obtain a restoration of their escaped servants. The Executive was +compelled to act in each of these cases, and its policy, the dictate of +necessity in the peculiar war that existed, was denounced by each of the +disagreeing factions. Affairs were in this unsettled and broken +condition when Congress convened at its second session in December, +1861. The action of the President in these conflicting cases as they +arose, if not condemned, was not fully approved. Many, if not a +majority, in Congress were undetermined what course to take. Democrats +insisted that the laws must be obeyed in all cases, in war as in peace. +The radical portion of the Republicans began to take extreme opposite +grounds, and claim that the laws were inoperative in regard to +slavery--that slavery was at all times inconsistent with a republican +government, and should now be extinguished. Among the revolutionary +resolutions of Senator Sumner of the 11th of February were some on the +subject of slavery. Other but not dissimilar propositions, antagonistic +to slavery, found expression, increasing in intensity as the war was +prolonged. While it was evident to most persons that one of the results +of the insurrection would be, in some way or form, the emancipation of +the slaves, there was no person who seemed capable of devising a +constitutional, practical plan for its accomplishment, except by +subjugation and violence. To these the President was unwilling to +resort; yet the necessity of doing something that did not transcend the +law, was morally right, and would tend to the ultimate freedom of the +slaves was felt to be an essential and indispensable duty. Unavailing +but seductive appeals continued in the mean time to be made by the +secessionists to the people of the border slave States to unite with the +further South for the security and protection of slavery, in which they +had a common interest, and against which there was increasing hostility +through the North. It was under these circumstances, with a large and +growing portion of the North in favor of abolition--the slave States, +including the border States, opposed to the measure and for the +preservation of the institution--that the President was to prescribe a +policy on which the government in the disordered state of the country +was to be administered. + +To surmount the difficulties, without setting aside the law, or giving +just offence to any, the President, with his accustomed prudence and +regard for existing legal rights, devised a course which, if acquiesced +in by those most in interest, would, he believed, in a legal way open +the road to ultimate, if not immediate, emancipation. Instead of +assenting to the demands of the radical extremists that he should, by +arbitrary proceedings, and in disregard of law and Constitution, decree +freedom to all slaves, he preferred milder and more conciliatory +measures. The authority or right of the national Government to abolish +or interfere with an institution that was reserved and belonged +exclusively to the States, he was not prepared to act upon or admit, +though entreated and urged thereto by sincere party friends, and also by +party supporters, whose sincerity was doubtful. + +There could be no excuse or pretext for such interference but the +insurrection; and, even as a war measure, there were obstacles in the +condition of the border slave States, to say nothing of loyal, patriotic +citizens in the insurrectionary region, that could not be overlooked. + +On the 6th of March, within less than three weeks after Senator Sumner +had submitted his revolutionary resolution, for reconstruction, and a +declaration that it is the duty of Congress "to see that everywhere in +this extensive (secession) territory slavery shall cease to exist +practically, as it has already ceased to exist constitutionally or +morally," that President Lincoln, not assenting to the assumption, sent +a message to Congress proposing a plan of voluntary and compensated +emancipation. In this message he suggested that "the United States ought +to co-operate with any State which may adopt gradual abolishment of +slavery, giving to each State pecuniary aid," etc., and he invited an +interview upon the 10th of March, with the representatives of the border +States, to consider the subject. They did not conclude at this interview +to adopt his suggestions, and some of them were much incensed that the +proposition had been made, believing it would alienate and drive many, +hitherto rightly disposed, into secession. + +Nevertheless, the fact that slavery was doomed, and had received a death +blow from the war of secession, was so obvious, that the moderate and +reflecting began seriously to consider whether they ought not to give +the President's plan favorable consideration. + +While the policy of voluntary emancipation, in which the States should +be aided by the national Government, was not immediately successful, it +made such advance as, by the aid of the Federal Government, led to the +abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. The advocates of +immediate, general, and forcible emancipation, if not satisfied with the +conciliatory policy of the President, could not well oppose it. + +Warm discussions in Congress, and altercations out of it, on most of the +important questions growing out of the war, and particularly on those of +confiscation, emancipation, and reconstruction, or the restoration of +the States to their rightful position, and the reëstablishment of the +Union, were had during the whole of the second session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress. All of these were exciting and important +questions, the last involving grave principles affecting our federal +system, and was most momentous in its consequences. As time and events +passed on, the convictions and conclusions of the President became more +clear and distinct as to the line of policy which it was his duty and +that of the Administration to pursue. + +Dissenting, wholly and absolutely, from the revolutionary views and +schemes of Senator Sumner and those who agreed with him, the President +became convinced, as the subject had been prematurely introduced and +agitated, with an evident intent to forestall and shape the action of +the Government, that the actual status of the rebel States and their +true relation to the Federal Government should be distinctly understood. +The resolution of Mr. Dixon, a gentleman of culture and intelligence, +who, as well as Mr. Sumner, was a New England Senator, and also of the +same party, was, it will be observed, diametrically opposed to the +principles and the project of the Massachusetts Senator on the great, +impending, and forthcoming subject of reconstruction. It was directly +known that the President coincided with the Connecticut Senator in the +opinion that all the acts and ordinances of secession were mere +nullities, and should be so treated; that while such acts might subject +_individuals_ to penalties and forfeitures, they did not in any degree +affect the _States_ as commonwealths, and their relations to the Federal +Government; that such acts were rebellious, insurrectionary, and hostile +on the part of the _persons_ engaged in them, but that the _States_, +notwithstanding the acts and conspiracies of individuals, were still +members of the Federal Union, and that the loyal citizens of these +States had forfeited none of their rights, but were entitled to all the +protection and privileges guaranteed by the Constitution. + +The theory and principles set forth in Senator Dixon's resolutions were +the opinions and convictions of the President, deliberately formed and +consistently maintained while he lived, on the subject of reconstruction +and the condition of the States and people in the insurrectionary +region. In his view there was no actual secession, no dismembering of +the Union, no change in the Constitution and Government; the relative +position of the States and the Federal Government were unchanged; the +organic, fundamental laws of neither were altered by the sectional +conspiracy; the whole people, North and South, were American citizens; +each person was responsible for his own acts and amenable to law; and he +was also entitled to the protection of the law, and the rights and +privileges secured by the Constitution. The confiscation and +emancipation schemes concerning which there was so much excitement in +Congress were of secondary consideration to the all-absorbing one of +preserving the Union. + +The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress closed on the 17th of +July. Its proceedings had been confused and uneasy, with a good deal of +discontented and revolutionary feeling, which increased toward the +close. The decisive stand which the President had taken, and which he +calmly, firmly, and persistently maintained against the extreme measures +of some of the most prominent Republicans in Congress, was +unsatisfactory. It was insinuated that his sympathies on important +measures had more of a Democratic than Republican tendency; yet the +Democratic party maintained an organized and often unreasonable, if not +unpatriotic, opposition. + +Military operations, aside from naval success at New Orleans and on the +upper Mississippi, had been a succession of military reverses. +Disagreement between the Secretary of War and the General-in-Chief, +which the President could not reconcile, caused the latter to be +superseded after the disastrous result before Richmond. Dissensions in +the army and among the Republicans in Congress, the persistent +opposition of Democrats to the Administration, and the general +depression that prevailed were discouraging. "In my position," said the +President, "I am environed with difficulties." Friends on whom he felt +he ought to be able to rely were dissatisfied with his conscientious +scruples and lenity, and party opponents were unrelenting against the +Administration. + +A few days before Congress adjourned, the President made another but +unsuccessful effort to dispose of the slavery question, by trying to +induce the border States to take the initiative in his plan of +compensated emancipation. The interview between him and the +representatives of the border States, which took place on the 12th of +July, convinced him that the project of voluntary emancipation by the +States would not succeed. Were it commenced by one or more of the +States, he had little doubt it would be followed by others, and +eventuate in general emancipation by the States themselves. Failing in +the voluntary plan, he was compelled, as a war necessity, to proclaim +freedom to all slaves in the rebel section, if the war continued to be +prosecuted after a certain date. This bold and almost revolutionary +measure, which would change the industrial character of many States, +could be justified on no other ground than as a war measure, the result +of military necessity. It was an unexpected and startling demonstration +when announced, that was welcomed by a vast majority of the people in +the free States. In Congress, however, neither this nor his project of +compensated emancipation was entirely acceptable to either the extreme +anti-slavery or pro-slavery men. The radicals disliked the way in which +emancipation was effected by the President. But, carried forward by the +force of public opinion, they could not do otherwise than acquiesce in +the decree, complaining, however, that it was an unauthorized assumption +by the Executive of power which belonged to Congress. + +The opponents of the President seized the occasion of this bold measure +to create distrust and alarm, and the result of the policy of +emancipation in the election which followed in the autumn of 1862 was +adverse to the Administration. Confident, however, that the step was +justifiable and necessary, the President persevered and consummated it +by a final proclamation on the 1st of January, 1863. + +The fact that the Administration lost ground in the elections in +consequence of the emancipation policy served for a time to promote +unity of feeling among the members when Congress convened in December. +The shock occasioned by the measure when first announced had done its +work. The timid, who had doubted the necessity and legality of the act, +and feared its consequences, recovered their equipoise, and a reaction +followed which strengthened the President in public confidence. But the +radical extremists, especially the advocates of Congressional supremacy, +began in the course of the winter to reassert their own peculiar ideas +and their intention of having a more extreme policy pursued by the +Government. + +Thaddeus Stevens embraced an early opportunity to declare his extreme +views, which were radically and totally antagonistic to those of the +President. But Stevens, whose ability and acquirements as a politician, +and whose skill and experience as a party tactician were unsurpassed if +not unequalled in either branch of Congress, made no open, hostile +demonstration toward the President. He restricted himself to +contemptuous expressions in private conversation against the Executive +policy and general management of affairs. Without an attack on the +President, whom he personally liked, the Administration was sneered at +as weak and inefficient, of which little could be expected until a more +aggressive and scathing policy was adopted. His personal intercourse +with members and his talents and eloquence on the floor of the House +gave him influence with the representatives on ordinary occasions, but +his ultra radical and revolutionary ideas caused the calm and +considerate to distrust and disclaim his opinions and his leadership. It +was not until a later period, and under another Executive, less affable +but not less honest and sincere than Mr. Lincoln, that the suggestions +of Stevens were much regarded. When his disciples and adherents became +more partisan and numerous, they, in order to give him power and +consequence and reconcile their constituents, denominated him the "Great +Commoner." + +If his political hopes and party schemes had been sometimes successful, +his reverses and disappointments had been much greater. Many and severe +trials during an active, embittered, and often unscrupulous partisan +experience, had tempered his enthusiasm if they had not brought him +wisdom. Defeats can hardly be said to have made him misanthropic; but +having little philosophy in his composition, he vented his spleen when +there was occasion on his opponents in ironical remarks that made him +dreaded, and which were often more effective than arguments; but his +sagacity and knowledge of men taught him that a hostile and open +conflict with a chief magistrate whose honesty even he respected, and +whose patriotism the people so generally regarded, would be not only +unavailing, but to himself positively injurious. He therefore conformed +to circumstances; and while opposed to the tolerant policy of the +Administration toward the rebels and the rebel States, he had the tact +and address, with his wit and humor, to preserve pleasant social +intercourse and friendly personal relations with the President, who well +understood his traits and purpose, but avoided any conflict with him. + +For the first five or six weeks of the third session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress, Stevens improved his time in free and sarcastic +remarks on the reconstruction policy of the Government, which he +characterized as puerile and feeble, and at length, on the 8th of +January, he gave utterance to his feelings, maintaining that "with +regard to all the Southern States in rebellion, the Constitution has no +binding influence or application." He averred that "in his opinion they +were not members of the Union"; that "the ordinances of secession took +them out of the Union"; that he "would levy a tax wherever he could upon +these conquered provinces"; said he "would not only collect the tax, but +he would, as a necessary war measure, take every particle of property, +real and personal, life estate and reversion, of every disloyal man, and +sell it for the benefit of the nation in carrying on this war." + +Several members of Congress hastened to deny that these sentiments and +purposes were those of the Republican party; this Mr. Stevens admitted. +He said "a very mild denial from the pleasant gentleman from New York +[Mr. Olin], and the somewhat softened and modified repudiation of the +gentleman from Indiana" (Mr. Colfax), would, he hoped, satisfy the +sensitive gentlemen in regard to him, and he "desired to say he did not +speak the sentiments of this side of the House _as a party_."; that +"for the last fifteen years he [Stevens] had always been ahead of the +party in these matters, but he had never been so far ahead but that the +members of the party had overtaken and gone ahead; and they would again +overtake him and go with him before the infamous and bloody rebellion +was ended." "They will find that they must treat those States, now +outside of the Union, as conquered provinces, and settle them with new +men, and drive the present rebels as exiles from this country." "Nothing +but extermination, or exile, or starvation, will ever induce them to +surrender to the Government." + +Not very consistent or logical in his policy and views, this +subsequently Radical leader proposed to treat the Southern people +sometimes as foreigners and at other times as rebel citizens; in either +case he would tax, starve, and exile them--make provinces of their +States, and overturn their old established governments. Few, +comparatively, of the Republicans were at that time prepared to follow +Stevens or adopt his vindictive and arbitrary measures. Shocked at his +propositions, the "Great Commoner" had at that day few acknowledged +adherents. When in vindication of his scheme it was asked upon what +ground the collection of taxes could be enforced in the Southern States, +Judge Thomas, one of the ablest and clearest minds of the Massachusetts +delegation, said, "Upon this ground, that the authority of this +Government at this time is as valid over those States as it was before +the acts of secession were passed; upon the ground that every act of +secession passed by those States is utterly null and void; upon the +ground that every act legally null and void cannot acquire force because +armed rebellion is behind it, seeking to uphold it; upon the ground that +the Constitution makes us not a mere confederacy, but a _nation_; upon +the ground that the provisions of that Constitution strike through the +State government and reach directly, not intermediately, the subjects. +Subjects of whom? Of the nation--of the United States." "Who ever heard, +as a matter of public law, that the authority of a government over its +rebellious subjects was lost until that revolution was successful--was a +fact accomplished?" + +Shortly after the capture of New Orleans and the establishment of +Federal authority over Louisiana, two of the Congressional districts of +that State elected representatives to Congress. The admission or +non-admission of these representatives involved the question of the +political condition of the Southern States and people in the Federal +Union, and the whole principle, in fact, of restoration and +reconstruction. + +The subject was long and deliberately considered and fully discussed in +Congress. The committee on elections reported in favor of their +admission, and Mr. Dawes of Massachusetts, the chairman, stated that +"more than ordinary importance is attached to the consideration of this +subject. It is not simply whether two gentlemen shall be permitted to +occupy seats in this House. The question whether they shall be admitted +involves the principles touching the present state of the country to +which the attention of the House has more than once been called." He +said, "The question now comes up, whether any reason exists that +requires any departure from the rules and principles which have been +adopted." "An adherence to these principles is vitally important in +settling the question, how there is to be a restoration of this Union +when this war shall be drawn to a close." + +The subject of admitting these representatives and the principles of a +restoration of the Union which their admission involved, was debated +with earnestness for several days, and finally decided, on the 17th of +February, in favor of admitting them, by a vote of ninety-two in the +affirmative to forty-four in the negative. + +An analysis of this vote, in view of the proceedings, acts, and votes +of many of the same members a few years subsequently, after Mr. +Lincoln's death, presents some curious and interesting facts. It was not +a strictly party vote. Among those who then favored the Administration +policy of restoration were Colfax, Dawes, Delano, Fenton, Fisher of +Delaware, Wm, Kellogg, J. S. Morrill of Vermont, Governor A. H. Rice of +Massachusetts, Shellabarger, and others who opposed the restoration +policy of President Lincoln after his death and the accession of +President Johnson. + +In the negative with Thaddeus Stevens were Ashley, Bingham, the two +Conklings, Kelley, McPherson, and a few others. But when reconstruction +or exclusion actually took place after the termination of the war, great +changes occurred among the members of Congress, and Stevens, the "Great +Commoner," who in 1863 had a following of less than one-third of the +representatives, rallied, four years later, more than two-thirds to his +standard against restoration and for subjugation and exclusion. + +Mr. Stevens was no ordinary man. At the bar he was astute and eloquent +rather than profound, but in the Legislature of Pennsylvania and in the +management of the affairs of that State, where for a period he actively +participated and was a ruling mind, he was often rash and turbulent, and +had, not without cause, the reputation of being a not over scrupulous +politician. Personally my relations with him, though not intimate, were +pleasant and friendly. I was first introduced to him at Harrisburg in +1836, when he was a member of the convention that revised the +Constitution of Pennsylvania. We occasionally met in after years. He +expressed himself pleased with my appointment in Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet, +and, notwithstanding we disagreed on fundamental principles, he +complimented my administration of the Navy Department, and openly and +always sustained my positions, and particularly so on the subject of the +blockade, on which there were differences in the Administration. In the +Pennsylvania convention of 1836 he was probably the most eloquent +speaker, but his ideas were often visionary and radical. He ultimately +refused to sign the Constitution because the colored people were denied +the elective franchise. Severe as he exhibited himself toward the rebels +during and subsequent to the civil war, Mr. Stevens was not by nature, +as might be supposed, inhuman in his feelings and sympathies toward his +fellow men. To the colored race he seemed always more attached and +tender than to the whites, perhaps because they were enslaved and +oppressed. He was opposed to slavery, to imprisonment for debt, and to +capital punishment. There were strange contradictions in his character. +In his political career he had ardent supporters, though many who voted +with him had not a high regard for his principles. His course and +conduct in the Legislature and government of Pennsylvania did much to +debauch the political morals of that State, and in the celebrated +"buck-shot war" he displayed the bold and reckless disregard of justice +and popular rights that distinguished the latter years of his +Congressional life, when he became the acknowledged leader of the +radical reconstruction party in Congress. + +In his political career and management, though strongly sustained by a +local constituency, he had experienced a series of disappointments. The +defeat of John Quincy Adams, whom he greatly admired, in 1828, and the +election of General Jackson, against whom his prejudices were +inveterate, were to him early and grievous vexations. + +The attempt of Mr. Adams on his retirement to establish a national +anti-Masonic party was warmly seconded by Stevens, and with greater +success in Pennsylvania than attended his distinguished leader in +Massachusetts. The failure of the attempt was more severely felt by the +disciple than by the master. After the annihilation of the anti-Masonic +organization and the discomfiture of the buck-shot war, Stevens was +less conspicuous, though prominent for a few months in 1840, when he +came forward as an earnest advocate of the nomination of General +Harrison in that singular campaign which resulted in the General's +election. His efficiency and zeal in behalf of both the nomination and +election of the "hero of Tippecanoe" were acknowledged, and he and his +friends anticipated they would be recognized and he rewarded by a seat +in the Cabinet. But he had given offence to the great Whig leader of +that day by his preference of Harrison for President, and had moreover +an unsavory reputation, which, with the declared opposition of Clay and +Webster, caused his exclusion. It was a sore disappointment, from which +he never fully recovered. Eight years later, with the advent of General +Taylor and the defeated aspirations of the Whig leaders, who had caused +his exclusion from Harrison's Cabinet, he sought and obtained an +election to the thirty-first Congress from the Lancaster district. In +1856 he strove with all his power to secure the Presidential nomination +for John McLane of the Supreme Court, who had or professed to have had +anti-Masonic tendencies. His ill success was another disappointment; but +in 1859 he was again elected to Congress, and thereafter until his death +he represented the Lancaster district. + +Disappointments had made him splenetic, but he was not, as represented +by his opponents on the two extremes, either a charlatan or a miscreant, +though possibly not wholly exempt from charges against him in either +respect. In many of his ultra radical and it may be truly said +revolutionary views--revolutionary because they changed the structure of +the Government--he coincided with Senator Sumner, who was perhaps the +leading spirit in the Senate on the subject of reconstruction, but he +did not, like the Massachusetts Senator, make any pretence that his +project to subjugate the Southern people and reduce their States to the +condition of provinces was constitutional, or by authority of the +Declaration of Independence. President Lincoln well understood the +characteristics of both these men, and, though differing from each on +the subject of restoration and reconstruction, he managed to preserve +friendly personal relations with both--retained their confidence, and +while he lived secured their general support of his Administration. +Herein President Lincoln exhibited those peculiar qualities and +attributes of mind which made him a leader and manager of men, and +enabled him in a quiet and unostentatious way to exercise his executive +ability in administering the Government during the most troublesome +period of our national history. + + GIDEON WELLES. + + + + +ART'S LIMITATIONS. + + + This rich, rank Age--does it breed giants now-- + Dantes or Michaels, Raphaels, Shakespeares? Nay! + Its culture is of other sort to-day. + From the stanch stem (too ready to allow + Growths that divide the strength that should endow + The one tall trunk) who firmly lops away, + With wise reserve, such shoots as lead astray + The wasted sap to some collateral bough? + + Had Dante chiselled stone, had Angelo + Intrigued with courts, had Shakespeare dulled his pen + With critic gauge of Chaucer, Drummond, Ben-- + What lack there were of that life-giving shade, + Which these high-tower'd, centurial oaks have made, + Where walk the happy nations to and fro! + + MARGARET J. PRESTON. + + + + +APPLIED SCIENCE. + +A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS. + + +CHAPTER II. + +CONCLUSION. + +The events of the last chapter happened on the night of Friday, July 17, +1874. The following day, Saturday, broke calm, clear, and warm. Elmer +awoke early, carefully looked out of a crack in his window curtain, and +found that the chimney-builder's room was empty. + +"The enemy has flown. I wonder if Alma is up?" + +He uncovered a small telegraphic armature and sounder standing on the +window-seat, and touched it gently. In an instant there was a response, +and Alma replied that she was up and dressed and would soon be down. + +She met him in the library, smiling, and apparently happy. + +"Oh, Elmer, he has gone away. He left a note on the breakfast table, +saying that he had gone to New York, and that he should not return till +Monday or Tuesday." + +"That's very good; but I think it means mischief." + +Just here the breakfast bell rang. The table was set for four, but Alma +and Elmer were the only ones who could answer the call, and they sat +down to the table alone. They talked of various matters of little +consequence, and when the meal was over Elmer announced that as the day +was quiet, he should make a little photographing expedition about the +neighborhood. + +"My visit here is now more than a quarter over, and I wish to take home +some photos of the place. Will you not go with me?" + +"With all my heart, if I can leave father. But please not talk of going +home yet. I hope you will not go till things are settled. We want you, +Elmer. You are so wise and strong, and--you know what I mean." + +"Perhaps I do. At any rate I'm not going till I have paid up that +Belford for his insults." + +"Oh, let's not talk of him to-day." + +This was eminently wise. They had better enjoy the day of peace that was +before them. The shadow of the coming events already darkened their +lives, though they knew it not. Mr. Denny was so much better that he +could spare Alma, and about ten o'clock she appeared, paper umbrella in +hand, at the porch, and Elmer soon joined her bearing a small camera, +and a light wooden tripod for its support. + +The two spent the morning happily in each other's company, and at one +o'clock returned to dinner with quite a number of negatives of various +objects of interest about the place. After dinner the young man +retreated to his room to prepare for the battle that he felt sure would +rage on the following Monday. + +He did not know all the circumstances of the trouble that had invaded +the family, but he felt sure that the confidential clerk intended some +terrible shame or exposure that in some way concerned his cousin Alma. +So it was he came to call himself her Lohengrin, come to fight her +battles, not with a sword, but with the telegraph, the camera, and the +micro-lantern. + +The Sabbath passed quietly, and the Monday came. After breakfast the +student retreated to his room and tried to study, but could not. + +About ten o'clock he heard a carriage of some kind stop before the +house. His room being at the rear, he could not see who had come, and +thinking that it might be merely some stray visitor, and that at least +it did not concern him, he turned to his books and made another attempt +to read. + +After some slight delay he heard the carriage drive away, and the old +house became very still. Then he heard a door open down stairs, and a +moment after one of the maids knocked at his door. + +"Would Mr. Franklin kindly come down stairs? Mr. Denny wished to see him +in the library." + +He would come at once; and picking up a number of unmounted photographs +from the table, he prepared to go down stairs. He hardly knew why he +should take the pictures just then. There seemed no special reason why +he should show them to Mr. Denny; still, an indefinite feeling urged him +to take them with him. + +The library was a small room, dark, with heavy book shelves against the +walls, and crowded with tables, desk, and easy chairs. There was a +student lamp on the centre table, and in a corner stood a large iron +safe. Mr. Denny was seated at the table with his back to the door, and +with his head supported by his hand and arm. He did not seem to notice +the arrival of his visitor, and Elmer advanced to the table and laid the +photographs upon it. + +"I am glad you have come, Mr. Franklin. I wish to talk with you. I wish +to tell you something. A great affliction has fallen upon us, and I wish +you, as our guest, to be prepared for it. I think I can trust you, Elmer +Franklin. I remember your mother, my boy. You have her features--and I +will trust you for her sake. We are ruined." + +"How, sir? How is that possible, with all your property?" + +"Not one cent of my property--not a foot of ground, or a single brick, +or piece of shafting in the mills--belongs to me." + +"This is terrible, sir. How did it happen?" + +"It is a short and sad story. I was my father's only child, and there +were no other heirs. My father's last illness was very sudden, and he +left no will. He told me when he died that he had left everything to me. +We never found any will that would bear out this assertion. However, +the ordinary process of law gave me the property, and I thought myself +secure. Suddenly a will was found, in which all the property was left to +a distant relative in New York, and I was merely mentioned with some +trifling gift. I contested the will and lost the case. It was an +undoubted will, and in my father's own handwriting, and dated more than +a year before he died and when I was rusticating from college. I thought +I must needs sow my wild oats, and day after to-morrow I pay for them +all by total beggary. The devisee, by the will, acted very strangely +about the property. He did not disturb me for a very long time. He +probably feared to do so; and then he made a mortgage of one hundred +thousand dollars on the property, took the money, and went abroad." + +"And he left you here in possession?" + +"Yes. The interest on the mortgage became due. There was no one to pay +it, and they even had the effrontery to come to me. I refused again and +again, and every time the interest was added to the mortgage till it +rolled up to an enormous amount. Meanwhile the devisee died, penniless, +in Europe, and on Wednesday Abrams, the lawyer who holds the mortgage, +is to take possession of everything--and we--we are to go--I know not +whither." + +For a few moments there was a profound silence in the room. The elder +man mourned his dreadful fate, and the son of science was ready to shout +for joy. Restraining himself with an effort, he said, not without a +tremor in his voice: + +"And have you searched for any other will?" + +"That is an idle question, my son. We have searched these years. Then, +too, just as I need a staff for my declining years, it breaks under me." + +"You refer to Mr. Belford, sir?" + +"Yes. Since I injured my foot in the mill, I have trusted all my +affairs to him, and now I sometimes think he is playing me false. Even +now, when all this trouble has come upon me, he is absent, and I have no +one to consult, nor do I find any to aid or comfort me." + +"Perhaps I can aid you, sir." + +"I do not know. I fear no one can avail us now." + +"May I be very frank with you, sir?" + +"Certainly. I am past all pride or fear. There can be nothing worse +now." + +"I think, sir, you have placed too much confidence in that man. He is +not trustworthy." + +"How do you know? Can you prove it?" + +"Yes, sir. You remember the new chimney?" + +"Yes; but he explained that, and collected all the money that had been +paid on the supposed extra height of the chimney." + +"That was very easy, sir, for he had it in his own pocket. I met some of +the work people in the village, and casually asked them how high the +chimney was to be, and every man gave the real height. Mr. Belford lied +to you about it, and pocketed the difference between his measurements +and mine. Of course, when detected he promptly restored the money, and +thought himself lucky to have escaped so easily. More than that, he +claimed that the chimney was capped with stone. It is not. It is brick +to the top, and the upper courses were rubbed over with colored +plaster." + +"I can hardly believe it. Besides, how can you prove it?" + +"That will, sir. Look at it carefully." + +So saying, Elmer selected a photograph from those on the table and +presented it to Mr. Denny. + +The old gentleman looked at it carefully for a few moments, and then +said with an air of conviction-- + +"It is a perfect fraud. I had no idea that the man was such a thief." + +"Yes, sir. Look at that bare place where the plaster has fallen off. +You can see the brick----" + +"Oh, I can see. There is no need to explain the picture. Have you any +more?" + +"Yes, sir; quite a number. I'm glad I brought them with me." + +Mr. Denny turned them over slowly, and commented briefly upon them. + +"That's the house. Very well done, my boy. That's the mill. Excellent. I +should know it at once. And--eh! what's that? The batting mill?" + +"Yes, sir. That's the new building going up beyond the millpond." + +"Great heavens! What an outrageous fraud! Mr. Belford told me it was +nearly done. He has drawn almost all the money for it already, and +according to this picture only one story is up. When was this picture +taken?" + +"On Saturday, sir. Alma was with me. She will tell you." + +Mr. Denny rang a small bell that stood at his elbow, and a maid came to +the door. + +"Will you call Miss Denny, Anna?" + +The maid retired, and in a moment or two Alma appeared. She seemed pale +and dejected, and she sat down at once as if weary. + +"What is it, father? Any new troubles?" + +"Were you with your cousin when he took this photograph?" + +She looked at it a moment, and then said wearily: + +"Yes. It's the batting mill." + +Just here the door opened, and Mr. Belford, hat and travelling bag in +hand, as if just from the station, entered the room. The two men looked +up in undisguised amazement, but Alma cast her eyes upon the floor, and +her face seemed to put on a more ashen hue than ever. + +"Ah! excuse me. I did not mean to intrude. I'm just from New York, and I +have been so successful that I hastened to lay the news before you." + +"What have you to say, Mr. Belford," said Mr. Denny coldly. "There are +none but friends here, and you need not fear to speak." + +Mr. Franklin hastily gathered up the pictures together, and rolling them +up, put them in his pocket, with the mental remark that he "knew of one +who was not a friend--no, not much." + +"I have arranged everything," said Mr. Belford, with sublime audacity. +"The note has been taken up. I have even obtained a release of the +mortgage, and here is the cancelled note and the release. To-morrow I +will have it recorded." + +"We are in no mood for pleasantry, Mr. Belford. The sheriff was here +to-day, and Abrams is to take possession on Wednesday." + +"Oh, I knew that. He did not get my telegram in time, or he would have +saved you all this unnecessary annoyance. And now everything is all +serene, and there is Abrams's release in full." + +He took out a carefully folded paper, and gave it to Mr. Denny. He read +it in silence, and then said: + +"It seems to be quite correct. We----" + +Alma suddenly dropped her head upon her breast, and slid to the floor in +a confused heap. She thought she read in that fatal receipt her death +warrant. Nature rebelled, and mercifully took away her senses. + +Elmer sprang to her rescue, but Mr. Belford intruded himself. + +"It is my place, Mr. Franklin. She is to be my wife." + + * * * * * + +The dreary day crept to its end. Alma recovered, and retired to her +room. Mr. Denny, overcome by the excitement of the interview, was quite +ill, and the visitor, oppressed with a sense of partial defeat, took a +long walk through the country. The enemy had made such an extraordinary +movement that for the time he was disconcerted, and he wished to be +alone, that he could think over the situation. About six o'clock in the +afternoon he returned looking bright and calm, as if he had thought out +his problem and had nerved himself up to do and dare all in behalf of +the woman he loved. He went quietly to his room and began his +preparations for a vigorous assault upon the enemy. + +He rolled out his micro-lantern into the middle of the room, drew up the +curtains at the window that faced Mr. Belford's chamber, and prepared to +adjust the apparatus to a new and most singular style of lantern +projections. He had hardly finished the work to his satisfaction before +he heard Alma's knock at the door. He hastily drew down the curtains, +and then invited her to come in. + +She opened the door and appeared upon the threshold, the picture of +resigned and heavy sorrow. She had evidently been weeping, and the dark +dress in which she had arrayed herself seemed to intensify the look of +anguish on her face. The son of science was disconcerted. He did not +know what to say, and, with great wisdom, he said nothing. + +She entered the room without a word, and sat wearily down on a trunk. +Elmer quickly rolled out the great easy chair so that it would face the +open western window. + +"Sit here, Miss Denny. This is far more comfortable." + +"Oh, Elmer! Have you too turned against me?" + +"Not knowingly. Sit here where there is more air, and before this view +and this beautiful sunset." + +She rose, and with a forlorn smile took the great chair, and then gazed +absently out of the window upon the charming landscape, brilliant with +the glow of the setting sun. Elmer meanwhile went on with his work, and +for a little space neither spoke. Then she said, with a faint trace of +impatience in her voice-- + +"What are you doing, Elmer?" + +"Preparing for war." + +"It is useless. It is too late." + +"Think so?" + +"Yes. Everything has been settled, and in a very satisfactory +manner--at least father is satisfied, and I suppose I ought to be." + +She smiled and held out her hand to him. + +"How can I ever thank you, cousin Elmer? You will not forget me when I +am gone." + +"Forget you, Alma! That was unkind." + +He took her hand, glanced at the diamond ring upon her finger, and +looking down upon her as she lay half reclining in the great chair, he +said, with an effort, as if the words pained him: + +"Alma, you have surrendered to him." + +She looked up with a startled expression, and said: + +"What do you mean?" + +"You have renewed your engagement with Mr. Belford?" + +"Yes--of course I have. He--he is to be my husband----" + +"On Wednesday." + +"Yes. How did you know it?" + +Instead of replying he turned to a drawer and drew forth a long ribbon +of white paper. Holding it to the light, near the window, he began to +read the words printed in dots and lines upon it. + +"Here is your own confession. Here are all the messages you sent me from +the parlor, when you broke your engagement with him----" + +"Oh, Elmer! Did you save that? Destroy it--destroy it at once. If he +should find it, he would never forgive me." + +"You need not fear. I shall not destroy it, and it shall never cause you +any trouble." + +She had risen in her excitement, and stood upon her feet. Suddenly she +flushed a rosy red, and a strange light shone in her eyes. The sun had +sunk behind the hills, and it had grown dark. As the shadows gathered in +the room a strange, mystic light fell on the wall before her. A +picture--dim, ghostly, gigantic, and surpassingly beautiful--met her +astonished eyes. She gazed at it with a beating heart, awed into +silence by its mystery and its unearthly aspect. What was it? What did +it mean? By what magic art had he conjured up this vision? She stood +with parted lips gazing at it, while her bosom rose and fell with her +rapid, excited breathing. Suddenly she threw her arms above her head, +and with a cry fell back upon the chair. + +"Oh, Elmer! My heart----" + +He had been gazing absently out of the window at the fading twilight, +and hearing her cry of pain, he turned hastily and said: + +"Alma, what is it? Are you----" + +He caught sight of the picture on the wall. He understood it at once, +and went to the stereopticon that stood at the other end of the room and +opened it. The lamp was burning brightly, and he put it out and closed +the door. Then he drew out the glass slide, held it a moment to the +light to make sure that it was Alma's portrait, and then he kissed it +passionately, and shivered it into fragments upon the hearthstone. + +She heard the breaking glass, and rose hastily and turned toward him. + +"Elmer, that was cruel. Why did you destroy it?" + +"Because it told too much." + +"It was my picture?" + +"Yes. I confess with shame that I stole it when you were asleep under +the influence of the gas I gave you. It happened to be in the lantern +when you came in." + +"And so I saw it pictured on the wall?" + +"Yes. In that way did it betray me. Forget it, Alma. Forget me. Forget +everything. Forget that I ever came here----" + +"No--never. I cannot." + +"You will be married soon and go away. I presume we may never meet +again." + +"Oh, Elmer, forgive me. I am the one to be forgiven. I am alone to blame +for all this sorrow. I thought I alone should suffer. But--but, Elmer, +you will not forget me, and you see--you must see that what I do is for +the best. It is the only way. I cannot see my father beggared." + +The clear-headed son of science seemed to be losing his self-control. +This was all so new, so exciting, so different from the calm and steady +flow of his student life, that he knew not what to say or do. He began +to turn over his books and papers in a nervous manner, as if trying to +win back control of his own tumultuous thoughts. Fortunately Alma came +to his rescue. + +"Elmer, hear me." + +"Yes," he said with an effort. "Tell me about it; then perhaps we can +understand each other better." + +"I will. Come and sit by me. It grows dark, and I--well, it is no +matter. It will do me good to speak of it." + +"Yes, do. Sorrow shared is divided by half." + +"And joy shared is doubled," she added. "But we will not talk of 'the +might have been.'" + +Then she paused and looked out on the gathering night for some minutes +in silence. Elmer sat at her feet upon a low stool, and waited till she +should speak. + +"Elmer, say that you will forgive me whatever happens. No matter how +dark it looks for me, forgive me--and--do not forget me. I couldn't bear +that. On Wednesday I am to be married to Mr. Belford. It is the only way +by which I can save my father. There seems no help for it, and I +consented this afternoon. Mr. Belford took up the mortgage, and I am to +be his reward." + +Elmer heard her through in silence, and then he stood up before her, and +his passion broke out in fury upon her. + +"Alma Denny, you are a fool." + +She cowered before him, and covered her face with her hands. + +"Have you no sense? Can you not see the wide pit of deceit that is +spread before you? Do you believe what he says? Will you walk into +perdition to save your father?" + +"Oh, Elmer! Elmer! Spare me, spare me, for my father's sake!" + +Her sobs and tears choked her utterance, and she shrank away into the +depths of the chair, in shame and terror, thankful that the darkness hid +her from his view. Still his righteous indignation blazed upon her +hotly. + +"Where have you lived? What have you done, that you should be so +deceived by this man? How can you save your father? If you cannot find +that missing will, of what avail is this withdrawal of the mortgage?" + +"I do not know. Oh, Elmer! I am weak, and I have no mother, and father +is----I must save him if I can--at any price." + +"You cannot save him. The devisee who held the will has heirs. They can +still claim the property. Besides, how could Mr. Belford pay off that +mortgage? Depend upon it, a gigantic fraud----" + +"Elmer! Thank God, you have saved----" + +She fainted quietly away, and slid down upon the floor at his feet. He +called two of the maids, and with their help he took her to her room and +placed her upon her own bed. Then, bidding them care for her properly, +he returned to his own room, and the heavy night fell down on the +sorrowful house. + +Far away in the northwest climbed up a ragged mass of sombre clouds. +Afar off the deep voice of the thunder muttered fitfully. The son of +science drew up his curtains and looked out on the coming storm. There +was a solemn hush and calm in the air. Nature seemed resting, and +nerving herself for the warfare of the elements. + +He too had need of calm. He drew a chair to the window, and sitting +astride of it, he rested his arms upon the back, and his chin upon his +folded hands, and for an hour watched the lightning flash from ragged +cloud to ragged cloud, and gave himself to deep and anxious thought. The +thunder grew nearer and nearer. The dark veil of clouds blotted out the +stars one by one. The roar of the water falling over the dam at the mill +seemed to fill all the air with its murmur. Every leaf and flower hung +motionless. + +He heard the village clock strike nine, with loud, deep notes that +seemed almost at hand. Every nerve of his body seemed strung to electric +tension, and all nature tuned to a higher pitch as if dark and terrible +things were abroad in the night. + +He heard a sound of closing blinds and windows. The servants were +shutting up the house, and preparing it for the storm. + +One of them knocked at his door, and asked if she should come in and +close his windows. + +He opened the door, thanked her, and said he would attend to it himself. +As he closed the door and stepped back into the room, he stood upon +something and there was a little crash. Thinking it might be glass, he +lit a candle and looked for the broken object, whatever it might be. + +It was Alma's engagement ring, broken in twain. It had slipped from her +nerveless finger when they took her to her room. With a gesture of +impatience, he picked up the fragments, and threw them, diamond and all, +out of the window into the garden below. + +Then for another hour he sat alone in the darkness of his room, watchful +and patient. He drew up the curtain toward Alma's room. There was a +light there, and he sat gazing at her white curtain till the light was +extinguished. The other lights were all put out one after the other, and +then it became very still. + +The clock struck ten. The gathering storm climbed higher up the western +sky. The lightning flashed brighter and brighter. There was a sigh in +the tree tops as if the air stirred uneasily. + +Suddenly there was another light. Mr. Belford's curtain was brightly +illuminated by his candle. Elmer moved his chair so that he could watch +the window, and waited patiently till the light was put out. Then he saw +the curtain raised and the window drawn down. + +"All right, my boy! That's just what I wanted. Nemesis has a clear road, +and her shadowy sword shall reach you. Now for the closed circuit +alarm." + +He silently pulled off his shoes, and then, with the tread of a cat, he +felt about his room till he found on the table two delicate coils of +fine insulated wire, and a couple of tacks. Carefully opening the door, +he crept down stairs and through the hall to the door of the library. +The door was closed, and kneeling down on the mat he pushed a tack into +the door near the jamb and stuck the other in the door post. From one to +another he stretched a bit of insulated wire. Then, aided by the glare +of the flashes of lightning, that had now grown bright and frequent, he +laid the wires under the mat and along the floor to the foot of the +stairs. Then in his stockinged feet he crept upward, dropping the wires +over into the well of the stairway as he went. In a moment or two the +wires were traced along the floor of the upper entry and under the door +into his room. Here they were secured to a small battery, and connected +with a tiny electric bell that stood on the mantle shelf. To stifle its +sound in case it rang, he threw his straw hat over the bell, and then he +felt sure that at least one part of his work was done. + +Louder and louder rolled the thunder. The lightning flashed brightly and +lit up the bare, mean little room where the wretch cowered and shivered +in the bed, sleepless and fearful he knew not why. He feared the storm +and the night. He feared everything. His guilty heart made terrors out +of the night and nature's healthful workings. The very storm, blessed +harbinger of clearer days and sweeter airs, terrified him. + +There was a sound of rushing wind in the air. A more vivid flash +blinded him. He sat up in bed and stopped his coward ears to drown the +splendid roll of the thunder. Another flash seemed to fill the room. + +Ah! What was that? His eyes seemed to start from their sockets in +terror. + +There, written in gigantic letters of fire upon the wall, glowed and +burned a single word: + + FRAUD! + +He stared at it and rubbed his eyes. It would not be winked out. There +was a loud crash of thunder and a furious dash of rain against the +window; then another blinding stroke of lightning. He drew the clothing +over his head in abject terror. Again the thunder rolled as if in savage +comment on the writing on the wall. + +It was a mistake, a delusion. He would face the horrid accusation. + +It was gone, and in its place was a picture. It seemed the top of---- + +Ah! It was that chimney. Already the false stucco had fallen off, and +there, pictured upon his wall in lines of fire, were the evidences of +his fraud and crime. + +He sprang from the bed with an oath and looked out of the window. +Darkness everywhere. The beating rain on the window pane ran down in +blinding rivulets. A vivid flash of lightning illuminated the garden and +the house. Not a living thing was stirring. He turned toward the bed. +The terrible picture had gone. With a muttered curse upon his weak, +disordered nerves, he crept into bed and tried to sleep. + +Suddenly the terrible writing glowed upon the wall again, and he fairly +screamed with fright and horror: + + MURDER! + +He writhed and turned upon the bed in mortal agony. He stared at the +letters of the awful word with ashen lips and chattering teeth. What +hideous dream was this? Had his reason reeled? Could it play him +phantom tricks like this? Or was it an avenging angel from heaven +writing his crimes upon the black night? + +"Great God! What was that?" + +The writing disappeared, and in its place stood a picture of his +wretched victim and himself. Her fair, innocent face looked down upon +him from the darkness, and he saw his own form beside her. + +He raved with real madness now. Great drops of perspiration gathered on +his face. He dared not face those beautiful eyes so calmly gazing at +him. Where had high Heaven gained such knowledge of him? How could God +punish him with such awful cruelty? + +"Hell and damnation have come," he screamed in frantic terror. The +thunder rolled in deep majesty, and none heard him. The wind and rain +beat upon the house, and his ravings disturbed no one. + +"Take it away! Take it away!" he cried in sheer madness and agony. + +It would not move. The lightning only made the picture more startling +and awful. The sweet and beautiful face of Alice Green lived before him +in frightful distinctness, and his very soul seemed to burn to cinder +before her serene, unearthly presence. + +It was her ghost revisiting the earth. Was it to always thus torment +him? + +"Thank God! It has gone." + +The room became pitch dark, and he fell back upon the pillow in what +seemed to him a bloody sweat. He could not sleep, and for some time he +lay trembling on the bed and trying to collect his senses and decide +whether he was in possession of his reason or not. + +Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a new vision sprang into +existence before him. + +An angel in long white robes seemed to be flying through the air toward +him, and above her head she held a sword. Beneath her feet was the word +"NEMESIS!" in letters of glowing fire. + +The poor wretch rose up in bed, kneeled down upon the mattress, and +facing the gigantic figure that seemed to float in the air above him, +cried aloud in broken gasps. + +"Pardon! For--Christ----" + +He threw up his arms and screamed in delirious terror. + +The angel advanced through the air toward him and grew larger and +taller. She seemed ready to strike him to the ground--and she was gone. + +He fell forward flat on his face, and tears gushed from his eyes in +torrents. For a while he lay thus moaning and crying, and then he rose, +staggered to the wash basin, bathed his face with cold water, and crept +shivering and trembling into bed. + + * * * * * + +The storm moved slowly away. The lightning grew less frequent, and the +thunder rolled in more subdued tones. The wind subsided, but the rain +fell steadily and drearily. One who watched heard the clock strike +twelve and then one. + +Slowly the laggard hours slipped away in silence. The rain fell in +monotonous showers. The darkness hung like a pall over everything. + +The wretch in his bed tossed in sleepless misery. He hardly dared look +at the blackness of the night, for fear some new vision might affright +him with ghostly warnings. What had he better do? Another night in this +haunted room would drive him insane. Had he not better fly--leave all +and escape out of sight in the hiding darkness? Better abandon the +greater prize, take everything in reach, and fly from scenes so +terrible. + +He rose softly, dressed completely, took a few essentials from his +table, did them up in a bundle, and then like a cat he crept out of the +room, never to return. The house was pitch dark and as silent as a tomb. +He had no need of a light, and, feeling his way along with his hands on +the wall, he stole down stairs and through the hall till he reached the +library door. With cautious fingers he turned the handle in silence and +pushed the door open. It seemed to catch on the threshold, but it was +only for an instant, and then he boldly entered the room. + +Placing his bundle upon the table, he took out a small bunch of keys, +and with his hands outstretched before him he felt for the safe. It was +easily found, and then he put in the key, unlocked the door, and swung +it open. With familiar fingers he pulled out what he knew were mere +bills and documents, and then he found the small tin box in which-- + +A blinding glare, an awful flash of overpowering light blazed before +him. His eyes seemed put out by its bewildering intensity, and a little +scream of terror escaped from his lips. A hand seized him by the collar +and dragged him over backward upon the floor. The blazing, burning light +filled all the room with a glare more terrible than the lightning. He +recovered his sight, and saw Nemesis standing above him, revolver in +hand, and with a torch of magnesium wire blazing in horrid flames above +his head. + +"Stir hand or foot, and--you understand. There are six chambers, and I'm +a good shot." + +"Let me up, you fool, or I'll kill you." + +"Oh! You surprise me, Mr. Belford. I thought it was a common robber." + +"No, it is not--so lower your pistol." + +"No, sir. You may rise, but make the slightest resistance, and I'll blow +your brains into muddy fragments. Sit in that chair, and when I've +secured you properly, I'll hear any explanation you may make. Your +conduct is very singular, Mr. Belford, to say the least. That's it. Sit +down in the arm chair. Now I'm going to tie you into it, and on the +slightest sign of resistance I shall fire." + +The poor, cowed creature sank into the chair, and the son of science +placed his strange lamp upon the table. With the revolver still in +hand, he procured a match and lit a candle on the table. Then he +extinguished his torch, and the overpowering light gave place to a more +agreeable gloom. Then he took from his pocket a tiny electric bell and a +little battery made of a small ink bottle. Then he drew forth a small +roll of wire, and securing one end to the battery, with the revolver +still in hand, he walked round the chair three times, and bound the +thief into it with the slender wire. + +"Stop this fooling, boy! Lower your revolver, and let me explain +matters." + +"No, sir. When I have you fast so that you can do no harm, I talk with +you--not before. Hold back your head. That's it. Rest it against the +chair while I draw this wire over your throat." + +"For God's sake, stop! Do you intend to garrote me?" + +"No. Only I mean to make you secure." + +"This won't hold me long. I'll break your wires in a flash, you little +fool." + +"No, you will not. The moment the wire is parted that bell will ring, +and I shall begin firing, and keep it up till you are disabled or dead." + +The man swore savagely, but the cold thread of insulated wire over his +throat thrilled his every nerve. It seemed some magic bond, mysterious, +wonderful, and dreadful. This cool man of science was an angel of awful +and incomprehensible power. His lamp of such mystic brilliance and that +battery quite unnerved his coward heart. What awful torture, what +burning flash of lightning might not rend him to blackened fragments if +the wires were broken! To such depths of puerile ignorance and terror +did the wretch sink in his guilty fancy. He dared not move a muscle lest +the wire break. The very thought of it filled him with unspeakable +agony. The son of science placed himself before his prisoner. With the +revolver at easy rest, he said: + +"Mr. Belford, I am going to call help. Do not move while I open the +door." + +In mortal terror the wretch turned his head round to see what was going +on. He managed to get a glimpse of the room without breaking the wire +round his throat, and he saw the young man stoop to the floor at the +door and pick up something. Then he made some strange and rapid motions +with the fingers of his right hand, while the left still steadied the +revolver. + +For several minutes nothing happened. The two men glared at each other +in silence, and then there was a sound of opening doors. One closed with +an echoing slam that resounded strangely through the old house, and then +there were light footsteps in the hall. + +"Oh! Elmer! What is it? What has happened?" + +"Nothing very serious--merely a common burglar. I called you because I +wished help." + +"Yes, I heard the bell, and I read your message in my room by the sound. +I dressed as quickly as possible. Is there no danger?" + +"No. Stand back. Do not come into the room. Call the men, and let them +wake the gardener and his son. You yourself call your father, and bid +him dress and come down at once. And, Alma, keep cool and do not be +alarmed. I need you, Alma, and you must help me." + +Then the house was very still, and the watcher paced up and down before +his prisoner in silence. There came a hasty opening of doors, and +excited steps and flaring lamps in the hall. + +"'Tis the young doctor. Oh! By mighty! Here's troubles!" + +"Quiet, men! Keep quiet. Come in. He cannot hurt you." + +The three men, shivering and anxious, peered into the room with blanched +faces and chattering teeth. + +"Have you a rope?" + +The calm voice of the speaker reassured them, and all three volunteered +to go for one. + +"No. One is enough. And one of you had better go to Mr. Denny's room and +help him down stairs. You, John, may stop with me." + +"Gods! Sir, he will spring at me!" + +"Never you fear. He's fastened into the chair. Besides----" + +"Ay, sir, you've the little pet! That's the kind o' argiment." + +"It is a rather nice weapon--six-shooter--Colt's." + +Presently, with much clatter, the gardener's son brought a rope, and +then, under Mr. Franklin's directions, they bound the man in the chair +hand and foot. + +A moment after they heard Mr. Denny's crutch stalking down the stairs, +and Alma's voice assuring him that there was indeed no danger--no danger +at all. + +"What does this mean, Mr. Franklin?" said the old gentleman as he came +to the door. + +"Burglary, sir. That is all. You need fear nothing. We have secured the +man." + +Mr. Denny entered the room leaning on Alma's arm. He saw the open safe +and the papers strewed upon the floor, and he lifted his hand and shook +his head in alarm and trouble. + +"A robbery! Would they ruin me utterly? Where is the villain?" + +"There, sir." + +Alma turned toward the man in the chair, and clung to her father in +terror. The old man lifted his crutch as if to strike. + +"My curse be upon you and yours." + +"Oh, father, come away. Leave the poor wretch. Perhaps he has taken +nothing." + +The men gathered round in a circle, and Elmer drew near to Alma. She +felt his presence near her, and involuntarily put out her hand to touch +him. + +"My curse fall on you! Who are you? What have I done to +you--you--viper?" + +The man secured in the chair, and with the wire drawn tightly over his +throat, replied not a word. + +Elmer advanced toward him, and Alma, with a little cry, tried to hinder +him. + +"Do not fear. He cannot move. I will release his head, and perhaps you +will recognize him." + +The wire about his throat was loosened, and the wretch lifted his head +into a more comfortable position. + +"Ah!" + +"Great Heavens! It is Mr. Belford!" + +"Yes, sir," said he. "I forgot to put away some papers, and I came down +to secure them, and while I was here that wretch surprised me, +threatened to murder me, and finally overpowered me and bound me here as +you see. If you will ask him to release me, I will get up and explain +everything." + +"It's a lie," screamed Mr. Denny, lifting his crutch. "I don't believe +you--you thief--you robber! It's a lie!" + +"Oh, father!" cried Alma. "Release him--let him go. He will go away +then, and leave us. He has done wrong; but let him go. It must be some +awful mistake--some----" + +"No! Never! never! ne--v----" + +The word died away on his lips, for on the instant there was a loud ring +at the hall door. They all listened in silence. Again the importunate +bell pealed through the echoing house. + +"It is some one in distress," said Elmer. "John, do you take a light and +go to the door. Ask what is wanted before you loose the chain, and tell +them to go away unless it is a case of life or death." + +They listened in breathless interest to the confused sounds in the hall. +There was a moving of locks, and then rough voices talking in suppressed +whispers. The candles flared in the cold draught of wind that swept into +the room, and the sound of the rain in the trees filled the air. Then +the door closed, and John returned, and in an excited whisper said: + +"It's Mr. Jones, the sheriff." + +At this word Mr. Belford struggled with his bonds, and in a broken +voice he cried: + +"Oh, Mr. Denny, spare me! Let me not be arrested. I will restore +every----" + +"Silence, sir!" said Elmer. "Not a word till you are spoken to. What +does he want, John?" + +"He says he must see Mr. Denny. It's very important--and, oh, sir, he's +a'most beside himself, and I wouldn't let him in." + +"Call him in at once," said Mr. Denny. "It is a most fortunate arrival. +The very man we want." + +John returned to the hall, and in a moment an old man, gray-haired and +wrinkled, but still vigorous and strong, stood before them. He seemed a +giant in his huge great-coat, and when he removed his hat his massive +head and thick neck seemed almost leonine. + +"Ah! Mr. Sheriff, you have arrived at a most opportune moment. We were +just awakened from our beds by this robber. We captured him, and we have +him here." + +"Beg pardon, sir. Sorry to hear it, but 'twere another errant that +brought me here. The widow Green's daughter, Alice, she that was +missing, has been found in the mill-race--dead." + +They all gave expression to undisguised astonishment, and the prisoner +in the chair groaned heavily. + +"And I have come for the key of the boat house, sir, that we may go for +the--body, sir." + +"How horrible! When did all this happen?" + +"We dunno, sir. I'd like the key ter once." + +"Certainly--certainly, Mr. Sheriff. But this man--cannot you secure him +for the night?" + +"Oh, ay. But the child, sir. The boys wants your boat to go for her." + +"Poor, poor Alice!" cried Alma, wringing her hands. + +"John," said Elmer, "get the key for Mr. Jones. Jake, you and your +father can go with the men, and, Mr. Jones, perhaps you had better wait +with us, for we have a little matter of importance to settle, and we +need you." + +"Now," said Mr. Franklin, "I have one or two questions I wish to ask the +man, and then, Mr. Jones, you will do us a favor if you will take him +away. + +"Lawrence Belford, as you value your soul, where did you obtain that +will?" + +If a bolt from the storm overhead had entered the room, it could not +have produced a more startling impression than did this simple question. +Mr. Denny dropped his crutch, and raised both hands in astonishment. +Alma gave a half suppressed scream, and even the sheriff and John were +amazed beyond expression. + +The man in the chair made no reply, and presently the breathless silence +was broken by the calm voice of the young man repeating his question. + +"I found it in the leaves of a book in the old bookcase in the mill +office." + +"What?" cried Mr. Denny, leaning forward and steadying himself by the +table. "My father's will! Did you find it? Release him, John. How can we +ever thank you, Mr. Belford? It is the missing will----" + +"Oh, Lawrence!" said Alma. "Why did you not tell us? why did you not +show it? How much trouble it would have saved." + +"Have patience, Alma. Let Mr. Belford rise and bring the will." + +"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Hear the rest of the story. Mr. Belford, you +destroyed or suppressed that will, did you not?" + +"Yes, I did--damn you!" + +"Good Lord!" cried the sheriff. "Did ye hear that?--destroyed it! That's +State's prison." + +"Oh, Mr. Franklin, Mr. Denny! have mercy on me! Do not let them arrest +me." + +The poor creature seemed to be utterly cowed and crushed in an instant. + +"Marcy!" said the sheriff, taking out a pair of handcuffs. "It's little +marcy ye'll git." + +"You ask for mercy!" cried Mr. Denny, his face livid with passion. +"You--you wretch! Have you not ruined me? Have you not made my child a +beggar, and carried my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave? You knew the +value of this will--and you destroyed it! Your other crimes are as +nothing to this. I could forgive your monstrous frauds in my mills----" + +Mr. Belford winced and looked surprised. + +"Ay! wince you may. I have found out everything, thanks to--but I'll not +couple his name with yours. And the release of the mortgage--have you +that?" + +"No, sir. It is in that bag on the table." + +The old gentleman eagerly took up the bundle that lay on the table, and +began with trembling fingers to open it. + +"Wait a moment, Mr. Denny," said Mr. Franklin. "I should like to ask +this man a question or two." + +Mr. Denny paused, and there was a profound silence in the room. + +"Lawrence Belford, if you are wise, you will speak the truth. That +release is a forgery--or at least it has no legal value." + +"It is not worth a straw," replied the prisoner with cool impudence; +"and on the whole, I'm glad of it. The mortgage will be foreclosed +to-morrow." + +"Your share will be small, Mr. Belford. I am afraid your partner will +find some difficulty in making a settlement with you, unless he joins +you in prison." + +Mr. Denny sat heavily down in an arm-chair and groaned aloud. In vain +Alma, with choking voice, tried to comfort him. The blow was too +terrible for words, and for a moment or two there was a painful silence +in the room. + +Mr. Franklin seemed nervous and excited. He fumbled in his pockets as if +in search of something. Presently he advanced toward the old gentleman +and said quietly: + +"Mr. Denny, can you bear one more piece of news--one more link in this +terrible chain of crime?" + +"Yes," he replied slowly. "There can be nothing worse than this. Speak, +my son--let us hear everything." + +"I think, sir," said the young man reverently, "that I ought to thank +God that He has enabled me to bring such knowledge as He has given me to +your service." + +Then after a brief pause he added: + +"There is the will, sir." + +With these words he held out a small bit of sheet glass about two inches +square. + +"Where?" cried Mr. Denny in amazement. "I see nothing." + +"There it is--on that piece of glass. That dusky spot in the centre is a +micro-photographic copy of your father's will." + +"My son, my son, do not trifle with us in this our hour of trial." + +"Far be it from me to do such a thing. Alma, will you please go to my +room and bring down my lantern? And John, you may go and help Miss +Denny. Bring a sheet from the spare bed also." + +"I do not know what you mean, my son. You tell me the will is destroyed, +and you say you have a copy. Is it a legal copy? and how do you know it +is really my father's will? Have you read it?" + +"Yes, sir. You shall read it too presently. I have already shown it to a +lawyer, and he pronounced it correct and perfectly legal." + +"But why did you not tell us of it before?" + +"I have only had it a few days, sir, and I wished first to crush or +capture this robber." + +"Hadn't ye better let me take him off, sir?" said the sheriff. "He's +done enough to take him afore the grand jury. Besides, we have another +bitter bill against him down in the village." + +"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Let him stay and see the will. It may interest +him to know that all his villainous plans are utterly overthrown." + +"Shut up, you whelp," said the man in the chair. + +"Shut up--ye," replied the sheriff, administering a stout cuff to the +prisoner's ear. "Ye best hold your tongue, man." + +Just here Alma and John returned with the lantern. Under Elmer's +directions they hung the sheet over one of the windows, and then the +young man prepared his apparatus for a small trial of lantern +projections. Mr. Denny sat in his chair silent and wondering. He knew +not what to say or do, and watched these preparations with the utmost +attention. + +"Mr. Sheriff, if you please, you will stand near Mr. Belford, to prevent +him from attempting mischief when I darken the room. John, you may put +out all the candles save one." + +Alma took her father's hand and kneeled upon the floor beside him as if +to aid and comfort him. + +"Now, John, set that candle just outside the door in the entry." + +A sense of awe and fear fell on them all as the room became dark, and +none save the young son of science dared breathe. Suddenly a round spot +of light fell on the sheet, and its glare illuminated the room dimly. + +"Before I show the will, Mr. Sheriff, I wish you to see a photo that may +be of use to you in that little matter in the village of which you were +speaking." + +Two dusky figures slid over the disk of light. They grew more and more +distinct. + +"Great God! It's Alice Green!" + +A passion of weeping filled the room, and Elmer opened the lantern, and +the room became light. Alma, with her head bent upon her father's knee, +was bathed in tears. + +"Poor, poor lost Alice!" + +"And the fellow with her? Who is he?" cried the sheriff. + +"That is Mr. Belford--Mr. Lawrence Belford," said Elmer with cool +confidence. "That picture was taken through a telescope from my room on +the morning of the 13th." + +"The 13th! Why, man, that was the day she was missed." + +"Yes. Mr. Belford was with her that day, and perhaps he can explain her +disappearance." + +The prisoner groaned in abject terror and misery. He saw it all now. His +dream pictures were explained. His defeat and detection were +accomplished through the young man's science. That he should have been +overthrown by such simple means filled him with mortification and anger. + +"You shall have the picture, Mr. Sheriff. You may need it at the trial. +And now for the will." + +The room became again dark, and the figures on the wall stood out sharp +and distinct on the sheet. Then the picture faded away, and in its place +appeared writing--letters in black upon white ground: + + + "SALMON FALLS, June 1, 1863. + + "I, Edward Denny, do hereby leave and bequeath to my son, John + Denny, all of my property, both real and personal. All other + wills I have made are hereby annulled. My near death prevents a + more formal will. + + "EDWARD DENNY. + + "Witness: + + "JOHN MAXWELL, M.D." + +"My father's will. Thank----" + +There was a heavy fall, and Elmer opened his lantern quickly. It was too +much for the old man. He had fallen upon the floor insensible. + +"A light, John, quick." + +They lifted him tenderly, and with Alma's help the old sheriff and the +serving man took him away to his room. + +The moment the two men were alone, the prisoner in the chair broke out +in a torrent of curses and threats. The young man quietly took up his +revolver, and said sternly: + +"Lawrence Belford, hold your peace. Your threats are idle. You insulted +me outrageously the day I came here. I bear you no malice, but when you +attempted your infamous plan to capture my cousin and to ruin her +father, I sprang to their rescue with such skill as I could command. We +shall not pursue you with undue rigor, but with perfect justice----" + +"Oh, Mr. Franklin, have mercy upon me! Let me go! Let me escape before +they return. I will go away--far away! Save me, save me, sir! I never +harmed you. Have mercy upon me!" + +"Had you shown mercy perhaps I might now. No, sir; justice before mercy. +Hark--the officer comes." + +They unfastened the ropes about Belford, and released the wires, and in +silence he went away into the night, a broken-down, crushed, and ruined +man in the hands of his grisly Nemesis. + +The young man flung himself upon the lounge in the library, and in a +moment was fast asleep. + + * * * * * + +The red gold of the coming day crept up the eastern sky. The storm +became beautiful in its fleecy rains in the far south. As the stars +paled, the sweet breath of the cool west wind sprang up, shaking the +raindrops in showers from the trees. The birds sang and the day came on +apace. + +To one who watched it seemed the coming of a fairer day than had ever +shone upon her life. The vanished storm, the fresh aspect of nature +moved her to tears of happiness. Long had she watched the stars. They +were the first signs of light and comfort she had discovered, and now +they paled before the sun. Thus she sat by the open window in the +library and watched with a prayer in her heart. + +She looked at the mantel clock. Half past four. In half an hour the +house would be stirring. All was now safe. She could return to her room. +She rose and approached the sleeper on the lounge. He slept peacefully, +as if the events of the night disturbed him not. + +He smiled in his dreams, and murmured a name indistinctly. She drew back +hastily and put her hand over her mouth, while a bright blush mounted to +her face. Just here, through the sweet, still air of the morning, came +the sound of the village bell. Tears gathered in her eyes and fell +unheeded upon her hands, clasped before her. + +"Poor--lost--Alice--nineteen--just my----" + +"Alma." + +She turned toward the sleeper with a startled cry. He was awake and +sitting up. + +"What bell is that?" + +"It is tolling. They have found her." + +"Yes, it is a sad story. Alma?" + +She advanced toward him. He noticed her tears and the morning robe in +which she was dressed. + +"What is it, Elmer? Do you feel better?" + +"Yes. It was a sorry night for us." + +"Yes, the storm has cleared away." + +He did not seem to heed what she said. + +"How long have you been up?" + +"Since it happened. After I saw father up stairs, I came down and found +you here asleep. And Elmer--forgive me--it was wrong, but I did not mean +to stay here so long----" + +"Alma!" + +"You will pardon me?" + +"Oh! Pardon you--pardon you--why should I? I dreamed the angels watched +me." + +"I was anxious, and we owe you so much. We can never reward you--never!" + +"Reward, Alma! I want none--save----" + +"Save what?" + +He opened his arms wide. A new and beautiful light came into her eyes. + +"Can there be greater reward than love?" + +"No. Love is the best reward--and it is yours." + + CHARLES BARNARD. + + + + +THE MURDER OF MARGARY. + + +Our own politics have so absorbed the attention of the press and the +public for the last six months, that events of decided international +prominence have attracted merely a brief notice, instead of the careful +discussion which their importance warranted. Even the "Eastern +question," that has so long kept the European world in a state of +excitement and anxiety almost as intense and even more painful than that +in which our own country is now plunged, excited but a fitful interest +here. It was only by an effort that we could extend our political +horizon as far east as Constantinople. All beyond was comparative +darkness. In this darkness, however, history has gone steadily on +accumulating new and important data, which must be taken note of if we +would keep up with the record of the times. + +The term "Eastern question" has come to mean the political complications +arising from the presence of the Turkish empire in Europe. The +expression might much more appropriately be applied to the serious +difficulties that have for the last year and a half existed between the +governments of England and China, and which have, as it now appears, +been brought to a reasonably satisfactory conclusion. These difficulties +sprang out of the murder of an English subject, Augustus Raymond Margary +by name, who was travelling in an official capacity in a remote part of +the Chinese empire. They were still further complicated by an almost +simultaneous attack upon a British exploring expedition that had just +crossed the Chinese frontier from Burmah, with the intention of +surveying and opening up to trade an overland route between that country +and the Middle Kingdom. To understand the matter it will be necessary to +give a brief recapitulation of some events that went before. + +The vast importance of establishing an overland trade route between +India and China will be seen by a glance at the map. It has been the +unrealized dream of generations of India and China merchants. "The trade +route of the future" it has been called; and when we consider the vast +marts of commerce that such a highway would bring in direct contact, it +is impossible to think the name thus enthusiastically given an +exaggeration. An overland passage between China and Burmah has long been +known and made use of by the native merchants of these countries. From +time immemorial it has served as a highway for invading armies or +peaceful caravans. How highly the two governments appreciated its +importance to the commercial prosperity of their respective subjects is +shown by the clause in a treaty concluded by them in 1769, which +stipulated that the "gold and silver road" between the two countries +should always be kept open. European travellers in Eastern lands, from +the ubiquitous Marco Polo down, have also done their best to call +attention to it. It may therefore seem somewhat strange that England, +the commercial interest of whose Indian empire would be most directly +promoted by the opening up of this new channel of trade, should have +gone so long without paying much official attention to the matter. +Recent events, however, have proved, what was probably foreseen by those +whose business it was to study up the subject, that there were grave +practical difficulties to be overcome before the plan could be +successfully carried out. + +In the first place it was necessary to secure the consent of both the +Burmese and Chinese governments--a task of almost insurmountable +difficulty because of the natural dislike of these two powers to share +with another the trade monopoly they had heretofore exclusively +enjoyed. Then again there lies between the civilizations of India and +China a broad tract of wild and mountainous country, inhabited by a +mongrel race of savages, known as Shans and Kakhyens, who, while +nominally owing allegiance to one or the other of their more civilized +neighbors, practically find their chief support in levying blackmail on +all people passing through their territory. + +To fit out an exploring expedition strong enough to defy the attacks of +the savages, and yet small enough not to convey the idea of an invasion, +was, therefore, a work requiring much patience and diplomacy. At length, +however, in 1867, the British Government in India succeeded in gaining +the consent of the King of Burmah to the passage through his dominions +of a mission combining the necessary strength and limits. Under the +command of Major Slade, this little army made its way safely through the +debatable land of the Kakhyens and Shans, and, entering the province of +Yunnan, penetrated as far into the Chinese empire as the city of Momien. +But here its further progress was checked. + +Yunnan was at the moment in the very crisis of a rebellion against the +imperial government. The population of the province is largely +Mohammedan. How the religion of the Prophet first obtained so firm a +foothold there is still for antiquaries to discover. A semi-historical +legend says that the germs of the faith were planted by a colony of +Arabs who settled in the country more than a thousand years ago. However +this may be, it is certain that the first Mohammedans were not Chinese. +By intermarriage, propagation, and adoption, they slowly but steadily +communicated their belief to the original inhabitants, until, at the +time of which we are writing, more than a tenth of the ten million +inhabitants were fanatical Mussulmans. To the mixed race that embrace +this creed the general name of Panthays has been given, though for what +reason is not known. + +In 1855 the Panthays, oppressed, it is said, by the Chinese officials, +rose up in rebellion against the imperial government. Led by an obscure +Chinese follower of Mohammed, called Tu-win-tsen, the insurrection grew +rapidly in extent and success. One imperial city after the other fell +into the hands of the rebels, until the entire western section of the +province was in their possession and organized as a separate and +independent nation, under the sovereignty of Tu-win-tsen, who had in the +mean while assumed the more euphonious title of Sultan Soleiman. + +It was when Soleiman had attained the height of his glory that Major +Slade's party entered Yunnan, and it was with him as the governor _de +facto_ that the British commander entered into negotiations. Such a +proceeding, though it may have been necessary, was fatal to the further +progress of the expedition. The Chinese authorities naturally refused to +pass on a party that had, however innocently, entered into friendly +relations with its rebellious subjects. Major Slade had the good sense +to understand this. The mission retraced its steps into Burmah, and the +exploration of the "trade route of the future" was indefinitely +postponed. + +The visit of the English party to Momien was the signal for a rapid +downfall of Soleiman's power. The imperial government, seriously alarmed +at the practical recognition of the rebels' independence by an outside +power, now put forth all its might to reëstablish its authority. It was +successful. + +Under the energetic command of one Li-sieh-tai, a famous general who had +once himself been a rebel, the Chinese armies wrested back the country, +foot by foot, to its former governors. In 1872 Tali-fu, the last and +most important stronghold of the rebellion, was closely invested. After +a desperate resistance, it was obliged to open its gates. + +The end of Soleiman was dramatic in the extreme. He was told that his +followers should be spared if he himself would surrender. He agreed to +the terms, and, after administering a dose of poison to himself, his +three wives and five children, he mounted his chair, and was borne to +the camp of his enemies, where he arrived a corpse sitting erect, the +imperial turban on his head and the keys of his capital clasped tightly +in his hand. His head, preserved in honey, was sent to Peking. The +imperial troops poured into Tali-fu. A general massacre occurred. Those +Mohammedans that were not slaughtered fled to the mountains, where they +still continued to keep up a guerilla warfare. But the rebellion was +practically at an end, and by 1874 the authority of the central +government was firmly established throughout the province. + +The trade between Burmah and China, which had ceased almost entirely +during the long years of the rebellion, again sprang into activity, and +once more the attention of the Indian government was attracted to it. In +1874 a new expedition of exploration was prepared and placed under the +command of Colonel Browne. The consent of the King of Burmah was +obtained, and the British minister in Peking, Mr. Thomas Wade, was +instructed to explain the object of the mission to the Chinese +government, so that it might receive no opposition upon crossing the +Chinese frontier. It was also arranged that a special messenger should +be despatched from Peking across China to the frontier to act as +interpreter to the expedition, and to prepare the mandarins along the +route for its approach. For this responsible and dangerous service, +Augustus Raymond Margary was selected--a young man attached to the +English consular department, a perfect master of the Chinese language +and customs, and a fine type of the best class of young Englishmen. + +Provided with the necessary passports from the British minister, +countersigned by the Tsung-li-yamen, the Chinese foreign office, Mr. +Margary started on his journey. He went up the Yangtsze river as far as +Hankow in one of the huge American steamers of the Shanghai Steam +Navigation Company. At Hankow, on September 4, 1874, he bade good-by to +Western civilization, and, with a Chinese teacher and two or three +Chinese attendants, began his trip through a vast and populous country, +a _terra incognita_ to Europeans. + +His diary of this journey has recently been published. It is interesting +in the extreme, though devoid of those startling episodes that generally +give charm to accounts of travels in unexplored lands. + +He has no old theories to prove and no ambition to start new ones, but +simply jots down his impressions of people and things with no attempt at +elaboration. The result is, we have a plain, faithful, unvarnished +picture of Chinese life and manners, as seen by an intelligent, +unprejudiced man. Upon the whole, we think this picture most decidedly +favorable to the Chinese character. + +Did space permit, we should like to follow Mr. Margary, stage by stage, +through his long journey of 900 miles. The first part, through the +provinces of Yunnan and Kwei-chow as far as the city of Ch'en-yuan-fu, +was made by boat--a long and monotonous trip of four weeks, through a +country so picturesque that the "sight was at last completely satiated +with the perpetual view of the most glorious scenery that ever made the +human heart leap with wonder and delight." + +At Ch'en-yuan-fu he exchanged his boat for a chair, in which he +completed his journey; traversing Kwei-chow and Yunnan, and the +debatable hill land that lies between the latter province and Burmah; +arriving in Bhamo, on the Burmese side of the border, on January 17, +1875, where he joined the expedition of Colonel Browne that was +advancing to meet him. + +Except in two or three instances, he was treated with courtesy by the +people and respect by the officials. In the exceptional cases a display +of his Chinese passports sufficed to quickly change the demeanor of the +mandarins; while a few calm words of rebuke upon their want of +politeness generally caused popular mobs to disperse abashed. An +instance of this is given by him in his account of his stay at Lo-shan, +a small naval station on the Yangtsze. In returning from a visit to the +mandarin of the place, he was surrounded by a dense crowd of street +rabble, leaping and screaming like maniacs, and shouting to one another: +"I say! Come along. Here's a foreigner. What a lark! Ha, ha, ha!" +Margary descended from his chair and delivered a short address: + +"Why _do_ you crowd round me in this rude manner? Is this your courtesy +to strangers? I have often heard it said that China was of all things +distinguished for civility and courtesy. But am I to take this as a +specimen of it? Shall I go back and tell my countrymen that your boasted +civility only amounts to rudeness?" "I was astonished," he adds, "at the +effect this speech produced. They listened with silence, and when I had +done walked quietly back quite abashed. Only a few remained; and over +and again after this many an irrepressible youngster was severely +rebuked for any sign of disrespect by his elders." + +Contrast this with the effect which such a speech as that of Margary's, +delivered by a Chinaman, would have had upon an English or American mob, +and we cannot repress a slight feeling of sympathy with the natives of +the Flowery Kingdom when they call us "outside barbarians." + +His Chinese letters of recommendation, given him by the Tsung-li-yamen +to the viceroys of the three great provinces through which he passed, +proved of inestimable value. In the viceroy of Yunnan especially he +found an unexpected ally and friend, who issued instructions to the +officials all along the road to receive the foreigner with the utmost +respect. The extent to which these instructions were carried out +depended, of course, very largely on the temperament of the local +mandarins. "Some were obsequious, others reserved, but most of them met +me with high bred courtesy worthy of praise, and such as befits a +welcome from man to man." + +"Taking all these experiences together," says Sir Rutherford Alcock, +formerly British minister to China, a gentleman by no means inclined to +judge Chinese officials favorably, "the impression left is decidedly to +the advantage of the central government so far as the _bona fides_ of +the safe-conduct given is concerned." + +A great deal of Margary's success was also undoubtedly due to his +personal magnetism and thorough acquaintance with Chinese habits. +Indeed, no one can read this diary without deriving from it a high idea +of the genuine attractiveness and solidity of the author's character. In +sickness, in trouble, in delay, in vexation, there runs through it all a +refreshing, manly, Anglo-Saxon spirit. Knowing as we do what is coming, +we find ourselves involuntarily catching with hope at little incidents +that seem to delay onward march. Reading these pages, it is impossible +to realize that he who wrote them is dead. It is with a mournful feeling +of utter and fatalistic helplessness that we follow this young and +generous hero while he travels, all unconsciously, down to his death. To +the very last all seems to go well with him. At Manwyne, the last city +on his journey, the renowned and dreaded Li-sieh-tai, the suppressor of +the Mohammedan rebellion, actually prostrated himself before him and +paid him the highest honors, warning the assembled chiefs of the savage +hill people that they had best take good care of the stranger, as he +came protected by an imperial passport. + +On the 16th of February, 1875, Colonel Browne's expedition, accompanied +by Margary, broke up their camp at Tsitkaw, in Burmah, and advanced +toward the Chinese frontier. + +Arrangements had been made with the practically independent chieftains +of this wild region for the safe passage of the party through the hilly +country. As it advanced, however, ominous rumors of a projected attack +by the hill savages and Chinese frontiersmen reached the ears of its +members. Though these rumors were generally discredited, it was thought +best to send forward Margary as a pioneer, he being well known to the +people and officials of the Chinese border town of Manwyne. Margary +willingly undertook the mission. With his Chinese teacher and +attendants, he hastened on in advance, the rest of the expedition +following more slowly. The last communications that came from him were +dated "Seray," a town just inside the Chinese frontier. He reported that +thus far the road was unmolested and the people civil. On the strength +of these advices, Colonel Browne pressed on, crossed the Chinese +frontier, and advanced as far as Seray. It was here, on the morning of +February 21, that Margary and his attendants had all been murdered, near +Manwyne. + +Hardly had the news been communicated when it was found that the +expedition was surrounded by a large body of armed men, who instantly +began an attack. The assailants, a motley crowd of Kakhyens and Chinese +border men, were soon repulsed; but as reports came streaming in that +large bodies of Chinese train bands were advancing to their aid, it was +thought best to beat a retreat. This was safely effected, and by the +26th of February the expedition found itself once more at Bhamo. Thus +mournfully ended the second attempt to explore "the trade route of the +future." + + * * * * * + +The mere fact that a British subject had been murdered, and a British +exploring expedition attacked on Chinese soil, would in itself have +created a grave subject for diplomatic discussion between the +governments of England and China. But the matter was rendered doubly +serious by the presence of many circumstances tending to show that the +outrage had been committed with the tacit connivance, if not at the +direct instigation, of the provincial authorities of Yunnan. The whole +affair, it was claimed, was not the result of an outbreak of +booty-seeking savages, but the culmination of a systematic plot on the +part of the Chinese officials. + +In laying the matter before Prince Kung, Mr. Wade, the English minister, +plainly implied that such was his opinion, and demanded from the Chinese +government the promptest and most searching investigation. + +An imperial decree was at once issued, commanding the governor of Yunnan +to proceed at once to the spot and enter upon a thorough examination of +the case. Mr. Wade, however, demanded some securer guarantee that strict +justice should be done. He submitted to the Tsung-li-yamen an ultimatum +containing three principal conditions: that such British officials as he +might see fit to appoint should go to Yunnan and assist at the +investigation; that passports should be immediately issued, to enable +another expedition to enter Yunnan by the same route; and that a sum of +$150,000 be placed in his hands as a guarantee of good faith. The +Chinese government demurred at first to these demands, but the threat of +Mr. Wade to leave Peking unless they were accepted before a certain day +finally caused it to give a reluctant consent. Some months were then +spent in diplomatic wrangling over the conditions under which the +British officials should proceed to Yunnan, and what their powers should +be on their arrival there. The Chinese government showed, in the opinion +of Mr. Wade, a strong desire to avoid fulfilling its part of the +contract. The negotiations on several occasions assumed an acute +character of danger. Both parties prepared for war. The English minister +concentrated the English fleet in the China seas; the Chinese government +bought up large supplies of arms and ammunition. But Prince Kung and his +advisers had the good sense to see that the chances in a struggle of +arms would be too unequal, and always submitted at the last moment. At +last the Chinese government, having agreed to all the preliminary +conditions, and having also despatched a high officer, Li-hang-chang, to +Yunnan to thoroughly investigate the affair, "without regard to +persons," the British minister agreed to let the English mission of +investigation proceed. Mr. Grosvenor, a secretary of legation, was +placed at its head. Li-hang-chang went on in advance. + +This high official seems to have done his duty in a spirit of strict +impartiality. His reports to the government make no attempt to conceal +the guilt of the provincial officials, or to shield them from deserved +punishment. He immediately ordered the arrest of the general commanding +at Momien and a number of other local officers, pushing his inquiries +with vigor and with what appears a sincere desire to arrive at the +ground facts. In the course of his labors he came to the conclusion that +Li-sieh-tai, whom we have already mentioned, was one of the instigators, +probably the chief one, of the attack on the mission. He at once +memorialized the throne to have him arrested and brought up for trial. +In this memorial he gives what seems to us, upon an unprejudiced +comparison of testimony, the truest version of the affair. He believes +the murder of Margary and his attendants to have been the work of +"lawless offenders," greedy of gain, but that the attack upon Colonel +Browne's party was made at the secret instigation of Li-sieh-tai and +other provincial officials, although that general was not on the spot, +nor were there any soldiers concerned in the assault. He shows that +Li-sieh-tai had already written to the governor of Yunnan, telling him +that he (Li) was "taking vigorous measures to protect the region against +invasion," and that the governor had written back commanding him to stop +all further proceedings and quiet the apprehensions of the people. This +command, however, was not received until after the murder and attack had +taken place. "It appears from this, consequently" (the report adds), +"that although Li-sieh-tai had no intention of committing murder, he is +liable to a charge of having laid plans to obstruct the expedition; and +your servants have agreed, after taking counsel together, that he should +not be suffered to take advantage of his official rank as a cover for +lying evasions, gaining time with false statements, in dread of +incurring punishment." + +Immediately upon receipt of this memorial a decree appeared in the +Peking "Gazette" ordering Li-sieh-tai to be degraded from his rank, and +commanding him to proceed at once to Yunnan for trial before the high +commission. + +As we have said before, we think Li-hang-chang's account is +substantially correct. There are a great many circumstances tending to +exculpate Li-sieh-tai from any wish to have Margary murdered. Had such +been his wish, he might more easily have disposed of him when he passed +through _en route_ for Burmah. Moreover, at the very time of Margary's +murder, Mr. Elias, a member of the expedition, who had struck off from +the main body in order to explore another route to Momien, was +entertained by Li-sieh-tai at Muangnow, a town at some distance from the +seat of the murder. Though completely in his power, Mr. Elias received +all possible civility compatible with a determined and successful +opposition to his further advance. Now it seems absurd to believe that +Li-sieh-tai felt any stronger personal dislike for Margary than he felt +for Mr. Elias. + +In regard to his complicity in the attack on the expedition, the +evidence is just as strong on the other side. He had a deep and by no +means unnatural prejudice against English exploring parties. The last +mission of the kind had entered into negotiations, as we have already +mentioned, with the enemies against whom this Chinese general was +prosecuting bitter war. The smouldering embers of the rebellion were not +even yet entirely extinguished; the presence of an armed body of +foreigners, no matter how small, who had previously shown a friendly +disposition toward the Mohammedan usurpation, might awaken new hopes in +the breasts of the still surviving rebels. This feeling, combined with +the jealous wish of the border merchants, both Chinese and Burmese, to +retain a monopoly of the overland trade, undoubtedly inspired a general +feeling of hostility among the local officials and the people, which +found a ready instrument in the greedy and savage character of the +frontier tribes. Where so much combustible matter was heaped up, it +needed but a hint to bring on the catastrophe that followed. + +While Li-hang-chang and the Chinese commission were conducting the +preliminary investigations, Mr. Grosvenor and his colleagues were +approaching. Their journey across the empire was attended not only with +no opposition or difficulty, but they were received everywhere with +great and even obsequious respect. Upon arriving in Yunnan they found an +immense pile of evidence awaiting their inspection. Mr. Grosvenor's +report has not yet been published, we believe, but from general rumor, +and the fact that nothing has been heard to the contrary, we are +justified in believing that he found the state of the case to be +substantially as it was reported by the Chinese high commissioner. After +having reviewed the evidence presented, after having witnessed the +execution of a number of wretches convicted of direct complicity in the +murder of Margary, the Grosvenor commission pursued its way, escorted by +troops that had been despatched from Burmah for the purpose. + +Diplomatic negotiations were once more transferred to Peking, and turned +upon the compensation to be offered by China for the violation of +international law that had occurred upon her soil. The demands of the +British minister, who had in the mean time been knighted as Sir Thomas +Wade by the Queen, as a just acknowledgment of his efficient services, +were considered too severe by the Chinese government, and at one time it +looked as if all further negotiations would be broken off. + +Sir Thomas finally carried his threat to leave Peking into execution. +Prince Kung had evidently not expected so decided a step, and was +seriously alarmed by it, for the Chinese government have shown +throughout the affair a very wise disposition not to push matters to the +last extreme. Li-wang-chang (a brother, we believe, of the official who +was sent to Yunnan), the governor of the province of Chihli, the highest +and most powerful statesman in the country, was immediately granted +extraordinary powers, and sent after the English minister. After some +diplomatic fencing Sir Thomas agreed to meet the Chinese envoy at +Chefoo--a seaport about half way between Shanghai and Peking, a great +summer resort of the foreigners in China--the Newport of the eastern +world. Here, in the month of September, 1876, with much surrounding pomp +and ceremony, a convention was signed between the English and the +Chinese plenipotentiaries. The final settlement of the difficulty was +celebrated by a grand banquet, given by Li-wang-chang to Sir Thomas and +the other foreign ambassadors, who had been drawn to Chefoo by their +interest in the negotiations. + +The following is a synopsis of the agreement: + + 1. An imperial edict to be published throughout the Chinese + empire, setting forth the facts of the affair, subject to the + directions and approval of the British minister. + + 2. Consular officials to visit the various towns and public + places to see that the said imperial edict is posted where all + can see it. + + 3. The family of Margary to be paid about $250,000 indemnity. + + 4. A further indemnity to be given, covering all expenses of + the unsuccessful expedition under Colonel Browne. + + 5. A special embassy of apology to be sent to England. + +Then follow a number of concessions with regard to placing on a better +footing the relations of foreign ambassadors to the Chinese authorities, +the enlargement of the foreign settlement at Shanghai, etc. + +But by far the most important clause is that opening up to foreign trade +four new ports on the Yangtsze river. This concession is virtually +equivalent to throwing open the whole interior of the country to foreign +merchants. + +Altogether the British minister has certainly won a triumph that well +deserved a knighthood. + +Undoubtedly he had a very strong indictment against the Chinese +authorities, although we cannot help regarding the matter of the murder +and the attack as more the misfortune than the fault of the central +government. Nevertheless, western nations are fully justified in rigidly +holding the Peking authorities responsible for any violation of +international duties committed anywhere within their jurisdiction; and +it is not only fair, but expedient, that when such cases do occur some +practical and important reparation should be made for them. The +concessions obtained by Sir Thomas Wade, though sweeping, are not, in +our opinion, excessive. On the other hand, the Chinese government by +granting them has fully satisfied the demands of justice. It could not +have gone further without losing the respect and incurring the dangerous +opposition of its people. Indeed, throughout the negotiations Prince +Kung and his advisers have had to contend against a powerful +anti-foreign party in the court and the nation. Strong fears were +entertained more than once that the reactionary element would get the +upper hand. Some idea of Prince Kung's difficulties may be conceived +when we read that one morning the walls of Peking were found covered +with placards bitterly denouncing the policy of the government, and +calling upon all good subjects to rise up against such unpatriotic +leaders. + +When Li-wang-chang, who enjoys great popularity in his province, was en +route for Chefoo to negotiate with Sir Thomas Wade, the people of +Tien-tsin made the most determined efforts to prevent him from going +further. For a time he was literally besieged in his own _yamen_, and it +was only by the publication of a proclamation warning the people that +they were guilty of rebellion against the emperor when they hindered the +progress of his representatives, that the opposition was withdrawn. + +Sir Thomas deserves the highest praise for going just far enough and no +further in his demands. Yet the last mail from China brings the news +that the foreign residents there are intensely dissatisfied with the +result of the settlement. This was to be expected. Any settlement short +of one effected by war would have met the disapproval of these gentry. +The interests of the Chinese and the foreign merchants are too +antagonistic to admit of impartial judgment on questions of this sort. +England, in their opinion, could gain greater concessions by war than by +negotiations--ergo, they would have all such troubles settled by "blood +and iron." + +The London "Times" puts it very well when it says: + +"Those Englishmen who reside in the treaty ports are not impartial +judges of the concessions. Too often they go to Canton or Shanghai in a +frame of mind that would exasperate a much less vain people than the +Chinese. They sometimes talk as if they thought it a mere impertinence +on the part of an inferior race to have a pride of its own, and they act +as if the chief end of the Chinese were to minister to the demands of +British trade." + + WALTER A. BURLINGAME. + + + + +THE LETTERS OF HONORÉ DE BALZAC. + + +The first feeling of the reader of the two volumes which have lately +been published under the foregoing title is that he has almost done +wrong to read them. He reproaches himself with having taken a shabby +advantage of a person who is unable to defend himself. He feels as one +who has broken open a cabinet or rummaged an old desk. The contents of +Balzac's letters are so private, so personal, so exclusively his own +affairs and those of no one else, that the generous critic constantly +lays them down with a sort of dismay, and asks himself in virtue of what +peculiar privilege, or what newly discovered principle it is, that he is +thus burying his nose in them. Of course he presently reflects that he +has not broken open a cabinet nor violated a desk, but that these +repositories have been very freely and confidently emptied into his lap. +The two stout volumes of the "Correspondence de H. de Balzac, +1819-1850,"[1] lately put forth, are remarkable, like many other French +books of the same sort, for the almost complete absence of editorial +explanation or introduction. They have no visible sponsor; only a few +insignificant lines of preface and the scantiest possible supply of +notes. Such as the book is, in spite of its abruptness, we are thankful +for it; in spite, too, of our bad conscience. What we mean by our bad +conscience is the feeling with which we see the last remnant of charm, +of the graceful and the agreeable, removed from Balzac's literary +physiognomy. His works had not left much of this favoring shadow, but +the present publication has let in the garish light of full publicity. +The grossly, inveterately professional character of all his activity, +the absence of leisure, of contemplation, of disinterested experience, +the urgency of his consuming money-hunger--all this is rudely exposed. +It is always a question whether we have a right to investigate a man's +life for the sake of anything but his official utterances--his results. +The picture of Balzac's career which is given in these letters is a +record of little else but painful processes, unrelieved by reflections +or speculations, by any moral or intellectual emanation. To prevent +misconception, however, we hasten to add that they tell no disagreeable +secrets; they contain nothing for the lovers of scandal. Balzac was a +very honest man, but he was a man almost tragically uncomfortable, and +the unsightly underside of his discomfort stares us full in the face. +Still, if his personal portrait is without ideal beauty, it is by no +means without a certain brightness, or at least a certain richness of +coloring. Huge literary ogre as he was, he was morally nothing of a +monster. His heart was capacious, and his affections vigorous; he was +powerful, coarse, and kind. + +The first letter in the series is addressed to his elder sister, Laure, +who afterward became Mme. de Surville, and who, after her illustrious +brother's death, published in a small volume some agreeable +reminiscences of him. For this lady he had, especially in his early +years, a passionate affection. He had in 1819 come up to Paris from +Touraine, in which province his family lived, to seek his fortune as a +man of letters. The episode is a strange and gloomy one. His vocation +for literature had not been favorably viewed at home, where money was +scanty; but the parental consent, or rather the parental tolerance, was +at last obtained for his experiment. The future author of the "Père +Goriot" was at this time but twenty years of age, and in the way of +symptoms of genius had nothing but a very robust self-confidence to +show. His family, who had to contribute to his support while his +masterpieces were a-making, appear to have regretted, the absence of +further guarantees. He came to Paris, however, and lodged in a garret, +where the allowance made him by his father kept him neither from +shivering nor from nearly starving. The situation had been arranged in a +way very characteristic of French manners. The fact that Honoré had gone +to Paris was kept a secret from the friends of the family, who were told +that he was on a visit to a cousin in the South. He was on probation, +and if he failed to acquire literary renown, his excursion should be +hushed up. This pious fraud did not contribute to the comfort of the +young scribbler, who was afraid to venture abroad by day lest he should +be seen by an acquaintance of the family. Balzac must have been at this +time miserably poor. If he goes to the theatre, he has to pay for the +pleasure by fasting. He wishes to see Talma (having to go to the play, +to keep up the fiction of his being in the South, in a latticed box). "I +shall end by giving in.... My stomach already trembles." Meanwhile he +was planning a tragedy of "Cromwell," which came to nothing, and writing +the "Héritière de Birague," his first novel, which he sold for one +hundred and sixty dollars. Through these early letters, in spite of his +chilly circumstances, there flows a current of youthful ardor, gayety, +and assurance. Some passages in his letters to his sister are a sort of +explosion of animal spirits: + + Ah, my sister, what torments it gives us--the love of glory! + Long live grocers! they sell all day, count their gains in the + evening, take their pleasure from time to time at some + frightful melodrama--and behold them happy! Yes, but they pass + their time between cheese and soap. Long live rather men of + letters! Yes, but these are all beggars in pocket, and rich + only in conceit. Well, let us leave them all alone, and long + live every one! + +Elsewhere he scribbles: "Farewell, _soror_! I hope to have a letter +_sororis_ to answer _sorori_, then to see _sororem_," etc. Later, after +his sister is married, he addresses her as "_the box that contains +everything pleasing; the elixir of virtue, grace, and beauty; the jewel, +the phenomenon of Normandy; the pearl of Bayeux, the fairy of St. +Lawrence, the virgin of the Rue Teinture, the guardian angel of Caen, +the goddess of enchantments, the treasure of friendship_." + +We shall continue to quote, without the fear of our examples exceeding, +in the long run, our commentary. "Find me some widow, a rich heiress," +he writes to his sister at Bayeux, whither her husband had taken her to +live. "You know what I mean. Only brag about me. Twenty-two years old, a +good fellow, good manners, a bright eye, fire, the best dough for a +husband that heaven has ever kneaded. I will give you five per cent. on +the dowry." "Since yesterday," he writes in another letter, "I have +given up dowagers and have come down to widows of thirty. Send all you +find to Lord Rhoone [this remarkable improvisation was one of his early +_noms de plume_]; that's enough--he is known at the city limits. Take +notice. They are to be sent prepaid, without crack or repair, and they +are to be rich and amiable. Beauty isn't required. The varnish goes, and +the bottom of the pot remains!" + +Like many other young men of ability, Balzac felt the little rubs--or +the great ones--of family life. His mother figures largely in these +volumes (she survived her glorious son), and from the scattered +reflection of her idiosyncrasies the attentive reader constructs a +sufficiently vivid portrait. She was the old middle-class Frenchwoman +whom he has so often seen--devoted, active, meddlesome, parsimonious, +exacting veneration, and expending zeal. Honoré tells his sister: + + The other day, coming back from Paris much bothered, it never + occurred to me to thank _maman_ for a black coat which she had + had made for me; at my age one isn't particularly sensitive to + such a present. Nevertheless, it would not have cost me much to + seem touched by the attention, especially as it was a + sacrifice. But I forgot it. _Maman_ began to pout, and you know + what her aspect and her face amount to at those moments. I fell + from the clouds, and racked my brain to know what I had done. + Happily Laurence [his younger sister] came and notified me, + and two or three words as fine as amber mended _maman's_ + countenance. The thing is nothing--a mere drop of water; but + it's to give you an example of our manners. Ah, we are a jolly + set of originals in our holy family. What a pity I can't put us + into novels! + +His father wished to find him an opening in some profession, and the +thought of being made a notary was a bugbear to the young man: "Think of +me as dead, if they cap me with that extinguisher." And yet, in the next +sentence, he breaks out into a cry of desolate disgust at the aridity of +his actual circumstances: "They call this mechanical rotation +living--this perpetual return of the same things. If there were only +something to throw some charm or other over my cold existence. I have +none of the flowers of life, and yet I am in the season in which they +bloom. What will be the use of fortune and pleasures when my youth has +departed? What need of the garments of an actor if one no longer plays a +part? An old man is a man who has dined, and who watches others eat; and +I, young as I am--my plate is empty, and I am hungry. Laure, Laure, my +two only and immense desires, _to be famous and to be loved_--will they +ever be satisfied?" + +These occasional bursts of confidence in his early letters to his sister +are (with the exception of certain excellent pages, addressed in the +last years of his life to the lady he eventually married) Balzac's most +delicate, most emotional utterances. There is a touch of the ideal in +them. Later, one wonders where he keeps his ideal. He has one of course, +artistically, but it never peeps out. He gives up talking sentiment, and +he never discusses "subjects"; he only talks business. Meanwhile, +however, at this period, business was increasing with him. He agrees to +write three novels for eight hundred and twenty dollars. Here begins the +inextricable mystery of Balzac's literary promises, pledges, projects, +and contracts. His letters form a swarming register of schemes and +bargains through which he passes like a hero of the circus, riding half +a dozen piebald coursers at once. We confess that in this matter we have +been able to keep no sort of account; the wonder is that Balzac should +have accomplished the feat himself. After the first year or two of his +career, we never see him working upon a single tale; his productions +dovetail and overlap, and dance attendance upon each other in the most +bewildering fashion. As soon as one novel is fairly on the stocks he +plunges into another, and while he is rummaging in this with one hand, +he stretches out a heroic arm and breaks ground in a third. His plans +are always vastly in advance of his performance; his pages swarm with +titles of books that were never to be written. The title circulates with +such an assurance that we are amazed to find, fifty pages later, that +there is no more of it than of the cherubic heads. With this, Balzac was +constantly paid in advance by his publishers--paid for works not begun, +or barely begun; and the money was as constantly spent before the +equivalent had been delivered. Meanwhile more money was needed, and new +novels were laid out to obtain it; but prior promises had first to be +kept. Keeping them, under these circumstances, was not an exhilarating +process; and readers familiar with Balzac will reflect with wonder that +these were yet the circumstances in which some of his best tales were +written. They were written, as it were, in the fading light, by a man +who saw night coming on, and yet couldn't afford to buy candles. He +could only hurry. But Balzac's way of hurrying was all his own; it was a +sternly methodical haste, and might have been mistaken, in a more +lightly-weighted genius, for elaborate trifling. The close tissue of his +work never relaxed; he went on doggedly and insistently, pressing it +down and packing it together, multiplying erasures, alterations, +repetitions, transforming proof-sheets, quarrelling with editors, +enclosing subject within subject, accumulating notes upon notes. + +The letters make a jump from 1822 to 1827, during which interval he had +established, with borrowed capital, a printing house, and seen his +enterprise completely fail. This failure saddled him with a mountain of +debt which pressed upon him crushingly for years, and of which he rid +himself only toward the close of his life. Balzac's debts are another +labyrinth in which we do not profess to hold a clue. There is scarcely a +page of these volumes in which they are not alluded to, but the reader +never quite understands why they should bloom so perennially. The +liabilities incurred by the collapse of the printing scheme can hardly +have been so vast as not to have been for the most part cancelled by ten +years of heroic work. Balzac appears not to have been extravagant; he +had neither wife nor children (unlike many of his comrades, he had no +illegitimate offspring), and when he admits us to a glimpse of his +domestic economy, we usually find it to be of a very meagre pattern. He +writes to his sister in 1827 that he has not the means either to pay the +postage of letters or to use omnibuses, and that he goes out as little +as possible, so as not to wear out his clothes. In 1829, however, we +find him in correspondence with a duchess, Mme. d'Abrantès, the widow of +Junot, Napoleon's rough marshal, and author of those voluminous memoirs +upon the imperial court which it was the fashion to read in the early +part of the century. The Duchess d'Abrantès wrote bad novels, like +Balzac himself at this period, and the two became good friends. + +The year 1830 was the turning point in Balzac's career. Renown, to which +he had begun to lay siege in Paris in 1820, now at last began to show +symptoms of self-surrender. Yet one of the strongest expressions of +discontent and despair in the pages before us belongs to this brighter +moment. It is also one of the finest passages: + + Sacredieu, my good friend, I believe that literature, in the + day we live in, is no better than the trade of a woman of the + town, who prostitutes herself for a dollar. It leads to + nothing. I have an itch to go off and wander and explore, make + of my life a drama, risk my life; for, as for a few miserable + years more or less!... Oh, when one looks at these great skies + of a beautiful night, one is ready to unbutton---- + +But the modesty of the English tongue forbids us to translate the rest +of the phrase. Dean Swift might have related how Balzac wished to +express his contempt for all the royalties of the earth. Now that he is +in the country, he goes on: + + I have been seeing real splendors, such as fine, sound fruit + and gilded insects; I have been quite turning philosopher, and + if I happen to tread upon an anthill, I say, like that immortal + Bonaparte, "These creatures are men: what is it to Saturn, or + Venus, or the North Star?" And then my philosopher comes down + to scribble "items" for a newspaper. _Proh pudor!_ And so it + seems to me that the ocean, a brig, and an English vessel to + sink, if you must sink yourself to do it, are rather better + than a writing-desk, a pen, and the Rue St. Denis. + +But Balzac was fastened to the writing desk. In 1831 he tells one of his +correspondents that he is working fifteen or sixteen hours a day. Later, +in 1837, he describes himself repeatedly as working eighteen hours out +of the twenty-four. In the midst of all this (it seems singular), he +found time for visions of public life, of political distinction. In a +letter written in 1830 he gives a succinct statement of his political +views, from which we learn that he approved of the French monarchy +having a constitution, and of instruction being diffused among the lower +orders. But he desired that the people should be kept "under the most +powerful yoke possible," so that in spite of their instruction they +should not become disorderly. It is fortunate, probably, both for Balzac +and for France, that his political rôle was limited to the production of +a certain number of forgotten editorials in newspapers; but we may be +sure that his dreams of statesmanship were brilliant and audacious. +Balzac indulged in no dreams that were not. + +Some of his best letters are addressed to Mme. Zulma Carraud, a lady +whose acquaintance he had made through his sister Laure, of whom she +was an intimate friend, and whose friendship (exerted almost wholly +through letters, as she always lived in the country) appears to have +been one of the brightest and most salutary influences of his life. He +writes to her in 1832: + + There are vocations which we must obey, and something + irresistible draws me on to glory and power. It is not a happy + life. There is within me the worship of woman (_le culte de la + femme_), and a need of love which has never been fully + satisfied. Despairing of ever being loved and understood by + such a woman as I have dreamed of, having met her only under + one form, that of the heart, I throw myself into the + tempestuous sphere of political passions and into the stormy + and desiccating atmosphere of literary glory. I shall fail + perhaps on both sides; but, believe me, if I have wished to + live the life of the age itself, instead of running my course + in happy obscurity, it is just because the pure happiness of + mediocrity has failed me. When one has a fortune to make, it is + better to make it great and illustrious; because, pain for + pain, it is better to suffer in a high sphere than in a low + one, and I prefer dagger blows to pin pricks. + +All this, though written at thirty years of age, is rather juvenile; +there was to be much less of the "tempest" in Balzac's life than is here +foreshadowed. He was tossed and shaken a great deal, as we all are, by +the waves of the time, but he was too stoutly anchored at his work to +feel the winds. + +In 1832 "Louis Lambert" followed the "Peau de Chagrin," the first in the +long list of his masterpieces. He describes "Louis Lambert" as "a work +in which I have striven to rival Goethe and Byron, Faust and Manfred. I +don't know whether I shall succeed, but the fourth volume of the +'Philosophical Tales' must be a last reply to my enemies and give the +presentiment of an incontestable superiority. You must therefore forgive +the poor artist his fatigue [he is writing to his sister], his +discouragements, and especially his momentary detachment from any sort +of interest that does not belong to his subject. 'Louis Lambert' has +cost me so much work! To write this book I have had to read so many +books! Some day or other, perhaps, it will throw science into new paths. +If I had made it a purely learned work, it would have attracted the +attention of thinkers, who now will not drop their eyes upon it. But if +chance puts it into their hands, perhaps they will speak of it!" In this +passage there is an immense deal of Balzac--of the great artist who was +so capable at times of self-deceptive charlatanism. "Louis Lambert," as +a whole, is now quite unreadable; it contains some admirable +descriptions, but the "scientific" portion is mere fantastic verbiage. +There is something extremely characteristic in the way Balzac speaks of +its having been optional with him to make it a "purely learned" work. +His pretentiousness was simply colossal, and there is nothing surprising +in his wearing the mask even _en famille_ (the letter we have just +quoted from is, as we have said, to his sister); he wore it during his +solitary fifteen-hours sessions in his study. But the same letter +contains another passage, of a very different sort, which is in its way +as characteristic: + + Yes, you are right. My progress is real, and my infernal + courage will be rewarded. Persuade my mother of this too, dear + sister; tell her to give me her patience in charity; her + devotion will be laid up in her favor. One day, I hope, a + little glory will pay her for everything. Poor mother, that + imagination of hers which she has given me throws her for ever + from north to south and from south to north. Such journeys tire + us; I know it myself! Tell my mother that I love her as when I + was a child. As I write you these lines my tears start--tears + of tenderness and despair; for I feel the future, and I need + this devoted mother on the day of triumph! When shall I reach + it? Take good care of our mother, Laure, for the present and + the future.... Some day, when my works are unfolded, you will + see that it must have taken many hours to think and write so + many things; and then you will absolve me of everything that + has displeased you, and you will excuse, not the selfishness of + the man (the man has none), but the selfishness of the worker. + +Nothing can be more touching than that; Balzac's natural affections were +as robust as his genius and his physical nature. The impression of the +reader of his letters quite confirms his assurance that the man proper +had no selfishness. Only we are constantly reminded that the man had +almost wholly resolved himself into the worker, and we remember a +statement of Sainte-Beuve's, in one of his malignant foot-notes, to the +effect that Balzac was "the grossest, greediest example of literary +vanity that he had ever known"--_l'amour-propre littéraire le plus avide +et le plus grossier que j'aie connu_. When we think of what Sainte-Beuve +must have known in this line, these few words acquire a portentous +weight. + +By this time (1832) Balzac was, in French phrase, thoroughly _lancé_. He +was doing, among other things, some of his most brilliant work, certain +of the "Contes Drôlatiques." These were written, as he tells his mother, +for relaxation, as a rest from harder labor. One would have said that no +work would have been much harder than compounding the marvellously +successful imitation of mediæval French in which these tales are +written. He had, however, other diversions as well. In the autumn of +1832 he was at Aix-les-Bains with the Duchess of Castries, a great lady, +and one of his kindest friends. He has been accused of drawing portraits +of great ladies without knowledge of originals; but Mme. de Castries was +an inexhaustible fund of instruction upon this subject. Three or four +years later, speaking of the story of the "Duchesse de Laugeais" to one +of his correspondents, another _femme du monde_, he tells her that as a +_femme du monde_ she is not to pretend to find flaws in the picture, a +high authority having read the proofs for the express purpose of +removing them. The authority is evidently the Duchess of Castries. + +Balzac writes to Mme. Carraud from Aix: "At Lyons I corrected 'Lambert' +again. I licked my cub, like a she bear.... On the whole, I am +satisfied; it is a work of profound melancholy and of science. Truly, I +deserve to have a mistress, and my sorrow at not having one increases +daily; for love is my life and my essence.... I have a simple little +room," he goes on, "from which I see the whole valley. I rise pitilessly +at five o'clock in the morning, and work before my window until +half-past five in the evening. My breakfast comes from the club--an egg. +Mme. de Castries has good coffee made for me. At six o'clock we dine +together, and I pass the evening with her. She is the finest type (_le +type le plus fin_) of woman; Mme. de Beauséant [from "Le Père Goriot"] +improved; only, are not all these pretty manners acquired at the expense +of the soul?" + +During his stay at Aix he met an excellent opportunity to go to Italy; +the Duke de Fitz-James, who was travelling southward, invited him to +become a member of his party. He discourses the economical problem (in +writing to his mother) with his usual intensity, and throws what will +seem to the modern traveller the light of enchantment upon that golden +age of cheapness. Occupying the fourth place in the carriage of the +Duchess of Castries, his quarter of the total travelling expenses from +Geneva to Rome (carriage, beds, food, etc.) was to be fifty dollars! But +he was ultimately prevented from joining the party. He went to Italy +some years later. + +He mentions, in 1833, that the chapter entitled "Juana," in the superb +tale of "The Maranas," as also the story of "La Grenadière," was written +in a single night. He gives at the same period this account of his +habits of work: "I must tell you that I am up to my neck in excessive +work. My life is mechanically arranged. I go to bed at six or seven in +the evening, with the chickens; I wake up at one in the morning and work +till eight; then I take something light, a cup of pure coffee, and get +into the shafts of my cab until four; I receive, I take a bath, or I go +out, and after dinner I go to bed. I must lead this life for some months +longer, in order not to be overwhelmed by my obligations. The profit +comes slowly; my debts are inexorable and fixed. Now, it is certain that +I will make a great fortune; but I must wait for it, and work for three +years. I must go over things, correct them again, put everything _en +état monumental_; thankless work, not counted, without immediate +profit." He speaks of working at this amazing rate for three years +longer; in reality he worked for fifteen. But two years after the +declaration we have just quoted, it seemed to him that he should break +down: "My poor sister, I am draining the cup to the dregs. It is in vain +that I work my fourteen hours a day; I can't do enough. While I write +this to you I find myself so weary that I have just sent Auguste to take +back my word from certain engagements that I had formed. I am so weak +that I have advanced my dinner hour in order to go to bed earlier; and I +go nowhere." The next year he writes to his mother, who had apparently +complained of his silence: "My good mother, do me the charity to let me +carry my burden without suspecting my heart. A letter for me, you see, +is not only money, but an hour of sleep and a drop of blood." + +We spoke just now of Balzac's sentimental consolations; but it appears +that at times he was more acutely conscious of what he missed than of +what he enjoyed. "As for the soul," he writes to Mme. Carraud in 1833, +"I am profoundly sad. My work alone sustains me in life. Is there then +to be no woman for me in this world? My physical melancholy and _ennui_ +last longer and grow more frequent. To fall from this crushing labor to +nothing--not to have near me that soft, caressing mind of woman, for +whom I have done so much!" He had, however, a devoted feminine friend, +to whom none of the letters in these volumes are addressed, but who is +several times alluded to. This lady, Mme. de Berny, died in 1836, and +Balzac speaks of her ever afterward with extraordinary tenderness and +veneration. But if there had been a passion between them, it was only a +passionate friendship. "Ah, my dear mother," he writes on New Year's +day, 1836, "I am harrowed with grief. Mme. de Berny is dying; it is +impossible to doubt it. No one but God and myself knows what my despair +is. And I must work--work while I weep!" He writes of Mme. de Berny at +the time of her death as follows. The letter is addressed to a lady with +whom he was in correspondence more or less sentimental, but whom he +never saw: "The person whom I have lost was more than a mother, more +than a friend, more than any creature can be for another. The term +_divinity_ only can explain her. She had sustained me by word, by act, +by devotion, during my worst weather. If I live, it is by her; she was +everything for me. Although for two years illness and time had separated +us, we were visible at a distance for each other. She reacted upon me; +she was a moral sun. Mme. de Mortsauf, in the 'Lys dans la Vallée,' is a +pale expression of this person's slightest qualities." Three years +afterward he writes to his sister: "I am alone against all my troubles, +and formerly, to help me to resist them, I had with me the sweetest and +bravest person in the world; a woman who every day is born again in my +heart, and whose divine qualities make the friendships that are compared +with hers seem pale. I have now no adviser in my literary difficulties; +I have no guide but the fatal thought, 'What would she say if she were +living?'" And he goes on to enumerate some of his actual and potential +friends. He tells his sister that she herself might have been for him a +close intellectual comrade if her duties of wife and mother had not +given her too many other things to think about. The same is true of Mme. +Carraud: "Never has a more extraordinary mind been more smothered; she +will die in her corner unknown! George Sand," he continues, "would +speedily be my friend; she has no pettiness whatever in her soul--none +of the low jealousies which obscure so many contemporary talents. Dumas +resembles her in this; but she has not the critical sense. Mme. Hanska +is all this; but I cannot weigh upon her destiny." Mme. Hanska was the +Polish lady whom he ultimately married, and of whom we shall speak. +Meanwhile, for a couple of years (1836 and 1837), he carried on an +exchange of opinions, of the order that the French call _intimes_, with +the unseen correspondent to whom we have alluded, and who figures in +these volumes as "Louise." The letters, however, are not love letters; +Balzac, indeed, seems chiefly occupied in calming the ardor of the lady, +who was evidently a woman of social distinction. "Don't have any +friendship for me," he writes; "I need too much. Like all people who +struggle, suffer, and work, I am exacting, mistrustful, wilful, +capricious.... If I had been a woman, I should have loved nothing so +much as some soul buried like a well in the desert--discovered only when +you place yourself directly under the star which indicates it to the +thirsty Arab." + +His first letter to Mme. Hanska here given bears the date of 1835; but +we are informed in a note that he had at that moment been for some time +in correspondence with her. The correspondence had begun, if we are not +mistaken, on Mme. Hanska's side, before they met; she had written to him +as a literary admirer. She was a Polish lady of great fortune, with an +invalid husband. After her husband's death, projects of marriage defined +themselves more vividly, but practical considerations kept them for a +long time in the background. Balzac had first to pay off his debts, and +Mme. Hanska, as a Polish subject of the Czar Nicholas, was not in a +position to marry from one day to another. The growth of their intimacy +is, however, amply reflected in these volumes, and the dénouement +presents itself with a certain dramatic force. Balzac's letters to his +future wife, as to every one else, deal almost exclusively with his +financial situation. He discusses the details of this matter with all +his correspondents, who apparently have--or are expected to have--his +monetary entanglements at their fingers' ends. It is a constant +enumeration of novels and tales begun or delivered, revised or bargained +for. The tone is always profoundly sombre and bitter. The reader's +general impression is that of lugubrious egotism. It is the rarest thing +in the world that there is an allusion to anything but Balzac's own +affairs, and to the most sordid details of his own affairs. Hardly an +echo of the life of his time, of the world he lived in, finds its way +into his letters; there are no anecdotes, no impressions, no opinions, +no descriptions, no allusions to things heard, people seen, emotions +felt--other emotions, at least, than those of the exhausted or the +exultant worker. The reason of all this is of course very obvious. A man +could not be such a worker as Balzac and be much else besides. The note +of animal spirits which we observed in his early letters is sounded much +less frequently as time goes on; although the extraordinary robustness +and exuberance of his temperament plays richly into his books. The +"Contes Drôlatiques" are full of it, and his conversation was also full +of it. But the letters constantly show us a man with the edge of his +spontaneity gone--a man groaning and sighing, as from Promethean lungs, +complaining of his tasks, denouncing his enemies, and in complete ill +humor generally with life. Of any expression of enjoyment of the world, +of the beauties of nature, art, literature, history, human character, +these pages are singularly destitute. And yet we know that such +enjoyment--instinctive, unreasoning, essential--is half the inspiration +of the poet. The truth is that Balzac was as little as possible of a +poet; he often speaks of himself as one, but he deserved the name as +little as his own Canalis or his own Rubempré. He was neither a poet nor +a moralist, though the latter title in France is often bestowed upon +him--a fact which strikingly helps to illustrate the Gallic lightness of +soil in the moral region. Balzac was the hardest and deepest of +_prosateurs_; the earth-scented facts of life, which the poet puts under +his feet, he had put above his head. Obviously there went on within him +a vast and constant intellectual unfolding. His mind must have had a +history of its own--a history of which it would be most interesting to +have an occasional glimpse. But the history is not related here, even in +glimpses. His books are full of ideas; his letters have almost none. It +is probably not unfair to argue from this fact that there were few ideas +that he greatly cared for. Making all allowance for the pressure and +tyranny of circumstances, we may believe that if he had greatly cared to +_se recueillir_, as the French say--greatly cared, in the Miltonic +phrase, "to interpose a little ease"--he would sometimes have found an +opportunity for it. Perpetual work, when it is joyous and salubrious, is +a very fine thing; but perpetual work, when it is executed with the +temper which more than half the time appears to have been Balzac's, has +in it something almost debasing. We constantly feel that his work would +have been vastly better if the Muse of "business" had been elbowed away +by her larger-browed sister. Balzac himself, doubtless, often felt in +the same way; but, on the whole, "business" was what he most cared for. +The "Comédie Humaine" represents an immense amount of joy, of +spontaneity, of irrepressible artistic life. Here and there in the +letters this occasionally breaks out in accents of mingled exultation +and despair. "Never," he writes in 1836, "has the torrent which bears me +along been more rapid; never has a work more majestically terrible +imposed itself upon the human brain. I go to my work as the gamester to +the gaming-table; I am sleeping now only five hours and working +eighteen; I shall arrive dead.... Write to me; be generous; take nothing +in bad part, for you don't know how, at moments, I deplore this life of +fire. But how can I jump out of the chariot?" We had occasion in +writing of Balzac in these pages more than a year ago[2] to say that his +great characteristic, far from being a passion for ideas, was a passion +for _things_. We said just now that his books are full of ideas; but we +must add that his letters make us feel that these ideas are themselves +in a certain sense "things." They are pigments, properties, frippery; +they are always concrete and available. Balzac cared for them only if +they would fit into his inkstand. + +He never "jumped out of his car"; but as the years went on he was able +at times to let the reins hang more loosely. There is no evidence that +he made the great fortune he had looked forward to; but he must have +made a great deal of money. In the beginning his work was very poorly +paid, but after his reputation was solidly established he received large +sums. It is true that they were swallowed up in great part by his +"debts"--that dusky, vaguely outlined, insatiable maw which we see +grimacing for ever behind him, like the face on a fountain which should +find itself receiving a stream instead of giving it out. But he +travelled (working all the while en route). He went to Italy, to +Germany, to Russia; he built houses, he bought pictures and pottery. One +of his journeys illustrates his singular mixture of economic and +romantic impulses. He made a breathless pilgrimage to the island of +Sardinia to examine the scoriæ of certain silver mines, anciently worked +by the Romans, in which he had heard that the metal was still to be +found. The enterprise was fantastic and impracticable; but he pushed his +excursion through night and day, as he had written the "Père Goriot." In +his relative prosperity, when once it was established, there are strange +lapses and stumbling-places. After he had built and was living in his +somewhat fantastical villa of Les Jardies at Sèvres, close to Paris, he +invites a friend to stay with him on these terms: "I can take you to +board at forty sous a day, and for thirty-five francs you will have +fire-wood enough for a month." In his joke he is apt to betray the same +preoccupation. Inviting Charles de Bernard and his wife to come to Les +Jardies to help him arrange his books, he adds that they will have fifty +sous a day and their wine. He is constantly talking of his expenses, of +what he spends in cab hire and postage. His letters to the Countess +Hanska are filled with these details. "Yesterday I was running about all +day: twenty-five francs for carriages!" The man of business is never +absent. For the first representations of his plays he arranges his +audiences with an eye to effect, like an _impresario_ or an agent. In +the boxes, for "Vautrin," "I insist upon there being handsome women." +Presenting a copy of the "Comédie Humaine" to the Austrian ambassador, +he accompanies it with a letter calling attention, in the most elaborate +manner, to the typographical beauty and the cheapness of the work; the +letter reads like a prospectus or an advertisement. + +In 1840 (he was forty years old) he thought seriously of marriage--with +this remark as the preface to the announcement: "_Je ne veux plus avoir +de coeur!..._ If you meet a young girl of twenty-two," he goes on, +"with a fortune of 200,000 francs, or even of 100,000, provided it can +be used in business, you will think of me. I want a woman who shall be +able to be what the events of my life may demand of her--the wife of an +ambassador, or a housewife at Les Jardies. But don't speak of this; it's +a secret. She must be an ambitious, clever girl." This project, however, +was not carried out; Balzac had no time to marry. But his friendship +with Mme. Hanska became more and more absorbing, and though their +project of marriage, which was executed in 1850, was kept a profound +secret until after the ceremony, it is apparent that they had had it a +long time in their thoughts. + +For this lady Balzac's esteem and admiration seem to have been +unbounded; and his letters to her, which in the second volume are very +numerous, contain many noble and delicate passages. "You know too well," +he says to her somewhere, with a happy choice of words belonging to the +writer, whose diction was here and there as felicitous as it was +generally intolerable--"_Vous savez trop bien que tout ce qui n'est pas +vous n'est que surface, sottise et vains palliatifs de l'absence._" "You +must be proud of your children," he writes to his sister from Poland; +"such daughters are the recompense of your life. You must not be unjust +to destiny; you may now accept many misfortunes. It is like myself with +Mme. Hanska. The gift of her affection explains all my troubles, my +weariness, and my toil; I was paying to evil, in advance, the price of +such a treasure. As Napoleon said, we pay for everything here below; +nothing is stolen. It seems to me that I have paid very little. +Twenty-five years of toil and struggle are nothing as the purchase money +of an attachment so splendid, so radiant, so complete." + +Mme. Hanska appears to have come rarely to Paris, and when she came to +have shrouded her visits in mystery; but Balzac arranged several +meetings with her abroad, and visited her at St. Petersburg and on her +Polish estates. He was devotedly fond of her children, and the tranquil, +opulent family life to which she introduced him appears to have been one +of the greatest pleasures he had known. In several passages which, for +Balzac, may be called graceful and playful, he expresses his +homesickness for her chairs and tables, her books, the sight of her +dresses. Here is something, in one of his letters to her, which is worth +quoting: "In short, this is the game that I play; four men will have +had, in this century, an immense influence--Napoleon, Cuvier, O'Connell. +I should like to be the fourth. The first lived on the blood of Europe; +_il s'est inoculé des armées_; the second espoused the globe; the third +became the incarnation of a people; I--I shall have carried a whole +society in my head. But there will have been in me a much greater and +much happier being than the writer--and that is your slave. My feeling +is finer, grander, more complete, than all the satisfactions of vanity +or of glory. Without this plenitude of the heart I should never have +accomplished the tenth part of my work; I should not have had this +ferocious courage." During a few days spent at Berlin, on his way back +from St. Petersburg, he gives his impressions of the "capital of +Brandenburg" in a tone which almost seems to denote a prevision of the +style of allusion to this locality and its inhabitants which was to +become fashionable among his countrymen thirty years later. Balzac +detested Prussia and the Prussians. + + It is owing to this charlatanism [the spacious distribution of + the streets, etc.] that Berlin has a more populous look than + Petersburg; I would have said "more animated" look if I had + been speaking of another people; but the Prussian, with his + brutal heaviness, will never be able to do anything but crush. + To produce the movement of a great European capital you must + have less beer and bad tobacco, and more of the French or + Italian spirit; or else you must have the great industrial and + commercial ideas which have produced the gigantic development + of London; but Berlin and its inhabitants will never be + anything but an ugly little city, inhabited by an ugly big + people. + +"I have seen Tieck _en famille_," he says in another letter. "He seemed +pleased with my homage. He had an old countess, his contemporary in +spectacles, almost an octogenarian--a mummy with a green eye-shade, whom +I supposed to be a domestic divinity.... I am at home again; it is +half-past six in the evening, and I have eaten nothing since this +morning. Berlin is the city of _ennui_; I should die here in a week. +Poor Humboldt is dying of it; he drags with him everywhere his nostalgia +for Paris." + +Balzac passed the winter of 1848-'49 and several months more at +Vierzschovnia, the Polish estate of Mme. Hanska and her children. His +health had been gravely impaired, and the doctors had absolutely +forbidden him to work. His inexhaustible and indefatigable brain had at +last succumbed to fatigue. But the prize was gained; his debts were +paid; he was looking forward to owning at last the money that he should +make. He could afford--relatively speaking at least--to rest. His fame +had been solidly built up; the public recognized his greatness. Already, +in 1846, he had written: "You will learn with pleasure, I am sure, that +there is an immense reaction in my favor. At last I have conquered! Once +more my protecting star has watched over me.... At this moment the +public and the papers turn toward me favorably; more than that, there is +a sort of acclamation, a general consecration.... It is a great year for +me, dear Countess." + +To be ill and kept from work was, for Balzac, to be a chained +Prometheus; but there was much during these last months to alleviate his +impatience. His letters at this period are easier, less painfully +preoccupied than at any other; and he found in Poland better medical +advice than he deemed obtainable in Paris. He was preparing a house in +Paris to receive him as a married man--preparing it apparently with +great splendor. At Les Jardies the pictures and divans and tapestries +had mostly been nominal--had been present only in grand names, chalked +grotesquely upon the empty walls. But during the last years of his life +Balzac appears to have been a great collector. He bought many pictures +and other objects of value; in particular, there figures in these +letters a certain set of Florentine furniture which he was willing to +sell again, but to sell only to a royal purchaser. The King of Holland +appears to have been in treaty for it. Readers of the "Comédie Humaine" +have no need to be reminded of the author's passion for furniture; +nowhere else are there such loving or such invidious descriptions of it. +"Decidedly," he writes once to Mme. Hanska, "I will send to Tours for +the Louis XVI. secretary and bureau; the room will then be complete. +It's a matter of a thousand francs; but for a thousand francs what can +one get in modern furniture? _Des platitudes bourgeoises, des misères +sans valeur et sans goût._" + +Old Mme. de Balzac was her son's factotum and universal agent. His +letters from Vierzschovnia are filled with prescriptions of activity for +his mother, accompanied always with the urgent reminder that she is to +use cabs _ad libitum_. He goes into the minutest details (she was +overlooking the preparation of his house in the Rue Fortunée, which must +have been converted into a very picturesque residence): "The carpet in +the dining-room must certainly be readjusted. Try and make M. Henry send +his carpet-layer. I owe that man a good _pour-boire_; he laid all the +carpets, and I once was rough with him. You must tell him that in +September he can come and get his present. I want particularly to give +it to him myself." + +His mother occasionally annoyed him by unreasonable exactions and +untimely interferences. There is an episode of a letter which she writes +to him at Vierzschovnia, and which, coming to Mme. Hanska's knowledge, +endangers his prospect of marriage. He complains bitterly to his sister +that his mother _cannot_ get it out of her head that he is still fifteen +years old. But there is something very touching in his constant +tenderness toward her--as well as something very characteristically +French--very characteristic of the French sentiment of family +consistency and solidarity--in the way in which, by constantly counting +upon her practical aptitude and zeal, he makes her a fellow worker +toward the great total of his fame and fortune. At fifty years of age, +at the climax of his distinction, announcing to her his brilliant +marriage, he signs himself _Ton fils soumis_. To his old friend Mme. +Carraud he speaks thus of this same event: "The dénouement of that +great and beautiful drama of the heart which has lasted these sixteen +years.... Three days ago I married the only woman I have loved, whom I +loved more than ever, and whom I shall love until death. I believe that +this union is the recompense that God has held in reserve for me through +so many adversities, years of work, difficulties suffered and +surmounted. I had neither a happy youth nor a flowering spring; I shall +have the most brilliant summer, the sweetest of all autumns." It had +been, as Balzac says, a drama of the heart, and the dénouement was of +the heart alone. Mme. Hanska, on her marriage, made over her large +fortune to her daughter. + +Balzac had at last found rest and happiness, but his enjoyment of these +blessings was brief. The energy that he had expended to gain them left +nothing behind it. His terrible industry had blasted the soil it passed +over; he had sacrificed to his work the very things he worked for. One +cannot do what Balzac did and live. He was enfeebled, exhausted, broken. +He died in Paris three months after his marriage. The reader feels that +premature death is the logical, the harmonious completion of such a +career. The strongest man has but a certain fixed quantity of life to +expend, and we may expect that if he works habitually fifteen hours a +day, he will spend it while, arithmetically speaking, he is yet young. + +We have been struck in reading these letters with the strong analogy +between Balzac's career and that of the great English writer whose +history was some time since so expansively written by Mr. Forster. +Dickens and Balzac take much in common; as individuals they strongly +resemble each other; their differences are chiefly differences of race. +Each was a man of affairs, an active, practical man, with a temperament +of almost phenomenal vigor and a prodigious quantity of life to expend. +Each had a character and a will--what is nowadays called a +personality--which imposed themselves irresistibly; each had a +boundless self-confidence and a magnificent egotism. Each had always a +hundred irons on the fire; each was resolutely determined to make money, +and made it in large quantities. In intensity of imaginative power, the +power of evoking visible objects and figures, seeing them themselves +with the force of hallucination, and making others see them all but just +as vividly, they were almost equal. Here there is little to choose +between them; they have had no rivals but each other and Shakespeare. +But they most of all resemble each other in the fact that they treated +their extraordinary imaginative force as a matter of business; that they +worked it as a gold mine, violently and brutally; overworked and ravaged +it. They succumbed to the task that they had laid upon themselves, and +they are as similar in their deaths as in their lives. Of course, if +Dickens is an English Balzac, he is a very English Balzac. His fortune +was the easier of the two, and his prizes were greater than the other's. +His brilliant opulent English prosperity, centred in a home and diffused +through a progeny, is in strong contrast with the almost scholastic +penury and obscurity of much of Balzac's career. But the analogy is +still very striking. + +In speaking formerly of Balzac in these pages we insisted upon the fact +that he lacked charm; but we said that our last word upon him should be +that he had incomparable power. His letters only confirm these +impressions, and above all they deepen our sense of his strength. They +contain little that is delicate, and not a great deal that is positively +agreeable; but they express an energy before which we stand lost in +wonder, in an admiration that almost amounts to awe. The fact that his +devouring observation of the great human spectacle has no echo in his +letters only makes us feel how concentrated and how intense was the +labor that went on in his closet. Certainly no solider intellectual work +has ever been achieved by man. And in spite of the massive egotism, the +personal absoluteness, to which these pages testify, they leave us with +a downright kindness for the author. He was coarse, but he was tender; +he was corrupt in a way, but he was hugely natural. If he was +ungracefully eager and voracious, awkwardly blind to all things that did +not contribute to his personal plan, at least his egotism was exerted in +a great cause. The "Comédie Humaine" has a thousand faults, but it is a +monumental excuse. + + HENRY JAMES, JR. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Paris: Calmann Lévy. 1876. + +[2] December, 1875. + + + + +LOVE'S REQUIEM. + + + I. + + Bring withered autumn leaves! + Call everything that grieves, + And build a funeral pyre above his head! + Heap there all golden promise that deceives, + Beauty that wins the heart and then bereaves-- + For love is dead. + + + II. + + Not slowly did he die! + A meteor from the sky + Falls not so swiftly as his spirit fled; + When with regretful, half-averted eye + He gave one little smile, one little sigh-- + And so was sped. + + + III. + + But, oh, not yet, not yet + Can my lost soul forget + How beautiful he was while he did live; + Or, when his eyes were dewy and lips wet, + What kisses, tenderer than all regret, + My love would give! + + + IV. + + Strew roses on his breast! + He loved the roses best; + He never cared for lilies or for snow. + Let be this bitter end of his sweet quest! + Let be the pallid silence that is rest-- + And let all go! + + WILLIAM WINTER. + + + + +STORY OF A LION. + + +When Smith's Circus and Menagerie Combination Company went to Utica +James Rounders was a lusty fellow of twenty, of some natural sagacity, +and no school education. An interest in wild beasts had been developing +in him for several years, and the odor of sawdust had become grateful to +his nostrils. It was, however, only one kind of wild beast with which he +was especially occupied. The quadruped of the noble aspect, stately +gait, and tremendous roar--the lion--was the animal of Rounders's +predilection and the object of his study. + +He had gotten together some leading facts--so far as the stories of +lion-killers may be regarded as such--concerning his favorite animal. He +had heard how a lion had galloped off from the suburbs of the Cape of +Good Hope with a two years' old heifer in his mouth, and jumped over a +hedge twelve feet high, taking his burden over with him. In the same +region of southern Africa another lion was seen bearing off a horse at a +canter, the neck in his mouth and the body slung behind across his back. +According to one who hunted the animal in the interior of Africa, a lion +one day sprang on an ox, his hind feet on the quarters, his fore feet +about the horns, and drew the head backward with such force as to break +the back of the animal. On another occasion the same hunter saw a lion +who took a heifer in his mouth, and though its legs trailed on the +ground, he carried it off as a cat would a rat, and jumped across a wide +ditch without difficulty. These accounts of the lion's strength were +articles of faith with James Rounders. He had been told that the royal +Bengal tiger of Asia was the equal in strength, if not the superior, of +the African lion, he having been known to smash the head of a bullock by +a single blow of his paw; but this Rounders did not believe. + +He read with some difficulty, moving his lips as he did so, in order to +get the matter clearly before his mind. He regarded it as a laborious +task, and would sooner have chopped a cord of wood than read for half an +hour. Notwithstanding the irksomeness of reading, there were two books +which led him conscientiously through their pages to the end--those of +Gordon Cumming and Jules Gérard on the hunting and killing of lions. The +two volumes comprised his library, and furnished his mind with all the +literary nutriment which it required. + +Rounders went to the opening performance of Smith's Circus and Menagerie +Combination Company. The ground leading up to the front of the canvas +was garnished in the usual way. There were two small parasitic tents +near the great one, on which primitive pictures hung of the woman of +enormous girth and the calf with six legs. A man stood at the flap +entrance of each, inviting people to enter and see these wonders of +nature for a moderate sum. Near by was the lemonade wagon, whose +proprietor was handing out glasses of his fluid with a briskness that +showed that many were athirst. + +When he entered the great tent the brass band was blowing blatantly, +four cavaliers in rusty spangles and four dowdy women were riding round +the ring, going through the old-time preliminary called the grand entry; +for whatever else may change, the circus remains faithful to its +traditions. The Yorick of the sawdust soon followed, and said the things +which convulsed us with laughter in our tender years, and which cause us +to smile in our maturity in the recollections they bring back. It was +the same bold joke and the same grimace. The quips and quirks force on +us the fact that there is but little originality in the human mind, and +this was substantially the reflection of Rounders as he turned an +indifferent ear to the wearisome wit. He prided himself on his acumen, +and was not to be taken in with such worn buffoonery. Yet I trow that +even Rounders envied the children who gave themselves over body and soul +to the accredited man of humor. + +He looked at the woman going through the hoops, the trick pony seeking +for the hidden handkerchief, and the bareback rider turning a summerset, +with a mild interest, for he had seen them or something like them +before. The strong man who threw up the cannon balls into the air, and +allowed them to fall on his nape, to roll down the hollow of his back to +the ground, hardly aroused this indifferent spectator. What he looked +forward to with curiosity was the performance of the lion-tamer, and +when it did come it exceeded his expectations. + +The master of the ring, attired in what resembled the uniform of an +officer of the navy, stepped into the middle of the arena, and with the +affectation of good breeding characteristic of the class, said, "Ladies +and gentlemen: I have the honor to announce that John Brinton, the most +extraordinary and celebrated tamer of lions in the world, will appear +before you in his remarkable performance, during which every one is +requested to keep his seat. Your attention is especially directed to the +third part of it, as one of the marvels of the nineteenth century. + +"To-morrow there will be a matinée at one o'clock, and in the evening +the performance at the usual hour." + +The speaker bowed and retired. The band struck up "See, the Conquering +Hero Comes," as the Brinton in question came forward with that dash +which belongs to lion-tamers everywhere. He was an athletic man between +forty and fifty, of a stern countenance, and of a self-possession that +was evident as soon as he appeared. He was arrayed in flesh-colored +tights, with embroidered sky-blue velvet around the loins. He bore in +one hand a black rod, five or six feet long, and in the other a whip. +His hair was short, and he was cleanly shaved. Men who put their heads +between lions' jaws generally are, for the titillation of a straggling +hair might produce a cough that would prove tragical. He was quick and +decided in all his movements, as the lion-tamer should be, in order to +leave the beast no time to work itself up to a decision. + +The cage which he entered contained two lions. One was large, grumbling, +and fierce, who had passed a part of his life in the wilds of Africa; +the other, and smaller of the two, was an emasculated beast, born behind +the bars, and was as tractable as the animal usually is that has never +known freedom. The performance consisted of three parts. The first was +of the kind common to menageries. The tamer entered by the little door +in a corner, with the celerity which all tamers employ, and stood for a +moment in the statuesque immobility to which they are also given, in +coming before the public. Having done this, he started forward with the +black rod in his left hand, approached the animals, driving them to the +end of the cage, the end of the rod nearly touching their faces. Here +they stood under protest, growling. Then he raised his whip, struck the +smaller beast, making it run from one end of the cage to the other, and +leap over his shoulder in a way familiar to people who have visited a +menagerie. He threw it down, put his foot on its prostrate body, and +folded his arms in the character of victor. He lay down on it, pulled +open its jaws, and inserted his head therein. Then he jumped up and +dismissed it, with a cut of the whip, to one corner. During this time +the larger lion had been an indifferent and surly spectator. The tamer +approached, touching him with the rod, when he jumped forward with a +growl, half crouching. Quickly the tamer caught hold of his upper jaw +and tore it open, as great, rebellious cog-wheel growls issued from the +mighty throat. Then he spurned him with his foot, bowed to the audience, +went to the door, let himself out like a flash, the two animals making a +bound against it as he disappeared. + +"A, B, C," said Rounders. "Nothing new about that." + +During the interim venders went about holding up photographic portraits +of the tamer, lustily shouting his professional and private virtues. +Their voices were, however, soon drowned in the clash of the brass band, +which played a prelude to what was coming. At the conclusion of this a +lone and last voice cried out, "Ice-cold lemonade," but it was promptly +suppressed by those near the crier, as Brinton again appeared. + +The second part was a short drama enacted with the larger animal, whose +name was Brutus, the smaller one being driven into an adjoining cage. In +the drama Brutus was the faithful friend of his master, the tamer, who +is attacked by his enemies--a dozen supernumeraries in rusty spangles, +who simultaneously thrust their spears through the bars from the outside +of one end of the cage; when the spears are thus thrust through the +bars, the master calls on his faithful servant Brutus to save his +master's life, and rid him of his enemies, giving the command in the +words: + +"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!" + +This was the "situation." Brutus advances at the word of command, and +with a few blows from his great paws breaks the brittle spears which the +somewhat _flasque_ enemies hold from without. At this the tamer strikes +an attitude, and shouts in a melodramatic voice: + +"Saved! And by this noble animal!" + +These words are accompanied with the action of putting an arm +affectionately around the neck of Brutus. This is the dénouement. + +He bows and retires as before, this time amid increased applause. + +"Not bad," said the critical Rounders, "but nothing extra." + +As Brinton disappeared the voices of the venders arose again, to be +drowned as before by the blare of the wind instruments. Silence was +restored for his next appearance. It was the third part which Rounders +desired especially to see, and a surprise was reserved for him. In it +the tamer entered the cage with a great piece of raw meat in each hand, +Brutus being still alone, standing in the middle of the cage, eagerly +looking out for his master. Brinton threw one of the pieces down in the +middle of the floor, and the beast pounced on it as only a wild beast +can, holding it between his paws as he gluttonously devoured it--not +with a lateral movement of the jaws, but cat-like--amid half stifled, +threatening growls, with menacing eyes turned from time to time toward +the tamer. What the tamer then did was the most extraordinary +performance which Rounders had ever seen, and sent thrills of admiration +down his spinal column. + +Brinton calmly approached the ferocious animal feeding, and took away +from it the half finished piece of meat, and as he did so the beast +growled, but submitted! After which he waved the half consumed beef in +the air and bowed, amid great applause, in which Rounders heartily +joined. Then the tamer said: + +"Brutus, you have behaved so well I shall reward you with another +piece." + +Which he did, the beast seizing it and gorging himself as before. At +this point the master of the ring stepped forth again as the tamer +disappeared, and said: + +"Ladies and gentlemen, when you recollect how difficult it is to take a +bone away from even a pet dog, it will give you some idea of the +marvellous performance you have just witnessed. It will be repeated +to-morrow during the day and evening." + +"This is a real show," said Rounders, wound up to enthusiasm. "But how +does he do it?" This was the question which at once presented itself, +and thereafter gave him no peace. With this perplexing inquiry was +mingled a deep and abiding admiration. He was brought to a determination +to which he had been moving for two or three years. In a word, he +decided then and there to enter the vocation. He sought the man who had +sent the tingling, shivering sensation down his vertebræ, and explained +that he wanted to go with him on any terms and in any capacity. + +Brinton had taken off his professional gear, and was undistinguishable +from the sombre mass of his fellow citizens. He was out on the open +space near the great tent, looking abstractedly at a man blowing with +distended cheeks into a lung-testing machine. Rounders stood before him +with the respect due to a man who snatches meat away from a ferocious +lion. + +After going through his work with the beasts, Brinton was usually tired +and somewhat indifferent to the ordinary affairs of life. Other things +seemed pale after the emotions of the cage. When Rounders explained to +him what he wanted, the tamer said: + +"You've got it." + +"Got what?" + +"The lion fever. You are lion struck. I've seen a good many like you. +Its an uphill business. Not one keeper in fifty gets the handling of the +brutes, and still the only way of going about it is to be a keeper. +Besides handling them, you must have a _specialty_--a trick, you know. +You've got to get up one yourself or worm it out of somebody else. As +for the lion man telling anybody--that is something I haven't yet met +with. You may take his life, but he won't give up his trick; it's his +pride, his pleasure, and his bread and butter." + +"I want to be a keeper all the same," returned Rounders. + +"Come on then," said Brinton; "for we want a keeper, as we left one at +the last town. He was a young man who had been reading in natural +history about the noble nature of the lion, and he put his hand in +between the bars to pat Brutus on the head. The surgeon examined him, +and said his arm was fractured in several places--it was a regular chaw. +We left him in the hospital. I tell you this as a warning not to go +fooling round the beasts--that is, if you're coming." + +The fate of the young man of a too trusting faith in the noble nature of +the lion did not turn Rounders from his determination, and the next +morning he was a part of the establishment. + +At first the tongue of the tamer was pretty closely tied touching +matters of his profession, but in due time he expanded into talk when he +saw the genuine enthusiasm of the keeper for all that related to the +subject, yet naturally practised strict reserve in everything concerning +his particular work. In a word, professional secrets remained entombed. + +He thought men were born to his vocation, and there was no resisting it. +He had followed shows and hung around lion cages when he was a boy. +Toward manhood the business had exercised such a fascination that he at +last obtained employment with a tamer, whom he followed until he was +killed by his beasts. This sanguinary spectacle deterred him for the +time from the idea of entering a cage, but he continued his work. + +There were two kinds of lions in the menageries--those born and raised +in the cages and those caught as whelps wild in Asia and Africa. A few +full grown were caught in pits. The first time he entered a cage was in +a small show in a provincial town. The two lions whom he then +encountered were old and sick, and bore the scars of twenty years' +whipping on their bald hides; besides, they were born and brought up +behind the bars. They growled from force of habit, but there was not +much danger in them. The posters of course announced the two brutes as +two of the most ferocious kings of the forest. + +From these he passed to cage-bred lions in their prime, thence to the +wild animals, of which Brutus was one. Until the tamer was able to work +with these last, he was not considered as belonging to the rank of real +tamers. The sensation he experienced the first time he entered the cage +of wild animals was difficult to describe; it was an appreciation of +imminent danger coupled with courage. When he issued from the cage his +tights and spangled cloth felt as if they had just come out of the wash +tub. He was steeled up to the point of bravery before the brutes, but +ten minutes afterward a child could have knocked him over. + +The principal secret of managing the brutes was not to be afraid of +them. When the man showed fear he was lost. The mastery was not acquired +so much through violence of treatment as an absolute sense of security +in their presence. Audacity and self-possession were necessary every +minute, every second; a moment's loss of equilibrium might prove fatal. + +The buttery mode of treatment about which bookmen wrote had no existence +in fact among showmen. No man managed his beasts with kindness. When his +Brutus licked his face in his performance it looked affectionate, but it +was not; he did it because he was afraid; and when the animal went +through this osculatory business he was obliged to keep his eye on him +with all the concentration of his will, for there was something in the +beast's eyes which showed that he would sooner use his teeth than his +tongue. + +There was an impression that a lion once tamed is tamed for good, as a +horse is broken to harness. This was an error; the lion had to be tamed +every day anew in order to keep him in subjection. + +Rounders asked him if he meant to say that all lions were vicious. To +which he answered negatively. There were good lions and bad lions, just +as there were good and bad men. The bad beasts, however, were more +numerous than the others, for it was their nature to kill to provide for +their hunger. The book talk about their generosity was not trustworthy; +the instinct of the beast was to kill when it was hungry, but when its +stomach was full it was less dangerous. He had seen the beast in its +wild state, having hunted him in Africa. He had captured Brutus there +when the animal was two years old; he was then ten, but always retained +something of his wild nature. He was secured in a pit with his mother, +the mother being shot. + +In another menagerie with which he had been connected his principal +performance was "the happy family," in which he brought together in the +same cage two lions, several wolves, a couple of bears, a sheep, a small +elephant with a monkey on his back. The crowning feature of this was the +introduction of the sheep's head into the lion's mouth, which he held +open by the upper lip with a strong grip. The sovereignty of the lions +was acknowledged by the other animals, who looked at them with fear, +getting as far away from them as the cage would permit. He had to pull +each one into the cage by force. He compelled a bear to stand with his +nose in close proximity to that of a lion; he called this the kiss of +friendship; the bear had to be kicked and pushed into position, looking +at the lion with terror; the lion did not deign to look at the bear, but +kept his eye fixed on his master, whom of course he obeyed under +protest. When the sheep was brought forward, and its head was put +between the lion's jaws, it was almost in a swooning condition, and +excited general pity. He had to get a new sheep every month, the daily +fear causing them soon to decline unto death. + +The foregoing, in substance, was a portion of the talk with which +Brinton gratified himself as well as his listener, the appreciative +Rounders. + +The trick of pulling away the meat from under the jaws of Brutus was +technically known under the canvas as the "meat-jerk." It continued to +remain uppermost in the mind of the new keeper. + +The nomadic life had pleasures for Rounders, aside from the fascination +of the "meat-jerk." He drove a gayly colored wagon in the caravan, as it +moved through the country. At night, like the Arabs, they folded their +tents and stole away, and at dawn they were on the march. Perched on his +seat, Rounders's eyes dwelt on the landscape with its purple tints of +the morning, and his nostrils sniffed the sweet odors of Nature while +she was still in déshabille. Silently, like a variegated serpent, the +caravan crept around the hills and through the valleys. The musicians, +clad in gold and scarlet, rode through the country in their magnificent +chariot, and gave out no sound, their breath being reserved for the +towns and villages. The vestal silence remained unbroken by the +stridulous clarinet and the blatant trombones. + +Every man has a weakness, and Brinton had his. He was in tender +thraldom. He loved the woman that jumped through the hoops and balloons +on a padded horse. Whenever her eyes turned on him they sent a thrill +through him more exciting than that produced by Brutus. He generally +stood near the ring-board when she appeared in public, and envied the +ringmaster the agreeable duty of assisting her to mount. Admiringly he +watched her shapely legs going through the hoops and over the garters, +as her eyes sparkled and her face flushed with the excitement, but there +was no indication of his love being returned. + +When Rounders discovered this tenderness in the heart of the tamer, he +thought of Samson and Delilah, and wondered if something of the kind +could not be done with natural comeliness instead of a pair of scissors. +Guided by instinct, Rounders, who was a shrewd fellow, as has already +been said, made his court to Mlle. La Sauteuse, known in private life as +Sally Stubbs. There were conventional barriers between a keeper and a +rider, but Rounders by tact and good looks got over them, and whispered +sweet nonsense in the porches of Miss Stubbs's willing ear. + +One evening, after the performance, as the moon shone athwart the great +tent, and the brass band was hushed, Sally Stubbs stood against a +background of canvas, bathed in the sheen from on high. Quiet reigned in +the tents of the elephantine woman and the calf with six legs. The +lung-tester had folded up his machine and departed. The sound of +"ice-cold lemonade" had died in the general stillness. Mlle. La Sauteuse +leaned over lovingly to the new keeper, and asked in a low, sympathetic +voice, + +"What can I do for you, Jim Rounders?" + +"Find out the 'meat-jerk,'" was the swift response. + +"Alas," said the fair Stubbs, "when you've been as long in the tent as +I've been, you'll know that that is impossible. You might as well ask me +for a slice of the moon that is now lookin' down on this here peaceful +scene atween you and me." + +"You've heard the Sunday school story about Samson and Delilah?" pursued +Rounders. + +"What's that got to do with John Brinton's secret?" + +"What's been done can be done again. Delilah wormed it out of Samson: +why can't Sally Stubbs worm it out of Brinton?" + +"Cut off his hair, as the Bible woman did?" + +"That's too thin," said Rounders rashly, without fear of theological +dogma. "That's allygory. They call it hair-cuttin', and when they call +it that, its hairsplittin'. Take my word for it, Sally Stubbs, that when +she got the secret out of that hefty, long-haired man, she did it with +her pretty ways and good looks." + +Still, Miss Stubbs affirmed that such a project as Rounders entertained +was impossible; and it was true. In his weakest, or most sentimental +hours, Brinton knew how to withstand even the blandishments of the +charming Stubbs when she approached professional topics. Under her smile +he opened up like a morning-glory kissed by Aurora; but when she tried +to penetrate into the mystery of his great lion act, he closed up like +the same flower when it encounters the sun. He had a well-ordered mind +divided into compartments--business was one thing and love was another. + +Meanwhile the keeper kept his eye on every movement of Brinton. He was +his shadow. When he was not occupied with the master, he was looking +after the animals. Reciprocity of kindness is a principle of nature +which Rounders had observed, and in which he had some faith, +notwithstanding the pessimist views of Brinton. He began by +familiarizing Brutus with the sight of his face, person, and voice. He +spoke to the animal in the most sympathetic accent of which he was +capable. He hung round his cage as long and as often as his duties would +permit. He reached the point of cajolery, and assumed friendship, as: + +"Well, Brutus, how are you, old boy? How did you like the last feed? I'm +afraid this travellin' round in confinement, on wheels, is injurin' your +complexion. Of course you would like to be footin' it like the rest of +us. I reckon it _would_ be better for you, but it might be bad for some +of us two-legged fellows. Eh, bully boy?" + +This jocularity was in strange contrast to the sombre indifference with +which the king of the forest looked down on the speaker. Rounders +infringed on the rules laid down by Brinton in giving bits of meat to +the beast whenever an opportunity presented itself; but notwithstanding +these offerings, the two sombre eyes continued to regard him with an +unchanged expression. One day, to arouse him from his condition of +indifference or latent kindness, Rounders introduced a stick under the +bars to poke him up in a friendly way, touching him on his extended +paws. The beast struck quickly, and almost caught his hand. As it was, +one of his fingers was bruised by the blow. Brinton, unperceived by +Rounders, had been standing behind him noting the incident. + +"Rounders," said Brinton, "you're lucky. About two months ago a fellow +did the same thing as you've been doing, but he did not come out as well +as you." + +"What befell him?" asked Rounders. + +"Brutus caught his hand under the bars, pulled in his arm, reached out +his other paw in an affectionate embrace around the man's neck, pressed +him against the bars, and mashed him. When I came up it was too late. He +dropped on the sawdust and never got up again." + +In noting their habits, Rounders observed that they were more afraid of +the short pole which Brinton carried into the cage than they were of the +whip. Brinton called this bit of dark wood his magic wand, which in a +measure justified its name, for as soon as he touched them with it, they +gave way and drew back to the end of the cage. He usually carried it +with him into a little tent-chamber, which was rigged up near the lion's +cage. One night, after issuing from the cage, he forgot to take the +magic wand with him, leaving it lying on the sawdust, alongside of one +of the wheels which carried the beasts. Jim Rounders picked it up with +curiosity, and found it very heavy. In a word, it was iron. He drew his +hand caressingly from one end of it to the other, as he thought of the +effects which it produced when it came in contact with the lions' noses. +As his hand softly reached down to the other end, he drew it back as if +bitten by a viper, with an exclamation that would not have met with +favor in the Young Men's Christian Association. The end was hot. He +carried the rod into the little tent-chamber, and left it there. It was +now made clear to him why the animals showed such an aversion to the end +of the magic wand. + +The wife of Brutus was a lioness called Cleopatra, generally kept in +another cage. In the order of nature she was at times more affectionate +to her husband than at others, and during such periods Brutus became +irritable, and difficult to manage. It was hard to keep him down, even +with the hot iron. As they wended their way from village to village, and +town to town, over the old-fashioned turnpikes, Brutus entered one of +the irritable phases of his life, during which, it is hardly necessary +to say, the vigilant eye of Rounders was nearly always on the tamer in +his management of the brute. One night, through a chink of the little +tent-chamber, he saw Brinton standing irresolute, although behind his +time for entering the cage; the beads of sweat stood on his forehead, +and he held his heated iron in his hand; then he roused himself to +decision, spat on the heated end of the magic wand, which hissed, and +strode quickly to the cage. + +This was a revelation to Rounders. It was apparent that even Brinton, +plucky as he was, had his moments of apprehension and demoralization, +from which he concluded that the danger must be real. Rounders, as usual +taking a deep interest, followed him to the cage and took his station +near the front of it. Brinton's first action as soon as he got into the +cage was to run at the nose of Brutus with his hot iron and drive him +back to one end. Rounders fancied he could almost hear the frizzle of +the flesh. He went through the first part of the performance with the +cage-bred lion, whipping him and making him jump over his shoulders in +the usual way, but he omitted that part where he tore open the jaws of +Brutus, and made him lick his face. + +The dramatic event took place in the second part. Brinton in his +preoccupation of that night left the magic wand reposing against the +wheel near the door of the cage as he entered it, to play the drama. +Brutus, rebellious and gloomy, went through his part until the scene +where the spears are thrust through the bars arrived. His master gave +the word of command: + +"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!" at the same time +pointing as usual to the spears with the enemies behind them. Brutus, +who was at the opposite end of the cage--the tamer in the centre--did +not move. Brinton gave the command a second time, stamping with his foot +to enforce it. The eyes of the lion did not turn in the direction of the +spears, as they heretofore did when the animal was ordered to the +rescue, but settled in a sombre manner on Brinton, whom the beast began +gradually to approach. At this moment Rounders, who was narrowly +watching the proceeding, observed a momentary quailing of the eye in the +tamer; still he called up his fierce expression again, and gave the +order for the third time to the gradually advancing brute, whose eyes +were steadily fixed on him. The heart of Rounders beat quick; he held +his breath. The theory then flashed through his mind about the steady +human eye being able to hold the lion in subjection or deter him from +attacking, and he scanned the eyes of Brinton. They were both fixed on +the beast, but there was no sign of the beast's quailing. Brinton cursed +and shouted at the brute, the motive of which Rounders quickly +understood, another theory being that the lion is sometimes prevented +from attacking in this way. This noise seemed rather to contribute to +the ire of the beast; besides it was presently drowned in his mighty +roar. The culminating point of anger was reached, the mane stood out on +end, and the lashing tail stiffened into a straight line, as the animal +made a bound toward Brinton, who still bore himself as if he were +complete master. Brinton fell. Quick as a flash, Rounders seized the +magic wand, burst open the little door, and made a lunge at the brute on +top of the fallen man. The men with the spears attacked him from behind, +and as the animal turned for a moment to face them, Rounders took +advantage of it to clutch Brinton, drag him to the door, and out of the +cage. + +At this the applause was deafening. It was the first night in this +community, and the spectators thought it was in the play. The heart of +Rounders turned sick as he heard the admiring shouts. He pulled Brinton +into the little tent-chamber; thence he smuggled him into a room in an +adjoining hotel. + +The beast had ripped the flesh from the bone nearly the length of his +leg, as the surgeon ascertained, who was secretly called in. Fortunately +no bones were broken. Five minutes after the event of the cage, the +manager of the concern came before the audience and stated that the +celebrated lion-tamer, John Brinton, who had been engaged at a fabulous +sum, and had performed before all the crowned heads of Europe, was taken +with a sudden indisposition to which he was sometimes subject, and would +be obliged to deny himself the pleasure of appearing again that evening. +Then he added some remark about the noble beast of the forest, who +probably regretted the non-appearance of its master--whom he positively +loved, as much as the people before him. + +After the show was over that night, the manager asked the doctor how +long the wounded tamer would keep his bed, to which answer was made that +it would be several weeks. The manager did not know what was to be done. +Then, turning to Rounders, he said, + +"There's good stuff in you. Brinton owes you his life. Don't you think +you might go into Pompey until Brinton gets on his legs?" (Pompey being +the old emasculated lion who appeared to the public in the same cage +with Brutus). To which question Rounders, picking up heart of grace, +said he thought he might. + +"I mean," added the manager, "of course, in keeping Brutus out of the +cage, and confining your handling to Pompey, who is not a bad-natured +animal. Have you got the courage to go into him?" + +Rounders said he had. + +"I don't want any foolhardiness," continued the manager. "If you can +manage to make Pompey run around the cage a little, that will do until +Brinton recovers." + +A few minutes afterward Rounders was in the room of the wounded tamer, +to whom he said: + +"I'm going in to do the business with Pompey, until you get well." + +The expression of languid suffering left the face of Brinton, as he +asked, "What are you going to do with him?" + +"Do what you did with him--or try to." + +"Perhaps you may do it, Rounders." + +"If I knew the 'meat jerk,' I don't know but I might try that on him." + +"Look here, Rounders," said the reclining man, "I have a word to say to +you. You tried to get Sally Stubbs away from me; for that I didn't like +you. But what you have done to-night wipes that out, and puts something +to the credit side of your account. This being the case, let me give you +this advice: Don't try the 'meat-jerk,' and when you go into Pompey, go +at him before he has time to think." + +Brinton was left in the town where he met with his mishap, under charge +of the doctor, and the train moved on to the next village, where +Rounders was to make his first appearance as a performer. He had faith +in hot iron, and as soon as he got inside of the cage door he went to +Pompey with the magic wand. The animal stood a moment and lashed his +tail, when Rounders quickly frizzled his nose before he had time for +reflection; then he gave way, retreating to one end. Here Rounders +strode toward him with his whip and gave him a cut, returned to the +middle of the cage, and stamped his foot as he had seen Brinton do. The +animal hesitated. Rounders stamped his foot again and raised his whip; +then Pompey jumped over his shoulder and up and down the ends of the car +in the traditional fashion. The new tamer pulled open his jaws, lay down +between his paws, and stood over him with a foot on his neck in sign of +victory. After which he bowed and retired. This was the whole +performance as far as the lions were concerned, the others--Cleopatra +and Brutus--being simply exhibited. + +"Not bad for a beginner," said the manager when he came out of the cage. +Miss Stubbs, who was standing by in short cloud-like skirts and +flesh-colored tights, said something more handsome, being in closer +sympathy with Rounders than the manager. + +For two or three weeks Rounders continued to go through a performance +like the initiatory one, but at the end of that time his ambition moved +him to do something more. Pompey was tractable, and he determined to +attempt the "meat-jerk." He had not forgotten the advice of Brinton, but +he thought it was given through jealousy. He communicated his +determination to the manager, who told him if he thought he could do it, +to go ahead, for the managerial mind was absorbed with the idea of +additional attraction. He also informed Miss Stubbs of his project, who +exhibited more solicitude, and her first impulse was to dissuade the +ambitious Rounders from the undertaking. Under such circumstances men +are not inclined to heed the words of women, and in this instance +Rounders did not. His principal aim in making the communication was to +elicit information. She knew Brinton perhaps better than any one else in +the company. Couldn't she give him some "points"? Alas! she had no +"points" to give, for, however expansive Brinton may have been under +Cupid's influence, he was as close as an oyster in what related to his +profession, as has already been said. There was but one course left for +Rounders to pursue, which was to play a close imitation of Brinton. + +The night of the representation came. The first part of the lion +performance passed off, and the second was at hand. The sweat stood on +the forehead of Rounders in drops as it had on that of Brinton when +Rounders saw him on the night of his irresolution. He issued from the +little tent-chamber, with a piece of meat in each hand, as he had seen +Brinton do. Miss Stubbs stood at the door of the cage in her +professional costume, with the magic wand in her hand. + +"Jim Rounders," said she solemnly, "keep cool. If you lose your presence +of mind, you're gone." + +"All right, Sally Stubbs," said he reassuringly as he opened the door +and went in with the two pieces of meat. The hungry animal jumped to his +feet and switched his tail. He smelt the meat. Rounders threw him a +piece, which he seized with the voracity common to lions, and began to +eat, growling between each bite. Rounders eyed the menacing beast for a +few moments, as it fed, then approached and put out his hand, at which +there was a louder and more threatening growl. It was the growl of +warning. A low feminine voice reached Rounders's ear from the cage door, +which said, + +"Jim Rounders, don't do it." But Rounders was not a man to renounce a +project when it was once lodged in his head; and he boldly reached down +to take hold of the meat on which Pompey was feeding. A gurgling growl, +rising to a high key, was the response, and a spring. Rounders was down +and the beast on top of him. At that moment the cage door flew open. +Sally Stubbs ran with the magic wand against the beast and stuck it into +his mouth, and as it went in, the act sounded like putting a steak on +the fire. She caught the prostrate man by the arm, and drew him behind +her with her free hand, and thus holding him, she dragged him backing +toward the door, holding out her rod in front to prevent a renewal of +the attack. The two got out safe together. On examination it was found +that Rounders had sustained no other injury than some severe bruises. + +"No more of that, Rounders," said the manager. "I don't want the +prospects of my show ruined by a tragedy. You have had a narrow escape. +Let it be a lesson to you not to undertake a thing you don't +understand." + +Rounders's first act after the rescue was to kiss Miss Stubbs on both +cheeks, saying as he did so, + +"Sally Stubbs, you are the only one of the kind." + +"_Mister_ Rounders," said she, pertly pushing him back, "none of them +liberties with me. I may be foolish enough to go into a cage after you, +but I'm not foolish enough to suffer them things." + +After that there was no performance with the lions for over a week, +during which Rounders was despondent. He was still occupied with the +extraordinary feat of removing meat from under the jaws of a feeding +lion. It pursued him night and day, and he told Miss Stubbs that he +would never be happy until he found out the secret. + +At length Brinton overtook the company, having come by railway. He was +completely restored, and as anxious to begin again as the manager to +have him do so. He was informed of the accident which had befallen him +who had attempted to walk in his traces. He turned to Rounders saying, + +"Now I suppose you'll own that I wanted to do you a good turn." + +"I acknowledge it--I was presumptuous and wanted tapping," answered +Rounders with proper humility. + +"As I told you before," continued Brinton, "I owe you something. Sit +down here and let me talk to you." + +Brinton picked up a piece of shingle, took out his knife, and whittled +as the two sat down together. + +"You want to learn the business, but you begin at the wrong end. You +don't know much about lion nature, and you want to do the high art in +the profession on sight. A man must creep before he can walk. Now, you +tried to begin by walking, and you know what came of it." + +This was a specimen of a bit of the talk given for the benefit and +guidance of the lion-tamer _en herbe_, and by the time Brinton got +through with his advice, his words had a salutary effect, at least for +the time being. + +There was a smouldering gleam of vengeance in the eye of Brinton when he +entered the cage for the first time after his accident, which brightened +almost into a flame as he bore down on Brutus with the hot rod. He +persistently thrust it at him; the great cog-wheel growls issued from +his throat, and he tried to break down the rod with his paw; then he +ingloriously fled around the cage as Brinton chased him with his whip. +This was accompanied with curses low but intense, which would have +shocked the Christian spectators of the assembly had they heard them. + +In playing the drama, Brinton took the precaution to have put in the +centre of the cage, as part of the decorations, a stump of a tree, which +was hollow, and contained a navy revolver and a bowie-knife. When he +gave the command to Brutus to leap forward against the spears, Brinton +stood alongside of the stump with one hand inside of it, his forefinger +playing with the trigger of the revolver. The apprehension of a +recurrence of the critical scene which has been narrated was however +groundless. Brutus dutifully leaped forward and smashed the brittle +spears, without hesitation, and calmly suffered himself to be embraced +as a "noble beast" afterward. + +The "meat-jerk" was given with the success which usually characterized +it in the hands of Brinton, the applause being enthusiastic. + +"And yet," said Rounders to Miss Stubbs, as they both stood looking at +the performance, "he does it just as I tried to do it. How easy and +natural! As he says, it's high art." + +"I don't think it's anything to be compared to standin' on my +cream-colored horse and jumping through the balloons." + +"Ah, Sally Stubbs, we can't see these things with the same eyes," said +Rounders, with a sigh. + +Miss Stubbs noted that sigh as she had the other sighs to which Rounders +gave himself over ever since his failure. She was persuaded that the man +was incorrigible, unless that particular mystery was unfolded to him. + +One day, as the caravan wound the shoulder of a steep hill, the horses +drawing the wagon containing Brutus shied at some object in the woods, +which precipitated horses and wagon down an embankment of twelve or +fifteen feet. The outside woodwork broke in several places, and the +shock knocked the door of the cage open. The driver jumped up unhurt, +but consternation was depicted on his face when his eyes turned toward +the cage. Brutus was standing on the ground lashing his sides with anger +at the bruises which he had received from the fall. Word went along the +caravan that the lion was out; all the vehicles stopped, and several of +the company's people ran to the brow of the embankment and looked down +on the scene of the catastrophe and the infuriated lion. Brinton, who +was riding in a buggy a short distance ahead of the wagon of Brutus, +jumped out and ran back to the spot where the disaster had just taken +place. He held in his hand an ordinary whip used in driving a buggy. +With this he approached the angry animal, the people falling back. When +he got near him he raised his whip menacingly. The brute made the quick +bound for which he is known, and struck him down, his claws sinking deep +into vital parts. He called out the name of Brutus with a groan. At this +juncture the animal discovered that it was his master, as he quickly +snuffed his prostrate person. That day Brinton had put on a new suit of +clothes, and when he ran toward the animal it was evident he had not +recognized him. Brinton lay unconscious on the ground, the animal not +making any further attack after his discovery of the identity. The brute +did not betray any sorrow at what he had done, nor did he give any proof +of affection. He simply became indifferent, and while he was in this +state, Rounders enticed him into another cage by the display of a piece +of meat, and as soon as he got him in, he jumped out and locked the +door. + +The wounded man was picked up and conveyed to a neighboring farmhouse, +Rounders being one of those who carried him. In proceeding to the house +he revived, and when they reached it, they carefully placed him on a +couch. The nearest physician was sent for, he living two or three miles +away. Making an effort to control the manifestation of suffering, +Brinton requested all to leave the room except Rounders. His request was +complied with. He asked Rounders to sit down alongside of him, as he +could not speak loud, and he wanted to reserve his strength. + +"Jim Rounders," said he with a softened expression of the eyes, "I have +something to say to you, and I want to say it before it is too late. +There was no use sending for the doctor--I won't be here long." + +At this Rounders offered a consolatory word to inspire hope, but Brinton +understood with what intent it was uttered and took no notice of it. + +"Jim Rounders," pursued he, "I owe you something, and I want to pay you +before I die. It's about the 'meat-jerk.'" + +Naturally the curiosity of Rounders was eager. + +"Like all great inventions," continued the tamer, "it's as simple as A, +B, C when you know how it's done." + +The secret, as explained by the sinking man, was in substance as +follows: It is a work of several months. You begin by giving the lion a +large piece of meat, and when he has polished it to the bone, you give +another piece, and when he fastens on that you pick up the bone. After +awhile you will be able to take the bone from under his mouth as you +slip the other piece of meat in its place. In time he gets to know that +when you take the first piece away from him, though it should be only +half finished, it is to be replaced by a larger piece. Gradually you let +a little time pass between the taking away and the giving, which he will +get accustomed to. This is the time you bow to the audience as if the +feat were finished, and when you give the second piece in an indifferent +manner, as if it were of no importance, the public will not see through +it. + +"Just as you did not see through it," to resume the words of Brinton, +"though you watched me like a hawk." + +"How simple!" said the enthusiastic listener. + +"So simple," continued the wounded man with effort, "I'm sure you wonder +to yourself you never thought of it before." + +Here he gasped for breath. After a pause he gathered himself together +for another effort, and went on. + +"You tried it on Pompey. He was never trained, and of course you failed. +If you are afraid of handling Brutus, you can train Pompey--as I did +Brutus." + +The tamer stopped again to get breath, and the pause was longer than +those which preceded it. He was weak unto death. The faint reflection of +a smile flitted over his features as he said in a hoarse whisper, + +"My last performance now--no postponement--on account of the weather." + +After another long pause, in the same hoarse whisper, he said, + +"This secret--will be a fortune--to you, Jim Rounders. Now shake +hands--and let--me die." + +And two hands clasped. One was warm, and pulsating with vigorous life, +but the other was dead. As Rounders held the lifeless one in his, he +resolved to renounce the ungrateful profession; but after the burial of +the dead tamer, the ruling passion took possession of him again, and he +did not rest until he had performed the "meat-jerk" with Brutus. Indeed, +he was not satisfied to walk in the footsteps of Brinton, but became in +his turn a creator of a Biblical drama, which he called "Daniel in the +Lion's Den." + + ALBERT RHODES. + + + + +A WOMAN'S GIFTS. + + + First I would give thee--nay, I may and will, + Thoughts, memory, prayers, a sacred wealth unguessed, + My soul's own glad and beautiful bequest, + Conveyed in voiceless reverence, deep and still, + As angels give their thoughts and prayers to God! + Next I would yield, in service freely made, + All of my days and years, thy needs to fill; + To bear or heavy cross, or thorny rod, + Glad of my bondage, deeming it most meet: + Oh, mystery of love, as strange as sweet, + That love from its own wealth should be repaid! + Last, I would give thee, if it pleased thee so, + And for thy pleasure, wishing it increased, + My woman's beauty, heart and lips aglow; + But this, dear, last--so soon its charm must fade, + It is, indeed, of all my gifts, the least! + + MARY AINGE DEVERE. + + + + +THE MODERN PYTHIA. + + +The arraignment of Dr. Slade, the spiritual medium, before a London +magistrate, on a charge of vagrancy, suggests the rather trite remark +that "history repeats itself." + +Spiritualism is literally "as old as the hills." Lying in a manner +dormant through long years, it has had its periodical outcroppings; as, +when absolutely prohibited by an edict of Israel's first king, B. C. +1060; when it was abjured by the Council of Ancyra of Galatia, in A. D. +314; and again when ranking highest among the popular delusions of a +people boasting of their civilization and culture, in the year of our +Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six. + +Having its foundations in truth, there have not been found wanting, in +the remote past as in the present, unscrupulous persons ready to erect +on those foundations the most stupendous frauds. + +The mental phenomena which have given rise to what is called +spiritualism are daily exhibited in some form or other in the life and +experience of almost every one. But the simplest and perhaps the most +interesting method of exhibition is by means of the little toy called +Planchette; a brief account of some experiments with which will best +serve to illustrate the nature of the phenomena in question. + +The writer and a lady friend placing the tips of their fingers lightly +on the board, the following words were traced on the paper upon which it +was placed: + +"Have you courage for the future?" + +"Will you not faint by the roadside?" + +"You will be beset by foes within and without." + +"Lions in your pathway." + +"Hope and trust--trust--trust." + +On being asked to whom this applied, it answered: + +"The heart that needs it will understand." + +A question was then put by a bystander; but instead of answering, it +went on as though continuing the former train of thought: + +"Hope and trust. You will have trials you know not of." And again, "Hope +and trust." + +Here another question was put by a bystander, but instead of answer came +the words: + +"You will find important letters awaiting you from home. Hope and +trust." + +I then asked: "To whom are these words addressed?" + +_Ans._--Soon enough you will know. Hope and trust. + +To a question given mentally by a bystander it answered: + +"Letters awaiting you. Hope and trust." + +_Ques._--Letters from whom? + +_Ans._--Your home and family. + +_Ques._--From what place? + +_Ans._--Soon enough you will know. + +_Ques._--Are they all well at home? + +_Ans._--With God all things are well. + +Not being able to decipher this clearly, it repeated: + +"With God all things are well. Trust Him." + +I confess to having been impressed with these words, so solemn were +they, so oracular, and, as it then appeared, so fitly spoken. At the +time of making these experiments I was on board one of the Pacific Mail +steamships, on my way to San Francisco; and I had reason to be +particularly solicitous in regard to my future. But my companion, in +these my first experiments, just entering a new and untried field, had +far more cause of anxiety than myself in regard to the future. To her +these warnings seemed singularly applicable. Satisfied that my +coöperator exercised no voluntary control over the board, absolutely +certain the words were not emanations of my own mind, and impelled by +curiosity, I determined to try the effect of a few test questions, and, +ridiculous as it may appear, ascertain from the instrument itself +something of its nature. + +Is there any power in Planchette, or is it merely a vehicle? I asked. + +_Ans._--Inactive bodies have no active agency. + +_Ques._--Whence come the words of Planchette--whence her intelligence? + +_Ans._--From the seat of intelligence in the one who commands me. + +_Ques._--Can you foretell coming events? + +_Ans._--The future is not made known to man. + +_Ques._--Can you give information not in the minds of the operators? + +_Ans._--No, or in the mind of some one who works me. + +_Ques._--What distinction do you make between the operator and the +worker? + +_Ans._--The worker may be removed from the board. + +_Ques._--Are you influenced by animal magnetism? + +_Ans._--Entirely. + +_Ques._--Are you influenced by electricity? + +_Ans._--One and the same. + +_Ques._--Do the minds of the present operators influence the answers? + +_Ans._--Undoubtedly. + +_Ques._--Is it the result of magnetism? + +_Ans._--The power of giving out. + +_Ques._--Giving out what? + +_Ans._--Yielding magnetism. + +_Ques._--Which of the operators influences you most? + +_Ans._--Neither is worth without the other. + +_Ques._--Have you communications with the spirit world? + +_Ans._--Disembodied spirits--no. + +_Ques._--Can you be put to any practical use? + +_Ans._--Man will be introduced to the world of science. + +_Ques._--Is your information concerning the ordinary affairs of life of +any practical value? + +_Ans._--Not much, unless the worker is reliable as an informant. + +_Ques._--What is magnetism? + +_Ans._--Magnetism is the force of the universe. + +_Ques._--What is electricity? + +_Ans._--Electricity is the outward expression of the hidden force. + +_Ques._--Has magnetism or electricity anything to do with the polarity +of the needle? + +_Ans._--The interchange of magnetism throughout the entire universe. + +_Ques._--Give a more definite answer. + +_Ans._--Currents are exchanged from earth to air and from planet to +planet. + +_Ques._--Do these affect the mariner's compass? + +_Ans._--Yes. + +_Ques._--Can we control the local attraction of the compass? + +_Ans._--Yes. + +_Ques._--How? I exclaimed excitedly, as the thought flashed through my +mind that I was on the eve of a great discovery. + +_Ans._--By the substitution of some other attractive force? + +_Ques._--Name one. + +_Ans._--Magnetized iron.[3] + +_Ques._--Can the compass be so constructed as to be uninfluenced by +local attraction? + +_Ans._--No, inasmuch as all surroundings are themselves magnets or the +mediums of conveyance. + +_Ques._--Can the approach of storms be foretold by the amount of +electricity in the air? + +_Ans._--Storms are the disturbance of the equilibrium, and therefore can +be foretold when the atmospherical balance is understood. + +_Ques._--Can you give information not in the minds of the operators? + +_Ans._--Planchette is a tool, and does nothing of herself. + +_Ques._--A tool in the hands of whom? + +_Ans._--Of those who work her.[4] + +Now if these various answers came from the minds of the "workers," we +were asking questions which we ourselves were answering, we will say, +unawares, out of the depths of our consciousness. As a seeker after +truth, therefore, I became as much involved as the dreamer spoken of by +Jeremy Taylor in one of his sermons. A man who implicitly believed in +dreams, he relates--in effect--dreamed one night that all dreams were +false. "If," reasoned he on awakening, "dreams are indeed false, then is +this one false; therefore they are true. But if, as I have always +supposed, they are true, then is this dream true; therefore they must be +false." + +Planchette's oracular sayings became famous among the passengers who +thronged the room to hear its predictions and to ask questions. The trip +to which I refer was made in the early part of November, 1868, while the +Presidential election was in progress, and there was naturally great +curiosity on the part of the passengers to know how their several States +had voted. + +Of the six States asked about, Planchette gave the majority in figures +for one candidate or the other. On comparing these figures subsequently +with the published returns, it was found that not one answer was +correct--_not a single answer was even approximately true_. + +There was a certain shipmaster on board who had left his vessel in Rio +Janeiro, with directions to the mate to bring her to San Francisco, by +way of Cape Horn. The oracle was consulted as to the position of the +ship at that particular time. Without a moment's hesitation, the +latitude and longitude of the vessel were given, placing her somewhere +off Valparaiso (Chili). "That's just where _I_ put her!" cried the +master with an ejaculation of unfeigned surprise. On reaching San +Francisco shortly after, the vessel was discovered quietly tied up at +one of the wharves. I found too, on landing, that the prophecy, "You +will find important letters awaiting you from home," was not fulfilled, +neither in my case nor in that of the other "worker." + +Now in the case of putting down the position of the merchant vessel, the +"worker" who was operating with me at the time did not know how to plot +the position of a ship at sea, after the manner of seamen; and although +the method of stating a ship's position was perfectly familiar to me, +yet I _anticipated_ that the answer in regard to her would have been +given in general and indefinite terms. What was my astonishment, then, +to find distinctly written out, "Latitude 35 deg. 30 min. S.; longitude +98 deg. 40 min. W." True this position was about four thousand miles out +of the way, but where did the answer, such as it was, come from? + +Continued experiments proved that in every instance where Planchette +attempted to foretell an event, it failed ignominiously; and while it +replied to questions with the utmost effrontery, it was rarely correct, +unless indeed, as it shrewdly said itself, "the worker was reliable as +an informant." + +Many months after these experiments, I found myself on the shores of +southern France. Here my associations were entirely different from those +I had known in the far-off Pacific, and, desirous of ascertaining how +Planchette would comport itself under the change of conditions, I +essayed further trials. + +It will be sufficient to give one example of the answers given: + +"What should one do," it was asked, "when life becomes unbearable?" The +answer was contained in one word, but written in such a scrawl as to be +illegible. The question was repeated, when the same word apparently was +written in reply, but still illegible. The question was put a third +time, when Planchette, with great energy, wrote in bold characters, and +distinct, the word PRAY. On comparing this with the former answers, they +were found to be the same. + +The question, however, is not as to the degree of faith to be placed in +the words of Planchette, but why should it write at all? + +In attempting to answer this question, I shall confine myself mainly to +the field of daily experience, and draw illustrations from such works +only as are familiar to the great majority of readers. + +Our twofold nature has often been noticed and commented upon. It has +been said that we are possessed of two separate and distinct characters: +the outward, which we present to the world, and with which we are in +some degree familiar ourselves, and that inner, deeper part of which we +know so little. + +St. Paul reveals the existence of our dual nature when he exclaims with +passionate fervor, "The good that I would I do not, but the evil which I +would not, that do I. I delight in the law of God after the _inner man_, +but I see _another law in my members_ warring against the law of my +mind." Xenophon gives, in the Cyropedia, a remarkable speech, expressing +almost precisely the same idea. Araspes, a young nobleman of Media, is +overwhelmed with mortification on being detected by Cyrus in an +indiscretion in regard to a captive princess. Chided by Cyrus, "Alas," +said he, "now I am come to a knowledge of myself, and find most plainly +that I have two souls: one that inclines me to good, another that +incites me to evil ..."--the animal versus the spiritual nature, +referred to by St. Paul. + +In another place St. Paul, speaking of the "Word of God," says it is +"quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even +to the _dividing asunder of soul and spirit_, and of the joints and +marrow...." Heb. iv. 12. Hence we may term the two elements of our +duality _soul_ and _spirit_, they being two separate and distinct +entities. + +The learned Doctor Whedon, in commenting on the forty-fourth verse of +the fifteenth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians, where the +great apostle speaks of the resurrection, says the expression natural +body, as distinct from spiritual body, fails utterly to convey to the +mind of the English reader the apostle's true idea. "If," he says, "we +assume a difference between soul and spirit, and coin the word +_soulical_ as the antithesis of _spiritual_, we present his exact idea. +The Greek word _psyche_, soul or life, when used as antithetical to +_pneuma_, spirit, signifies that animating, formative, and thinking soul +or _anima_ which belongs to the animal, and which man, as animal, shares +as his lower nature with other animals. Its range is within the limits +of the five senses, within which limits it is able to think and to +reason. Such is the power of the highest animals. Overlying this is the +spirit which man shares with higher natures, by which thought transcends +the range of the senses, and man thinks of immensity, eternity, +infinity, immortality, the beautiful, the holy, and God--it is certain +that man's mind possesses both these classes or sets of thought." Now in +regard to the higher of these elements, there are very many well +authenticated cases where the extreme susceptibility of the mind (the +seat of these elements) to outward impressions, and the reaction of the +mental sensation on the nervous system, has led to the most singular +and, in some instances, even fatal results. So marvellously delicate is +this portion of our organization, that we are not always conscious of +this reaction, and as the reaction is conveyed from the nerve centres to +the muscular tissue, we actually find ourselves uttering words or making +motions unconsciously. So sensitive is the brain through the influence +of this higher nature, so subtle its functions, that it is often +impressed by means indiscernible to the bodily eye or to the ordinary +senses--by means just as mysterious as the action of magnetic attraction +or the course of the electric wave. + +Byron alludes to this exquisite susceptibility with no less of truth +than beauty: + + And slight withal may be the things which bring + Back on the heart the weight which it would fling + Aside for ever; it may be a sound, + A tone of music, summer's eve or spring, + A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound, + _Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound_. + + And how or why we know not, _nor can trace_ + _Home to its cloud this lightning of the wind_ ... + +Having referred to the reaction of a mental sensation on the nervous +system, let us now examine the course by which the reaction proceeds. + +We are told by physiologists that stimuli applied to the nerves in +certain cases induce contraction or motion in the muscles by direct +conduction of a stimulus along a nerve, or by the conduction of a +stimulus to a nervous centre, whence it is reflected along another nerve +to the muscles. Not only mechanical and electrical, but _psychical_ +stimuli "excite the nerves, whether these are ideational, emotional, or +volitional. They proceed from the brain, being themselves sometimes +induced by external causes, and sometimes originating primarily in the +great nervous centres from the _operations of the instinct, the memory, +the reason, or the will_." + +When a stimulus of any kind, whether mechanical, chemical, electrical, +or vital, acts upon the living nervous substance, it produces an +impression on that nerve substance and excites within it some particular +change, and the property by which this takes place in the nerve +substance has been called its excitability or neurility. But the nerve +substance not only receives such an impression from a stimulus and is +excited to such a change, but it possesses the property of conducting +that impression in certain definite directions, and this property might +be spoken of as conductility. + +When such an impression is thus conducted simply along a nerve fibre, +and thence to a muscle, it induces or excites, as we have seen, the +contraction of that muscle, and so exercises what is called a _motor_ +function. + +The nerve cells appear to possess, beyond the simple excitability to +general stimuli, conductility, and the peculiar receptivity which is +essential to sensation, a special or more exalted kind of excitability +which is called into play under mental or psychical stimuli by the +changes produced in the gray matter[5] in the formation of ideas, +emotions, and the will.[6] + +Now if two sympathetic nerve systems operated upon by psychical stimuli +be directed to one and the same point, it is by no means difficult to +understand how the brains belonging to those systems may be brought into +telegraphic communication by means of the nerve fibres, the product of +the two minds evolved, and the resultant idea, by means of a simple +mechanical contrivance operated upon by the motor function already +explained, be transmitted to paper by the process of writing so familiar +to both. The action of the psychical stimuli on the nerve fibre, and its +transmission thence to the muscles resulting in the movement of the +board, is so subtle that we ourselves are not aware of its operation +except through the results produced. + +It has just been said that two minds may be brought into telegraphic +communication by means of nerve fibres. Let us see how far the +expression is justified by facts. There are few of us who have not +experienced the truth of Solomon's saying that "if two persons lie +together, they have _heat_; but how can one be warm alone?" Even the +close proximity of two persons affects their respective temperatures, +and heat and motion we know to be correlative. It has been shown by the +physicist that mechanical force producing motion is correlative with and +convertible into heat, heat into chemical force, chemical force into +electrical force, and electrical force into magnetic force. Moreover, +that each of these is correlative and convertible into the other, all +being thus interchangeable. + +"Now it is not to be supposed that the force acting in a nerve is +identical with electrical force, nor yet a peculiar kind of electricity, +nor even physically induced by it, as magnetism may be, but that in the +special action of the living nerve a force is generated peculiar to that +tissue, which is so correlated with electricity that an equivalent of +the one may in some yet unknown manner excite, give rise to, or even be +converted into the other. In this concatenation of the several forces of +nature, physical and vital, the force acting in a nerve may also be +correlated with chemical force, with the heat developed in the muscle, +and even with the peculiar molecular motions which produce muscular +contraction and all its accompanying physical and mechanical +consequences." If, then, two brains, one in London and one in New York, +may be brought into communication with each other through their +respective nerve systems and the common medium of the electric wire, and +both brought to bear on one idea--say the rate of exchange, consols, or +the price of gold--is it to be wondered at that two other brains, in +close proximity, may be brought into communication through the media of +the nerve fibres which are operated upon by a force so similar to that +which courses along the electric wire? Or is it strange that the two +sympathetic minds--two minds having a strong affinity for each +other--should combine and generate ideas? and having produced them, is +it strange they should give them expression in writing? Before the days +of Franklin, this might indeed appear strange, but it surely cannot be +so considered now. + +Such, then, is the rationale of what may be termed the automatic +writing, by means of Planchette, and such writing is simply a +manifestation of what has been named psychic force. Whether operated by +one or two persons, the rationale is the same. + +There is reason to believe that the phenomenon just explained was known +to the ancients, and that it was the origin of the oracles which formed +so important a feature, at one period, in the history of Greece; such, +for example, as the "Whispering Groves of Dodona," and the yet more +famous oracle of Delphi.[7] It is worthy of remark that these oracles +were not established at the first by the Greeks themselves. They were of +_foreign_ origin, having been first introduced from Egypt, then the seat +of learning. + +The secret of psychic force having been once discovered, it may easily +be conceived how it would be seized upon as a means of communicating, as +the pagans supposed, with beings of another world, and how readily the +more enlightened and designing would avail themselves of it as a means +to practise upon the credulity of a superstitious people. Such were the +cunning priesthood in the temples of pagan worship. They were quick to +take advantage of a discovery that offered so powerful a leverage, and +having once secured its services, they did not scruple to shape the +utterances to suit their own selfish ends. Frequently their answers were +so framed as to admit of a double interpretation. + +Croesus consulted the oracle of Delphi on the success that would +attend his invasion of the Medes. He was told that by passing the river +Halys a great empire would be ruined. He crossed, and the fall of his +own empire fulfilled the prophecy. Sometimes they were couched in vague +and mysterious terms, leaving those who solicited advice to put whatever +construction upon them their hopes or fears suggested. Compare, for +example, the first specimen of writing given in this article with the +descriptions we read in ancient history of the utterances of the Delphic +oracle. How vague and indefinite are its warnings! and then the +continual recurrence of the solemn admonition, "Hope and trust"--does it +not seem prophetic of some evil hour, when all one's hope and faith were +to be tried to the utmost? + +Suppose these words had been addressed to a superstitious person by the +priestess of a temple situated in the deep recesses of a dense forest, +among the toppling crags of some lofty mountain range, or near the +gloomy habitations of the dead: it could not have failed of making a +serious impression upon the mind. It was thus that the pagan priesthood +threw about their oracles everything that could inspire the mind of the +visitor with a sense of awe. We are told that the "sacred tripod" was +placed over the mouth of a cave whence proceeded a peculiar exhalation. + +On this tripod sat the Pythia--the priestess of Apollo--who, having +caught the inspiration, pronounced her oracles in extempore prose or +verse. The cave and the exhalations were mere accessories, stage +properties as it were, the more readily to impose upon those who came +to consult the oracle. So of the "sacred tripod," which was the symbol +merely of the real instrument which had given birth to this system of +fraud. + +Planchette, the "sacred tripod" of the ancients, uses language of +various styles. Sometimes it will not deign to speak at all; sometimes +its answers are vague and unmeaning; sometimes singularly concise and +pertinent. + +A very striking point of similarity is the occasional irrelevancy of the +answers. Tisamenus, soothsayer to the Greek army, consulted the oracle +at Delphi concerning his lack of offspring, when he was told by the +Pythia that he would win five glorious combats; and when Battus asked +about his voice he was told "to establish a city in Libya abounding in +fleeces." Such freaks are common with the modern Pythia. The resemblance +is complete. + +It is to the development of psychical force, as shown by Planchette, +that the phenomena known as mesmerism and the so-called spiritualism are +undoubtedly due. In some persons this force is found to exist +abnormally, when its manifestations are certainly extraordinary. The +trouble is that we are not always satisfied with its feeble and +uncertain utterances, and are too often impelled by cupidity or other +equally unworthy motive to practise the charlatanism of the crafty +priests of old. + +In the time of Nebuchadnezzar the Chaldean priesthood, the magicians and +astrologers, and those who had understanding in all visions and dreams, +possessed all the learning of the known world. Much of their learning +was transmitted to Egypt and thence to Greece, but much of it we know +was lost to the world. From all that we can gather now, however, we may +feel assured that they were not ignorant of the existence of what has +been termed psychic force, or a sixth sense, or unconscious cerebration +(for our terminology in all speculations bordering: on the +"_unknowable_" must necessarily be uncertain), and as a neighboring +people, the Israelites, communicated with their God through that medium, +they supposed, as was natural, that they could communicate with their +gods in the same way. And they were perfectly sincere in that belief. +But in the process of time and migration the theology of the Greeks came +to bear little resemblance to that of the Chaldeans. The dignity of the +priestly office and the influence of the priesthood became greatly +diminished. That the religion of these several nations had one common +origin, and that the priests and prophets of God's chosen people had +many imitators among other nations, there is abundant proof. + +The story of the origin of the Pythia, for example, contains points not +without resemblance to certain passages in our own early sacred history. +The Son of God is at enmity with the serpent; the serpent pursues a +woman, and is trodden under foot by the Son. Zeus is the god of the +Greeks; Apollo is his son; Leto--or Latona--is pursued by Python, the +serpent, and is slain by Apollo. To commemorate this deed a temple was +erected at Delhi to Apollo, and the priestess was called the Pythia. +Regarded as the symbol of wisdom by the Egyptians, the serpent came to +be considered by the Greeks as representing the principle of evil.[8] +Ages before this, however, the history of our first parents, the +temptation, and the fall, and the prophecy that the Son should bruise +the serpent's head, had been recorded. The wonderful Chaldeans too had +mapped out the same story among the eternal stars, their great designs +being still traceable on the celestial globes of our common schools. + +But the intellectual Greek was not long to be imposed upon. Men who +could discourse on the immortality of the soul had not much faith in the +nonsense often put forth by a priestess of Apollo. Themistocles made a +tool of the oracle in order to serve his own purposes, and Demosthenes +publicly denounced it. Convinced that the oracle was subsidized by +Philip of Macedon, and instructed to speak in his favor, he boldly +declared that the Pythia _philippized_, and bade the Athenians and +Thebans remember that "Pericles and Epaminondas, instead of listening to +the frivolous answers of the oracle, the resort of the ignorant and +cowardly, consulted only reason in the choice of their measures." + +Had there been a London magistrate at hand in the days of the great +Athenian orator, it would certainly have gone hard with the poor Pythia. + +No observer of human nature can doubt that we are bound by an "electric +chain," and that we are liable to impressions, the sources of which are +often unknown to us. Nor can we doubt that there have been abnormally +sensitive persons, like Swedenborg, whose receptivity was such that the +brain could be impressed by means which would entirely fail with the +normal brain. But in respect to the professional mediums, +notwithstanding the antiquity of the class and their many advocates, it +remains to be shown where they have been of the slightest practical +utility, or served any good or useful end. Nay more. It remains to be +shown wherein the modern medium is entitled to a particle more of +respect than the medium of Endor. + + S. B. LUCE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[3] This answer is the more remarkable from the fact that my mind was +intent upon the revelation of some new theory, while the other operator +was not at all familiar with the subject. The simplicity of the answer, +and its statement of what had been the common practice for years past, +made me feel for the moment that I had been very cleverly hoaxed. + +[4] In every instance the writing of Planchette has been copied +_verbatim_. + +[5] The gray matter of the nervous centres, the precise nature of which +is unknown. + +[6] "Outlines of Physiology." + +[7] There is no doubt that spirit-writing is very ancient, China alone +furnishing sufficient evidence of the fact. + +"Spirit-writing," says Taylor, "is of two kinds, according as it is done +with or without a material instrument. The first kind is in full +practice in China, where, like other rites of divination, it is probably +ancient. It is called 'descending of the pencil,' and is especially used +by the literary classes. When a Chinese wishes to consult a god in this +way, he sends for a professional medium. Before the image of the god are +set candles and incense, and an offering of tea or mock money. In front +of this on another table is placed an oblong tray of dry sand. The +writing instrument is a V-shaped wooden handle, two or three feet long, +with a wooden tooth fixed at its point. Two persons hold this +instrument, each grasping one leg of it, and the point resting on the +sand. Proper prayers and charms induce the god to manifest his presence +by a movement of the point in the sand, and thus the response is +written, and there only remains the somewhat difficult and doubtful task +of deciphering it...."--_"Primitive Culture." By Ed. B. Taylor. Vol. I., +p. 133._ + +[8] The serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field; "Be ye wise +as serpents."--_Bible._ + + + + +ALNASCHAR. + +1876. + + + Here's yer toy balloons! All sizes. + Twenty cents for that. It rises + Jest as quick as that 'ere, Miss, + Twice as big. Ye see it is + Some more fancy. Make it square + Fifty for 'em both. That's fair. + + That's the sixth I've sold since noon. + Trade's reviving. Just as soon + As this lot's worked off I'll take + Wholesale figgers. Make or break, + That's my motto! Then I'll buy + In some first-class lottery: + One half ticket, numbered right-- + As I dreamed about last night. + + That'll fetch it. Don't tell me! + When a man's in luck, you see, + All things help him. Every chance + Hits him like an avalanche. + Here's your toy balloons, Miss. Eh? + You won't turn your face this way? + Mebbe you'll be glad some day! + + With that clear ten-thousand prize + This yer trade I'll drop, and rise + Into wholesale. No! I'll take + Stocks in Wall street. Make or break, + That's my motto! With my luck, + Where's the chance of being stuck? + Call it Sixty Thousand, clear, + Made in Wall street in one year. + + Sixty thousand! Umph! Let's see. + Bond and mortgage'll do for me. + Good. That gal that passed me by + Scornful like--why, mebbe I + Some day'll hold in pawn--why not?-- + All her father's prop. She'll spot + What's my little game, and see + What I'm after's her. He! he! + + He! he! When she comes to sue-- + Let's see. What's the thing to do? + Kick her? No! There's the perliss! + Sorter throw her off like this! + Hello! Stop! Help! Murder! Hey! + There's my whole stock got away! + Kiting on the house tops! Lost! + All a poor man's fortin! Cost? + Twenty dollars! Eh! What's this? + Fifty cents! God bless ye, Miss! + + BRET HARTE. + + + + +AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. + +THE TRUE STORY OF A HALLUCINATION. + + +The career of the Abbé Gérard had been an eminently successful +one--successful in every way; and even he himself was forced to +acknowledge it to be so as he reviewed his past life, sitting by a +blazing fire in his comfortable apartment in the Rue Miromeuil previous +to dressing for the Duc de Frontignan's dinner-party. Born of poor +parents in the south of France, entering the priesthood at an early age, +having received but a meagre education, and that chiefly confined to a +superficial knowledge of the most elementary treatises on theology, he +had, in twenty-five years, and solely by his own exertions, unaided by +patronage, obtained a most desirable berth in one of the leading Paris +churches, thereby becoming the recipient of a handsome salary and being +enabled to indulge his tastes as a dilettante and _homme du monde_. The +few hours snatched from those absorbed by his parochial duties he had +ever devoted to study, and his application and determination had borne +him golden fruit. Moreover, he had so cultivated his mind, and made such +good use of the rare opportunities afforded him in early life of +associating with gentlemen, that when now at length he found his +presence in demand at every house in the "Faubourg" where wit and +graceful learning were appreciated, no one would ever have suspected he +had not been bred according to the strictest canons of social +refinement. + +But in his upward progress such had been his experience of life that +when, during the brief intervals of breathing time he allowed himself, +he would look below and above, he was forced to confess that at every +step a belief, an illusion had been destroyed and trodden under foot, +and he would wonder, while bracing himself for a new effort, how it +would all end, and whether the mitre he lusted for would not after all, +perhaps, be placed upon a head that doubted even the existence of a God. +He was not a bad man, but merely one of that class who have embraced the +priesthood merely as a means of raising themselves from obscurity to +eminence, and have in their intercourse with the world discovered many +flaws and blemishes in what they may at one time have considered +perfect. When his reason rejected many of the fables hitherto cherished +and believed in, the Abbé Gérard was at the beginning inclined to +abandon in despair the attempt to discern the true from the false, and +this all the more that he saw the time thus spent was, in a worldly +sense, but wasted, and that the good things of this world come to such +reapers as gather wheat and tares alike, well knowing there is a market +for them both. + +During a certain period, therefore, of his struggle upward, while his +worldly ambition was aiding by sly insinuations and comparisons the +deadly work already begun by the destruction of his dreams, Henri Gérard +was nigh being an atheist. But the nature of the man was too finely +sensual for this phase to be lasting, and when at length he found +himself so far successful in his worldly aspirations as to be tolerably +sure of their complete fulfilment; when at length he found time to +examine spiritual matters apart from their direct bearing upon his +social altitude, his æsthetic sense--which by this time had necessarily +developed--he was struck by the exquisite _beauty_ of Christianity, and +thus, as a shallow philosophy had nearly induced him to become an +atheist, a deep and sensual spirit of sentimentality nearly made him a +Christian. His Madonna was the Madonna of Raphael, not that of Albert +Dürer: the woman whose placid grace of countenance creates an emotion +more subtly voluptuous than desire; not she in whose face can be +discerned the human mother of the Man of Sorrows and of Him divinely +acquainted with all grief. The Holy Spirit he adored was not the Friend +of the broken-hearted or the Healer of the blind Bartimoeus, but He +"who feedeth among the lilies"--the Alpha and Omega of all æsthetic +conception. Christianity he looked upon as the highest moral expression +of artistic perfection, and he regarded it with the same admiration he +accorded to the Antinous and the Venus of Milo. He was not, however, by +nature a pagan as some men are--men who, in the words of De Musset, +"Sont venu trop tard dans un monde trop vieux"; but the atmosphere in +which his early years had been spent had been so antagonistic to the +impulses of his nature, his inner life had been so cramped in and +starved, that when at length the key of gold opening the prison door let +in the outer air, his spirit revelled in all the wild extravagance so +often accompanying sudden and long wished-for emancipation. His nature +was perhaps not one that could have been attuned to a perfect harmony +with that of a Greek or Roman of the golden days, but one better +calculated to enjoy the hybrid atmosphere of the Italian Renaissance; +and he would have been in his element in the Rucellai Gardens, +conversing with feeble little Cosimino, or laughing with Buondelmonte +and Luigi Alamanni. He did not believe in the narrative of the Bible, +but its precepts and tendencies he appreciated and admired, although, it +must be confessed, he did not always put himself out to follow them. In +his heart he utterly rejected all idea of a future life, since it was +incompatible with his conception of the artistic unity of this; but he +would blandly acknowledge to himself that there are perhaps things we +cannot comprehend, and that beauty may have no term. He assimilated, so +far as in him lay, his duties as a priest with his ideas as a man of +culture; and his sermons were ever of love; sermons which, winged as +they were with impassioned eloquence, were deservedly popular with all: +from the scholar, who delighted in them as intellectual feasts, to the +fashionable Paris woman of the second empire, who was enchanted at +finding in the quasi-fatalistic and broadly charitable views enunciated +therein means whereby her vulgar amours might be considered in a light +more pleasing to herself and more consoling to her husband. + +On the Sunday afternoon preceding the evening on which we introduce him +to the reader the Abbé had departed from his usual custom, and, by +especial request of his curé, had preached a most remarkable sermon upon +the Personality of Satan. It is a vulgar error to suppose that men +succeed best when their efforts are enlivened by a real belief in the +matter in hand. Not only some men have such a superabundance of fervid +imagination that they can, for the time being, provoke themselves into a +pseudo belief in what they know in their saner moments to be false, but +moreover a large class of men are endowed with minds so restless and so +finely strung that they can play with a sophism with marvellous +dexterity and skill, while lacking that vigorous and comprehensive grasp +of mind which the lucid exposition of a hidden truth necessitates. The +Abbé Gérard belonged a little to both these classes of beings; and +moreover, his vanity as an intellectual man provoked him to +extraordinary exertions in cases wherein he fancied he might win for +himself the glory of strengthening and verifying matters which in +themselves perhaps lacked almost the elements of existence. "Spiritual +truths," he once cynically remarked to Sainte-Beuve, whom, by the way, +he detested, "will take care of themselves; it is the nursing of +spiritual falsehood which needs all the care of the clergy." On the +Sunday in question he had surpassed himself. With biting irony he had +annihilated the disbelievers in Divine punishment, and then, with +persuasive and overwhelming eloquence, he had urged the necessity of +believing not only in hell, but in the personality of the Prince of +Evil. Women had fainted in their terror; men had been frightened into +seeking the convenient solace of the confessional, and the Archbishop +had written him a letter of the warmest thanks. + +It was a triumph which a man of the nature of the Abbé Gérard +particularly enjoyed. The idea of finding himself the successful reviver +of an inanimate doctrine, while secretly conscious that he was, in +reality, a skeptic in matters of dogmatically vital importance, was to a +mind so prone to delight in paradoxes eminently agreeable. It pleased +him to see the letter of the Archbishop lying upon a volume of Strauss, +and to read the glowing and extravagant praise lavished on him in the +pages of the "Univers" after having enjoyed a sparkling draught of +Voltaire. + +Such was the Abbé Gérard--the type of a class. The Duc de Frontignan, +with whom he was dining on the evening this story opens, was or rather +_is_ in many ways a no less remarkable personage in Paris society. +Possessing rank, birth, and a splendid income, he had inherited more +than a fair share of the good gifts of Providence, being endowed not +only with considerable mental power, but with the tact to use that power +to the best advantage. Although beyond doubt _clever_, he was +universally esteemed a much more intellectual man than he really was, +and this through no voluntary deceitfulness on his part, but owing to a +method he had unconsciously adopted of exhibiting his wares with their +most favorable aspect to the front. He was well read, but not deeply +read, and yet all Paris considered him a profound scholar; he was quick +and epigrammatic in his appreciation and expression of ideas, as men of +cultivation and varied experience are apt to be, but he enjoyed the +reputation of being a wit, and finally having merely lounged through the +world, impelled by a spirit of restlessness, begotten of great wealth +and idleness, society looked upon him as a bold and adventurous +traveller. One gift he most certainly possessed: he was vastly amusing +and entertaining, and resembled in one respect the Abbé Galiani, as +described by Diderot; for he was indeed "a treasure on rainy days, and +if the cabinet-makers made such things, everybody would have one in the +country." He not only knew everybody in Paris, but he possessed an +extraordinary faculty of drawing people out, and forcing them to make +themselves amusing. No man was in his society long before he discovered +himself openly discussing his most cherished hobby, or airily +scattering as seed for trivial conversation the fruit of long years of +experience and reflection. His hotel in the Rue de Varenne was the +resort of all that was most remarkable and extraordinary in the +fashionable, the artistic, the diplomatic, and the scientific world. His +intimacy with the Abbé Gérard was one of long standing: they mutually +amused each other; the keen intellect of the priest found much that was +interesting in the shallow but attractive and brilliant nature of the +layman; while the Duke entertained feelings of the warmest admiration +for a man who, having risen from nothing, enlivened the most exclusive +coteries with his graceful learning and charming wit. + +It was one of the peculiar whims of Octave de Frontignan never to have +an even number of guests at his dinner table. His soirées indeed were +attended by hundreds, but his dinner parties rarely exceeded seven +(including himself), and in many cases he only invited two. On this +especial occasion the only guest asked to meet the Abbé Gérard was the +celebrated diplomatist and millionaire the Prince Paul Pomerantseff. +This most extraordinary personage had for the past six years kept Europe +in a constant state of excitement by reason of his munificence and +power. Brought up under the direct personal supervision of the Emperor +of Russia, he had done a little of everything and succeeded in all he +had undertaken. He had distinguished himself as a diplomatist and as a +soldier, and had left traces of his indomitable will in many State +papers as on many an enemy's face during the period of the Crimean war. +In London, but perhaps more especially in "the shires," his face was +well known and liked. Duchesses' daughters had sighed for him, but in +vain; and the continuance of his celibacy appeared to be as certain as +the splendor of his fortune. The Abbé Gérard had known him for many +years, and proved no exception to the general rule, for although their +friendship had never ripened into great intimacy, there was perhaps no +man in the wide circle of his acquaintance in whose society the priest +took a more lively pleasure. + +"Late as usual!" cried the Duke, as Gérard hurried into the room ten +minutes after the appointed hour. "Prince, if you were so unpunctual in +your diplomatic duties as the Abbé is in his social (and I _fear_ in his +spiritual!), where would the world be?" + +The Abbé stopped short, pulled out his watch, and looked at it with a +comically contrite air. + +"Only ten minutes late, and I am sure when you think of the amount of +business I have to transact you can afford to forgive me," he said as he +advanced and shook hands warmly with his friends. + +"You have no idea," he continued, throwing himself lazily down upon a +lounge--"you have no idea of the amount of folly I am forced to listen +to in a day! Every woman whose bad temper has got her into trouble with +her husband, and every man whose stupidity has led him into quarrelling +with his wife--one and all they come to me, pour out their misfortunes +in my ears, and expect me to arrange their affairs." + +The servant announcing dinner interrupted the poor Abbé's complaints. + +"I tell you what I should do," said Pomerantseff when they were seated +at table. "I should say to every man and woman who came to me on such +errands, 'My dear friend, my business is with your spiritual welfare, +and with that alone. The doctor and solicitor must take care of your +worldly concerns. It is my duty to insure your eternal felicity when the +tedium of delirium tremens and the divorce court is all over, and that +is really all one man can do.'" + +"By the way, talking of spiritual matters," interrupted the Duke, +"Pomerantseff has been telling me his experience with a man you detest, +Abbé." + +"I detest no man." + +"I can only judge from your own words," rejoined Frontignan. "Did you +not tell me years ago that you thought Home a more serious evil than the +typhoid fever?" + +"Ah, Home the medium!" cried Gérard in great disgust. "I admit you are +right. It is not possible, Prince, that you encourage Frontignan in his +absurd spiritualism." + +The Prince smiled gravely. + +"I do not pretend to encourage any man in anything, _mon cher Abbé_." + +"But you cannot believe in it!" + +"I do most certainly believe in it." + +"_Dieu de Dieu!_" exclaimed Gérard. "What folly! What are we all coming +to?" + +"It has always struck me as remarkable," said the Duke, "that with all +your taste for the curious and unknown, you have never been tempted into +investigating the matter, Abbé." + +"I am, as you say, a lover of the curious," replied the priest, "but not +of such empty trash as spiritualism. I have enough cares with the +realities of this world without bringing upon myself the misery of +investigating the possibilities of the next." + +"That is a sentiment worthy of Abbé Dubois," said Pomerantseff laughing, +and then the Duke, suddenly making some inquiry relative to the train +which was to take him and the Prince to Brunoy on a shooting expedition +the following morning, the subject for the nonce was dropped. It was +destined, however, to be revived later in the evening, for when after +dinner they were comfortably ensconced in the _tabagie_, Frontignan, who +had been greatly excited by some extraordinary manifestations related to +him by the Prince before the arrival of the Abbé, said abruptly: + +"Now, Gérard, you must really let us convert you to spiritualism." + +"Never!" cried the Abbé. + +"It is absurd for you to disbelieve, for you know nothing about it, +since you have never been willing to attend a _séance_." + +"I _feel_ it is absurd, and that is enough." + +"I myself do not exactly believe in _spirits_," said Frontignan +thoughtfully. + +"_À la bonne heure!_ Of course not!" cried the Abbé. "You see, Prince, +he is not quite mad after all!" + +The Prince said nothing. + +"I cannot doubt the existence of some extraordinary phenomena," +continued the young Duke thoughtfully; "for I cannot bring myself to +such an exquisite pitch of philosophical imbecility as to doubt my own +senses; but, to my thinking, the exact nature of the phenomena, remains +as yet an open question. I have a theory of my own about it, and +although it may be absurd and fantastical, it is certainly no more so +than that which would have us believe the spirits of the dear old lazy +dead come back to the scenes of their lives and miseries to pull our +noses and play tambourines." + +"And may I ask you," inquired the Prince, with a touch of sarcasm in his +voice, "what this theory of yours may be?" + +"I will give you," said the Duke, ignoring the sneer, and stretching +himself back in his chair as he sent a ring of smoke curling daintily +toward the ceiling--"I will give you with great pleasure the result of +my reflection about this matter. It is my belief that the things--the +tangible things we create, or rather cause to appear, come from within +ourselves, and are portions of ourselves. We produce them, in the first +instance, generally with hands linked, but afterward when our nervous +organizations are more harmonized to them, they come to us of +themselves, and even against our wills. It is my belief that these are +what we term our passions and our emotions, to whose existence the +electric fluid and nervous ecstasy we cause to circulate and induce by +sitting with hands linked, merely gives a tangible and corporeal +expression. We all know that grief, joy, remorse, and many other +sensations and emotions can kill as surely and in many cases as quickly +as an assassin's dagger, and it is a well known scientific fact that +there are certain nerves in the hand between certain fingers which have +a distinct _rapport_ with the mind, and by which the mind can be +controlled. Since this is so, why is it that under certain given +conditions, such as sitting with hands linked--that thus sitting, and +while the electric fluid, drawn out by the contact of our hands, forms a +powerful medium between the inner and the outward being--why is it, I +say, that these strong emotions I have mentioned should not take +advantage of this strange river flowing to and fro between the +conceptional and the visual to float before us for a time, and give us +an opportunity of seeing and touching them, who influence our every +action in life? It is my belief that I can shake hands with my emotions; +that my conscience can become tangible and pinch my ear just as surely +as it can and does keep people awake at night by agitating their nervous +system, or in other words, by mentally pinching their ears." + +"That is certainly a very fantastical idea," said the Abbé smiling. "But +if you have ever seen any of your emotions, what do they look like? I +should like to see my hasty temper sitting beside me for a minute; I +should take advantage of his being corporealized to pay him back in his +own coin, and give him a good thrashing." + +"It is difficult," said the Duke gravely, "to recognize one's emotions +when brought actually face to face with them, although they have been +living in us all our lives--turning our hair gray or pulling it out; +making us stout or lean, upright or bent over. Moreover, our minor +emotions, except in cases where the medium is remarkably powerful, +outwardly express themselves to us as perfumes, or sometimes in lights. +I have reason, however, to believe I have recognized my conscience." + +"I should have thought he'd have been too sleepy to move out!" laughed +the Prince. + +"That just shows how wrongly one man judges another," said Octave +lazily, without earnestness, but with a certain something in his tone +that betokened he was dealing with realities. "You probably think that I +am not much troubled with a conscience; whereas the fact is that my +conscience, with a strong dash of remorse in it, is a very keen one. +Many years ago a certain episode changed the whole color and current of +my life inwardly to myself, although of course outwardly I was much the +same. Now, this episode aroused my conscience to a most extraordinary +degree, and I never 'sit' now without seeing a female figure; with a +face like that of the heroine of my episode, dressed in a queer robe, +woven of every possible color except white, who shudders and trembles as +she passes before me, holding in her arms large sheets of glass, through +which dim Bohemian glass colors pass flickering every moment." + +"What a very disagreeable thing to see this weather," said the +Abbé--"everything shuddering and shaking!" + +"Have you ever discovered why she goes about like the wife of a +glazier?" asked the Prince. + +"For a long time I could not make out what they could be, these large +panes of glass with variegated colors passing through them; but now I +think I know." + +"Well?" + +"They are dreams waiting to be fitted in." + +"Bravo!" cried the Abbé. "That is really a good idea! If I had only the +pen of Charles Nodier, what a charming _feuilleton_ I could write about +all this!" + +Pomerantseff laid his hand affectionately on the Duke's shoulder. "_Mon +cher ami_," he said with a grave smile, "believe me, you are wholly at +fault in your speculations. Gérard here of course, naturally enough, +since he has never been willing to 'sit,' thinks we are both madmen, and +that the whole thing is folly; but you and I, who have sat and seen many +marvellous manifestations, know that it is not folly. Take the word of +a man who has had greater experience in the matter than yourself, and +who is himself a most powerful medium: the theory you have just +enunciated is utterly false." + +"Prove that it is false." + +"I cannot prove it, but wait and see." + +"Nay; I have given it all up now. I will not meddle with spiritualism +again. It unhinged my nerves and destroyed my peace of mind while I was +investigating it." + +The Prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"Prince, leave him alone," said the Abbé smiling. "His theory is a great +deal more sensible than yours; and if I could bring myself to believe +that at your _séances_ any real phenomenon _does_ take place (which of +course no sane person can), I should be much more apt to accept +Frontignan's interpretation of the matter. Let us follow it out a little +further, for the mere sake of talking nonsense. Doubtless the dominant +passion of a man would be the most likely to appear--that is to say, +would be the most tangible." + +"That would depend," replied the Duke, "upon circumstances. If the +phenomenon should take place while the man is alone, doubtless it would +be so; but if while at a _séance_ attended by many people, the +apparition would be the product of the master passions of all, and thus +it is that many of the visions which appear at _séances_ where the +sitters are not harmonized are most remarkable and unrecognizable +anomalies." + +"I thought I understood from Mme. de Girardin that certain spirits +always appeared." + +"Pooh, pooh! Mme. de Girardin never went deep enough into the matter. +The most ravishing vision I ever saw was when I fancied I saw love." + +"What? Love! An emanation from yourself?" + +The Duke sighed. + +"Ah, that is what proved to me that what I saw could not be love. That +sentiment has been too long extinguished in me to awaken to a corporeal +expression." + +"What made you think it was love?" asked Pomerantseff. + +"It was a white dove with something I cannot express that was human +about it. I felt ineffably happy while it was with me." + +"Your theory is false, I tell you," said the Russian. "What you saw +probably was love." + +"Then it would have been God!" cried the Abbé. + +"Why?" + +"I believe with Novalis that 'love is the highest reality,'" replied +Gérard; then he added with a laugh, "No, Duke, what you saw was an +emanation from yourself--a master passion. It was the corporeal +embodiment of your love of pigeon-shooting!" + +"Perhaps," laughed the Duke. + +"I tell you what, _mon ami_," said Pomerantseff rising, as he saw the +Abbé making preparations to depart. "I am glad that my appetite, +corporealized and separated from my discretion, is not in your wine +cellar. Your Johannisberg would suffer!" + +"Prince, you must drive me home," said the Abbé. "I cannot get into a +draughty cab at this hour of the night." + +"_Très volontiers!_ Good night, Duke. Remember to-morrow morning, at +half-past nine, at the Gare de Lyon," said the Prince. + +"Remember to-morrow night at half-past ten, at Mme. de Langeac's," +bawled the Abbé; and so they left. The young nobleman hurried down the +cold staircase and into the Prince's brougham. + +"What a pity," exclaimed the Abbé when they were once fairly started, +"that a man with all the mind of De Frontignan should give himself up to +such wild ideas and dreams!" + +"You are not very complimentary," rejoined the other smiling gravely; +"for you know that so far as believing in spirits I am as bad if not +worse than he is." + +"Ah, but _you_ are jesting." + +"On my honor as a gentleman, I am not jesting. See here." As he spoke +Pomerantseff seized the Abbé's hand. "You heard me tell the Duke just +now that I believed he had seen the spirit of love. Well, the sermon you +preached the day before yesterday, which all Paris is talking about, and +in which you endeavored to prove the personality of the devil to be a +fact, was truer than perhaps you believed when you preached it. Why +should not Frontignan have seen the spirit of love _when I know and have +seen the devil_?" + +"_Mon ami_, you are insane!" cried Gérard. "Why, the devil does not +exist!" + +"I tell you I have seen him--the God of all Evil, the Prince of +Desolation!" cried the other in an excited voice. "And what is more, _I +will show him to you_!" + +"Show the devil to _me_!" exclaimed the Abbé, half terrified, half +amused. "Why, you are out of your mind!" + +The Prince laid his other hand upon the arm of the Abbé, who could feel +he was trembling with excitement. + +"You know my address," he said in a quick, passionate voice. "When you +feel--as I tell you you surely will--desirous of investigating this +further, send for me, and I promise, on my honor as a gentleman, to show +you the devil, so that you cannot doubt. I will do this on one +condition." + +The Abbé felt almost faint; for apart from the wildness of the words +thus abruptly and unexpectedly addressed to him, the hand of the Prince +which lay upon his own, as if to keep him still, seemed to be pouring +fire and madness into him. He tried to withdraw it, but the other +grasped the fingers tight. + +"On one condition," repeated Pomerantseff in a lower tone. + +"What condition?" murmured the poor Abbé. + +"That you trust yourself entirely to me until we reach the place of +meeting." + +"Prince, let go my hand! You are hurting me! I will promise to do as you +say when I want to go to your infernal meeting." + +He wrenched his hand away, pulled down the carriage window and let the +cold night air in. + +"Pomerantseff, you are a madman; you are dangerous. Why the devil did +you grasp my hand in that way? My arm is numb." + +The Prince laughed. + +"It is only electricity. I was determined, since you doubted the +existence of the devil, to make you promise to come and see him." + +"I never promised!" exclaimed the Abbé. "I only promised to trust myself +to you if the horrible desire should ever seize me to investigate your +mad words further. But you need not be afraid of that. God forbid I +should indulge in such folly!" + +The Prince smiled. + +"God has nothing to do with this," he remarked simply. "You will come." + +The carriage had now turned up the street in which the Abbé lived, and +they were but a few doors from his house. + +"My dear Prince," said Gérard earnestly, "let me say a few words to you +at parting. You know I am not a bigot, so that your words--which many +might think blasphemous--I care nothing about; but remember we are in +the Paris of the nineteenth century, not in the Paris of Cazotte, and +that we are eminently practical nowadays. Had you asked me to go with +you to see some curious atrocity, no matter how horrible, I might, were +it interesting, have accepted; but when you invite me to go with you to +see the devil you really must excuse me; it is too absurd." + +"Very well," replied Prince Pomerantseff. "Of course I know you will +come; but think the matter over well. Remember, I promise to show the +devil to you so that you can never doubt of his personality again. This +is not one of the wonders of electro-biology, but simply a fact: _the +devil exists, and you shall see him_. Good night." + +Gérard, as he turned into his _porte cochère_, and made his way up +stairs, was more struck than perhaps he confessed even to himself by the +quiet tone of certainty and assurance in which the Prince uttered these +words; and on reaching his apartment he sat down by the blazing fire, +lighted a cigarette, and began considering in all its bearings what he +felt convinced was a most remarkable case of mania and mental +derangement. In the first place, was the Prince deceived himself, or +merely endeavoring to deceive another? The latter theory he at once +rejected; not only the character and breeding of the man, but his +nervous earnestness about this matter, rendered such a supposition +impossible. Then he himself was deceived--and yet how improbable! Gérard +could remember nothing in what he knew or had heard of the Prince that +could lead him to suppose his brain was of the kind charlatans and +pseudo-magicians can successfully bewitch. On the contrary, although of +a country in which the grossest superstitions are rife, he himself had +led such an active, healthy life, partly in Russia and partly in +England, that his brain could hardly be suspected of derangement. An +intimate and practical acquaintance with most of the fences in "the +shires," and all the leading statesmen of Europe, can hardly be +considered compatible with a morbid disposition and superstitious +nature. + +No; the Abbé confessed to himself that the man who deceived Pomerantseff +must have been of no ordinary ability. That he had been deceived was +beyond all question, but it was certainly marvellous. In practical +matters, the Abbé was even forced to confess to himself, he would +unhesitatingly take the Prince's advice, sooner than trust to his own +private judgment; and yet here was this model of keen, healthy, worldly +wisdom gravely inviting him to meet the devil face to face, and not only +this, but promising that it should be no unintelligible freak of +electro-biology, but as a simple fact. Gérard smoked thirty cigarettes +without coming to any satisfactory solution of the enigma. What if after +all he, the Abbé Gérard, for once should abandon the line of conduct he +had laid down for himself, and, to satisfy his curiosity, and perhaps +with the chance of restoring to its proper equilibrium a most valuable +and comprehensive mind, overlook his determination never to endanger his +peace of mind by meddling with the affairs of spiritualists? He could +picture to himself the whole thing: they would doubtless be in a +darkened room; an apparition clothed in red, and adorned with the +traditional horns, would make its appearance, and there would very +likely be no apparent evidence of fraud. Even supposing some portion of +the absurd theory enunciated by the Duke de Frontignan were true, and +some strange thing begotten of electric fluid and overwrought +imagination were to make its appearance, that could hardly be considered +by a sane man as being equivalent to an interview with the devil. The +Abbé told himself that it would be most likely impossible to _detect_ +any fraud, but he felt convinced that should the Prince find this +phenomenon pooh-poohed, after a full investigation, by a man of sense +and culture, his faith in it would be shaken, and ere long he would come +to despise it. + +All the remarkable stories he had heard about spiritualism from Mme. de +Gérardin and others, and which he hitherto paid no heed to, came back +to-night to the Abbé as he sat ruminating over the extraordinary offer +just made him. He had heard of dead people appearing, and _that_ was +sufficiently absurd, for he did not believe in a future life; but the +devil----The idea was preposterous! Poor Luther, indeed, might throw his +ink-pot at him, but no enlightened Roman Catholic priest could be +expected to believe in his existence, no matter how much he might be +forced--for obvious reasons--to preach about it, and represent it as a +fact in sermons. Yes; he would unhesitatingly consent to investigate the +matter, and discover the fraud he felt certain was lurking somewhere, +but that the Prince seemed to feel so certain of his consent; and he +feared by thus fulfilling an idly expressed prophecy to plunge the +unhappy man still deeper in his slough of superstition. One thing was +certain, the Abbé told himself with a smile--nothing on earth or from +heaven or hell--if the two latter absurdities existed--could make _him_ +believe in the devil. No, not even if the devil should come and take him +by the hand, and all the hosts of heaven flock to testify to his +identity. By this time, having smoked and thought himself into a state +of blasphemous idiocy, our worthy divine threw away his cigarette, went +to bed, and read himself into a nightmare with a volume of Von Helmont. +The following morning still found him perplexed as to what course to +adopt in this matter. As luck (or shall we say--the devil?) would have +it, while he was trifling in a listless way with his breakfast, there +called to see him the only priest in whose judgment, purity, and +religious fervor he had any confidence. It is probable, to such an +extent was his mind engrossed by the subject, that no matter who might +have called, he would have discussed the extraordinary conduct of Prince +Pomerantseff with him; but insomuch as the visitor chanced to be the +very man best calculated to direct his judgment in the matter, he, +without unnecessary delay, laid the whole affair before him. + +"You see, _mon cher_," said Gérard in conclusion, "my position is just +this: It appears to me that this person, whom I will not name, has been +trifled with by Home and other so-called spiritualists to such an extent +that his mind is really in danger. Now, although of course we are +forbidden to have any dealings with such people, or to participate in +any way in their infamous, foolish, and unholy practices, surely it +would be the act of a Christian if a clear, healthy-minded man were to +expose the fraud, and thus save to society a man of such transcendent +ability as my friend. Moreover, should I determine to accept his mad +invitation, I hardly think I could be said to participate in any of the +scandalous and perhaps blasphemous rites he may have to perform to bring +about the supposed result. What do you think of it, and what do you +advise?" + +His friend walked up and down the room for a few minutes, turning the +matter over carefully in his mind, and then, coming up to where the Abbé +lay lazily stretched upon a lounge, he said earnestly, + +"_Mon cher_ Henri, I am very glad you have asked me about this. It +appears to me that your duty is quite clear. You perhaps have it in your +power, as you yourself have seen, to save, not only, as you say, a +_mind_, but what I wish I could feel you prized more highly--a soul. You +must accept the invitation." + +The Abbé rose in delight at having found another man who, taking the +responsibility off his shoulders, commanded him as a duty to indulge his +ardent curiosity. + +"But," continued the other in a solemn voice, "before accepting, you +must do one thing." + +The Abbé threw himself back on the lounge in disgust. + +"Oh, pray, of course," he exclaimed petulantly. "I am quite aware of +that." + +"Not only pray, but _fast_, and that for seven days at least, my dear +brother." + +This was a very disagreeable view of the matter, but the Abbé was equal +to the occasion. After a pause, during which he appeared absorbed in +religious reflection, he rose, and taking his friend by the hand-- + +"You are right," said he, "as you always are. Although of course I know +the evil spirit cannot harm an officer of God's Holy Catholic church, +even supposing, for the sake of argument, my poor friend can invoke +Satan, yet if I am to do any good, if I am to save my friend from +destruction, I must be armed with extraordinary grace, and this, as you +truly divine, can only come by fasting." + +The other wrung his hand warmly. "I knew you would see it in its proper +light, my dear Henri," he said, "and now I will leave you to recover +your peace of mind by religious meditation." + +The Abbé smiled gravely, and let his friend depart. The following letter +was the result of this edifying interview between the two divines: + + "MON CHER PRINCE: No doubt you will feel very triumphant when + you learn that my object in writing this letter is to accept + your offer of presentation to _Sa Majesté_; but I do not care + whether you choose to consider this yielding to what is only in + part whimsical curiosity a triumph or no. I will not write to + you any cut-and-dried platitudes about good and evil, but I + frankly assure you that one of the strongest reasons which + induces me to go with you on this fool's errand is a belief + that I can discover the absurdity and imposture, and cure you + of a hallucination which is unworthy of you. + + "_Tout à vous_, + + "HENRI GÉRARD." + +For two days he received no reply to this letter, nor did he happen, in +the interval, to meet the Prince in society, although he heard of him +from De Frontignan and others; but on the third day the following note +was brought to him: + + "MON CHER AMI: There is no question of triumph, any more than + there is of deception. I will call for you this evening at + half-past nine. You must remember your promise to trust + yourself entirely to me. + + "_Cordialement à vous_, + + "POMERANTSEFF." + +So the matter was now arranged, and he, the Abbé Gérard, the renowned +preacher of the celebrated ---- church, was to meet that very night, by +special appointment, at half-past nine, the Prince of Darkness; and this +in January, in Paris--at the height of the season in the capital of +civilization. As may be well imagined, during the remainder of that +eventful day, until the hour of the Prince's arrival, the Abbé did not +enjoy his customary placidity. A secretary of the Turkish embassy who +called at four found him engaged in a violent discussion with one of the +Rothschilds about the early Christians' belief in demons, as shown by +Tertullian and others, while Lord Middlesex, who called at half-past +five, found he had captured Faure, installed him at the piano, and was +inducing him to hum snatches from "Don Juan." When his dinner hour +arrived, having given orders to his valet to admit no one lest he should +be discovered _not_ fasting, he hastily swallowed a few mouthfuls, +fortified himself with a couple of glasses of Chartreuse verte, and +lighting an enormous "imperial," awaited the coming of the messenger of +Satan. At half-past nine o'clock precisely the Prince arrived. He was in +full evening dress (but contrary to his usual custom, wearing no +decoration or ribbon in his buttonhole), and his face was of a deadly +pallor. + +"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed the Abbé, "What is the matter with you, _mon +cher_? You are looking very ill. We had better postpone our visit." + +"No; it is nothing," replied the Prince gravely. "Let us be off without +delay. In matters of this sort waiting is unbearable." + +The Abbé rose, and rang the bell for his hat and cloak. The appearance +of the Prince, his evident agitation, and his unfeigned impatience, +which seemed to betoken terror, were far from reassuring, but the Abbé +promptly quelled any misgivings he might have felt. Suddenly a thought +struck him; a thought which certainly his brain would never have +engendered had it been in its normal condition. + +"Perhaps I had better change my dress, and go _en pékin_?" he inquired +anxiously. + +The ghost of a sarcastic smile flitted across the Prince's face, as he +replied, + +"No, certainly not. Your _soutane_ will be in every way acceptable. +Come, let us be off." + +The Abbé made a grimace, put on his hat, flung his cloak around his +shoulders, and followed the Prince down stairs. He remarked with some +surprise that the carriage awaiting them was not the Prince's. + +"I have hired a carriage for the occasion," remarked Pomerantseff +quietly, noticing Gerard's glance of surprise. "I am unwilling that my +servants should suspect anything of this." + +They entered the carriage, and the coachman, evidently instructed +beforehand where to go, drove off without delay. The Prince immediately +pulled down the blinds, and taking a silk pocket handkerchief from his +pocket, began quietly to fold it lengthwise. + +"I must blindfold you, _mon cher_," he remarked simply, as if announcing +the most ordinary fact. + +"_Diable!_" cried the Abbé, now becoming a little nervous. "This is very +unpleasant! I believe you are the devil yourself." + +"Remember your promise," said Pomerantseff, as he carefully covered his +friend's eyes with the pocket handkerchief, and effectually precluded +the possibility of his seeing anything until he should remove the +bandage. After this nothing was said. The Abbé heard the Prince pull up +the blind, open the window, and tell the coachman to drive faster. He +endeavored to discover when they turned to the right, and when to the +left, but in a few minutes got bewildered and gave it up in despair. At +one time he felt certain they were crossing the river. + +"I wish I had not come," he murmured to himself. "Of course the whole +thing is folly, but it is a great trial to the nerves, and I shall +probably be upset for many days." + +On they drove; the time seemed interminable to the Abbé. + +"Are we near our destination yet?" he inquired at last. + +"Not very far off," replied the other, in what seemed to Gérard a most +sepulchral tone of voice. At length, after a drive of perhaps half an +hour, but which seemed to the Abbé double that time, Pomerantseff +murmured in a low tone, and with a profound sigh which sounded almost +like a sob, "Here we are," and at that moment the Abbé felt the carriage +was turning, and heard the horses' hoofs clatter on what he imagined to +be the stones of a courtyard. The carriage stopped. Pomerantseff opened +the door himself, and assisted the blindfolded priest to alight. + +"There are five steps," he said as he held the Abbé by the arm. "Take +care." + +The Abbé stumbled up the five steps. They had now entered a house, and +Gérard imagined to himself it was probably some old hotel, like the +Hôtel Pimodan, where Gautier, Beaudelaire, and others at one time were +wont to assemble to disperse the cares of life in the fumes of opium. +When they had proceeded a few yards, Pomerantseff warned him that they +were about to ascend a staircase, and up many shallow steps they went, +the Abbé regretting every instant more and more that he had allowed his +vulgar curiosity to lead him into an adventure which could be productive +of nothing but ridicule and shattered nerves. When at length they had +reached the top of the stairs, the Prince guided him by the arm through +what the Abbé imagined to be a hall, opened a door, closed and locked it +after them, walked on again, opened another door, which he closed and +locked likewise, and over which the Abbé heard him pull a heavy curtain. +The Prince then took him again by the arm, advanced him a few steps, and +said in a low whisper, "Remain quietly standing where you are, and do +not attempt to remove the pocket handkerchief until you hear voices." + +The Abbé folded his arms and stood motionless while he heard the Prince +walk away a few yards. It was evident to the unfortunate priest that the +room in which he stood was not dark, for although he could see nothing, +owing to the pocket handkerchief, which had been bound most skilfully +over his eyes, there was a sensation of being in strong light, and his +cheeks and hands felt, as it were, illuminated. Suddenly a horrible +sound sent a chill of terror through him--a gentle noise as of naked +flesh touching the waxed floor--and before he could recover from the +shock occasioned by the sound, the voices of many men, voices of men +groaning or wailing in some hideous ecstasy, broke the stillness, +crying--"Father of all sin and crime, Prince of all despair and anguish, +come to us, we implore thee!" + +The Abbé, wild with terror, tore off the pocket handkerchief. He found +himself in a large, old-fashioned room, panelled up to the lofty ceiling +with oak, and filled with great light, shed from innumerable tapers +fitted into sconces on the wall--light which, though naturally _soft_, +was almost fierce by reason of its greatness, for it proceeded from at +least two hundred tapers. He had then been after all right in his +conjectures: he was evidently in a chamber of some one of the many +old-fashioned hotels which are to be seen in the Ile St. Louis, and +indeed in all the antiquated quarters of Paris. It was reassuring, at +all events, to know one was not in Hades, and to feel tolerably certain +that a sergeant de ville could not be many yards distant. All this +passed into his comprehension like a flash of lightning, for hardly had +the bandage left his eyes ere his whole attention was riveted upon a +group before him. + +Twelve men--Pomerantseff among the number--of all ages, from twenty-five +to fifty-five, all dressed in evening dress, and all, so far as one +could judge at such a moment, men of culture and refinement, knelt or +rather lay nearly prone upon the floor, with hands linked. They were +bowing forward and kissing the floor--which might account for the +strange sound heard by Gérard--and their faces were illuminated with a +light of hellish ecstasy--half distorted as if in pain, half smiling as +if in triumph. The Abbé's eyes instinctively sought out the Prince. He +was the last on the left hand side, and while his left hand grasped that +of his neighbor, his right was sweeping nervously over the floor as if +seeking to animate the boards. His face was more calm than those of the +others, but of a deadly pallor, and the violet tints about the mouth and +temples showed he was suffering from intense emotion. They were all, +each one after his own fashion, praying aloud, or rather moaning, as +they writhed in ecstatic adoration. + +"Oh, Father of Evil, come to us!" + +"Oh, Prince of Endless Desolation, who sitteth by the bed of suicides, +we adore thee!" + +"Oh, creator of eternal anguish! oh, king of cruel pleasures and +famishing desires, we worship thee!" + +"Come to us, with thy foot upon the hearts of widows, thy hair lucid +with the slaughter of innocence, and thy brow wreathed with the chaplet +of despair!" + +The heart of the Abbé turned cold and sick as these beings, hardly human +by reason of their great mental exaltation, swayed before him. + +Suddenly--or rather the full conception of the fact was sudden, for the +influence had been gradually stealing over him--he felt a terrible +coldness, a coldness more piercing than any he had before experienced +even in Russia; and with the coldness there came to him the certain +knowledge of the presence of some new being in the room. Withdrawing his +eyes from the semi-circle of men, who did not seem to be aware of his, +the Abbé's, presence, and who ceased not in their blasphemies, he +turned them slowly around, and as he did so they fell upon a newcomer, a +thirteenth, who seemed to spring into existence from the air before his +very eyes. + +He was a young man of apparently twenty, very tall, with bright golden +hair falling from his forehead like a girl's. He was dressed in evening +dress, and his cheeks were flushed as if with wine or pleasure, but from +his eyes there gleamed a look of inexpressible sadness, of intense +despair. The group of men had evidently become aware of his presence at +the same moment, for they all fell prone upon the floor adoring, and +their words were now no longer words of invocation, but words of praise +and worship. The Abbé was frozen with horror; there was no room in his +breast for the lesser emotion of fear; indeed, the horror was so great +and all-absorbing as to charm and hold him spellbound. He could not +remove his eyes from the thirteenth, who stood before him calmly, with a +faint smile playing over his intellectual and aristocratic face--a smile +which only added to the intensity of the despair gleaming in his clear +blue eyes. Gérard was struck first with the sadness, then with the +beauty, and then with the intellectual vigor of that marvellous +countenance. The expression was not unkind: haughtiness and pride could +be read only in the high-bred features, short upper lip, and nobly +moulded limbs; for the face betokened, save for the flush upon the +cheeks, only great sadness. The eyes were fixed upon those of Gérard, +and he felt their soft, subtle, intense light penetrate into every nook +and cranny of his soul and being. This being simply stood and gazed upon +the priest as the worshippers grew more wild, more blasphemous, more +cruel. The Abbé could think of nothing but the face before him, and the +great desolation that lay folded over it as a veil. He could think of no +prayer, although he could remember there were prayers. Was this +despair--the despair of a man drowning in sight of land--being shed +into him from the sad blue eyes? Was it despair, or was it death? Ah, +no; not death. Death was peaceful, and this was violent and lively. Was +there no refuge, no mercy, no salvation anywhere? Perhaps, but he could +not remember while those sad blue eyes still gazed upon him. He could +not remember, and still he could not entirely forget. He felt that help +would come to him if he sought it, and yet he could hardly tell how to +seek it. Moreover, by degrees the blue eyes--it seemed as if their +color, their great blueness, had some fearful power--began pouring into +him a more hideous pleasure. It was the ecstasy of great pain, becoming +a delight, the ecstasy of being beyond all hope and of being thus +enabled to look with scorn upon the author of hope. The blue eyes still +gazed sadly with a soft smile of despair upon him. Gérard knew that in +another moment he would not sink, faint, or fall, but that he would--oh, +much worse!--he would smile. At this very instant a name--a familiar +name, and one which the infernal worshippers had made frequent use of, +but which he had never remarked before--struck his ear; the name of +Christ. Where had he heard it? He could not tell. It was the name of a +young man; he could remember that, and nothing more. Again the name +sounded--"Christ." There was another word like Christ which seemed at +some time to have brought an idea first of great suffering and then of +great peace. Aye, peace, but no pleasure. No delight like this shed from +these marvellous blue eyes. Again the name sounded--"Christ." + +Ah! the other word was cross (_croix_). He remembered now; along thing +with a short thing across it. + +Was it that as he thought of these things the charm of the blue eyes and +their great sadness lessened in intensity? We dare not say, but as some +faint conception of what a cross was flitted through the Abbé's brain, +although he could think of no prayer, of no distinct use of this cross, +he drew his right hand slowly up, and feebly made the sign across his +breast. + +The vision vanished. + +The men adoring ceased their clamor, and lay crouched up against each +other as if some strong electric power had been taken from them, and +great weakness had succeeded. But for a moment; and then they rose +trembling and with loosened hands, and stood for an instant feebly +gazing at the Abbé, who felt faint and exhausted, and heeded them not. +With extraordinary presence of mind, the Prince walked quickly up to +him, pushed him out of the door by which they had entered, followed him, +and locked the door behind them, thus precluding the possibility of +being immediately pursued by the others. Once in the next room, the Abbé +and Pomerantseff paused for an instant to recover breath, for the +swiftness of their flight had exhausted them, worn out as they both were +mentally and physically; but during this brief interval the Prince, who +appeared to be retaining his presence of mind by a merely mechanical +effort, carefully replaced over his friend's eyes the bandage which the +Abbé held tightly grasped in his hand. Then he led him on, and it was +not until the cold air struck them that they noticed they had left their +hats behind. + +"_N'importe!_" muttered Pomerantseff. "It would be dangerous to return"; +and hurrying the Abbé into the carriage which awaited them, he bade the +coachman speed them away "_au grand galop_!" + +Not a word was spoken; the Abbé lay back as one in a swoon, and heeded +nothing until he felt the carriage stop, and the Prince uncovered his +eyes and told him he had reached home. He alighted in silence, and +passed into his house without a word. How he reached his apartment he +never knew, but the following morning found him raging with fever and +delirious. When he had sufficiently recovered, after the lapse of a few +days, to admit of his reading the numerous letters awaiting his +attention, one was put into his hand which had been brought on the +second night after the one of the memorable _séance_. It ran as follows: + + "JOCKEY CLUB, January 26, 186-. + + "MON CHER ABBÉ: I am afraid our little adventure was too much + for you; in fact, I myself was very unwell all yesterday, and + nothing but a Russian bath has pulled me together. I can hardly + wonder at this, however, for I have never in my life been + present at so powerful a _séance_, and you may comfort yourself + with the reflection that _Son Altesse_ has never honored any + one with his presence for so long a space of time before. Never + fear about your illness; it is merely nervous exhaustion, and + you will be well soon; but such evenings must not often be + indulged in if you are not desirous of shortening your life. I + shall hope to meet you at Mme. de Metternich's on Monday. + + "_Tout à vous_, + + "POMERANTSEFF." + +Whether or no Gérard was sufficiently recovered to meet his friend at +the Austrian embassy on the evening named, we do not know, nor does it +concern us; but he is certainly enjoying excellent health now, and is no +less charming than before his extraordinary adventure. + +Such is the true story of a meeting with the devil in Paris not many +years ago; a story true in every particular, as can be easily proved by +a direct application to any of the persons concerned in it, for they are +all living still. The key to the enigma we cannot find, for we certainly +do not put faith in any of the theories of spiritualists; but that an +apparition such as we have described did appear in the way and under the +circumstances we have described, is a fact, and we must leave the +satisfactory solution of the difficulty to more profound psychologists +than ourselves. + + + + +ON READING SHAKESPEARE. + +CONCLUSION. + + +Probably no play of Shakespeare's, probably no other play or poem of a +high degree of merit, is so much neglected as "Troilus and Cressida" is. +I have met intelligent readers of Shakespeare, who thought themselves +unusually well acquainted with his writings, and who were so, who +understood him and delighted in him, but who yet had never read "Troilus +and Cressida." They had, in one way and another, got the notion that it +is a very inferior play, and not worth reading, or at least not to be +read until after they were tired of all the others--a time which had not +yet come. There seems to be a slur cast upon this play; the reason of +which is its very undramatic character, and the consequent +non-appearance of its name in theatrical records. No one has heard of +any actor's or actress's appearance, even in the last century, as one of +the personages in "Troilus and Cressida." Its name has not been upon the +playbills for generations, although even "Love's Labor's Lost" has once +in a while been performed. Hence it is almost unknown, except to the +thorough Shakespearian readers, who are very few; fewer now, in +proportion to the largely increased leisurely and instructed classes, +than they were two hundred years ago, much to the shame of our vaunted +popular education and diffusion of knowledge. And yet this neglected +drama is one of its author's great works; in one respect his greatest. +"Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play in the way of +worldly wisdom. It is filled choke-full of sententious, and in most +cases slightly satirical revelations of human nature, uttered with a +felicity of phrase and an impressiveness of metaphor that make each one +seem like a beam of light shot into the recesses of man's heart. Such +are these: + + In the reproof of chance + Lies the true proof of men. + + The wound of peace is surety; + Surety secure; but modest doubt is called + The beacon of the wise. + + What is aught, but as 'tis valued? + + 'Tis mad idolatry + To make the service greater than the god. + + A stirring dwarf we do allowance give + Before a sleeping giant. + + 'Tis certain greatness once fall'n out with fortune + Must fall out with men too; what the declin'd is + He shall as soon read in the eyes of others + As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, + Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; + And not a man, for being simply man, + Hath any honor. + +Besides passages like these, there are others of which the wisdom is +inextricably interwoven with the occasion. One would think that the +wealth of such a mine would be daily passing from mouth to mouth as the +current coin of speech; and yet of all Shakespeare's acknowledged plays, +there are only two, "The Comedy of Errors" and "The Winter's Tale," +which do not furnish more to our store of familiar quotations than this +play does, rich though it is with Shakespeare's ripest thought and most +splendid utterance. And yet by a strange compensating chance, it +furnishes the most often quoted line; a line which not one in a million +of those that use it ever saw where Shakespeare wrote it, or if they had +any brains behind their eyes, they would not use it as they do. For by +another strange chance it happens that this line is entirely perverted +from the meaning which Shakespeare gave it. As it is constantly quoted, +it is not Shakespeare's. The line is: + + One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. + +This has come to be always quoted with the meaning implied in the +following indication of emphasis: "One touch of _nature_ makes the +_whole world_ kin." Shakespeare wrote no such sentimental twaddle. Least +of all did he write it in this play, in which his pen "pierces to the +dividing asunder of soul and spirit and of the joints and marrow, and is +a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." The line which +has been thus perverted into an exposition of sentimental brotherhood +among all mankind, is on the contrary one of the most cynical utterances +of an undisputable moral truth, disparaging to the nature of all +mankind, that ever came from Shakespeare's pen. Achilles keeps himself +aloof from his fellow Greeks, and takes no part in the war, sure that +his fame for valor will be untarnished. Ulysses contrives to provoke him +into a discussion, and tells him that his great deeds will be forgotten +and his fame fade into mere shadow, and that some new man will take his +place, unless he does something from time to time to keep his glory +bright. For men forget the great thing that was done, in favor of the +less that is done now. + + For time is like a fashionable host + That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, + And with his arms outstretched as he would fly, + Grasps in the comer. Welcome ever smiles, + And farewell goes out sighing. O let not virtue seek + Remuneration for the thing it was; + For beauty, wit, + High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service, + Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all + To envious and calumniating time. + +And then he immediately adds that there is one point on which all men +are alike, one touch of human nature which shows the kindred of all +mankind--that they slight familiar merit and prefer trivial novelty. The +next lines to those quoted above are: + + One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, + That all with one consent praise new-born gauds. + Though they are made and moulded of things past; + And give to dust that is a little gilt + More sand than gilt oe'rdusted. + +The meaning is too manifest to need or indeed to admit a word of +comment, and it is brought out by this emphasis: "_One_ touch of nature +makes the _whole world kin_"--that one touch of their common failing +being an uneasy love of novelty. Was ever poet's or sage's meaning so +perverted, so reversed! And yet it is hopeless to think of bringing +about a change in the general use of this line and a cessation of its +perversion to sentimental purposes, not to say an application of it as +the scourge for which it was wrought; just as it is hopeless to think of +changing by any demonstration of unfitness and unmeaningness a phrase in +general use--the reason being that the mass of the users are utterly +thoughtless and careless of the right or the wrong, the fitness or the +unfitness, of the words that come from their mouths, except that they +serve their purpose for the moment. That done, what care they? And what +can we expect, when even the "Globe" edition of Shakespeare's works has +upon its very title-page and its cover a globe with a band around it, on +which is written this line in its perverted sense, that sense being +illustrated, enforced, and deepened into the general mind by the union +of the band-ends by clasped hands. I absolve, of course, the Cambridge +editors of the guilt of this twaddling misuse of Shakespeare's line; it +was a mere publisher's contrivance; but I am somewhat surprised that +they should have even allowed it such sanction as it has from its +appearance on the same title-page with their names. + +The undramatic character of "Troilus and Cressida," which has been +already mentioned, appears in its structure, its personages, and its +purpose. We are little interested in the fate of its personages, not +merely because we know what is to become of them, for that we know in +almost any play which has an historical subject; but the play is +constructed upon such a slight plot that it really has neither dramatic +motive nor dramatic movement. The loves of "Troilus and Cressida" are of +a kind which are interesting only to the persons directly involved in +them; Achilles's sulking is of even less interest; and the death of +Hector affects us only like a newspaper announcement of the death of +some distinguished person, so little is he really involved in the action +of the drama. There is also a singular lack of that peculiar +characteristic of Shakespeare's dramatic style, the marked distinction +and nice discrimination of the individual traits, mental and moral, of +the various personages. Ulysses is the real hero of the play; the chief, +or at least the great purpose of which is the utterance of the Ulyssean +view of life; and in this play Shakespeare is Ulysses, or Ulysses +Shakespeare. In all his other plays Shakespeare so lost his personal +consciousness in the individuality of his own creations that they think +and feel as well as act like real men and women other than their +creator, so that we cannot truly say of the thoughts and feelings which +they express, that Shakespeare says thus or so; for it is not +Shakespeare who speaks, but they with his lips. But in Ulysses, +Shakespeare, acting upon a mere hint, filling up a mere traditionary +outline, drew a man of mature years, of wide observation, of profoundest +cogitative power, one who knew all the weakness and all the wiles of +human nature, and who yet remained with blood unbittered and soul +unsoured--a man who saw through all shams and fathomed all motives, and +who yet was not scornful of his kind, not misanthropic, hardly cynical +except in passing moods; and what other man was this than Shakespeare +himself? What had he to do when he had passed forty years but to utter +his own thoughts when he would find words for the lips of Ulysses? And +thus it is that "Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play. If +we would know what Shakespeare thought of men and their motives after he +reached maturity, we have but to read this drama; drama it is, but with +what other character who shall say? For, like the world's pageant, it +is neither tragedy nor comedy, but a tragi-comic history, in which the +intrigues of amorous men and light-o'-loves and the brokerage of panders +are mingled with the deliberations of sages and the strife and the death +of heroes. + +The thoughtful reader will observe that Ulysses pervades the serious +parts of the play, which is all Ulyssean in its thought and language. +And this is the reason or rather the fact of the play's lack of +distinctive characterization. For Ulysses cannot speak all the time that +he is on the stage; and therefore the other personages, such as may, +speak Ulyssean, with, of course, such personal allusion and peculiar +trick as a dramatist of Shakespeare's skill could not leave them without +for difference. For example, no two men could be more unlike in +character than Achilles and Ulysses, and yet the former, having asked +the latter what he is reading, he, uttering his own thought, says as +follows with the subsequent reply: + + _Ulyss._--A strange fellow here + Writes me: That man, how dearly ever parted,[9] + How much in having, or without or in, + Cannot make boast to have that which he hath + Nor feels not what he owes but by reflection, + As when his virtues shining upon others + Heat them, and they retort that heat again + To the first giver. + + _Achil._--This is not strange, Ulysses. + The beauty that is borne here in the face + The bearer knows not, but commends itself + To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself, + That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, + Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed, + Salutes each other with each other's form, + For speculation turns not to itself + Till it hath travelled and is mirror'd there + Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all. + +Now these speeches are made of the same metal and coined in the same +mint; and they both of them have the image and superscription of William +Shakespeare. No words or thoughts could be more unsuited to that bold, +bloody egoist, "the broad Achilles," than the reply he makes to Ulysses; +but here Shakespeare was merely using the Greek champion as a lay figure +to utter his own thoughts, which are perfectly in character with the +son of Autolycus. Ulysses thus flows over upon the whole serious part of +the play. Agamemnon, Nestor, Æneus, and the rest all talk alike, and all +like Ulysses. That Ulysses speaks for Shakespeare will, I think, be +doubted by no reader who has reached the second reading of this play by +the way which I have pointed out to him. And why, indeed, should Ulysses +not speak for Shakespeare, or how could it be other than that he should? +The man who had written "Hamlet," "King Lear," "Othello," and "Macbeth," +if he wished to find Ulysses, had only to turn his mind's eye inward; +and thus we have in this drama Shakespeare's only piece of introspective +work. + +But there is another personage who gives character to this drama, and +who is of a very different sort. Thersites sits with Caliban high among +Shakespeare's minor triumphs. He was brought in to please the mob. He is +the Fool of the piece, fulfilling the functions of Touchstone, and +Launce, and Launcelot, and Costard. As the gravediggers were brought +into "Hamlet" for the sake of the groundlings, so Thersites came into +"Troilus and Cressida." As if that he might leave no form of human +utterance ungilded by his genius, Shakespeare in Thersites has given us +the apotheosis of blackguardism and billingsgate. Thersites is only a +railing rascal. Some low creatures are mere bellies with no brain. +Thersites is merely mouth, but this mouth has just enough coarse brain +above it to know a wise man and a fool when he sees them. But the +railings of this deformed slave are splendid. Thersites is almost as +good as Falstaff. He is of course a far lower organization +intellectually, and somewhat lower, perhaps, morally. He is coarser in +every way; his humor, such as he has, is of the grossest kind; but still +his blackguardism is the ideal of vituperation. He is far better than +Apemantus in "Timon of Athens," for there is no hypocrisy in him, no +egoism, and, comfortable trait in such a personage, no pretence of +gentility. For good downright "sass" in its most splendid and aggressive +form, there is in literature nothing equal to the speeches of Thersites. + +"Troilus and Cressida" is also remarkable for its wide range of style, +because of which it is a play of great interest to the student of +Shakespeare, who here adapted his style to the character of the matter +in hand. The lighter parts remind us of his earlier manner; the graver +are altogether in his later. He did this unconsciously, or almost +unconsciously, we may be sure. None the less, however, is the play +therefore valuable in a critical point of view, but rather the more so. +It is a standing and an undeniable warning to us not to lean too much +upon any one special trait of style in estimating the time in +Shakespeare's life at which a play was produced. Moreover it illustrates +the natural course of style development, showing that it is not only +gradual, but not by regular degrees; that is, that a writer does not +pass at one period absolutely from one style to another, dropping his +previous manner and taking on another, but that he will at one time +unconsciously recur to his former manner or manners, and at a late +period show traces of his early manner. Strata of his old fashion thrust +themselves up through the newer formation. "Troilus and Cressida" is so +remarkable in this respect that the chief of the absolute-period +critics, the Rev. Mr. Fleay, has been obliged to invent a most +extraordinary theory to account for it. His view is that there are three +plots interwoven, each of which is distinct in manner of treatment, and, +moreover, that each of these was composed at a different time from the +other two. He would have us believe that the parts embodying the Troilus +and Cressida story were written in Shakespeare's earliest period, those +concerning Hector in his middle period, and the Ajax parts in the last. +That these three stories were interwoven is manifest; but they came +naturally together in this Greek historical play--for it is that--and +their interweaving was hardly to have been avoided; the manner of each +is not distinct from that of the other, although there is, with +likeness, a noticeable unlikeness; but the notion that therefore +Shakespeare first wrote the Troilus and Cressida part as a play, and +then years afterward added the Hector part, and again years afterward +the Ajax and Ulysses part, seems to me only a monstrous contrivance of +an honest and an able man in desperate straits to make his theory square +with fact. As to detail upon this subject, I shall only notice one +point. Tag-rhymes, or rhymed couplets ending a scene or a speech in +blank verse or in prose, are regarded by the metre-critics (and justly +within reason) as marks of an early date of composition. Now in "Troilus +and Cressida" these abound. It contains more of them than any other +play, except one or two of the very earliest. The important point, +however, is that these rhymes appear no less in the Ulysses and Ajax +scenes of the play than in the others--a sufficient warning against +putting absolute trust in such evidence. + +Among those few of Shakespeare's plays which are least often read is +"All's Well that Ends Well." This one, however, is to the earnest +student one of the most interesting of the thirty-seven which bear his +name; not only because it contains some of his best and most thoughtful +work, but because, being Shakespeare's all through, it is written in two +distinct styles--styles so distinct that there can be no doubt that as +it has come down to us it is the product of two distinct periods of his +dramatic life, and those the most distant, the first and the last. Its +singularity in this respect gives it a peculiar value to the student of +Shakespeare's style and of his mental development. There is not an +interweaving of styles as in "Troilus and Cressida"; the two are +distinctly separable; and there is external historical evidence which +supports the internal. + +We have a record in Francis Meres's "Palladis Tamia" of a play by +Shakespeare called "Love's Labor's Won"; and there is no reasonable +doubt that that was the first name of "All's Well that Ends Well." As +the "Palladis Tamia" was published in 1598, this play was produced +before that year, and all the evidence, internal and external, goes to +show that Shakespeare wrote it soon after "Love's Labor's Lost," and as +a counterpart to that comedy. The difference of its style in various +parts had been remarked upon in general terms; but I believe that this +difference was first specially indicated in the following passage, which +I cannot do better here than to quote from the introduction to my +edition of the play published in 1857; and I do so with the greater +freedom because the particular traits which it discriminated have been +lately, in the present year, insisted upon by the Rev. Mr. Fleay, in his +very useful and suggestive, but not altogether to be trusted +"Shakespeare Manual," to which I have before referred. + +"It is to be observed that passages of rhymed couplets, in which the +thought is somewhat constrained and its expression limited by the form +of the verse, are scattered freely through the play, and that these are +found side by side with passages of blank verse in which the thought, on +the contrary, so entirely dominates the form, and overloads and weighs +it down, as to produce the impression that the poet, in writing them, +was almost regardless of the graces of his art, and merely sought an +expression of his ideas in the most compressed and elliptical form. The +former trait is characteristic of his youthful style; the latter marks a +certain period of his maturer years. Contracted words, which Shakespeare +used more freely in his later than in his earlier works, abound; and in +some passages words are used in an esoteric sense, which is distinctive +of the poet's style about the time when 'Measure for Measure' was +produced. Note, for instance, the use of 'succeed' in 'owe and succeed +thy weakness,' in Act II., Sc. 4 of that play, and in 'succeed thy +father in manners,' Act I., Sc. 1 of this. It is to be observed also +that the advice given by the Countess to Bertram when he leaves +Rousillon is so like that of Polonius to Laertes in a similar situation, +that either the latter is an expansion of the former, or the former a +reminiscence of the latter; and as the passage is written in the later +style, the second supposition appears the more probable. Finally, it is +worthy of remark that both the French officers who figure in this play +as First Lord and Second Lord are somewhat strangely named _Dumain_, and +that in 'Love's Labor's Lost' Dumain is also the name of that one of the +three attendants and brothers in love of the King who has a post in the +army; which, when taken in connection with other circumstances, is at +least a hint of some relation between the two plays." + +If the reader who has gone thoughtfully through the plays in the course +which I have indicated will take up this one, he will find in the very +first scene evidence and illustration of these views. It is almost +entirely in prose, which itself shows the weight of Shakespeare's mature +hand. The first blank verse is the speech of the Countess, in which she +gives a mother's counsel to Bertram as he is setting out for the wars, +as is pointed out above, and which is unmistakably of the "Hamlet" +period. Then comes a speech by Helen beginning, + + O were that all! I think not on my father: + And these great tears grace his remembrance more + Than those I shed for him-- + +and ending with this charming passage, referring to the growth of her +love for Bertram: + + 'Twas pretty, though a plague, + To see him every hour; to sit and draw + His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls + In our heart's table; heart too capable + Of every line and trick of his sweet favor: + But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy + Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +It is needless to say to the advanced student of Shakespeare's style +that this is in his later manner. A little further on is Helen's speech +to the detestable Parolles, beginning with the mutilated line, "Not my +virginity yet," which is followed by some ten, in which she pours out in +Euphuistic phrase her love for Bertram, saying that he has in her "a +mother, and a mistress, and a friend, a counsellor, a traitress, and a +dear"; and yet further, + + His humble ambition, proud humility, + His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, + His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world + Of pretty, fond, adoptious Christendoms + That blinking Cupid gossips. + +This will remind the reader of Scott's Euphuist, Sir Piercie Shafton, +who, if I remember aright, uses some of these very phrases, in which +Shakespeare has beaten Lilly at his own weapons, and made his affected +phraseology the vehicle of the touching utterance of real feeling. +"Euphues" was published in 1580, when Shakespeare was only sixteen years +old; and this passage, although it may have been written or perhaps +altered later, was probably a part of the play as it was first produced. +The scene ends with the following speech by Helen, which, for its +peculiar characteristics, is worth quoting entire. The reader who will +compare it with "Love's Labor's Lost" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream" +will have not a moment's doubt as to the time when it was written: + + Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie + Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky + Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull + Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. + What power is it which mounts my love so high + That makes me see and cannot feed mine eye? + The mightiest space in fortune nature brings + To join like likes and kiss like native things. + Impossible be strange attempts to those + That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose + What hath been cannot be: whoever strove + To show her merit that did miss her love? + The king's disease--my project may deceive me, + But my intents are fixed and will not leave me. + +Besides its formal construction and its rhyme, this passage is overmuch +afflicted with youngness to be accepted as the product of any other +than Shakespeare's very earliest period. Of like quality to this are +other passages scattered through the play. For example, the Countess's +speech, Act I., Sc. 3, beginning, "Even so it was with me"; all the +latter part of Act II., Sc. 1, from Helen's speech, "What I can do," +etc., to the end, seventy lines; passages in the third scene of this +act, which the reader cannot now fail at once to detect for himself; +Helen's letter, Act III., Sc. 4, and Parolles's, Act IV., Sc. 3; and +various passages in the last act. Shakespeare, I have no doubt, wrote +this play at first nearly all in rhyme in the earliest years of his +dramatic life, and afterward, late in his career, possibly on two +occasions, rewrote it and gave it a new name; using prose, to save time +and labor, in those passages the elevation of which did not require +poetical treatment, and in those which were suited to such treatment +giving us true, although not highly finished specimens of his grand +style. + +A few of the plays now remain unnoticed; but our purpose is accomplished +without further particular remark. The reader who has gone thus far with +me needs me no longer as a guide. The Roman plays, "Coriolanus," "Julius +Cæsar," and "Antony and Cleopatra," particularly the last, should now +receive his careful attention. In "The Winter's Tale," "The Tempest," +and "Henry VIII." he will find the very last productions of +Shakespeare's pen, and in the first and the third of these he will find +marks of hasty work both in the versification and in the construction; +but the touch of the master is unmistakable quite through them all, and +"The Tempest" is one of the most perfect of his works in all respects. +No true lover of Shakespeare should neglect the Sonnets, although many +do neglect them. They are inferior to the plays; but only to them. + +As to helps to the understanding of Shakespeare, those who can +understand him at all need none except a good critical edition. And by a +good critical edition I mean only one which gives a good text, with +notes where they are needed upon obscure constructions, obsolete words +or phrases, manners and customs, and the like. Of the plays in the +Clarendon Press series, "The Merchant of Venice," "Richard II.," +"Macbeth," "Hamlet," and "King Lear," better editions cannot be had, +particularly for readers inexperienced in verbal criticism. Those who +find any difficulty which the notes to those editions do not explain may +be pretty sure that, with the exception of a very few passages the +corruption of which is admitted on all hands, the trouble is not with +Shakespeare or the editor. Shakespeare read in the way which I have +indicated, and with the help of such an edition, has a high educating +value, and in particular will give the reader an insight into the +English language, if not a mastery of it, that is worth a course of all +the text-books of grammar and rhetoric that have been written ten times +over. As to editions, I shall give only one caution. Do not get Dyce's. +Mr. Dyce was a scholar, a man of fine taste, most thoroughly read in +English literature, particularly in that of the Elizabethan period. He +was a man for whom I had a very high respect, and whom I had reason to +regard with a somewhat warmer feeling than that of a mere literary +acquaintance. This and my deference to his age and his position +prevented me from saying during his life what there is no reason that I +should not say now--that in my opinion he was one of the most +unsuccessful of Shakespeare's editors. His edition is one of the worst +that has been published in the last century, both for its text and, +except as to their learning, for its notes. With all my deferential +respect for him,[10] I was prepared for this result before the +appearance of the first of his three editions. Being in correspondence +with him, and on such terms that I could make such a request, I asked +him to send me some sheets of his edition while it was passing through +the press. He replied that he could not do this; but the reason that he +gave was, not any unwillingness to confide them to me, but that it was +then impossible, because after his edition was half struck off he had +cancelled the greater part of it on account of changes in his opinions +as to the reading of so many passages! And this after he was well in +years; after having passed his life in the study of Elizabethan +literature; and after having edited Beaumont and Fletcher! I was never +more amazed. Such a man could have no principles of criticism. How could +he guide others who after such study was not sure of his own way? With +all his knowledge of the literature and the literary history of the +Elizabethan period, he seemed to lack the power of putting himself in +sympathy with Shakespeare as he wrote. Hence the crudity and incongruity +of his text, his vacillating opinions, and the weakness and poverty of +his annotation. + +Of criticism of what has been called the higher kind, I recommend the +reading of very little, or better, none at all. Read Shakespeare; seek +aid to understand his language, if that be in any way obscure to you; +but that once comprehended, apprehension of his purpose and meaning will +come untold to those who can attain it in any way. In my own edition I +avoided as much as possible the introduction of æsthetic criticism, not +because I felt incapable of writing it; for it is easy work; on the +contrary, I freely essayed it when it was necessary as an aid to the +settlement of the text, or of like questions; and by its use I think +that I succeeded in establishing some points of importance. But in my +judgment the duty of an editor is performed when he puts the reader, as +nearly as possible, in the same position, for the apprehension of his +author's meaning, that he would have occupied if he had been +contemporary with him and had received from him a correct copy of his +writings. More than this seems to me to verge upon impertinence. Upon +this point I find myself supported by William Aldis Wright,[11] who is +in my judgment the ablest of all the living editors of Shakespeare; who +brings to his task a union of scholarship, critical judgment, and common +sense, which is very rare in any department of literature, and +particularly in Shakespearian criticism, and whose labors in this +department of letters are small and light in comparison with the graver +studies in which he is constantly engaged. He, in the preface to his +lately published edition of "King Lear" in the Clarendon Press series, +says: "It has been objected to the editions of Shakespeare's plays in +the Clarendon Press series that the notes are too exclusively of a +verbal character, and that they do not deal with æsthetic, or as it is +called, the higher criticism. So far as I have had to do with them, I +frankly confess that æsthetic notes have been deliberately and +intentionally omitted, because one main object in these editions is to +induce those for whom they are especially designed to read and study +Shakespeare himself, and not to become familiar with opinions about him. +Perhaps, too, it is because I cannot help experiencing a certain feeling +of resentment when I read such notes, that I am unwilling to intrude +upon others what I should regard myself as impertinent. They are in +reality too personal and objective, and turn the commentator into a +showman. With such sign-post criticism I have no sympathy. Nor do I wish +to add to the awful amazement which must possess the soul of Shakespeare +when he knows of the manner in which his works have been tabulated, and +classified, and labelled with a purpose, after the most approved method, +like modern _tendenzschriften_. Such criticism applied to Shakespeare is +nothing less than gross anachronism." + +Not a little of the Shakespearian criticism of this kind that exists is +the mere result of an effort to say something fine about what needs no +such gilding, no such prism-play of light to enhance or to bring out its +beauties. I will not except from these remarks much of what Coleridge +himself has written about Shakespeare. But the German critics whom he +emulated are worse than he is. Avoid them. The German pretence that +Germans have taught us folk of English blood and speech to understand +Shakespeare is the most absurd and arrogant that could be set up. +Shakespeare owes them nothing; and we have received from them little +more than some maundering mystification and much ponderous platitude. +Like the western diver, they go down deeper and stay down longer than +other critics, but like him too they come up muddier. Above all of them, +avoid Ulrici and Gervinus. The first is a mad mystic, the second a very +literary Dogberry, endeavoring to comprehend all vagrom men, and +bestowing his tediousness upon the world with a generosity that +surpasses that of his prototype. Both of them thrust themselves and +their "fanned and winnowed opinions" upon him in such an obtrusive way +that if he could come upon the earth again and take his pen in his hand, +I would not willingly be in the shoes of either. He would hand them down +to posterity the laughing stock of men for ever. + +Not Shakespeare only has suffered from this sort of criticism. The great +musicians fare ill at their hands. One of them, Schlüter, writing of +Mozart, says of his E flat, G minor, C (Jupiter) symphonies: + + It is evident that these three magnificent works--produced + consecutively and at short intervals--are the embodiment of + _one_ train of thought pursued with increasing ardor; so that + taken as a whole they form a grand _trilogy_.... These three + grandest of Mozart's symphonies (the first lyrical, the second + tragic-pathetic, and the third of ethical import) correspond to + his three greatest operas, "Figaro," "Don Giovanni," and "Die + Zauberflöte." + +Now, I venture to say, that there is no such consecutive train of +thought, and no such correspondence. Ethical import in the Jupiter and +in the "Zauberflöte," and correspondence between them! Mozart did not +evolve musical elephants out of his moral consciousness. But a German +professor of _esthetik_ is not happy until he has discovered a trilogy +and an inner life. Those found, he goes off with ponderous serenity into +the _ewigkeit_. + +I have been asked, apropos of these articles, to give some advice as to +the formation of Shakespeare clubs. The best thing that can be done +about that matter is to let it alone entirely. According to my +observation, Shakespeare clubs do not afford their members any +opportunities of study or even of enjoyment of his works which are not +attainable otherwise. And how should they do so except by the formation +of libraries for the use of their members? In this respect they may be +of some use, but not of much. Few books, a very few, are necessary for +the intelligent and earnest student of Shakespeare, and those almost +every such student can obtain for himself. As I have said, a good +critical edition is all that is required; and whoever desires to wander +into the wilderness of Shakespearian commentary will find in the public +libraries ample opportunities of doing so. I have observed that those +who read Shakespeare most and understand him best do not use even +critical editions, except for occasional reference, but take the text by +itself, pure and simple. An edition with a good text, brief +introductions to each play, giving only ascertained facts, and a few +notes, glossological and historical, at the foot of the page, is still a +desideratum. Quiet reading with such an edition as this at hand will do +more good than all the Shakespeare clubs ever established have done. I +have seen something of such associations; and I have observed in them a +tendency on one hand to a feeble and fussy literary antiquarianism, and +on the other to conviviality; a thing not bad in itself, and indeed, +within bounds, much better than the other; but which has as little to +do as that has (and it could not have less) with an intelligent study of +Shakespeare. There is hardly anything less admirable to a reasonable +creature than the assemblage at stated times of a number of +semi-literary people to potter over Shakespeare and display before each +other their second-hand enthusiasm about "the bard of Avon," as they +generally delight to call him. Now, a true lover of Shakespeare never +calls him the bard of Avon, or a bard of anything; and he reads him o' +nights and ponders over him o' days while he is walking, or smoking, or +at night again while he is waking in his bed. If he is too poor to buy a +copy offhand, he saves up his pennies till he can get one, and he does +not trouble himself about the commentators or the mulberry tree. He +would not give two pence to sit in a chair made of it; for he knows that +he could not tell it from any other chair, and that it would not help +him to understand or to enjoy one line in "Hamlet," or "Lear," or +"Othello," or "As You Like It," or "The Tempest." These remarks have no +reference of course to such societies as the Shakespeare Societies of +London, past and present. They are associations of scholars for the +purpose of original investigations, and which they print for the use of +their subscribers, and for the republication of valuable and scarce +books and papers having a bearing upon Shakespeare and the literary +history of his time. We have no such material in this country. Whoever +wishes to go profoundly into the study of Shakespearian, or rather of +Elizabethan literature, would do well to obtain a set of the old +Shakespeare Society's publications, and to become a subscriber to the +other Shakespeare society, which is doing good thorough work. Clubs +might well be formed for the obtaining of these books and others, for +the use of their members who cannot afford or who do not care to buy +them for their own individual property; although a book really owned is, +I cannot say exactly why, worth more to a reader than one belonging to +some one else. But all other Shakespeare clubs are mere vanity. The true +Shakespeare lover is a club unto himself. + + RICHARD GRANT WHITE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] _I. e._, gifted, endowed with parts. + +[10] See "Shakespeare's Scholar," _passim._ + +[11] Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and one of the editors of the +Cambridge edition. + + + + +THE PHILTER. + +A LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR'S TIME. + + + Dying afar in Brittany, + The gallant Tristram lay; + His gentle bride's sweet ministry, + Her tender touch and way, + That erstwhile brought the rest he sought, + No more held soothing sway. + + The naming of her tuneful name, + Isoude--so sweet to hear + Because its music was the same + With one long holden dear-- + Now, like a bell discordant, fell, + And brought but mocking cheer. + + Her eyne so blue, with lids so white, + Her tresses from their snood, + That rippling ambered all the light + About her where she stood, + Served only now to cloud his brow + Who longed for lost Isoude-- + + Isoude, who charmed him once when storm + Had blown his ship ashore + On Ireland's coast; Isoude, whose form + Bewitched him more and more, + As mem'ry came, his love to flame, + When hope, alas! was o'er: + + Isoude, who sailed with him the sea + Across to Cornwall land, + To marry Mark, whose treachery + Did Tristram's faith command + To win her grace for kingly place, + And his own heart withstand. + + On sultry deck becalmed they pine; + Careless, their thirst to ease, + A philter--mixt for bridal wine-- + Her lip beguiles, and his: + O subtle draught unconscious quaffed! + They drained it to the lees-- + + Until in Tristram's knightly form + All joy for her seemed blent; + Until her cheek could only warm + Beneath his gaze intent; + Until her heart sought him apart, + Whoever came or went; + + Until the potion did beget + An all-enduring spell; + Albeit Cornwall's king now met + And liked her fairness well, + And claimed her hand, while through the land + Rang sound of marriage bell; + + Until, as fragrance from a flower, + True love outbrake control, + And dropped its sweetness as a shower + Of pearls, that threadless roll + To find their rest in some near nest; + Her home, Sir Tristram's soul! + + And he, though frequent jousts he won; + Though many a valiant deed + Of prowess made his fame outrun + The claim of knightly creed; + Though maidens oft their glances soft + Bestowed in tenderest meed; + + Though Brittany upon him prest + A bride, in gratitude + For service done; and though the quest + Of sacred grail subdued + His full heart-beat of smothered heat-- + He loved but _Queen_ Isoude! + + And now with holy vows all tossed + Of fever's frantic sway-- + As mariner whose bark is crossed + Upon a peaceful way + By winds that lure from purpose pure + And well-meant plans bewray-- + + He bade a trusty servitor + To Cornwall's queen forthwith. + "Take this," he said, "and show to her + How great my languor, sith + This signet's round will not be found + To bear one hurted lith. + + "Say that Sir Tristram prays her aid, + And so he prays not vain, + Let sails of silken white be made, + Whose gleam shall heal my pain, + As hither borne some favoring morn, + Love claims his own again! + + "But if she yield no heed to these + Fond cravings of love's breath, + Then bearing on the burdened breeze + Let sail that shadoweth, + Of darkest dark, beshroud the bark, + A presage of my death." + + So spake the Lord of Lyonesse, + And bode his joy or bale; + While jealous of her right to bless, + The wife Isoude, grown pale + As buds of light that shrink from night, + Made sad and lonely wail: + + "Alas! all one the loss to me, + My lord alive or dead, + If life of his by sorcery + Of this fair queen be fed." + Then adding, "Be her answer _nay_, + Hope yet to hope is wed." + + She scanned the sea. On waves of balm + A white sail of rare glow + Came rounding to the harbor's calm + With fullest promise--lo! + Bleak winds arise, as false she cries, + "_A black sail entereth_ slow." + + Too weak to battle with his grief, + Sir Tristram breathed a sigh-- + "Alack, that Isoude's sweet relief + Should fail me where I lie: + Sith not for me her face to see, + Is but to droop and die." + + Black sails are hoisted now in truth! + They wing two forms to rest: + For Cornwall's queen a-cold, in ruth, + Fell prone on Tristram's breast; + And Cornwall's knight for kinsman's right + Of shrine had made request. + + A letter lay upon the bier, + And this the word it bare: + "O love is sweet, O love is dear, + And followeth everywhere + Whoso has drained the chalice stained + With its red wine and rare. + + "O love is dear, O love is sweet, + And yet, of faith's decree + Would Honor quench beneath stern feet + Love's bloom if that need be. + O King, one wills. But Love distils + His philters fatefully!" + + Then did the King in penitence + Weep dole for these two dead. + Some slight remorse had pricked his sense + That he through wile had wed + His best knight's love; alas, to prove + Such end, so ill bestead! + + In royal crypt he bade the twain + Be laid; and there a vine, + O'er which the murderous scythe was vain, + Sprang up the graves to twine, + Defying death with its green breath: + True plant of seed divine! + + MARY B. DODGE. + + + + +MISS MISANTHROPE. + +BY JUSTIN MCCARTHY. + + +CHAPTER I. + +MISS MISANTHROPE. + +The little town of Dukes-Keeton, in one of the more northern of the +midland counties, had in its older days two great claims to +consideration. One was a park, the other a sweetmeat. The noble family +whose name had passed through many generations of residence at the place +had always left their great park so freely open to every one, that it +came to be like the common property of the public, and the town had +grown into fame by the manufacture of the sweetmeat which bore its name +almost everywhere in the track of the meteor-flag of England. But as +time went on other places took to manufacturing the sweetmeat so much +better, and selling it so much more successfully than "Keeton," as the +town was commonly called, could do, that "Keeton" itself had long since +retired from the business, and was content to import the delicacy which +still bore its own name in consignments of canisters from Manchester or +London. During many years the heir of the noble family had deserted the +park, and absolutely never came near it or near England even, and +everything that gave the town a distinct reason for existence seemed to +be passing rapidly into tradition. It had lain out of the track of the +railway system for a long time, and when the railway system at length +enclosed it in its arms, the attention seemed to have come too late. All +the heat of life appeared to have chilled out of Dukes-Keeton in the +mean time, and it lay now between two railways almost as inanimate and +hopeless a lump as the child to whom the Erl-king's touch is fatal in +his father's arms. + +The park, with its huge palace-like, barrack-like house, not a castle, +and too great to be called merely a hall, lies almost immediately +outside the town. From streets and shops the visitor passes straightway +through the gates of the great enclosure. Every stranger who has seen +the house is taken at once to see another object of interest. + +In the centre of the park was a broad, clear space, made by the felling +and removing of every tree, until it spread there sharp and hard as a +burnt-out patch in a forest. Gravel and small shells made the pavement +of this space, and thus formed a new contrast with the turf, the +grasses, and the underwood of the park all around. In the midst of this +open space there rose a large circular building: a tower low in height +when the bulk enclosed by its circumference was considered, and standing +on a great square platform of solid masonry with steps on each of its +sides. The tower itself reminded one of the tomb of Cecilia Metella, or +some other of the tombs that still stand near Rome. It was in fact the +mausoleum which it had pleased the father of the present owner to have +erected for himself during his lifetime. He lavished money on it, cared +nothing for the cost of materials and labor, planned it out himself, +watched every detail, and stood by the workmen as they toiled. Within he +had prepared a lordly reception-room for his dead body when he should +come to die. A superb sarcophagus of porphyry, fit to have received the +remains of a Cæsar, was there. When the work was done and all was ready, +the lonely owner visited it every day, unlocked its massive gate, and +went in, and sat sometimes for hours in his own mausoleum. He was +growing insane, people thought, in these later days, and they counted on +his soon becoming an actual madman. So far, however, he showed no +greater madness than in wasting his money on a huge tomb, and wasting so +much of his time in visiting it prematurely. The tomb proved a vanity in +a double sense. For the noble owner was seized with a sudden mania for +travel, and resolved to go round the world. Somewhere in mid ocean he +was attacked by fever, or what alarmed people called the plague, and he +died, and his body had to be committed without much delay or ceremonial +to the sea. He had built his monument to no purpose. He was never to +occupy it. It stood a vast and solid gibe at the vanity of its founder. + +Over the great gate through which the mausoleum was entered were three +heads sculptured in stone. One was that of a man in the prime of +manhood, with lips and eyebrows contracted and puckered, forehead +wrinkled, eyes full of anxious strain, all telling of care, of pain, of +sleepless struggle against difficulty, watchfulness to ward off danger. +This was Life. The next was the face of the same man with the eyes +closed and the cheeks sunken, and the expression of one who had fallen +into sleep from pain--the struggle and agony gone indeed, but their +shadow still resting on the brows and the lips: and that of course was +Death. The third piece of carving showed the same face still, but now +with clear eyes looking broadly and brightly forward, and with features +all noble, serene, and glad. This was Eternity. These three faces were +the wonder and admiration of the neighborhood, and had been for now some +years back employed to solve the problem of existence for all the little +lads and lasses of Keeton who might otherwise have failed sometimes to +see the harmonious purpose working in all things. The sculptor had it +all his own way, and took care that Life should have the worst of it. +Keeton was in almost all its conditions a place of rather sleepy +contentment, and its people could be trusted to take just as much of the +moral as was good for them, and not to carry to extremes the lesson as +to the discomfort and dissatisfaction of the probationary life-period. +Otherwise there might perhaps be a chance that impressionable, not to +say morbid, persons would desire to hurry very rapidly through the dark +and anxious vestibule of life in order to get into the broad bright +temple of Eternity. + +Some thought like this was passing through the mind of Miss Minola Grey, +who sat on the steps of the tomb and looked up into the faces +illustrative of man's struggle and final success. Life had long been +wearing a hard and difficult appearance to her, and she would perhaps +have been glad enough sometimes if she could have got into the haven of +quiet waters which, in the minds of so many people and in so many +symbolic representations, is made to stand for Eternity. She was a +handsome, graceful girl, rather tall, fair-haired, with deep bluish gray +eyes which seemed to darken as they looked earnestly at any one--eyes +which might be described in Matthew Arnold's words as "too expressive to +be blue, too lovely to be gray"--with a broad forehead, from which the +hair was thrown back in disregard of passing fashions. Perhaps it was +her attitude, as she leaned her chin upon her hand and looked up at the +mausoleum--perhaps it was the presence of that gloomy building +itself--that made her face seem like an illustration of melancholy. +Certainly her face was pale and a little wanting in fulness, and the +lips were of the kind that one can always think of as tremulous with +emotion of some kind. This was a beautiful summer evening, and all the +park around was green, sunny, and glad. The dry bare spot on which the +tomb was built seemed like a gray and withering leaf on a bright branch; +and the figure of the girl was more in keeping with the melancholy +shadow of the mausoleum than the joyousness of the sun and the trees and +the whole scene all around. + +Indeed, there was a good deal of melancholy in the girl's mind at that +moment. She was taking leave of the place: had come to say it a +farewell. That park had been her playground, her studio, her stage, her +world of fancy and romance and poetry since her infancy. She had driven +her brother as a horse there, and had played with him at hunting lions. +She had studied landscape drawing there from the days when a half +staggery stroke with some blotches out of it was supposed to represent a +tree, and a thing shaped like the trade-mark on Mr. Bass's beer bottles +stood for a mountain. As she grew up she came there to read and to idle +and to think. There she revelled in all the boundless fancies and +extravagant ambitions of a clever, half-poetic child. There she was in +turn the heroine of every book that delighted her, and the heroine of +stories which had never been put into print. Heroes of surpassing +beauty, strength, courage, and devotion had rambled under these trees +for years with her, nor had the new-comer's presence ever been made a +cause of jealousy or complaint by the one whom his coming displaced. +They were a strange procession of all complexions and garbs. Achilles +the golden-haired had been with her in his day, and so had the +melancholy Master of Ravenswood: and the young Djalma, the lover of +Adrienne of the "Juif Errant," forgotten of English girls to-day; and +Nello, the proud gondolier lad with the sweet voice, who was loved by +the mother and the daughter of the Aldinis; and the unnamed youth who +went mad for Maud; and Henry Esmond, and Stunning Warrington, and Jane +Eyre's Rochester, and ever so many else. Each and all of these in turn +loved her and was passionately loved by her, and all had done great +things for her; and for each she had done far greater things. She had +made them victorious, crowned them with laurels, died for them. It was a +peculiarity of her temperament that when she read some pathetic story it +was not at the tragic passages that her tears came. It was not the +deaths that touched her most. It was when she read of bold and generous +things suddenly done, of splendid self-sacrifice, of impossible rescue +and superhuman heroism, that she could not keep down her feelings, and +was glad when only the watching, untelltale trees could see the tears in +her eyes. + +She had, however, two heroes chief over all the rest, whose story she +found it impossible to keep apart, and whom she blended commonly into +one odd compound. These were Hamlet and Alceste, the "Misanthrope" of +Molière. It was sometimes Alceste who offered to be buried quick with +Ophelia in the grave; and it was often Hamlet who interjected his scraps +of poetic cynicism between the pretty and scandalous prattlings of +Célimène and her petticoaterie. But perhaps Alceste came nearest to the +heart of our young maid as she grew up. She said to herself over and +over again that "C'est n'estimer rien qu'estimer tout le monde." She +refused "d'un coeur la vaste complaisance qui ne fait de mérite aucune +différence," and declared that "pour le trancher net l'ami du genre +humain n'est point du tout mon fait." No doubt there was unconscious or +only half conscious affectation in this, as there is in the ways of +almost all young people who are fond of reading; and her way of thinking +herself a girl-Alceste would probably have vanished with other whims, or +been supplanted by fancies of imitation caught from other models, if +everything had gone well with her. But several causes conspired as she +grew into a woman to make her think very seriously that Alceste was not +wrong in his general estimate of men and their merits. She was intensely +fond of her mother, and when her mother died her father married again, +his second wife being a young woman who put him under the most absolute +control, being not by any means an ill-natured person, but only +strong-willed, serene, and stupid. Then her brother, to whom she was +devoted, and who was her absolute confidant, went away to Canada, +declaring he would not stand a stepmother, and that as soon as his +sister grew old enough to put away domestic control he would send for +her; and he soon got married and became a prominent member of the +Dominion Legislature, and in none of his not over frequent letters said +a word about his promise to send for her. Now, her father was some time +dead; her stepmother had married Mr. Saulsbury, an elderly Nonconformist +minister, who was shocked at all the ways of Alceste's admirer, and with +whom she could not get on. It would take a very sweet and resigned +nature to make one who had had these experiences absolutely in love with +the human race, and especially with men; and Alceste accordingly became +more dear than ever to Miss Grey. + +Now she was about to leave the place and open of her own accord a new +chapter in life. She had to escape at once from the dislike of some and +the still less endurable liking of others. She was determined to go, and +yet as she looked around upon the place, and all its dear sweet memories +filled her, it is no wonder if she envied the calmness of the face that +symbolized eternal rest. At last she broke down, and covered her face +with her hands, and gave herself up to tears. + +Her quick ears, however, heard sounds which she knew were not those of +the rustling woods. She started to her feet and dried her eyes hastily. +Straight before her now there lay the long broad path through the trees +which led up to the gate of the mausoleum. The air was so exquisitely +pure and still that the footfall of a person approaching could be +distinctly heard by the girl, although the newcomer was yet far away. +She could see him, however, and recognized him, and she had no doubt +that he had seen her. A thought of escape at first occurred to her; but +she gave it up in a moment, for she knew that the person approaching had +come to seek her, and must have seen her before she saw him. So she sat +down again defiantly and waited. She did not look his way, although he +raised his hat to her more than once. + +As he comes near we can see that he is a handsome, rather stiff looking +man, with full formal dark whiskers, clearly cut face, and white teeth. +His hat is very shiny. He wears a black frock coat buttoned across the +chest, and dark trowsers, and dainty little boots, and gray gloves, and +has a diamond pin in his necktie. He is Mr. Augustus Sheppard, a very +considerable person indeed in the town. Dukes-Keeton, it should be said, +had three classes or estates. The noble owners of the park and the +guests whom they used to bring to visit them in their hospitable days +made one estate. The upper class of the town made another estate; and +the working people and the poor generally made the third. These three +classes (there were at present only two of them represented in Keeton) +were divided by barriers which it never occurred to any imagination to +think of getting over. Mr. Augustus Sheppard was a leading man among the +townspeople. His father was a solicitor and land agent of old standing, +and Mr. Augustus followed his father's profession, and now did by far +the greater part of its work. He was a member of the Church of England +of course, but he made it part of his duty to be on the best terms with +the Dissenters, for Keeton was growing to be very strong in dissent of +late years. Mr. Augustus Sheppard had done a great deal for the mental +and other improvement of the town. It was he who got up the Mutual +Improvement Society, and made himself responsible for the rent of the +hall in which the winter course of lectures, organized by him, used to +take place; and he always gave a lecture himself every season, and he +took the chair very often and introduced other lecturers. He always +worked most cordially with the Rev. Mr. Saulsbury in trying to restrict +the number of public houses, and he was one of the few persons whom Mrs. +Saulsbury cordially admired. He had a word of formal kindness for every +one, and was never heard to say an ill-natured thing of any one behind +his or her back. He was vaguely believed to be ambitious of worldly +success, but only in a proper and becoming way, and far-seeing people +looked forward to finding him one day in the House of Commons. + +As he came near the mausoleum he raised his hat again, and then the girl +acknowledged his salute and stood up. + +"A very lovely evening, Miss Grey." + +"Yes," said Miss Grey, and no more. + +"I have been at your house, Miss Grey, and saw your people; and I heard +that possibly you were in the park. I thought perhaps you would have +been at home. When I saw you last night you seemed to believe that you +would be at home all the day." This was said in a gentle tone of implied +reproach. + +"_You_ spoke then of walking in the park, Mr. Sheppard." + +"And I have kept my word, you see," Mr. Sheppard said, not observing the +implied reason for her change of purpose. + +"Yes, I see it now," she answered, as one who should say, "I did not +count upon it then." + +Of all men else, Minola Grey would have avoided him. She knew only too +well what he had come for. She would perhaps have disliked him for that +in any case, but she certainly disliked him on his own account. His +formal and heavy manners impressed her disagreeably, and she liked to +say things that puzzled and startled him. It was a pleasure to her to +throw some paradox or odd saying at him, and watch his awkward attempts +to catch it, and then while he was just on the point of getting at some +idea of it to bewilder him with some new enigma. To her he seemed to be +what he was not, simply a sham, a heavy piece of hypocrisy. Formalism +and ostentatious piety she recognized as part of the business of a +Nonconformist minister, in whom they were excusable, as his grave garb +would be, but they seemed insufferably out of place when adopted by a +layman and a man of the world, who was still young. + +"I am glad to have found you at last," Mr. Sheppard said, with a grave +smile. + +"You might have found me at first," Minola said, quoting from Artemus +Ward, "if you had come a little sooner, Mr. Sheppard. I have only lately +escaped here." + +"I wish I had known, and I would have come a great deal sooner. May I +take the liberty of sitting beside you?" + +"I am going to stand, Mr. Sheppard. But that need not prevent you from +sitting." + +"I should not think of sitting unless you do. Shall we walk a little +among the trees? This is a gloomy spot for a young lady." + +"I prefer to stand here for a little, Mr. Sheppard, but don't let me +keep you from enjoying a walk." + +"Enjoying a walk?" he said, with a grave smile and solemn emphasis. +"Enjoying a walk, Miss Grey--and without you?" + +She deliberately avoided meeting the glance with which he was +endeavoring to give additional meaning to this polite speech. She knew +that he had come to make love to her; and though she was longing to have +the whole thing done with, as it must be settled one way or the other, +she detested and dreaded the ordeal, and would have put it off if she +could. So she did not give any sign of having understood or even heard +his words, and the opportunity for going on with his purpose, which he +had hoped to extract, was lost for the moment. In truth, Mr. Sheppard +was afraid of this girl, and she knew it, and liked him none the more +for it. + +"I have been studying something with great interest, Mr. Sheppard," she +began, as if determined to cut him off from his chance for the present. +"I have made a discovery." + +"Indeed, Miss Grey? Yes--I saw that you were in deep contemplation as I +came along, and I wondered within myself what could have been the +subject of your thoughts." + +She colored a little and looked suddenly at him, asking herself whether +he could have seen her tears. His face, however, gave no explanation, +and she felt assured that he had not seen them. + +"I have found, Mr. Sheppard, that some of the weaknesses of men are +alive in the insect world." + +"Indeed, Miss Grey? Some of the affections of men do indeed live, we are +told, in the insect world. So beautifully ordained is everything----" + +"The affectations I meant, not the affections of men, Mr. Sheppard. +Could you ever have believed that an insect would be capable of a +deliberate attempt at imposture?" + +"I should certainly not have looked for anything of the kind, Miss Grey. +But there is unfortunately so much of evil mixed up with all----" + +"So there is. I was going to tell you that as I came here and passed +through the garden, my attention was directed--is not that the proper +way to put it?" + +"To put it, Miss Grey?" + +"Yes; my attention was directed to a large, heavy, respectable +blue-bottle fly. He kept flying from flower to flower, and burying his +stupid head in every one in turn, and making a ridiculous noise. I +watched his movements for a long time. It was evident to the meanest +understanding that he was trying to attract attention and was hoping the +eyes of the world were on him. You should have seen his pretence at +enjoying the flowers and drinking in sweetness from them--and he stayed +longest on the wrong flowers!" + +"Dear me! Now why did he do that?" + +"Because he didn't know any better, and he was trying to make us think +he did." + +"But, Miss Grey--a fly--a blue-bottle! Now really--how did you know what +he was thinking of?" + +"I watched him closely--and I found him out at last. Have you not +guessed what the meaning of the whole thing was?" + +"Well, Miss Grey, I can't say that I quite understand it just yet; but I +am sure I shall be greatly interested on hearing the explanation." + +"It was simply the imposture of a blue-bottle trying to pass himself off +as a bee! It was man's affectation put under the microscope!" + +Mr. Sheppard looked up at her in the hope of catching from her face some +clear intimation as to whether she was in jest or earnest, and demeaning +himself accordingly. But her eyes were cast down and he could not make +out the riddle. Driven by desperation, he dashed in, to prevent the +possible propounding of another before he had time to come to his point. + +"All the professions of men are not affectations, Miss Grey! Oh, no: far +from it indeed. There are some feelings in our breasts which are only +too real!" + +She saw that the declaration was coming now and must be confronted. + +"I have long wished for an opportunity of revealing to you some of my +feelings, Miss Grey, and I hope the chance has now arrived. May I +speak?" + +"I can't prevent you from speaking, Mr. Sheppard." + +"You will hear me?" + +He was in such fear of her and so awkward about the terms of his +declaration of love that he kept clutching at every little straw that +seemed to give him something to hold on to for a moment's rest and +respite. + +"I had better hear you, I suppose," she said with an air of profound +depression, "if you will go on, Mr. Sheppard. But if you would please +me, you would stop where you are and say no more." + +"You know what I am going to say, Miss Grey--you must have known it this +long time. I have asked your natural guardians and advisers, and they +encourage me to speak. Oh, Miss Grey--I love you. May I hope that I may +look forward to the happiness of one day making you my wife?" + +It was all out now, and she was glad. The rest would be easy. He looked +even then so prosaic and formal that she did not believe in any of his +professed emotions, and she was therefore herself unmoved. + +"No, Mr. Sheppard," she said, looking calmly at him straight in the +face. "Such a day will never come. Nothing that I have seen in life +makes me particularly anxious to be married; and I could not marry you." + +He had expected evasion, but not bluntness. He knew well enough that the +girl did not love him, but he had believed that he could persuade her to +marry him. Now her pointblank refusal completely staggered him. + +"Why not, Miss Grey?" was all he could say at first. + +"Because, Mr. Sheppard, I really much prefer not to marry you." + +"There is not any one else?" he asked, his face for the first time +showing emotion and anger. + +The faint light of a melancholy smile crossed Minola's face. He grew +more angry. + +"Miss Grey--now, you must tell me that! I have a right to ask--yes: and +your people would expect me to ask. You must tell me _that_." + +"Well," she said, "if you force me to it, and if you will have an +answer, I must give you one, Mr. Sheppard. I have a lover already, and I +mean to keep him." + +Mr. Sheppard was positively shocked by the suddenness and coolness of +this revelation. He recovered himself, however, and took refuge in +unbelief. + +"Miss Grey, you don't mean it, I know--I can't believe it. Why, I have +known you and seen you grow up since you were a child. Mrs. Saulsbury +couldn't but know----" + +"Mrs. Saulsbury knows nothing of me: we know nothing of each other. I +_have_ a lover, Mr. Sheppard, for all that. Do you want to know his +name?" + +"I should like to know his name, certainly," the breathless Sheppard +stammered out. + +"His name is Alceste----" + +"A Frenchman!" Sheppard was aghast. + +"A Frenchman truly--a French gentleman--a man of truth and courage and +spirit and honor and everything good. A man who wouldn't tell a lie or +do a mean thing, or flatter a silly woman, or persecute a very unhappy +girl--no, not to save his soul, Mr. Sheppard. Do you happen to know any +such man?" + +"No such man lives in Keeton." He was surprised into simple earnestness. +"At least I don't know of any such man." + +"No; you and he are not likely to come together and be very familiar. +Well, Mr. Sheppard, that is the man to whom I am engaged, and I mean to +keep my engagement. You can tell Mrs. Saulsbury if you like." + +"But you haven't told me his other name." + +"Oh--I don't know his other name." + +"Miss Grey! Don't know his other name?" + +"No: and I don't think he has any other name. He has but the one name +for me, and I don't want any second." + +"Where does he live, then--may I ask?" + +"Oh, yes--I may as well tell you all now, since I have told you so much. +He only lives in a book, Mr. Sheppard; in what you would call a play," +she added with contemptuous expression. + +"Oh, come now--I thought you were only amusing yourself." A smile of +reviving satisfaction stole over his face. "I'm not much afraid of a +rival like that, Miss Grey--if he is my only rival." + +"I don't know why you talk of a rival," the young woman answered, with a +scornful glance at him; "but I can assure you he would be the most +dangerous rival a living man could have. When I find a man like him, Mr. +Sheppard, I hope he will ask me to marry him; indeed, when I find such a +man I'll ask him to marry me--and if he be the man I take him for, he'll +refuse me. I have told you all the truth now, Mr. Sheppard, and I hope +you will think I need not say any more." + +"Still, I'm not quite without hope that something may be done," Mr. +Sheppard said. "How if I were to study your hero's ways and try to be +like him, Miss Grey?" + +A great brown heavy velvety bee at the moment came booming along, his +ponderous flight almost level with the ground and not far above it. He +sailed in and out among the trees and branches, now burying himself for +a few seconds in some hollow part of a trunk, and then plodding through +air again. + +"Do you think it would be of any use, Mr. Sheppard," she calmly asked, +"if that honest bee were to study the ways of the eagle?" + +"You are not complimentary, Miss Grey," he said, reddening. + +"No: I don't believe in compliments: I very much prefer truth." + +"Still there are ways of conveying the truth--and of course I never +professed to be anything very great and heroic----" + +He was decidedly hurt now. + +"Mr. Sheppard," she said, in a softer and more appealing tone, "I don't +want to quarrel with you or with anybody, and please don't drive me on +to make myself out any worse than I am. I don't care about you, and I +never could. We never could get on together. I don't care for any man--I +don't like men at all. I wouldn't marry you if you were an emperor. But +I don't say anything against you; at least I wouldn't if you would only +let me alone. I am very unhappy sometimes--almost always now; but at +least I mean to make no one unhappy but myself." + +"That's what comes of books and poetry and solitary walks and nonsense! +Why can't you listen to the advice of those who love you?" + +She turned upon him angrily again. + +"Well, I am not speaking of myself now, but of your--your people, who +only desire your good. Mr. Saulsbury, Mrs. Saulsbury----" + +"Once for all, Mr. Sheppard, I shall not take their advice; and if you +would have me think of you with any kindness at all, any memory not +disagreeable and--and detestable, you will not talk to me of their +advice. Even if I had been inclined to care for you, Mr. Sheppard, you +took a wrong way when you came in their name and talked of their +authority. Next time you ask a girl to marry you, Mr. Sheppard, do it in +your own name." + +He caught eagerly at the kind of negative hope that seemed to be held +out to him. + +"If that's an objection," he began, "I assure you that I came quite of +my own motion, and I am the last man in the world to endeavor to bring +any unfair means to bear. Of course it is not as if they were your own +parents, and I can quite understand how a young lady must feel----" + +"I don't know much of how young ladies feel," Minola said quietly, "but +I know how I feel, Mr. Sheppard, and you know it too. Take my last word. +I'll never marry you. You only waste your time, and perhaps the time of +somebody else as well--some good girl, Mr. Sheppard, who would be glad +to marry you and whom you will be quite ready to make love to the day +after to-morrow." + +Her heart was hardened against him now, for she thought him mean and +craven and unmanly. Perhaps, according to her familiar creed, she ought +rather to have thought him manly, meanness being in that sense one of +the attributes of man. She did not believe in the genuineness of his +love, and in any case no thought was more odious to her than that of a +man pressing a girl to marry him if she did not love him and was not +ready to meet him half way. + +There was a curious contrast between these two figures as they stood on +the steps of that great empty tomb. The contrast was all the more +singular and even the more striking because the two might easily have +been described in such terms as would seem to suggest no contrast. If +they were described as a handsome young man (for he was scarcely more +than thirty) and a handsome young woman, the description would be +correct. He was rather tall, she was rather tall; but he was formal, +severe, respectable, and absolutely unpicturesque--she was picturesque +in every motion. His well-made clothes sat stiffly on him, and the first +idea he conveyed was that he was carefully dressed. Even a woman would +not have thought, at the first glance at least, of how _she_ was +dressed. She only impressed one with a sense of the presence of graceful +and especially emotional womanhood. The longer one looked at the two the +deeper the contrast seemed to become. Both, for example, had rather thin +lips; but his were rigid, precise, and seeming to part with a certain +deliberation and even difficulty. Hers appeared, even when she was +silent, to be tremulous with expression. After a while it would have +seemed to an observer, if any observing eye were there, that no power on +earth could have brought these two into companionship. + +"I won't take this as your final answer," he said, after one or two +unsuccessful efforts to speak. "You will consider this again, and give +it some serious reflection." + +She only shook her head, and once more seated herself on the steps of +the monument as if to suggest that now the interview was over. + +"You are not walking homeward?" he asked. + +"I am staying here for awhile." + +He bade her good morning and walked slowly away. A rejected lover looks +to great disadvantage when he has to walk away. He ought to leap on the +back of a horse, and spur him fiercely and gallop off; or the curtain +ought to fall and so finish up with him. Otherwise, even the most heroic +figure has something of the look of one sneaking off like a dog told +imperatively to "go home." Mr. Sheppard felt very uncomfortable at the +thought that he probably did not seem dignified in the eyes of Miss +Grey. He once glanced back uneasily, but perhaps it was not a relief to +find that she was not looking in his direction. + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE EVE OF LIBERTY. + +Miss Grey remained in the park until the sun had gone down and the +stars, with their faint light, seemed as she moved homeward to be like +bright sparkles entangled among the high branches of the trees. She had +a great deal to think of, and she troubled herself little about the +mental depression of her rejected lover. All the purpose of her life was +now summed up in a resolve to get away from Keeton and to bury herself +in London. + +She knew that any opposition to her proposal on the part of those who +were still supposed to be her guardians would only be founded on an +objection to it as something unwomanly, venturous, and revolutionary, +and not by any means the result of any grief for her going away. Ever +since her mother's death and her father's second marriage she had only +chafed at existence, and found those around her disagreeable, and no +doubt made herself disagreeable to them. She had ceased to feel any +respect for her father when he married again, and he knew it and became +cold and constrained with her. Only just before his death had there +been anything like a revival of their affection for each other. He had +been a man of some substance and authority in his town, had built +houses, and got together property, and he left his daughter a not +inconsiderable annuity as a charge upon his property, and placed her +under the guardianship of the elderly and respectable Nonconformist +minister, who, as luck would have it, afterward married his young widow. +Minola had seen so many marriages during her short experience, and had +disliked two at least of them so thoroughly, that she was much inclined +to say with one of her heroes that there should be no more of them. For +a long time she had made up her mind that when she came of age she would +go to London and live there. She still wanted a few months of the time +of independence, but the manner in which Mr. Augustus Sheppard was +pressed upon her by himself and others made her resolve to anticipate +the course of the seasons a little, and go away at once. In London she +made up her mind that she would lead a life of enchantment: of +delightful and semi-savage solitude, in the midst of the crowd; of wild +independence and scorn of all the ways of men, with books at her +command, with the art galleries and museums, of which she had read so +much, always within easy reach, and the streets which were alive for her +with such sweet and dear associations all around her. + +Miss Grey knew London well. She had never yet set foot in it, or been +anywhere out of her native town; but she had studied London as a general +may study the map of some country which he expects one day to invade. +Many and many a night, when all in the house but she were fast asleep, +she had had the map of London spread out before her, and had puzzled her +way through the endless intricacies of its streets. Few women of her +age, or of any age, actually living in the metropolis, had anything like +the knowledge of its districts and its principal streets that she had. +She felt in anticipation the pride and delight of being able to go +whither she would about London without having to ask her way of any one. +Some particular association identified every place in her mind. The +living and the dead, the romantic and the real, history and fiction, all +combined to supply her with labels of association, which she might +mentally put upon every quarter and district, and almost upon every +street which had a name worth knowing. As we all know Venice before we +have seen it, and when we get there can recognize everything we want to +see without need of guide to name it for us, so Minola Grey knew London. +It is no wonder now that her mind was in a perturbed condition. She was +going to leave the place in which so far all her life literally had been +passed. She was going to live in that other place which had for years +been her dream, her study, her self-appointed destiny. She was going to +pass away for ever from uncongenial and odious companionship, and to +live a life of sweet, proud, lonely independence. + +The loneliness, however, was not to be literal and absolute. In all +romantic adventures there is companionship. The knight has his squire, +Rosalind has her Celia. Minola Grey was to have her companion in her +great enterprise. It had not indeed occurred to her to think about the +inconvenience or oddness of a girl living absolutely alone in London, +but the kindly destinies had provided her with a comrade. Having +lingered long in the park and turned back again and again for another +view of some favorite spot, having gathered many a leaf and flower for +remembrance, and having looked up many times with throbbing heart at the +white, trembling stars that would shine upon her soon in London, Miss +Grey at last made up her mind and passed resolutely out at the great +gate and went to seek this companion. She was glad to leave the park now +in any case, for in the fine evenings of summer and autumn it was the +custom of Keeton people to make it their promenade. All the engaged +couples of the place would soon be there under the trees. When a lad and +lass were seen to walk boldly and openly together of evenings in that +park, and to pass and repass their neighbors without effort at avoiding +such encounters, it was as well known that they were engaged as though +the fact had been proclaimed by the town-crier. A jury of Keeton folk +would have assumed a promise of marriage and proceeded to award damages +for its breach if it were proved that a young man had walked openly for +any three evenings in the park with a girl whom he afterward declined to +make his wife. Minola did not care to meet any of the joyous couples or +their friends, and even already the twitter of voices and the titter of +feminine laughter were beginning to make themselves heard among the +darkling paths and across the broad green lanes of the park. + +From the gates of the park one passed, as has been said already, almost +directly into the town. The town itself was divided in twain by a river, +the river spanned by a bridge which had a certain fame from the fact of +its having been the scene of a brave stand and a terrible slaughter +during the civil wars after Charles I. had set up his standard at +Nottingham. To be sure there was not much left of the genuine old bridge +on which the fight was fought, nor did the broad, flat, handsome, and +altogether modern structure bear much resemblance to the sort of bridge +which might have crossed a river in the days of the Cavaliers. Residents +of Keeton always, however, boasted of the fact that one of the arches of +the bridge was just the same underneath as it had always been, and +insisted on bringing the stranger down by devious and grassy paths to +the river's edge in order that he might see for himself the old stones +still holding together which had perhaps been shaken by the tramp of +Rupert's troopers. On the park side of the bridge lay the genteeler and +more pretentious houses, the semi-detached villas and lodges and +crescents of Keeton; and there too were the humbler cottages. On the +other side of the bridge were the business streets and the clustering +shops, most of them old-fashioned and dark, with low, beetling fronts +and narrow panes in the windows, and only here and there a showy and +modern establishment, with its stucco front and its plate glass. The +streets were all so narrow that they seemed as if they must be only +passages leading to broader thoroughfares. The stranger walked on and +on, thinking he was coming to the actual town of Dukes-Keeton, until he +walked out at the other side and found he had left it behind him. + +Minola Grey crossed the bridge, although her own home lay on the side +nearest the park, and made her way through the narrow streets. She +glanced with a shudder at one formal official looking house of dark +brick which she had to pass, and the door of which bore a huge brass +plate with the words "Sheppard & Sheppard, Solicitors and Land Agents." +Another expression of dislike or pain crossed her handsome, pale, and +emotional face when she passed a little lane, closed at the further end +by the heavy, sombre front of a chapel, for it was there that she had +even still to pass some trying, unsympathetic hours of the Sunday +listening to a preacher whose eloquence was rather too familiar to her +all the week. At length she passed the front of a large building of +light-colored stone, with a Greek portico and row of pillars and high +flight of steps, and which to the eye of any intelligent mortal had +"Court House" written on its very face. Miss Grey went on and passed its +front entrance, then turning down a narrow street, of which the building +itself formed one side, she came to a little open door, went in, ran +lightly up a flight of stone steps, and found herself in dun and dimly +lighted corridors of stone. + +A ray or two of the evening light still flickered through the small +windows of the roof. But for this all would seemingly have been dark. +Minola's footfall echoed through the passages. The place appeared +ghostly and sad, and the presence of youth, grace, and energetic +womanhood was strangely out of keeping with all around. The whole +expression and manner of Miss Grey brightened, however, as she passed +along these gaunt and echoing corridors. In the sunlight of the park +there seemed something melancholy in the face of the girl which was not +in accord with her years, her figure, and her deep, soft eyes. Now, in +this dismal old passage of damp resounding stone, she seemed so joyous +that her passing along might have been that of another Pippa. The place +was not very unlike a prison, and an observer might have been pleased to +think that, as the light step of the girl passed the door of each cell, +and the flutter of her garments was faintly heard, some little gleam of +hope, some gentle memory, some breath of forgotten woods and fields, +some softening inspiration of human love, was borne in to every +imprisoned heart. But this was no prison; only the courthouse where +prisoners were tried; and its rooms, occupied in the day by judges, +lawyers, policemen, public, suitors, and culprits, were now locked, +empty, and silent. + +Minola went on, singing to herself as she went, her song growing louder +and bolder until at last it thrilled finely up to the stone roofs of the +grim halls and corridors. For Minola was of that temperament to which +resolve of any kind soon brings the excitement of high spirits, and she +sang now out of sheer courage and purpose. + +Presently she stopped at a low, dark, oaken door which looked as if it +might admit to some dingy lumber-room or closet; and this door opened +instantly and she was in presence of a pretty and cheerful little +picture. The side of the building where the room was set looked upon the +broadest and clearest space in the town, and through the open window +could be seen distinctly the glassy gray of the quiet river and even +the trees of the park, a dark mass beneath the pale summer sky. Although +the room was lit only by the twilight, in which the latest lingering +reflection of the sunset still lived, it looked bright to the girl who +had come from the heavy dusk and gloom of the corridors with their +roof-windows and their rows of grim doors. A room ought to look bright, +too, when the visitor on just appearing on its threshold is rushed upon +and clasped and kissed and greeted as "You dear, dear darling." Such a +welcome met Miss Grey, and then she was instantly drawn into the room, +the door of which was closed behind her. + +The occupant of the room who thus welcomed Minola was a woman not far +short probably of forty years of age. She was short, she was decidedly +growing fat, she had a face which ought from its outlines and its color +to be rather humorous and mirthful than otherwise, and a pair of very +fine, deep, and consequently somewhat melancholy eyes. These eyes were +the only beauty of Miss Mary Blanchet's face. She had not good sight, +for all their brightness. When any one talked with her at some little +distance across a room, or even across a broad table, he could easily +see by the irresponsive look of the eyes--the eyes which never quite +found a common focus with his even during the most animated interchange +of thought--that Miss Blanchet had short sight. But Miss Blanchet always +frankly and firmly declined to put on spectacles. "I have only my eyes +to boast of, my dear," she said to all her female advisers, "and I am +not going to cover them with ugly spectacles, you may be sure." Hers was +a life of the simplest vanity, the most innocent affectation. Her eyes +had driven her into poetry, love, and disappointment. She was understood +to have loved very deeply and to have been deserted. None of her friends +could quite remember the lover, but every one said that no doubt there +must have been such a person. Miss Blanchet never actually spoke of +him, but she somehow suggested his memory. + +Miss Blanchet was a poetess. She had published by subscription a volume +of verses, which was favorably noticed in the local newspapers and of +which she sent a copy to the Queen, whereof Her Majesty had been kindly +pleased to accept. Thus the poetess became a celebrity and a sort of +public character in Dukes-Keeton, and when her father died it was felt +that the town ought to do something for one who had done so much for it. +It made her custodian of the courthouse, entrusted with the charge of +seeing that it was kept clean, ventilated, water-besprinkled; that when +assizes came on, the judges' rooms were fittingly adorned and that +bouquets of flowers were placed every morning on the bench on which they +sat. This place Miss Blanchet had held for many years. The rising +generation had forgotten all about her poetry, and indeed, as she seldom +went out of her own little domain, had for the most part forgotten her +existence. + +When Minola Grey was a little girl her mother was one of Miss Mary +Blanchet's chiefest patronesses. It was in great measure by the +influence of Minola's father that Miss Blanchet obtained her place in +the courthouse. Little Minola thought her a great poetess and a +remarkably beautiful woman, and accepted somehow the impression that she +had a romantic and mysterious love history. It was a rare delight for +her to be taken to spend an evening with Miss Blanchet, to drink tea in +her pretty and well kept little room, to walk with her through the stone +passages of the courthouse, and hear her repeat her poems. As Minola +grew she outgrew the poems, but the affection survived; and after her +mother's death she found no congenial or sympathetic friend anywhere in +Keeton but Mary Blanchet. The relationship between the two curiously +changed. The tall girl of twenty became the leader, the heroine, the +queen; and Mary Blanchet, sensible little woman enough in many ways, +would have turned African explorer or joined in a rebellion of women +against men if Miss Grey had given her the word of command. + +"I know your mind is made up, dear, now that you have come," Miss +Blanchet said when the first rapture of greeting was over. + +Minola took off her hat and threw it on the little sofa with the air of +one who feels thoroughly at home. It may be remarked as characteristic +of this young woman that in going toward the sofa she had to pass the +chimney-piece with its mirror, and that she did not even cast a glance +at her own image in the glass. + +"Mary," she asked gravely, "am I a man and a brother, that you expect me +to change my mind? You are not repenting, I hope?" + +"Oh, no, my dear. I have all the advantages, you know. I am so tired of +this place and the work--dear me!" + +"And I hate to see you at such work. You might almost as well be a +servant. Years ago I made up my mind to take you out of this wretched +place as soon as I should be of age and my own mistress." + +"Well, I have sent in my resignation, and I am free. But I am a little +afraid about you. You have been used to every luxury--and the +carriage--and all that." + +"One of my ambitions is to drive in a hansom cab. Another is to have a +latch-key. Both will soon be gratified. I am only sorry for one thing." + +"What is that, dear?" + +"That we can't be Rosalind and Celia; that I can't put on man's clothes +and liberty." + +"But you don't like men--you always want to avoid them." + +Miss Grey said nothing in defence of her own consistency. She was +thinking that if she had been a man, she would have been spared the +vexation of having to listen to Mr. Augustus Sheppard's proposals. + +"I suspect," Miss Blanchet said, "that people will say we are more like +Don Quixote and Sancho Panza." + +"Which of us is the Sancho?" + +"Oh, I of course; I am the faithful follower." + +"You--poor little poetess, full of dreams, and hopes, and unselfishness! +Why, I shall have to see that you get something to eat at tolerably +regular intervals." + +"How happy we shall be! And I shall be able to complete my poem! Do you +know, Minola," she said confidentially, "I do believe I shall be able to +make a career in London. I do indeed! The miserable details of daily +life here pressed me down, down," and she pressed her own hand upon her +forehead to illustrate the idea. "There, in freedom and quiet, I do +think I shall be able to prove to the world that I am worth a hearing!" + +This was a tender subject with Miss Grey. She could not bear to disturb +by a word the harmless illusion of her friend, and yet the almost fierce +truthfulness of her nature would not allow her to murmur a sentence of +unmeaning flattery. + +"One word, Mary," she said; "if you grow famous, no marrying--mind!" + +Little Miss Blanchet laughed and then grew sad, and cast her eyes down. + +"Who would ask me to marry, my dearest? And even if they did, the buried +past would come out of the grave--and----" + +She slightly raised both hands in deprecation of this mournful +resurrection. + +"Well, I have all to go through with my people yet." + +"They won't prevent you?" Miss Blanchet asked anxiously. + +"They can't. In a few months I should be my own mistress; and what is +the use of waiting? Besides, they don't really care--except for the sake +of showing authority and proving to girls that they ought to be +contented slaves. They know now that I am no slave. I do believe my +esteemed step-father--or step-stepfather, if there is such a word--would +consent to emancipate me if he could do so with the proper +ceremonial--the slap on the cheek." + +The allusion was lost on Miss Blanchet. + +"Mr. Saulsbury is a stern man indeed," she said, "but very good; that we +must admit." + +"All good men, it seems, are hard, and all soft men are bad." + +"What of Mr. Augustus Sheppard?" Miss Blanchet asked softly. "How will +he take your going away?" + +"I have not asked him, Mary. But I can tell you if you care to know. He +will take it with perfect composure. He has about as much capacity for +foolish affection as your hearth-broom there." + +"I think you are mistaken, Minola--I do indeed. I think that man is +really----" + +"Well. Is really what?" + +"You won't be angry if I say it?" + +Minola seemed as if she were going to be angry, but she looked into the +little poetess's kindly, wistful eyes, and broke into a laugh. + +"I couldn't be angry with you, Mary, if I had ten times my capacity for +anger--and that would be a goodly quantity! Well, what is Mr. Sheppard +really, as you were going to say?" + +"Really in love with you, dear." + +"You kind and believing little poetess--full of faith in simple true +love and all the rest of it! Mr. Sheppard likes what he considers a +respectable connection in Keeton. Failing in one chance he will find +another, and there is an end of that." + +"I don't think so," Miss Blanchet said gravely. "Well, we shall see." + +"We shall not see him any more. We shall live a glorious, lonely, +independent life. I shall study humanity from some lofty garret window +among the stars. London shall be my bark and my bride, as the old songs +about the Rovers used to say. All the weaknesses of humanity shall +reveal themselves to me in the people next door to us and over the way. +I'll study in the British Museum! I'll spend hours in the National +Gallery! I'll lie under the trees in Epping Forest! I _think_ I'll go to +the gallery of a theatre! _Liberté, liberté, cherie!_" And Miss Grey +proceeded to chant from the "Marseillaise" with splendid energy as she +walked up and down the room with clasped hands of mock heroic passion. + +"You said something about a man and a brother just now, dear," Miss +Blanchet gently interposed. "I have something to tell you about a man +and a brother. _My_ brother is back again in London." + +Miss Blanchet made this communication in the tone of one who is trying +to seem as if it would be welcome. + +"Your brother? He has come back?" Miss Grey did not like to add, "I am +so sorry," but that was exactly what she would have said if she had +spoken her mind. + +"Yes, my dear--quite reformed and as steady as can be, and going to make +a great name in London. Oh, you may trust him to this time--you may +indeed." + +Miss Grey's handsome and only too expressive features showed signs of +profound dissatisfaction. + +"I couldn't help telling him that we were going to live in London--one's +brother, you know." + +"Yes, one's brother," Miss Grey said with sarcastic emphasis. "They are +an affectionate race, these brothers! Then he knows all about our +expedition? Has he been here, Mary?" + +"Oh, no, dear; but he wrote to me--such beautiful letters! Perhaps you +would like to read them?" + +Miss Grey was silent, and was evidently fighting some battle with +herself. At last she said: + +"Well, Mary dear, it can't be helped, and I dare say he won't trouble to +come very often to see _us_. But I hope he will come as often as you +like, for you might be terribly lonely. I don't care to know anybody. I +mean to study human nature, not to know people." + +"But you have some friends in London, and you are going to see them." + +"Oh--Lucy Money; yes. She was at school with us, and we used to be fond +of each other. I think of calling to see her, but she may be changed +ever so much, and perhaps we shan't get on together at all. Her father +has become a sort of great man in London, I believe--I don't know how. +They won't trouble us much, I dare say." + +The friends then sat and talked for a short time about their project. It +is curious to observe that though they were such devoted friends they +looked on their joint purpose with very different eyes. The young woman, +with her beauty, her spirit, and her talents, was absolutely sincere and +single-minded, and was going to London with the sole purpose of living a +free, secluded life, without ambition, without thought of any manner of +success. The poor little old maid had her head already filled with wild +dreams of fame to be found in London, of a distinguished brother, a +bright career, publishers seeking for everything she wrote, and her name +often in the papers. Devoted as she was to Miss Grey, or perhaps because +she was so devoted to her, she had already been forming vague but +delightful hopes about the reformed brother which she would not now for +all the world have ventured to hint to her friend. + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE MAN WITH A GRIEVANCE. + +Late that same night a young man stepped from a window in one of the +rooms on the third floor in the Hôtel du Louvre in Paris, and stood in +the balcony. It was a balcony in that side of the hotel which looks on +the Rue de Rivoli. The young man smoked a cigar and leaned over the +balcony. + +It was a soft moonlight night. The hour was late and the streets were +nearly silent. The latest omnibus had gone its way, and only now and +then a rare and lingering _voiture_ clicked and clattered along, to +disappear round the corner of the place in front of the Palais Royal. +The long line of gas lamps, looking a faint yellow beneath the hotel and +the Louvre Palace across the way, seemed to deepen and deepen into +redder sparks the further the eye followed them to the right as they +stretched on to the Place de la Concorde and the Champs Elysées. To the +left the young man, leaning from the balcony, could see the tower of St. +Jacques standing darkly out against the faint, pale blue of the +moonlighted sky. The street was a line of silver or snow in the +moonlight. + +The young man was tall, thin, dark, and handsome. He was unmistakably +English, although he had an excitable and nervous way about him which +did not savor of British coolness and composure. He seemed a person not +to take anything easily. Even the moonlight, and the solitude, and the +indescribably soothing and philosophic influence of the contemplation of +a silent city from the serene heights of a balcony, did not prevail to +take him out of himself into the upper ether of mental repose. He pulled +his long moustaches now and then, until they met like a kind of strap +beneath his chin, and again he twisted their ends up as if he desired to +appear fierce as a champion duellist of the Bonapartist group. He +sometimes took his cigar from his lips and held it between his fingers +until it went out, and when he put it into his mouth again he took +several long puffs before he quite realized the fact that he was puffing +at what one might term dry stubble. Then he pulled out a box of fusees +and lighted his cigar in an irritated way, as if he were protesting that +really the fates were bearing down upon him rather too heavily, and that +he was entitled to complain at last. + +"Good evening, sir," said a strong, full British voice that sounded just +at his elbow. + +The young man, looking round, saw that his next-door neighbor in the +hotel had likewise opened his window and stepped out on his balcony. The +two had met before, or at least seen each other before, once or twice. +The young man had seen the elder with some ladies at breakfast in the +hotel, and that evening he and his neighbor had taken coffee side by +side on the boulevards and smoked and exchanged a few words. + +The elder man's strong, rather under-sized figure showed very clearly in +the moonlight. He had thick, almost shaggy hair, of an indefinable dark +brownish color--hair that was not curly, that was not straight, that did +not stand up, and yet could evidently never be kept down. He had a rough +complexioned face, with heavy eyebrows and stubby British whiskers. His +hands were large and reddish-brown and coarse. He was dressed +carelessly--that is, his clothes were evidently garments that had cost +money, but he did not seem to care how he wore them. Any garment must +fall readily into shapelessness and give up trying to fit well on that +unheeding figure. The Briton did not seem exactly what one would at once +assume to be a gentleman. Yet he was not vulgar, and he was evidently +quite at his ease with himself. He looked somehow like a man who had +money or power of some kind, and who did not care whether people knew it +or did not know it. Our younger Briton had at the first glance taken him +for the ordinary English father of a family, travelling with his +womankind. But he had not seen him for two minutes at the breakfast +table before he observed that the supposed heavy father was never in a +fuss, had a way of having all his orders obeyed without trouble or +misunderstanding, and for all his strong British accent talked French +with entire ease and a sort of resolute grammatical accuracy. + +"Staying in Paris?" the elder man said--he too was smoking--when the +younger had replied to his salutation. + +"No; I am going home--I mean I am going to England--to-morrow." + +"Ay, ay? I almost wish I were too. I'm taking my wife and daughters for +a holiday. I don't much care for holidays myself. I hadn't time for +enjoyment of such things when I could enjoy them, and of course when you +get out of the way of enjoying yourself you never get into it again; +it's a sort of groove, I suppose. Anyhow, we don't ever enjoy much, our +people. You are English, I suppose?" + +"Yes, I am English." + +"Wish you weren't? I see." + +Indeed, the tone in which the young man answered the question seemed to +warrant this interpretation. + +"Excuse me; I didn't say that," the young man said, a little sharply. + +"No, no; I only thought you meant it. We are not bound, you know, to +keep rattling up the Rule Britannia always among ourselves." + +"I can assure you I am not at all inclined to rattle the Rule Britannia +too loudly," the young man said, tossing the end of his cigar away and +looking determinedly into the street with his hands dug deeply into his +pockets. + +The elder man smoked for a few seconds in silence, and looked up and +down the long straight line of street. + +"Odd," he said abruptly. "I always think of Balzac when I look into the +streets of Paris, and when I give myself time to think. Balzac sums up +Paris to me." + +"Yes," said the younger man, talking for the first time with an +appearance of genuine interest in the conversation; "but things must be +greatly changed since that time even in Paris, you know." + +"Changed? Not a bit of it. The outsides of course. The Louvre was half a +ruin the other day, and now it's getting all right again. That's change, +if you like to call it so. But the heart of things is just the same. +Balzac stands for Paris, believe you me." + +"I don't believe a word of it--not a word! I mean--excuse me--that I +don't agree with you." + +"Yes, yes: I understand what you mean. I'm not offended. Well?" + +"Well--I don't believe a bit that men and women ever were like that. You +mean to tell me that people were made without hearts in Paris or +anywhere else? Do you believe in a place peopled by cads and sneaks and +curs--and the women half again as bad as the men?" + +The young man grew warm, and the elder drew him out, and they discussed +Balzac as they stood in the balcony and looked down on silent +moonlighted Paris. The elder man smoked and smiled and shrugged his +shoulders good-humoredly. The younger was as full of gesture and +animation as if his life depended on the controversy. + +"All right," the elder said at last. "I like to hear you talk, but Paris +is Balzac to me still. Going to be in London some time?" + +"I suppose so: yes," in a tone of sudden depression and discontent. + +"I wish we might meet. I live in London, and I wish you would come and +see me when we get back from our--holiday we'll call it." + +The young man turned half away and leaned on the balcony as if he were +looking very earnestly for something in the direction of the Champs +Elysées. Then he faced his companion suddenly and said, + +"I think you had much better not have anything to do with me: I should +only prove a bore to you, or to anybody." + +"How is that?" + +"Well--in short, I'm a man with a grievance." + +"Ay, ay? What's your grievance? Whom has it to do with?" + +The young man looked up quickly, as if he did not quite understand the +brusque ways of his new acquaintance, who put his questions so directly. +But the new acquaintance seemed good-humored and quite at his ease, and +evidently had not the least idea of being rude or over-inquisitive. He +had only the way of one apparently used to ordering people about. + +"My grievance is against the Government," the young man said with a +grave politeness, almost like self-assertion. + +"Government here: in France?" + +"No, no: our own Government." + +"Ay, ay? What have they been doing? _You_ haven't invented anything--new +cannon--flying machine--that sort of thing?" + +"No: nothing of the kind--I wish I had--but how did you know?" + +"How did I know what?" + +"That I hadn't invented anything?" + +"Why, I knew it by looking at you. Do you think I shouldn't know an +inventor? You might as well ask me how I know a man has been in the +army. Well, about this grievance of yours?" + +"I dare say you will know my name," the young man said with a sort of +reluctant modesty, which contrasted a little oddly with the quick +movements and rapid talk which usually belonged to him. Then his manner +suddenly changed, and he spoke in a tone of something like irritation, +as if he had better have the whole thing out at once and be done with +it--"My name is Heron--Victor Heron." + +"Heron--Heron?" said the other, turning over the name in his memory. +"Well, I don't know I'm sure--I may have heard it--one hears all sorts +of names. But I don't remember just at the moment." + +Mr. Heron seemed a little surprised that his revelation had produced no +effect. He had made up his mind somehow that his new friend was mixed up +with politics and public affairs. + +"You'll remember Victor Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements?" he said +decisively. + +"Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements? Ah, yes, yes. To be sure. Yes, I +begin to remember now. Of course, of course. You're the fellow who got +us into the row with the Portuguese or the Dutch, or who was it? About +the slave trade, or something? I remember it in the House." + +"I am the fool," Mr. Heron went on volubly--"the blockhead, the idiot, +that thought England had principles, and honor, and a policy, and all +the rest of it! I haven't lived in England very much. I'm the son of a +colonist--the Herons are an old colonial family--and you can't think, +you people always in England, how romantic and enthusiastic we get about +England, we silly colonists, with our old-fashioned ways. When I got +that confounded appointment--it was given in return for some old +services of my father's--I believe I thought I was going to be another +sort of Raleigh, or something of the kind." + +"Just so; and of course you were ready to tumble into any sort of +scrape. You are hauled over the coals--snubbed for your pains?" + +"Yes--I was snubbed." + +"Of course: they'll soon work the enthusiasm out of you. But that's a +couple of years ago--and you weren't recalled?" + +"No. I wasn't recalled." + +"Well, what's your grievance then?" + +"Why--don't you see?--my time is out--and they've dropped me down. My +whole career is closed--I'm quietly thrown over--and I'm only +twenty-nine!" The young man caught at his moustache with nervous hands +and kicked with one foot against the rails of the balcony. He gazed into +the street, and his eyes sparkled and twinkled as if there were tears in +them. Perhaps there were, for Mr. Heron was evidently a young man of +quicker emotions than young men generally show in our days. He made +haste to say something, apparently as if to escape from himself. + +"I am leaving Paris in the morning." + +"Then why don't you go to bed and have a sleep?" + +"Well, I don't feel like sleeping just yet." + +"You young fellows never know the blessing of sleep. I can sleep +whenever I want to--it's a great thing. I make it a rule though to do +all my sleeping at night, whenever I can. You leave Paris in the +morning? Now that's a thing I don't like to do. Paris should never be +seen early in the morning. London shows to the best advantage early; but +Paris--no!" + +"Why not?" Mr. Heron asked, stimulated to a little curiosity. + +"Paris is a beauty, you know, a little on the wane, and wanting to be +elaborately made up and curled and powdered and painted, and all that. +She's a little of a slattern underneath the surface, you know, and +doesn't bear to be taken unawares--mustn't be seen for at least an hour +or two after she has got out of bed. All the more like Balzac's women." + +Perhaps the elder man had observed Mr. Heron's sensitiveness more +closely and clearly than Heron fancied, and was talking on only to give +him time to recover his composure. Certainly he talked much more volubly +and continuously than appeared at first to be his way. After a while he +said, in his usual style of blunt but not unkind inquiry-- + +"Any of your people living in London?" + +"No--in fact, I haven't any people in England--few relations now left +anywhere." + +"Like Melchisedek, eh? Well, I don't know that he was the most to be +pitied of men. You have friends enough, I suppose?" + +"Not friends exactly--acquaintances enough, I dare say--people to call +on, people who remember one's name and who ask one to dinner. But I +don't know that I shall have much time for cultivating acquaintanceships +in the way of society." + +"Why so? What are you going to London to do?" + +"To get a hearing, of course. To make the whole thing known. To show +that I was in the right, and that I only did what the honor of England +demanded. I trust to England." + +"What's England got to do with it? England is only so many men and women +and children all concerned in their own affairs, and not caring twopence +about you and me and our wrongs. Besides, who has accused you? Who has +found fault with you? Your time is out, and there's an end." + +"But they have dropped me down--they think to crush me." + +"If they do, it will be by severely letting you alone; and what can you +do against that? You can't quarrel with a man merely because he ceases +to invite you to dinner, and that's about the way of it." + +"I'll fight this out for all that." + +"You'll soon get tired of it. It's beating the air, you know. Of course, +if you want to annoy the Government, you could easily get some of us to +take up your case--no difficulty about that--and make you the hero of a +grievance and a debate, and so on." + +"I want nothing of the kind! I don't want any one to trouble himself +about me, and I don't care to be taken in hand by any one. If Englishmen +will not listen to a plain statement of right, why then----But I know +they will." + +The conviction itself was expressed in the tone of one who by its very +assertion protests against a rising doubt and tries to stifle it. + +"Very good," said the other. "Try it on. We shall soon see. I have a +sort of interest in the matter, for I had a grievance myself, and I have +still, only I went about things in a different way--looking for redress, +I mean." + +"What did you do?" + +"It's a longish story, and quite a different line from yours, and it +would bore you to hear, even if you understood it. I got into the House +and made myself a nuisance. I put money in my purse; it came in somehow. +I watch the department that I once belonged to with the eye of a lynx. +Well, I shall look out for you and give you a hand if I can, always +supposing it would annoy the Government--any Government--I don't care +what." + +Mr. Heron looked at him with wonder and incredulity. + +"Terrible lack of principle, you think? Not a bit of it; I'm a strong +politician; I stick to my side through thick and thin. But in their +management of departments, you know--contracts, and all +that--governments are all the same; the natural enemies of man. Well, I +hope to see you. I am going to have a sleep. Let me give you my +address--though in any case I think we are certain to meet." + +They parted with blunt expression of friendly inclination on the one +side and a doubtful, half-reluctant acknowledgment on the other. Heron +remained standing in his balcony looking at the changes of the moonlight +on the silent streets and thinking of his career and his grievance. + +The nearer he came to England the colder his hopes seemed to grow. Now +upon the threshold of the country he had so longed to reach, he was +inclined to linger and loiter and to put off his entrance. Everything +that was so easy and clear a few thousand miles off began to show itself +perplexed and difficult. "When shall I be there?" he used to ask himself +on his homeward journey. "What have I come for?" he began to ask himself +now. + +Times had indeed changed very suddenly with Victor Heron. He had come +into the active world perhaps rather prematurely. When very young, under +the guidance of an energetic and able father who had been an +administrator of some distinction in England's service among her +dependencies, he had made himself somewhat conspicuous in one of the +colonies; and when an opportunity occurred, after his father's death, of +offering him a considerable position, the Government appointed him to +the administration of a new settlement. It is hardly necessary for us to +go any deeper into the story of his grievance than he has already gone +himself in a few words. Except as an illustration of his character, we +have not much to do with the story of his career as an administrator. It +was a very small business altogether; a quarrel in a far off, lately +appropriated, and almost wholly insignificant scrap of England's +domains. Probably Mr. Heron was in the wrong, for he had been stimulated +wholly by a chivalrous enthusiasm for the honor of England's principles +and a keen sense of what he considered justice. The Government had +dealt very kindly with him in consideration of his youth and of his +father's services, and had merely dropped him down. + +This to a young man like Heron was simply killing with kindness. He +could have stood up stoutly against impeachment, trial, punishment, any +manner of exciting ordeal, and commanded his brave heart to bear it. But +to be quietly allowed to go his way was intolerable, and, being accused +of nothing, he was rushing back to England to insist on being accused of +something. A chief of any kind in a small dependency is a person of +overwhelming greatness and importance in his own sphere. Every eye there +is literally on him. He diffuses even a sort of impression as if he were +a good deal too large for his sphere, like the helmet of such portentous +size in the courtyard of Otranto. To come down all at once to be an +ordinary passenger to England, an ordinary "No. 257, au 3me" at the +Hôtel du Louvre in Paris, an obscure personage getting out at the +Charing Cross station and calling a hansom, nobody caring whence he has +come, or capable, even after elaborate reminder, of calling to memory +his story, his grievance, or his identity--this is something to try the +soul of a patient man. Mr. Heron was not patient. + +He was a young Quixote out of time and place. He never could let +anything alone. He could not see a grievance without trying to set it +right. The impression that anybody was being wronged or cheated affected +and tormented him as keenly as a discordant note or an inharmonious +arrangement of colors might disturb persons of loftier artistic soul. In +the colonies queer old ideas survive long after they have died out of +England, and the traveller from the parent country comes often on some +ancient abstraction there as he might upon some old-fashioned garment. +Heron started into life with a full faith in the living reality of +divers abstractions which people in England have long since dissected, +analyzed, and thrown away. He believed in and spoke of progress, and +humanity, and brotherhood, and such like vaguenesses as if they were +real things to work for and love. People who regard abstractions as +realities are just the very persons who turn solid and commonplace +realities into shining and splendid abstractions. Young Heron regarded +England not as an island with a bad climate, where some millions of +florid men made money or worked for it, but as a sort of divine +influence inspiring youth to noble deeds and patriotic devotion. He was +of course the very man to get into a muddle when he had anything to do +with the administration of a new settlement. If the muddle had not lain +in his way, he would assuredly have found it. + +He had so much to do now on his further way home in helping elderly +ladies on that side who could not speak French, and on this side who +could not speak English; in seeing that persons whom he had never set +eyes on before were not neglected at buffets, left behind by trains, or +overcharged by waiters; in giving and asking information about +everything, that he had not much time to think about the St. Xavier's +settlements and his personal grievance. When the suburbs of London came +in sight, with their trim rows of stucco-fronted villas and cottages, +and their front gardens ornamented with the inevitable evergreens, a +thrill of enthusiasm came up in Heron's breast, and he became feverish +with anxiety to be in the heart of the great capital once again. Now he +began to see familiar spires, and domes, and towers, and then again +huge, unfamiliar roofs and buildings that were not there when he was in +London last, and that puzzled him with their presence. Then the train +crossed the river, and he had glimpses of the Thames, and Westminster +Palace, and the embankment with its bright garden patches and its little +trees, and he wondered at the ungenial creatures who see in London +nothing but ugliness. To him everything looked smiling, beautiful, alive +with hope and good omen. + +Certainly a railway station, an arrival, a hurried transaction, however +slight and formal, with a customs officer, are a damper on enthusiasm of +any kind. Heron began to feel dispirited. London looked hard and +prosaic. His grievance began to show signs of breaking out again amid +the hustling, the crowd, the luggage, and the exertion, as an old wound +might under similar circumstances, if one in his haste and eagerness +were to strain its hardly closed edges. + +It was when he was in a hansom driving to his hotel that Heron, putting +his hand in his waistcoat pocket, drew out a crumpled card which he had +thrust in there hastily and forgotten. The card bore the name of + + "MR. CROWDER E. MONEY, + Victoria street, + Westminster." + +Heron remembered his friend of Paris. "An odd name," he thought. "I have +heard it before somewhere. I like him. He seems a manly sort of fellow." + +Then he found himself wondering what Mr. Money's daughters were like, +and wishing he had observed them more closely in Paris, and asking +whether it was possible that girls could be pretty and interesting with +such an odd name. + + + + +DRIFT-WOOD. + + +THE SPINNING OF LITERATURE. + +"Of making many books there is no end," sighed a preacher in times when +industrious readers might presumably have kept the run of current +literature. Our advantage over Solomon is the utter hopelessness of +reading the new works, not to speak of standard acres in the libraries. +In this holiday season, chief hatching-time of books, it is pleasant to +see them flocking out in numbers so vast. "Germany published 11,315 +works of all classes in 1873, 12,070 in 1874, 12,516 in 1875." We rub +our hands over statistics like these, because they check any mad +ambition to master German contemporary literature; and besides, there +are "1,622 newspapers and periodical publications in the German empire." +As for the new works in our own tongue, the only way of getting through +them would obviously be to do as legislators do with the laws they +pass--"read them by title." + +Earlier ages, that had not reached this happy hopelessness, produced +great bookworms. When the old monks had devoured their convent +libraries, they were fain to pay vast sums occasionally for extra +reading, as St. Jerome did for the works of Origen; whereas now a +reviewer can only glance at his "complimentary copies" of new books, so +numerous are they. Bacon argued against abridgements, as if the body of +literature could be compassed in his day. A century or two ago there +were prodigious Porsons and Johnsons; but such gluttons are now rare. It +is true that Mill, between his fourth and eighth years, read in the +original all Herodotus and a good part of Xenophon, Lucian, Isocrates, +Diogenes Laertius, Plato, and the Annual Register, besides Hume, Gibbon, +Robertson, Miller, Mosheim, and other historians; while before the age +of thirteen he had mastered the whole of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Sallust, +Thucydides, Aristotle's Rhetoric and Logic, Tacitus, Juvenal, +Quinctilian, parts of Ovid, Terence, Nepos, Cæsar, Livy, Lucretius, +Cicero, Polybius, and many other authors, besides learning geometry, +algebra, and the differential calculus. But that lad was crammed +scientifically like a Strasbourg goose; our ordinary modern writers are +not walking cyclopædias, and are rarely prodigious readers. It is no +longer a reproach even for a man not to know all the literature of his +specialty; while, as for general reading, when the "Publisher's +Circular" tells us that the different books that mankind have made are +numbered by millions, we sit down in a most comfortable despair, and +pick to our liking. + +Thanks to modern fecundity, critics rarely molest authors with demands +for the _raison d'être_ of a new book. The reviewer's question used to +be, "Why did the man publish? What need was there? What is he trying to +show?" One pontiff is said to have suggested burning up all the +different books in the world, except six thousand, so that the rest +might be read. There used to be pleas for condensations, as if people +were still fondly hoping to compass the realm of literature and science, +the blessed era of hopelessness having not yet dawned. But it is idle to +plead against diffuseness now, when writers are paid by the page or +line. "I want," said the editor of "La Situation" to Dumas, "a story +from you, entitled 'Terreur Prussienne à Francfort'--60 _feuilletons_ of +400 lines each; total, 84,000 lines." "And if it makes only 58?" +responded Dumas. "I require 60, of 400 lines each, averaging 31 letters +each line--744,000 letters." At noon of the day agreed upon, the +manuscript was in the hands of M. Hollander. If Sir Critic ever came +with foot-rule and condensing-pump to gravely detect diffusiveness in +the "Terreur Prussienne," it must have diverted the high contracting +parties. + +It is said that a dialogue of Dumas the elder created a revolution in +the French mode of paying romance literature. Dumas, who was reckoned by +the line, one day introduced, they say, into his _feuilleton_ this +thrilling passage: + + My son! + My mother! + Listen! + Speak! + Seest thou? + What? + This poniard! + It is stained-- + With blood! + Whose? + Thy father's. + Ah!!! + +After that Dumas was paid by the letter. To say sooth, the same +incident, with a different catastrophe, is related of Ponson Du Terrail, +who, one day, in his "Resurrection de Rocambole," filled about a column +with dialogue of this character: + + Who? + I. + You? + Yes. + He shuddered. + +Accordingly, as the story goes, the author being summoned before the +editor of the "Petit Journal," was notified that if this monosyllabic +chat went on, he would be paid by the word. "Very well," replied the +obliging novelist, "I will change my style;" and next day, M. Millaud +was astounded to find the _feuilleton_ introducing a pair of stammerers +talking in this agreeable fashion: + + "Wou-wou-would you de-de-de-deceive me, you wr-wr-wretch?" said + the old corsair in a tone of thunder. + + "I ne-ne-ne-never de-de-de-deceived an-an-an-anybody," + exclaimed Baccarat, imitating the other's defect in + pronunciation. + + "Wh-wh-wh-where is Ro-ro-rocam-bo-bole?" + + "You ne-ne-never will kn-know." + +"He will make all his characters stutter soon," said Millaud. "We had +better pay him by the line." Of course this is a story _faite à +plaisir_, as is also the one that as soon as Dumas made his first +contract by the line, enchanted with the arrangement, he invented dear +old Grimaud, who only opened his mouth to utter "yes," "no," "what?" +"ah!" "bah!" and other monosyllables; but when the editor, who knew the +cash price of "peuh" and "oh," declared he would only pay for lines half +full, Grimaud was slaughtered the next morning. However, these yarns +show that the French can satirize their jerky, staccato style of +_feuilleton_, with each sentence staked off in a paragraph by itself, +like some grimacing clown, who expects each particular joke or +handspring to be observed individually, and to be greeted with separate +applause. Across the channel we of course find the English journals +going to the other extreme, in insular pride, and packing distinct +subjects into the same paragraph. + +Greek and Roman Tuppers used, no doubt, to "reel off a couple of hundred +lines, standing on one foot;" but the veneering of a thin layer of ideas +upon a thick layer of words is naturally the special trait of our age of +cheap ink and paper, of steam printing, and of paying for writing by +long measure. The "Country Parson" is a favorite writer of this sort, +whose excellence is in "the art of putting things," rather than in +having many things to put. The essays of the "Spectator," "Guardian," +"Tatler," "Rambler," rarely gave only a pennyworth of wit to an +intolerable deal of words; but our modern periodical essay achieves +success by taking some such assertion as "Old maids are agreeable," or +"Old maids are disagreeable," and wire-drawing it into sundry yards of +readable matter. Macbeth's + + The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon! + Where got'st thou that goose-look? + +would supply a modern playwright with a square foot of gold-beaten +invective. "True poems," said Irving, "are caskets which enclose in a +small compass the wealth of the language--its family jewels." But when +poems are paid by the line, bards are pardonable for diffuseness. And +then, besides diffuseness, our age has wonderful literary fecundity. Few +people know how much painters paint, and how much great writers write; +for the bards of a single poem, as Mr. Stedman shows, are exceptional, +and rich quantity as well as rich quality is the usual rule for +greatness, whether of novelist, poet, essayist, metaphysician, or +historian. So here we come upon another source of the accumulated floods +of literature. The other day I was looking through a prodigious list of +the works of Alexandre Dumas, _père_. There were 127 of them, mostly +novels--"Monte Christo," "Three Musketeers," "Bragelonne," and the rest +that we used to read. They made 244 volumes; but the plays were not +included, and many slighter miscellanies did not seem to be there; and +the posthumous work on cookery was certainly not there; and of course +there was no effort to collect everything from "Le Mois," "La Liberté," +and the half dozen other journals he edited or wrote in; so that I doubt +not the writings of this illustrious man, if ever brought together in a +complete edition, would make at least 150 works of 300 or 400 stout +volumes. And in English literature we have many Salas and Southworths. I +remember an announcement in the "Lancet" that "Mr. G. A. Sala is +completely restored to health, and in the full discharge of his +professional duties." An expressive term, that "full discharge"! + +Again, some popular authors employ apprentices to do the bulk of their +work, only touching it up with mannerisms, and so turn out much more +than if they wrought it all. The world, too, has now accumulated a +myriad handbooks of facts and compilations of statistics, which enable +writers with a fondness for theory, like Buckle, to have all their +material ready to spin into generalization. Then there is a popular +education toward prolixity in the telegraphic part of newspapers. The +associated press writers from Washington seem to be selected for their +inability to be terse and pithy, and dribble out the simplest fact with +pitiful iteration. The special news-writers, being often at their wits' +end for their dole of day's work, can hardly be asked to be laconic. The +special messages which the ocean wires bring, doubtless with exquisite +terseness and picturesqueness, are most carefully interwritten and +diluted; so that, for example, the words "Thiers spoke at Coulmiers" +become "M. Adolphe Thiers, president of the French Republic before the +accession of the present Chief Executive, Marshal MacMahon, delivered an +address, or rather made some remarks partly in the nature of an oration +or speech on subjects connected with matters of interest at the present +time, at the town of Coulmiers, which is situated"--and here follow a +dozen lines from the Cyclopædia, but dated at Paris, giving the +geography, history, and commerce of Coulmiers. One can fancy in the +"Atlantic cable" columns of the "Morning Meteor" the tokens of a +standing prescription to dilute foreign facts with nine parts domestic +verbiage; and this kind of "editing" educates mankind to padding and +patching with superfluous material. + +It is harder for French writers to be prolix. The French writer is +inevitably epigrammatic first, and, if diffusive afterward, it is with +malice aforethought. If we compare, for example, publicists like Guizot +and Gladstone, while each has that perfect command of his material, +instead of letting the material command him, which marks the skilful +writer, yet the Englishman sometimes seems to require two or three +consecutive sentences to bring out his thought, whereas M. Guizot packs +it into one. But Guizot deliberately goes on to put the identical +statement into two or three paraphrased forms. For example, in the +"History of Civilization in Europe" there is usually a terse sentence or +two in each paragraph which contain the whole of it, packed into +briefest compass; were these key sentences repeated on the side of the +page as marginal notes, the reader could master the book by mastering +the margins. When an English writer is diffuse, he cannot help it; when +a French writer is diffuse, he effects it by sheer effort at repetition. + +And we humble hack scribblers, who confidingly slip our daily, and +weekly, and monthly mites into the vast mass of current reading turned +out for an omnivorous public--let us hope that the world's maw may long +remain unsated and the market unglutted. + + +GROWTH OF AMERICAN TASTE FOR ART. + +While to many it has seemed a pity that the Johnston gallery should be +broken up, yet this distribution of its treasures scatters the seeds of +art education. Besides, the prices obtained at the sale must impress +many wealthy men with a conviction valuable to the interests of art; +namely, that pictures, like diamonds, are a safe investment, as well as +a source of enjoyment and fame. Considering that the times are hard, and +that pictures are luxuries, the sum thus paid for art treasures, so soon +after the centennial purchases, is a proof of the number of good patrons +that can be counted on when works of value are for sale. But the works +must be of value. At a former auction in New York "old masters" brought +these prices: Madonna Del Correggio, $30; two Murrillos, $160 and $90; a +landscape of Salvator Rosa, $55; a Tintoretto, $115; a Guido, $35; "St. +John," by Sir Joshua Reynolds, $15--and so on. Every few months we find +a so-called Titian or Raphael going for the price of the frame. Such +auctions tell a story as emphatic as that of the Johnston gallery. + +When the German painters were considering whether they should send +canvases to the Centennial Exposition the "Allgemeine Zeitung" reminded +them "that their works bring twice as much in America as in Germany." +But each successive sale here shows that most buyers now know what is +worth getting and what is not, though naturally some painters are the +rage who will be forgotten fifty years hence. Still, the cynics are +wrong in decrying the eagerness to buy painters who are in fashion. What +harm in a millionaire's ordering a picture _d'ameublement_, to suit a +particular room or panel, or in his ordering from the bookseller a +hundred volumes of current novels? If the picture be good, whether +bought by the foot for furnishing or whether painted under the +microscope, its sale may aid the profession of art. + +Comparing the Johnston sale with some of the famous auctions of the past +four years at the hotel Drouot, we find that in the Paturle collection +twenty-eight canvases bought $90,000, being all works of masters. The +general prices were not higher than the Johnston prices, but Ary +Scheffer's Marguerites brought 40,000 and 35,000 francs; a Troyon, +63,000; and Leopold Robert's admirable "Fishers of the Adriatic," 83,000 +francs. The gallery of the Pereires brought 1,785,586 francs, which was +rather higher than the Johnston total, but I believe there were more +masterpieces. A head by Greuze brought 32,500 francs. The highest prices +seemed to be carried off by the Dutch painters, who were in force, and +three works by Hobbema, a country residence, a forest scene, and a +windmill, brought respectively 50,000, 81,000, and 30,000 francs. + +The prices for good pictures, taking into account agreeableness of +subject and state of preservation, seem to be much the same in New York +and Paris, though French newspapers fancy American taste for art to be +at barbarian pitch. They should learn otherwise from the American +painting and sculpture in Paris, London, Vienna, Florence, and Rome; +they might learn otherwise from the discriminating appreciation of their +own artists at such sales as Mr. Johnston's. The worst statuary as well +as by far the best at Philadelphia last year was Italian, and some of +the worst painting as well as the best was Spanish. There is some +monstrous governmental art, no doubt, with us, but as for popular taste, +there is nothing in America so vulgar as the cheap glass necklaces, tin +spangles, and painted trinkets on the sacred images in the churches of +Southern Europe. American travellers speak of the contrast between the +beautiful cathedral and its hideous painted images bedizened with trash +to which dollar-store jewels are gems of art; and the approaches to a +splendid church or castle are very likely bedecked with clumsy, +unvolatile angels, most terrestrial and unlovely. It is true that the +decoration of temples and the adoration of images, whether under heathen +or Christian auspices, has always fostered art; but American popular +taste, low as it is supposed to be, would hardly set up in churches +statues of painted wood only fit for tobacco shops. In Rome, where +American taste is looked down upon, they have annual shows of painted +wooden figures of saints and angels, in all hues, each uglier than the +other, to be sold for putting upon the altars as votive offerings. In +fact, wherever the "Latin race" is, the popular taste runs to blocks of +the Virgin and Child resembling the lay figures in a tailor's shop. + +The leading thought on this subject is that art has made greater strides +in the United States within the past twenty years than for the century +preceding. Twenty years ago there was comparatively no art public at +all. There were not a quarter part as many foreign pictures here as +to-day; there were not a fourth part as many American artists. The +department of American water colors has been substantially created +within ten years. The facilities for art education have been quadrupled +within the same period, and the wealthy who form galleries have +multiplied in like proportion. American progress in science and +mechanism, though so great, falls short of American progress in taste +and American productivity in the fine arts. + + PHILIP QUILIBET. + + + + +SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + + +PROTECTION FROM LIGHTNING. + +Prof. Clerk Maxwell says that the ordinary lightning rod is a great +mistake. It acts to discharge electricity from the clouds at all +possible opportunities, but these discharges are smaller than would +occur without the rod. The true method is to encase the building in a +network of rods, when it will take its charge quietly like a Leyden jar. +Taking the case of a powder mill, it would be sufficient to surround it +with a conducting material, to sheathe its roof, walls, and ground-floor +with thick sheet copper, and then no electrical effect could occur +within it on account of any thunderstorm outside. There would be no need +of any earth connection. We might even place a layer of asphalte between +the copper floor and the ground, so as to insulate the building. If the +mill were then struck with lightning, it would remain charged for some +time, and a person standing on the ground outside and touching the wall +might receive a shock, but no electrical effect would be perceived +inside, even on the most delicate electrometer. + +This sheathing with sheet copper is not necessary. It is quite +sufficient to enclose the building with a network of a good conducting +substance. For instance, if a copper wire, say No. 4, B. W. G. (0.238 +inches diameter), were carried round the foundation of the house, up +each of the corners and gables, and along the ridges, this would +probably be a sufficient protection for an ordinary building against any +thunderstorm in this climate. The copper wire may be built into the wall +to prevent theft, but should be connected to any outside metal, such as +lead or zinc on the roof, and to metal rain-water pipes. In the case of +a powder-mill it might be advisable to make the network closer by +carrying one or two additional wires over the roof and down the walls to +the wires at the foundations. If there are water or gas pipes which +enter the building from without, these must be connected with the system +of conducting wires; but if there are no such metallic connections with +distant points, it is not necessary to take any pains to facilitate the +escape of the electricity into the earth. But it is not advisable to put +up a tail pointed conductor. + + +STEAM MACHINERY AND PRIVATEERING. + +Mr. Barnaby, a prominent English naval constructor, has written a +memorandum on the British mercantile marine as an adjunct to the navy in +time of war. He points out that privateering has been made obsolete, not +merely by popular feeling, but also by the progress of the arts. A +privateer, he thinks, must be prepared to meet regular ships of war of +about the same strength. This the introduction of steam machinery has +made impossible. War ships are built for security, merchant steamers for +economical work, and the different objects have necessitated different +arrangements. In a word, the machinery of war ships is carefully +disposed below the water line, that of marine vessels is usually above +the water line. The latter would therefore be much more subject to +injury from shot than the other. This state of things excludes from +service as privateers all but the swiftest vessels, and Mr. Barnaby +thinks that the use of the merchant marine "would be confined to ships +that could save themselves by their speed if they met a ship of war, +whether armored or not," and that only those which can steam eleven and +a half or twelve knots an hour can be considered serviceable for +privateering. This limits the number of vessels available for this +service to 400 or 500, and the common idea that England can, in case of +war, "cover the sea" with her ships is proved to be untrue. Even these +vessels could not be used as privateers except against certain nations. +The Government would be compelled to buy them, and this would cost, he +estimates, a hundred to a hundred and fifty million dollars. This +addition to the regular fleet he thinks would enable England to "close +up every hostile port, and the slow steamers and the helpless sailing +ships might cross the seas in such security (privateering not being +admissible) that merchandise would be as safe in the English ship as in +the neutral." The fault in all this reasoning is that a ship of inferior +speed is certain to meet with a swifter antagonist, and therefore become +a capture. Our experience with the Confederate cruisers was that the +efforts of a very large navy may be eluded and defied for years, without +regard to the sailing qualities on either side. + + +MAN AND ANIMALS. + +The influence upon animals of their association with man formed the +subject of an interesting discussion in the British Association meeting. +Mr. Shaw read a paper "On the Mental Progress of Animals During the +Human Period," and Dr. Grierson mentioned an instance of intelligence +which had come under his own notice. Five years ago a barrel was put up +in his garden at the top of a high pole. The barrel was perforated with +holes and divided in the centre. In the course of two days two starlings +visited the barrel, and returned on the following day, and in about a +week afterward two pairs of starlings came and occupied it, and brought +up their young. They were very wild starlings, and readily took flight +when any person went near the barrel. In the second year four pairs of +starlings occupied the barrel, and they were much tamer than the +previous ones, and this last year there were a number of pairs of +starlings so tame that they would almost allow him to take hold of them. +They had now changed their mode of speaking, for the starlings in his +garden frequently articulated words. + + +THE LIMBS OF WHALES. + +Whales have rudimentary limbs, and Prof. Struthers concludes that such +muscles existed in the whale-bone whales, but in ordinary teethed whales +they were merely represented by fibrous tissue. These muscles existing +in the true bottle-nosed whale had a special interest, as the teeth in +that whale were rudimentary and functionless. He had found these muscles +in the forearms of whales largely mixed with fibrous tissue, so the +transition was easy. Prof. MacAlister of Dublin thinks that whales were +not of very ancient origin, for the existence of the rudimentary limbs +tends to show that a sufficient length of time has not elapsed since the +use of the limb was essential to the earlier animal to produce its +complete obliteration. + + +OUR EDUCATIONAL STANDING. + +The advance which this country has made in educational facilities of all +grades within its hundred years of life was summarized as follows by +Prof. Phelps, President of the National Educational Association: + +"Prior to 1776 but nine colleges had been established, and not more than +five were really efficient. Now there are more than 400 colleges and +universities, with nearly 57,000 students, and 3,700 professors and +teachers. Then little was done for the higher education of women. Now +there are 209 female seminaries, 23,445 students, and 2,285 teachers. +There are also 322 professional schools of various classes, excluding +23,280 students and 2,490 instructors. Then normal schools had no +existence. Now there are 124, with 24,405 students and 966 instructors. +There were then no commercial colleges. Now 127 are in operation, with +25,892 students and 577 teachers. Then secondary and preparatory schools +had scarcely a name by which to live. Now 1,122 are said to exist, +affording instruction to 100,593 pupils, and giving employment to 6,163 +teachers. The kindergarten is a very recent importation. In 1874 we were +blessed with 55 of these human nurseries, with 1,636 pupils and 125 +teachers. Now 37 States and 11 Territories report an aggregate of more +than 13,000,000 school population, or more than four times the total +population of the country in 1776. Then the school enrollment was of +course unknown. Now it amounts to the respectable figure of about +8,500,000. Then the schools were scattered and their number +correspondingly restricted. Now they are estimated at 150,000, employing +250,000 teachers. The total income of the public schools is given at +$82,000,000, their expenditures at $75,000,000, and the value of their +property at $165,000,000. The number of illiterates by the census of +1870 above the age of ten years, in round numbers, was 5,500,000. Of +these more than 2,000,000 were adults, upward of 2,000,000 more were +from fifteen to twenty-one years of age, and 1,000,000 were between ten +and fifteen years. Of the number between fifteen and twenty-one years it +is estimated that about one-half have passed the opportunity for +education." + + +SURFACE MARKINGS. + +Mr. James Croll, in a letter to "Nature" (July 13, 1876), incidentally +mentions the lessons that may be derived from the configurations of the +earth's surface. + + "Given the hardly perceptible wearing of water and time, a + cañon a mile deep, and many hundreds of miles long, has + resulted from the flowing of a stream. Given glacial 'abrasion' + and time enough, then valleys of rounded section and firths and + lake-basins of a particular kind probably resulted from the + flowing of ice. + + "Where a stream flows from source to mouth on a gradual slope, + there has been no great disturbance of level since the stream + began to work. Where ice fills the dales there are no cañons. + Where ice has filled dales and has left fresh marks, cañons are + short and small. In mountain regions, where ice-marks are rare + or absent, cañons are of great depth and length, apparently + because their streams have flowed in the same channels ever + since the mountains were raised. But where cañons are marked + features, these lakes, firths, and dales of rounded section are + very rare, or do not exist. It seems therefore that hollows + which have, in fact, been carved out of the earth's surface may + be known for water-work or for ice-work by their shape, and + that firths, dales, and lakes may mark the sites of local + glacial periods; and cañons the sites of climates that have not + been glacial since the streams began to flow." + + +THE OLDEST STONE TOOLS. + +One of the problems which geologists now propose to themselves is to +ascertain definitely whether the existence of man before the close of +the glacial epoch can be certainly proved. The method of proof consists +in the examination of formations older than those of that epoch, in the +hope of finding in them bones or implements of human origin. Mr. S. B. +J. Skertchly thinks he has done this. In the valley sides around the +town of Brandon, in England, "are preserved patches of brick-earth, +which are valuable as affording the only workable clay in the district. +Whenever these beds are well exposed they are seen to underlie the +chalky boulder-clay of glacial age. Of this there cannot be the +slightest doubt, for the glacial bed is typically developed and not in +the slightest degree reconstructed. In these beds I have been so +fortunate as to find palæolithic implements in two places; and in one of +them quantities of broken bones and a few fresh-water shells. The +implements are of the oval type, boldly chipped, but without any of the +finer work which distinguishes the better made palæolithic implements. +Although it would be rash to lay too great a stress upon the characters +of these implements, it is nevertheless worthy of remark that they do +belong to the crudest type. Equally rough specimens are found in the +gravels above the boulder-clay, and even among neolithic finds. Still +these very antique implements certainly do seem to belong to an earlier +stage of civilization, if we regard them as examples of the best +workmanship of their makers." These, he thinks, are the oldest specimens +of man's handiwork known, and prove him to have lived before the +culmination of the glacial epoch. + + +ORIGIN OF THE SPANISH PEOPLE. + +An anthropologist, M. Turbino, has written a paper on the relations of +the people who inhabit Spain and Portugal, from which it appears that +those civilized races present a heterogeneity that reminds us forcibly +of the condition in which the savage tribes of America were at the time +of the discovery, and indeed are still. There is found in the Spanish +races no unity of origin or of physique. There is not only +dissimilarity, but also antithesis and opposition. M. Turbino endeavored +to show that the same diversity existed in the region of morals, in +language, in art, and in the ideas of right and law, and that thus there +is really no Spanish race and no means of establishing in the Iberian +Peninsula a centralized state. + +Broca, in discussing these facts, asserted that the same state of things +exists everywhere; that the idea of race as applied to the people of +the present political divisions is untrue. The only great barriers of +states are their geographical limits. + + +THE ENGLISH METEORITE. + +Prof. Maskelyne, of the British Museum, seems to be particularly +gratified by the fall of a metallic meteorite in England. He says: + + "It is, indeed, an iron meteorite, and the special interest of + this statement lies in the fact that, though our great + collection of 311 distinct meteorites at the Museum contains + 104 indubitable iron meteorites, the falls of only seven of the + latter were witnessed. The collection contains eight stony + meteorites that have fallen in the British Islands; but the + Rowton meteorite is only the second iron meteorite known as + having been found in Great Britain." + +It weighs seven and three-quarter pounds, is angular in shape, and he +supposes that it is but the fragment of a much larger aerolite, since +one loud explosion was heard and rumbling sounds, which may have denoted +others, were heard before it fell. + + +THE BOOMERANG. + +Mr. A. W. Howitt, after many years' observation in Australia, reports +that the boomerang, though a singular, is not the marvellous instrument +which we are told of in some books of travel; especially does he deny it +the power of continuing its flight after striking its object, and also +the power of returning with exact aim to the thrower's hand. That might +be in an instrument which was made with theoretical perfectness, but as +it is the return flight is very wild. He had a trial made by several +natives, one of them a boomerang thrower of great skill. The ground was +good, and the only drawback was a light sea breeze. He found that the +throws could be placed in two classes, one in which the boomerang was +held when thrown in a plane perpendicular to the horizon, the other in +which one plane of the boomerang was inclined to the left of the +thrower. + +In the first method of throwing the missile proceeded, revolving with +great velocity, in a perpendicular plane for say one hundred yards, when +it became inclined to the left, travelling from right to left. It then +circled upward, the plane in which it revolved indicating a cone, the +apex of which would lie some distance in front of the thrower. "When the +boomerang in travelling passed round to a point above and somewhat to +the right of the thrower, and perhaps one hundred feet above the ground, +it appeared to become stationary for a moment; I can only use the term +_hovering_ to describe it. It then commenced to descend, still revolving +in the same direction, but the curve followed was reversed, the +boomerang travelling from left to right, and, the speed rapidly +increasing, it flew far to the rear. At high speed a sharp whistling +noise could be heard. In the second method, which was shown by 'bungil +wunkun,' and elicited admiring ejaculations of 'ko-ki' from the black +fellows, the boomerang was thrown in a plane considerably inclined to +the left. It there flew forward for say the same distance as before, +gradually curving upward, when it seemed to 'soar' up--this is the best +term--just as a bird may be seen to circle upward with extended wings. +The boomerang of course was all this time revolving rapidly. It is +difficult to estimate the height to which it soared, making, I think, +two gyrations; but judging from the height of neighboring trees on the +river bank, which it surmounted, it may have reached one hundred and +fifty feet. It then soared round and round in a decreasing spiral, and +fell about one hundred yards in front of the thrower. This was performed +several times. The descending curve passed the thrower, I think, three +times. + + "Another method of throwing was mentioned; namely, to throw the + boomerang in such a manner that it would strike the ground with + its flat side some distance in front of the thrower. It would + then rise upward in a spiral, returning in the same. This was + not attempted, as it was decided the boomerang was not strong + enough. A final throw in a vertical plane, so that the missile + struck the ground violently fifty or sixty yards in advance, + terminated the display. It ricocheted three times with a + twanging noise and split along the centre. My black friends + said they should soon manufacture a number of the best + constructed 'wunken' to show me. I observed that the spectators + stood about a hundred yards on one side of the thrower, and + when the boomerang in its gyrations approached us, every black + fellow had his eyes sharply fixed on it. The fact stated by + them that it was dangerous was well shown in one instance, + where it suddenly wheeled and flew so close over us that I and + Toolabar fell over each other in dodging it." + + +A WESTERN LAVA FIELD. + +Lieutenant Ruffner describes one of the great lava outflows in the West +in a way that serves to set before the reader the magnitude of the +eruptions which have made America _par excellence_ the volcanic +continent. It is in New Mexico. + +From the Conejos river, in Colorado, one continuous sheet of lava covers +the face of the country to the south, for eighty miles unbroken; and +then for fifty miles further is now exhibited in outlying areas and +detached masses, separated from the main body by the exercise of the +power of erosion through prolonged ages. One hundred and thirty miles in +length, and perhaps thirty in breadth at its widest, the area of a +principality lies swallowed up for ever. From craters existing probably +in the San Antonio mountain and in the Ute Peak, near the boundary of +Colorado, and possibly from other centres, this flood poured over the +land. Reaching to the east, it was checked by the mountains of the +Sangre de Cristo range; flowing to the west, the mountains and hills of +the main divide, and the spur now between the Chama and the Rio Grande, +limited its extent. To the south it was deflected westwardly by the spur +of the mountains called the Picuris range, some fifteen miles south of +Taos. Protected by this spur, we find the east bank of the Rio Grande +for many miles free from the flux. Confined on the west by the slopes of +the Jemez mountains, the breadth of the field is narrowed. But from the +village of San Ildefonso to Pena Blanca, we find the lava on both sides +of the Rio Grande, spreading to the east as far as the Santa Fé creek. +Secondary centres in the Jemez mountains possibly contributed to this +extension, but the main force of the eruptions was probably felt further +to the north. However, in this vicinity the edges and extremity of the +field have been reached, and there has been so much erosion in places +since its deposition, that outlying masses, as in the bluffs to the west +of San Felipe, alone remain. Throughout the whole region thus depicted, +the lava field is the great and controlling element. The streams that +have eaten their way through it with untold difficulty are found in +narrow and deep cañons having no land for cultivation. A dangerous feat +for man to descend these precipices, the passage by an animal of burden +is almost impossible. The Rio Grande passes for eighty miles or more +through its black abyss, with walls of seven or eight hundred feet in +height, crowned with perpendicular cliffs of solid lava, two and three +hundred feet high. Throughout the whole region there is no agriculture. + + +THE PRINCIPLE OF CEPHALIZATION. + +In the last of a series of papers on cephalization (or brain +development) as a fundamental principle in the development of the system +of animal life, Prof. Dana says ("American Journal," October, 1876): "I +would refer to the case among mammals for an illustration of the +principle that the lowest forms are those having their locomotive +functions located in the posterior parts of the body; and that in the +higher the forces, or force organs, are more and more forward in the +structure. For example, in the whale the tail is the propelling organ, +and is of enormous power and magnitude, and the brain is very small, and +is situated far from the head extremity in a great mass of flesh and +bone furnished with poor organs of sense; a grade up, in the horse or +ox, the tail or posterior extremity is no longer an organ of locomotion, +and is little more than a caudal whip lash, and locomotion is performed +by organs situated more anteriorly, the legs, and a well-formed head +carries a brain which is a vastly higher organ of intelligence than that +of the whale, but the legs are simply organs of locomotion, and the +hinder are the more powerful; and higher up, in the tiger or cat, the +fore legs--not the hind legs--are the organs of chief muscular force, +and these have higher functions than that of simple locomotion, and +further, the body is proportionately shortened, and the head is +shortened anteriorly, or in the jaws, and approximates thus toward the +condition of man. The existence or not of a switch-like tail, as in +ordinary quadrupeds, has little bearing on the question of the degree of +cephalization, since the organ is not an organ of locomotion, or one +indicating a large posterior development of muscular bone. But, +approaching man in the system of life, even this seems to have +significance." + + +CURIOSITIES OF THE HERRING FISHERY. + +The hot weather last summer affected even the herring fishery. The +fishermen off the Scotch coast had been supplied with sea thermometers +by the Scottish Meteorological Society, and they found that during one +week, when the sea water showed a temperature of 58 deg. to 59 deg., no +fish were caught. But when the temperature fell to 55 deg. the herring +were caught in great abundance. Indeed, they flocked to the land in such +numbers that many nets were taken to the bottom with their weight, and +the fishermen lost considerable sums from this odd mishap. The action of +the Meteorological has produced important results. The entirely new +discovery has been made that the herring love cold water, and in seasons +when the temperature of the sea water rises, they keep away from the +land, in deeper water, between the fifteen to eighteen fathoms for which +the nets are calculated. The colder the weather the greater is the take +of fish; 1875, a year when the water was considerably and continuously +warmer than 1874, having been a poor year, while the latter was a better +one. This action of the fish makes it probable that it likes a given +range of temperature, neither too high nor too low. In cold water this +belt of agreeable temperature is found nearer the sun-warmed surface, +and the fish creep inshore. Many singular facts relating to this fishery +are known. If a thunderstorm occurs, the fishermen expect a good catch +on that day, but the next day they will get none except in deep water, +and the supposition is that the fish are leaving the land. The herring +has a strong sense of locality, always returning to the same ground. +Experienced dealers can tell by inspection in just what sea or loch a +given lot of fish were caught. + + +NATURAL GAS IN FURNACES. + +A paper describing the use of natural gas in the puddling furnaces at +Leechburg, Pa., was presented by Mr. A. L. Holley to the American +Institute of Mining Engineers. This well is about twenty miles northeast +of Pittsburg, on one of the side tributaries of the Alleghany river. It +had been drilled in search of oil to a depth of 1,250 feet in 1871, but +none was found. A great flow of gas was developed, however, accompanied +by a slight spray of salt water, and this has continued with little or +no diminution to the present time. The gas in its escape has been +discharged through a five-inch pipe, and at a pressure of from sixty to +eighty pounds per square inch. The rolling mill of Messrs. Roger & +Burchfield is on the opposite side of the river, and it has been for +some years devoted to the production of fine grades of sheet iron from +charcoal pig metal, by puddling and in knobbling fires. The usual weekly +product of the mill has been thirty tons of No. 3 tin plates and fifty +tons of No. 24 to twenty-eight sheets. + +The well was bought by this firm for $1,000, and the gas is led across +the river, a distance of 500 feet, through a three-inch pipe. It is +distributed through half-inch pipes, and at a pressure of about +forty-five pounds per square inch, to several of the furnaces. No +essential alteration in any of the furnaces has been found necessary in +the use of the gas fuel, except to brick up the fire bridge and to put +in the gas and air pipes. The old grate used for coal is loosely covered +with bricks and cinder, so that a slight percolation of air may take +place through them. The gas is admitted through a half-inch pipe, and +blows toward the fire-bridge through eighteen or twenty one-eighth inch +jets. The air is blown in, at about 2 lbs. pressure, through two one and +one-eighth-inch jets, obliquely down upon the centre of the hearth, and +a very perfect combustion is obtained. A great improvement is effected +in the quality of the product of the puddling furnaces by the combined +action of the gas and air blast. The air is blown in during the melting, +but it is then shut off until the boiling begins. It is then turned on +full, and a violent boiling action is maintained without any rabbling. +Many advantages result from the use of this fuel. The product of the +mill has increased about thirty per cent., from sixty to seventy tons of +coal are saved daily, besides the labor necessary to fire with it, and a +poorer quality of iron can be used in making the tin plate. Thus the +iron now used is credited to the furnace at $45 per ton, while charcoal +blooms have cost $80. These are certainly enormous advantages, and +though every mill cannot have a permanent gas well, it must be more +economical to produce such results by making coal into gas than to +continue using it in the solid form. The gas at Leechburg is used in +fourteen furnaces and under seven boilers. Its composition is carbonic +acid, 0.35; carbonic oxide, 0.26; illuminating hydrocarbons, 0.56; +hydrogen, 4.79; marsh gas, C H_{4}, 89.65; ethyl hydride, C_{2} H_{6}, +4.39; specific gravity, 0.558. This analysis shows about 57 per cent. of +carbon and 42 per cent. of hydrogen. If the well discharges one million +cubic feet of gas daily, it would weigh about sixty tons, yielding +thirty-nine tons of carbon. Mr. Holley calculates that it equals about +150 tons of bituminous coal, such as is found in the Pittsburg region. + + +SOUTH CAROLINA PHOSPHATES. + +In England the favorite source of phosphates of lime is the "Cambridge +coprolites." These are small, hard, gray nodules, obtained by washing a +stratum, of about one foot in thickness, lying in the upper greensand +formation in Cambridgeshire. Similar coprolites are found and mined in +other districts of England, but they are of inferior quality, containing +more oxide of iron and alumina. These give the tribasic phosphate of +lime, which results from the application of sulphuric acid to the +nodules, a tendency to "go back" to the insoluble condition. French +nodules are of inferior quality from another cause. They contain very +much silica, sometimes even forty per cent. The Cambridge coprolites are +so much esteemed that buyers of artificial manure often stipulate that +it shall be made from them. As a consequence the privilege of mining the +ground is costly, sometimes as much as $1,500 an acre being paid. The +yield is about three hundred tons to the acre. An English chemist +reports that the South Carolina phosphate, made in factories situated in +and near Charleston, ranks next in value to this Cambridge product. It +contains 54 per cent. of tribasic phosphate of lime, 14 per cent. of +carbonate of lime, 3-1/2 per cent. of iron oxide and alumina, 2-1/2 per +cent. of fluoride of calcium, and 15 per cent. of silica. It consists of +bone fragments derived from animal species which are now extinct. These +bones have accumulated in old river beds, and the mining operations are +compelled to follow the sinuosities of these streams. Though a supply +derived from such sources is necessarily limited, the quantity known to +be available is very great, and has been estimated to last a century +with a yearly extraction of 50,000 tons. In addition to the river +phosphate is a lighter deposit, occurring in a stratum of sand and clay +about two feet thick; but this is not so valuable, though it is softer +and easier ground. The river deposit is nearly black, and when ground +makes a very dark powder. It is a great favorite, and in some respects +the finest natural source of phosphatic manure in the world. + + +RARE METALS FROM OLD COINS. + +The operations of the Government assay office in Frankfort during the +last year have developed the fact that gold, platinum, palladium, and +selenium are found in old silver coins and also in ores which were +formerly supposed to be nearly pure sulphides and oxides of lead and +silver. From 400,000 pounds of silver and 5,000 pounds of gold were +obtained twelve pounds of platinum, two pounds of palladium, and several +pounds of selenium. To obtain these the gold is first precipitated from +the solution by ferrous chloride, all the other metals by iron turnings. +The precipitate is first submitted to the action of ferric chloride to +dissolve the copper, and the residue is fused with charcoal and soda to +separate the selenium. The regulus from this operation is dissolved, and +a compound of selenium and palladium, or of these with platinum, is +obtained. They are composed of equal atoms of the two metals and form +hard brilliant plates. The presence of these metals in coins is less +remarkable than in such ores as those of Commern and Mechernich on the +west bank of the Rhine. These ores occur as small granules of galena in +a soft sandstone, their origin being still a mooted point. The ore +yields a very soft and pure lead, though the presence of pyrite prevents +the manufacture of the virgin lead used in making the best brands of +white paint. + + +A FRENCH MOUNTAIN WEATHER STATION. + +The French government has placed on the top of the Puy de Dome a +meteorological observatory, which, as that is the highest land in +France, answers to our stations on Mt. Washington and Pike's Peak. It +is, however, constructed in a style very different from those somewhat +forbidding abodes. At the top is an observatory tower, placed on a +platform, and upon this is placed the anemometer, especially constructed +to withstand the force of the storms. Within the tower is a well hole +fifty feet deep, which leads to a tunnel more than a hundred feet long, +at the end of which is placed the keeper's house. This is a massive +building, situated a short distance from the top, where it is partly +protected by rocks. The whole work cost $45,000, and $20,000 more will +be spent in supplying it with apparatus. + + +MIGRATION OF THE LEMMING. + +A new theory has been broached to explain the migrations of the Norway +lemming, a variety of field mouse. Every few years an immense body of +these animals leaves their habitat and proceed westward, attacking every +obstacle in front in preference to flanking it, until it reaches the +sea, which the little animals boldly enter, only to perish there. No +conceivable advantage to the lemming is known to have ever resulted from +these long and arduous marches. The losses in swimming large rivers, +from fire, the attacks of predatory animals, hunger, and fatigue, are so +great that but few reach the sea, and the remnant always perish there. +Mr. W. Duppa Crotch, who has studied the habits of these animals for ten +years, now suggests that they are moved by an hereditary instinct, and +that their prehistoric home was some country west of Sweden, and now +covered by the Atlantic. The same kind of reasoning would allot an +Atlantic origin to the progenitors of the grasshoppers, which have been +such plagues in this country for a few years, for, as stated in the +August "Galaxy," those which moved eastward in 1875 did not halt until +they perished on the ocean beach or in its waves. Mr. Crotch has thrown +new light on some of the habits of the lemming. According to him, says +"Nature," the migration is not all completed in one year, as formerly +supposed, nor do they, as stated, form processions and cut their way +through obstacles; but, breeding several times in the season, they +gather in batches, and at intervals make a move westward. Their +pugnacity, he states, is astonishing, and the approach of any animal, or +even the shadow of a cloud, arouses the anger of this small creature +like a guinea pig, and they back against a stone or rock uttering shrill +defiance. Our author found, in most examples, a bare patch on the rump, +due to their rubbing against the said buttress of support when at bay. +He wonders why a bare patch, and not a callosity, should not result from +this innate, apparently hereditary habit. + + +NEW DISCOVERY OF NEOLITHIC REMAINS. + +A very interesting discovery of human remains has been made in a cave in +Cravanch, about two miles northwest of Belfort, France. Some workmen, +excavating in a quarry of Jurassic limestone, found the opening to the +cave, the bottom of which was covered with stalagmites, while there were +no corresponding stalactites hanging from the roof. Some of these +calcareous columns appear to be artificial piles covered with the +limestone sheeting. Between them, and also covered with stalagmite, were +a quantity of human skeletons, with the skulls raised above the rest of +the bodies. A number of weapons and implements, together with a mat of +plaited meshes, have been found, all belonging to the polished stone +period. It is thought that careful search may uncover remains of an +earlier date. The cave is quite large, a hundred feet long and forty +wide and high. It was at once taken possession of by the authorities and +placed under the charge of Mr. Felix Voulot, who hopes to extract at +least one skeleton entire. + + +OCTOBER WEATHER. + +The most noticeable features of the month are: the hurricane of the 17th +to 23d; lower temperatures in the districts east of the Rocky mountains; +large excess of rainfall in some districts and large deficiencies in +others; low water in the rivers. + +_Areas of High Pressure._--These have generally appeared in the Upper +Missouri valley, from whence their movements have been south and +eastward across the country. Their advance has been frequently marked by +high northerly winds and gales, especially when preceded by decidedly +low-pressure areas, in the more northern districts and on the Texas +coast. When rainy weather has preceded them, the fall in the temperature +has been sufficient to turn the rain into sleet and snow, while frequent +and heavy frosts have been produced. + +_Areas of Low Pressure._--Nine have been traced. Excepting the hurricane +of the 17th to 23d, the centres of all have moved over the northern +sections, and further northward than during previous Octobers. They have +been frequently accompanied by barometric troughs, extending south or +southwestward toward the Gulf, in which rainy weather and high winds or +gales have prevailed. + +_Temperatures._-- + + _Maximum._ _Minimum._ + +Albany 70 deg. 23 deg. +Boston 70 " 26 " +Buffalo 73 " 24 " +Cape May 73 " 34 " +Chicago 73 " 28 " +Cincinnati 74 " 29 " +Cleveland 75 " 26 " +Detroit 72 " 24 " +Duluth 67 " 23 " +Jacksonville 85 " 43 " +Marquette 73 " 28 " +Mt. Washington 48 " 5 " +New Orleans 84 " 50 " +New York 73 " 31 " +Pike's Peak 41 " -2 " +Philadelphia 75 " 31 " +San Diego 80 " 48 " +San Francisco 72 " 52 " +Washington 78 " 30 " + +The first frost of the season is reported from a large number of +stations, and first snow from about twenty. + +_Verifications._--The average is 92.8 per cent. for the weather; 90.1, +wind direction; 91.1, temperature; 87.7, barometric changes. For the +whole country the average verified is 90.4 per cent. There were four +omissions to predict out of 3,720, or 0.1 percent. + +A severe earthquake shock was felt at San Francisco at 9:20 p.m., on the +6th, lasting ten seconds; motion from northwest to southeast. A second +and lighter shock was felt the same day. + + +FRENCH NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES. + +Probably few American travellers visit a collection of antiquities, +infinitely older than the paintings, statues, and relics of mediæval +life, or even than those of Roman and Grecian age, but which is as +freely open to them, near Paris. This is the museum which has been +established in the château of Saint Germain. France has been +particularly fortunate in rescuing fragments of the life which existed +within her borders long before the day of the very earliest races to +which history points us. These fragments have sometimes been preserved +in the most fortuitous manner, and afford unique illustrations of the +remarkable accidents to which man is occasionally indebted for his +knowledge. The fossil man of Denyse, whatever his age may have been, has +been preserved for our inspection by becoming overwhelmed in a volcanic +eruption. The skeleton of Mentone was found by Rivière while engaged in +a systematic search among French caves. Other caves in France have +preserved evidences sufficiently distinct for us to gain valuable hints +of ancient life. In fact all the ages of man, so far as they are +recognized, and all the kinds of proof concerning them, are well +represented in French collections. During the reign of the late Emperor +this museum was founded, and has received the case of many noted French +_savants_ who have won distinction in this field of research. The walls +are covered by finely painted maps illustrating the distribution of +caves, and rock shelters, and places where instruments of stone, bone, +and bronze have been found. Pictures are also exhibited which illustrate +the views of former social customs which are thought to be supported by +the material evidences assembled in the château. In the cases are not +only large collections of celts, but also the carved bones, horn, and +stones which, by their distribution through the stalagmite of caves, or +through the gravel of ancient river beds, give infallible proof of the +presence of man. One floor contains a collection not less interesting, +though illustrating the manners of a much later age. It is formed of the +military weapons, bridges, fortifications, camps, etc., which were +constructed to illustrate the "life of Cæsar," by Napoleon. This +collection is, and will probably remain, unique. At the meeting of the +Geographical Congress last year, these great engines of war were taken +to the park and exhibited in action. The museum is now placed under the +control of the historical commission for constructing the map of Gaul. +This body is publishing a series of maps and engravings to illustrate +the progress of the science of the prehistoric and subsequent periods. A +catalogue of the collections has been made and is sold to visitors. +There is also in the establishment a special library in which has been +collected by M. Gabriel de Mortillet all the books relating to +prehistoric antiquities, and which is open free on certain days to the +public. + + * * * * * + +It is found that insects preserve their colors better under yellow glass +than in any other color. The curtains of entomological show-cases and +the blinds of the room should be yellow. Only in this way can the +delicate carmine tints of some insect wings be preserved. + + +A student of animal nature announces a case of two hens, who by joint +efforts hatched one chick. They have since, for some weeks, been +parading the yard, each clucking and manifesting all the anxiety and +care of a true mother over this one. The hens never quarrel, or show the +least appearance of jealousy or rivalry. + + +M. Tresca, who has charge of the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers, the +institution which in Paris answers to our Patent Office, says that +drawings of new inventions are more useful than models, are cheaper, and +are very much oftener consulted. In Paris the model room is covered with +dust and rarely entered. + + +The French weather bureau intends not only to study the thunderstorm, +hailstorm, rainfall, inundations, and frosts, with especial reference to +their effects upon agriculture, but also to experiment upon the +asserted effect of smoke as a preventive to frost. The experiments will +be extensive and may cover a large valley. + + +To discover by the spectroscope the smallest quantity of a gaseous or +very volatile hydrocarbon, the Messrs. Negri introduce a small quantity +of the gaseous mixture into a tube. This mixture should not contain +oxygen, carbonic oxide, or carbonic acid; and the pressure is to be +reduced to not more than twenty millimetres. Then if a hydrocarbon is +present, the passage of a spark from a Ruhmkorff's coil will cause the +appearance of a sky-blue light. Viewed with the spectroscope, this +presents the spectrum of carbon, and generally so brilliant as to mask +totally the spectra of other gases present. + + +The rare metals cerium, lauthanum, and didymium have been lately +investigated by Drs. Hillebrand and Norton, in Bunsen's laboratory. +Cerium looks like iron, having both its color and lustre, but is +heavier, and has the hardness of calcite. It tarnishes slowly in dry air +and rapidly in moist air. It ignites so readily that pieces scratched +off inflame, and its wire burns more brilliantly than magnesium wire. +Lauthanum is a little harder, but also a little lighter. It tarnishes +more easily and inflames less easily than cerium. Didymium resembles +lauthanum. The metals were all obtained by electrolysis of the +chlorides. + + +It is stated that a week's work in Birmingham comprises, among its +various results, the fabrication of 14,000,000 pens, 6,000 bedsteads, +7,000 guns, 300,000,000 cut nails, 100,000,000 buttons, 1,000 saddles, +5,000,000 copper or bronze coins, 20,000 pairs of spectacles, six tons +of papier maché wares, over £30,000 worth of jewelry, 4,000 miles of +iron and steel wire, ten tons of pins, five tons of hairpins and hooks +and eyes, 130,000 gross of wood screws, 500 tons of nuts and screw bolts +and spikes, fifty tons of wrought iron hinges, 350 miles' length of wax +for vestas, forty tons of refined metal, forty tons of German silver, +1,000 dozens of fenders, 3,500 bellows, 800 tons of brass and copper +wares--these, with a multitude of other articles, being exported to +almost all parts of the civilized world. + + +The aërated beverages of which Americans are so fond should not be kept +in copper vessels, for carbonic acid (which is the gas present) +dissolves this metal with great avidity. From three-hundredths to +one-tenth of a grain of copper per gallon has been found in aërated +lemonade, ginger ale, soda water, etc. + + +In making the ultimate analysis of organic compounds by combustion, with +lead chromate and metallic copper reduced by hydrogen, the results +obtained are too high, on account of the expulsion of hydrogen, which +had been occluded by the copper. Heating the copper to 150 deg. C. does +not prevent the error, which may be .05 per cent. + + +Mayer & Walkoff, who have been experimenting on the respiration of +plants, find that the action goes on both in light and darkness, and +that changes of temperature within normal limits have little effect. +There is no direct relation between growth in length and respiration, a +conclusion that is in conflict with that of previous experiments. + + +The famous "Blue Grotto" in the island of Capri, Italy, has been +investigated spectroscopically. Most of the light enters through the +water, which absorbs the red rays entirely and so much of the yellow as +to make the D line scarcely visible. The green, blue, and indigo rays +are very bright, and the F and _b_ lines unite in a well marked +absorption line. + + +The springs of Weissenburg in the Bernese Oberland yield a water which +is popularly supposed to have the power of cicatrizing cavities in the +lungs, but its analysis shows no reason for such a power. Sulphates of +lime and magnesia are its principal solid ingredients, with chloride and +a little iodide of lithium and an organic compound having the odor of +blackberries. + + +The mountains about Innsbruck in the Tyrol, as well as other parts of +the Alps, present the singular phenomenon of a climate more moderate at +a considerable elevation than in the valleys. Prof. Kerner finds that +there is a warm region midway up the mountain, lying between two colder +zones above and below it. We have heretofore referred to a similar +phenomenon in Indiana. + + +It is remarked by anthropologists that differences of color are one of +the most marked signs of race. The Aryan word for caste is _Varanum_, +meaning color, and the Aryans are supposed to have used it to +distinguish themselves from the Dasyuf, with whom they came in contact +on crossing the Indus, when migrating from Central Asia. The first +migrating wave from that centre of human creation can no longer be +traced, and only its remnants are found among the most degraded of the +hill tribe and slave population in India. Prof. Rollesten thinks that +the earliest races of man were preëminently of the Australioid type, +which is now brown-skinned and wavy haired, with long narrow heads. + + +Messrs. Gladstone & Tribe have been investigating the results of the +decomposition of alcohol by aluminium. When absolute alcohol, in which +iodine has been dissolved, is poured upon finely divided aluminium in a +flask, energetic action takes place and large quantities of hydrogen are +evolved. A pasty mass remains, and this heated to 100 deg. C., gives off +alcohol, and leaves a solid residue, which liquefies at 275 deg. C., +alcohol and an oily body containing iodine passing over. At a higher +temperature, this product was again decomposed, with formation of +alcohol, ethylene, and alumina. But the most interesting results were +obtained under diminished pressure. Then a greenish white solid +sublimed, and this was found to be aluminic ethylate. This is therefore +the second known organometallic body, containing oxygen, which is +capable of distillation, cacodylic oxide being the other. + + + + +CURRENT LITERATURE. + + +Prof. Huxley's ingenious if somewhat shallow evasion of the Biblical +account of creation, by crediting it to Milton rather than to Moses, has +perhaps aroused many minds to inquire what modern theologians really do +think of the first chapters of Genesis. This question is answered by a +recent publication[12] by Dr. Cocker of the Michigan State University. +In the "Theistic Conception of the World" he treats the first two +chapters of the Bible as a poem, which he calls the "symbolical hymn of +creation." It has an exordium, six strophes, each with its refrain, and +an episode. He does not believe the sacred narrative intends to describe +the exact mode of forming the world, nor even to set the successive +events in order. It is an ascription, designed to embody in symbolical +language the fact that all existence is derived from God. One paragraph +will show the broad ground on which this conclusion is based: + + A cursory reading of the narrative will convince any one that + its purpose is not to enlarge men's views of nature, but to + teach them something concerning nature's God. It says nothing + about the forces of nature, the laws of nature, the + classifications of natural history, or the size, positions, + distances, and motions of the heavenly bodies. From first to + last, every phenomenon and every law is linked immediately to + some act or some command of God. It is God who creates, God who + commands, God who names, God who approves, and God who blesses. + Strike out the allusions to God, and the narrative is + meaningless. Clearly it was never intended to teach science. It + has obviously one purpose, to reveal and keep before the minds + of men the grand truth _that Jehovah is the sole Creator and + Lord of the heavens and the earth_; and it leaves the + scientific comprehension of nature to the natural powers with + which God has endowed man for that end. + +But the author believes that the Mosaic account is practically correct, +or perhaps we should say harmonious with the truth. It may be truthful +without being all the truth, or truthful and still be very defective. He +considers that when scientific knowledge is complete, the Scripture, +rightly interpreted, will be found in harmony with its final +conclusions. How Moses was made acquainted with the events of creation +is a matter upon which it is impossible to be positive. The author sees +no objection to the suggestion that he may have witnessed a series of +pictures or visions, the result of which upon his mind is given in the +hymn of creation. This explanation of the Biblical narrative forms but a +small part of the work, which is chiefly given to a discussion of the +views and positive discoveries of scientific men which relate to the +production of the world. It is a remarkable tribute to the overmastering +power of positive knowledge. Science and theology are mingled in an +extraordinary way, but a way that is now necessary, for there is not one +province of human thought that has not been compelled to acknowledge the +great possibilities of inductive reasoning. Dr. Cocker labors to +establish the old faith on the new ground. He is a man of great reading +and has a strong belief in the religion to which he has given his heart. +Every question is approached in the firm faith that when rightly +interpreted it will be found to sustain the Christian religion. This is +the fundamental fault of the work. It is a plea for a cause that does +not need it, for a cause that is quite as apt to lose as to gain by the +defence. The difficulty with this method of meeting the hypothesis of +science is that the scientific views are themselves in a state of +unstable equilibrium. They may topple at any moment, and then the +correspondence that eager devotees have found between them and the Bible +is a slur that falls altogether on the religion and not on the science. +This is a great error, and those who are drawn into it belittle the +cause that is dear to them. While our author is catholic in his reading, +he does not seem to assign to all writers in his field their just value. +His quotations, the fresh, the obsolete, the trustworthy, and the +doubtful, are mingled in a confusion that only the experienced can +penetrate. His book is creditable to his unshaken faith, and it +presents the religious aspect of modern knowledge in a thorough manner. + + * * * * * + +It is not strange that under the present condition of the general mind +the question as to the right of the State to teach religion at the +public expense should be regarded with unusual interest. This question +has been very ably discussed by the Rev. Dr. Spear, whose book upon the +subject,[13] originally published as a series of essays in "The +Independent," is notably thorough and notably calm and judicial in tone. +Dr. Spear considers the subject in both its constitutional and its +equitable aspect, and the conclusion to which he is led is that "the +public school, like the State, under whose authority it exists, by whose +taxing power it is supported, should be simply a civil institution, +absolutely secular and not at all religious in its purposes, and all +practical questions involving this principle should be settled in +accordance therewith." He admits that this logical result of his +argument excludes the Bible from the public school, just as it excludes +the Westminster Catechism, the Koran, or any of the sacred books of +heathenism. But, as he justly says, this conclusion pronounces no +judgment against the Bible and none for it; it simply omits to use it +and declines to inculcate the religion which it teaches. It is difficult +to see how any other view of the case can be taken consistently with the +spirit of our institutions, from the Constitution of the United States +downward; and it is a cheering promise of the disappearance of bigotry, +even in its milder forms, when we see this view set forth by a +distinguished orthodox minister of the Gospel. There still, however, +remains this question in connection with religious toleration and +religious qualifications--Does a religion one element of which is +absolute subservience to the will of a foreign potentate or prelate, the +Roman or the Greek, for example, and which undertakes to deal with a +civil relation, marriage for example, come properly within the provision +for universal religious toleration, or does it not, for the reasons +assigned, assume a relation to the State more or less political? + + * * * * * + +Captain Whittaker's "Life of General Custer"[14] can no more be +estimated by fixed biographical rules than the meteoric career of his +hero can be compared to the regular and peaceful lives of other men. Not +often, perhaps, does the biographer devote himself with such +enthusiastic _abandon_ to his task, and seldom is there to be found +within the covers of a single volume such an infinite variety of +incident and personal reminiscence. The chapters which deal with the +early youth of General Custer are exceedingly interesting photographs, +as it were, of a certain phase of American domestic and academic life. +The characteristics of the child, the sorrows of the "plebe," and the +aspirations and experiences of the cadet, are faithfully narrated. The +first service of the subaltern, and his initiation into the perils and +responsibilities of an officer in time of war, are interwoven with +Custer's own recollections of his generals and their campaigns. We are +irresistibly reminded of Lever in the style of the narration, and of +that dashing creature "O'Malley" in the adventures of our own dragoon. +The story of General Custer's wooing is quaintly told, and shines like a +bow of promise through all the clouds of his stormy career; it is a +romance by itself. _Apropos_ of the charge which we are told won the boy +general his star, we clip a bit of word painting which could only have +been written by "one who has been there": + + Were you ever in a charge--you who read this now by the winter + fireside, long after the bones of the slain have turned to + dust, when peace covers the land? If not, you have never known + the fiercest pleasure of life. The chase is nothing to it; the + most headlong hunt is tame in comparison. In the chase the game + flees, and you shoot; here the game shoots back, and every leap + of the charging steed is a peril escaped or dashed aside. The + sense of power and audacity that possesses the cavalier, the + unity with his steed, both are perfect. The horse is as wild as + the man: with glowing eyeballs and red nostrils, he rushes + frantically forward at the very top of his speed, with huge + bounds as different from the rhythmic precision of the gallop + as the sweep of the hurricane is from the rustle of the breeze. + Horse and rider are drunk with excitement; feeling and seeing + nothing but the cloud of dust, the scattered flying figures; + conscious of only one mad desire, to reach them, to smite, + smite, smite! + +The author of this book is too much of an artist, too much of a poet, +perhaps, to divest his battle descriptions of anything that is doubtful +in fact, if only it is eulogistic of his hero or picturesque in its +nature. He has an eye for color, and prefers to have his picture a showy +and effective one even if some of the accessories are purely of the +imagination. We cannot consider the letters of the "Times" special +correspondent as a reliable history of the events immediately following +the battle of Gettysburg, although they are undoubtedly glowing +bulletins of the exploits of General Kilpatrick and his temporary +subordinate, General Custer. Nor can we accept the statement of the +Detroit "Evening News" for an entirely correct report of the grand +review at Washington, in 1865, when he hands down to posterity that +sober-sided old warrior, Provost Marshal General Patrick, as one who +"had ridden down the broad avenue bearing his reins in his teeth, and +his sabre in his only hand"; although the Mazeppa act in which Custer +immediately followed is not overdrawn by the "News," because that would +be "painting the lily." There are several other extracts from newspapers +of a similar nature, but we have not space to refer to them. Captain +Whittaker's book offers material for that "coming historian," but cannot +be looked upon as an entirely safe historical authority. Colonel Chesney +says, "Accept no one-sided statement from any national historian who +rejects what is distasteful in his authorities, and uses only what suits +his own theory.... Gather carefully from actual witnesses, high and low, +such original material as they offer for the construction of the +narrative. This once being safely proved, judge critically and calmly +what was the conduct of the chief actor; how far his insight, calmness, +personal control over others, and right use of his means were concerned +in the result." The great fault of this otherwise attractive biography +is the unwise partisanship which, as Captain Whittaker shows, was so +injurious to his hero in life and which even in death does not forsake +him. At page 282 Captain Whittaker says of alleged envy and jealousy of +Custer in certain quarters: + + A great deal of this was due to the boasting and sarcastic + remarks of his injudicious friends, who could not be satisfied + with praising their own chief without depreciating others. + +Thus the author, after warning his readers of the pit into which so many +others have fallen, proceeds in the most inconsistent manner to fall +into it himself. + +Had we space, we could here make many extracts entirely free from the +foregoing objections. Many new descriptions of Indian life, never before +in print, are here given; some excellent essays on the prominent phases +of American military life; and many anecdotes and biographical sketches +of the officers who fell with Custer on the "Little Big-horn," with +portraits, are also given. The volume is a very large, handsome octavo, +illustrated by two portraits of General Custer (one an excellent +likeness on steel), and many full-page woodcuts, and seems especially +seasonable as a holiday present. No biographical collection can be +considered complete without it, and we should think it would have an +especial charm to military readers. That Mrs. Custer is to receive a +share of the receipts from its sale will not lessen its circulation. + + * * * * * + +Palestine is certainly an inexhaustible source of books, and Dr. +Ridgaway[15] tells us the reason why. Travellers' descriptions of the +grand mountain scenery, its strange deserts, its ancient customs, +transmitted from the dawn of history, its trees a thousand years of age, +and its mighty ruins, contribute to and intensify the interest which the +Christian feels in that region alone of all the earth. Of late years +this country has been the scene of systematic explorations and the theme +of an important series of critical works. Dr. Ridgaway's volume deserves +a place in this series, though he has little of novelty to present. But +the author has produced just the book that was needed, the one which it +might be supposed the first traveller there would have written. Leaving +out nearly all the every-day incidents of travel, he aims to extract +from each place he saw just what is of interest to the Bible student. He +is to be congratulated on a rare ability to discriminate between the +important and entertaining and what is matter-of-course. The plan of his +journey, which was made in company with eleven others, mostly clergymen, +was to follow the route of the Israelites from Egypt to Palestine, and +then to visit every place made memorable by the life of Christ, besides +many others of Biblical interest. He tried to be critical, and +constantly discusses the pros and cons for admitting the received +location of prominent points; but in this he is not very successful, and +seems to decline at length into helpless acquiescence. He rejects the +innovations and doubts of such men as Robinson and Baker, and +acknowledges that the sacred sites have for the most part been +identified. But there is a limit to even his credulity. He swallowed +easily the "exact spot" where the cradle lay, but strained at the +fragment of a column on which Mohammed is to sit when he judges the +world, and says, "I was unable to resist the temptation to straddle it!" +Perhaps the secret of Dr. Ridgaway's success is that he has omitted +those rhapsodies which are natural enough amid such scenes, but which we +get our fill of without going to Palestine. He is too full of the real +situation to turn to fanciful imaginations, and as a consequence he +gives us the best companion to the Bible which we know of. The critical +results of his journey are small, but as a careful summary of what +others have finally settled upon his work is authentic. A large number +of engravings, of the best execution, bring the landscape and buildings +vividly before us. Many of them are from Dr. Ridgaway's sketches, others +from photographs, and the only fault we have to find is the omission of +titles to them, an omission which is artistic, but inconvenient. + +--Lieutenant Ruffner[16] does not give a very assuring picture of New +Mexico, considered as a possible State in our Union. It has never +prospered; its population and area of cultivated land being smaller now +than three hundred years ago. As these changes are no doubt due to the +operation of natural causes, about which scientific men do not agree, +the immediate future of the country does not appear very flattering. +Wide as the spread of westward migration has been, it has hardly +affected New Mexico. Lieutenant Ruffner says: "The line once crossed, a +foreign country is entered. Foreign faces and a foreign tongue are +encountered." For twenty-six years the Territory has formed a part of +our country, but in that time our civilization has hardly made an +impression upon it. The author, without directly saying so, seems to +regard the scheme for making it a State with disfavor, and his readers +will agree with him. He has done his country a service by this +painstaking and impartial description of a region which few but army +officers know anything about. + +--It is a very difficult thing nowadays to write a book of travels that +can interest the general public. A hundred years ago a man who had +circumnavigated the world was a remarkable object, and people would +crowd to see him, and read his works with avidity. But what a change the +last century has produced. Compare the difference of tone between 1776 +and 1876, and then go back and compare 1676 with the former year. There +is not anything like a parity of advance between the two centuries. The +traveller and sailor was as much of a hero in 1776 as was the captain of +the Vittoria, the last ship of Magellan's fleet when he sailed into +Cadiz in 1522, having been round the earth and lost a day in the +operation; just as Mr. Phileas Fogg, of later fame, gained one by going +in the opposite direction. Men who have been to China and India, +Australia and New Zealand, are too plentiful to-day to excite notice; +and when it comes to writing books about their adventures, it is +necessary to be cautious to avoid treading in old tracks and wearying +the reader. The man who describes a voyage round the world to-day must +be a character of interest in himself, or he will not interest his +audience. The writer of the book now before us[17] possesses the +qualifications for the task seldom possessed by the professional +traveller, who is apt to bore one with long stories. He has the eye of a +newspaper correspondent, the quick intuition as to what is or is not +interesting _per se_, and has actually succeeded in making an +interesting and readable book of three hundred pages out of a subject +nearly worn out. Mr. Vincent started from New York in a clipper ship, +went round the Horn to San Francisco, thence to Hawaii, where he +remained some weeks, thence to New Zealand and Australia, finally to +Calcutta, and thence home to New York, after a prolonged tour through +India, Siam, and China. The incidents of the latter tour formed the +basis of his first book, the "Land of the White Elephant," the success +of which encouraged him to this, his second venture. The chief +characteristic of Mr. Vincent's second work is its freshness and +interest. He seems to be profoundly impressed with the truth of the +saying of Thales of Miletus, that "the half is sometimes more than the +whole." The taste and judgment of the author are shown by what he leaves +out as much as by what he leaves in. There is hardly a dull page in the +book, and in each place he only notes what is curious, leaving out of +the question all that is commonplace. More could not be asked of him. + + * * * * * + +We have received the first number of the "Archives of the National +Museum at Rio de Janeiro."[18] This is a scientific institution, and +from the number of officers named it appears to be prepared for +inaugurating thorough work in archæology, geology, botany, zoölogy, etc. +Its aim, however, is not merely the study of pure science, but its +application to the immediate welfare of man through agriculture and the +industries. The director general is Dr. Netto, and the secretary Dr. +Joao Joaquin Pizarro. Most of the officers are Brazilians, but our +countryman, Prof. Hartt, is director of the "sciencias physicas," +including geology, mineralogy, and palæontology. This first number of +the "Archivos" contains papers in the Portuguese language on aboriginal +remains, one by Prof. Wiener and Prof. Hartt, and one by Dr. Netto on a +botanical subject. + + * * * * * + +Prof. Walker's work in both the Census Bureau and the Indian Department +shows how original and critical his mind is. The first fruit of his +activity as a professional teacher of political economy is an extended +treatise on the question of wages.[19] He seems to have found himself +unable to make the views of the systematic writers always harmonize with +his own conceptions, and his work is to a considerable extent +controversial. One of his prominent objects of attack is the wage-fund +theory, which is that wages are paid out of capital, that a certain +portion of the capital in every country is charged with this duty, and +that the rate of wages could be accurately determined if the amount of +this fund and the total number of laborers could be ascertained. This +theory makes the savings of past labor to be the source from which wages +are paid. Prof. Walker argues that "wages are, in a philosophical view +of the subject, paid out of the product of present industry, and hence +that production furnishes the true measure of wages." Labor is an +article which the employer buys because it forms a necessary part of a +certain product which he intends to sell. The price which he expects to +obtain for the product controls the amount he can afford to pay for the +labor. It is true that the money paid must necessarily come from past +savings unless the laborers wait for their pay, as they formerly did in +this country. But in making this payment capital merely _advances_ the +money, and its possessor receives interest for its use; the amount of +this interest being another element that is controlled by the price +which the manufacturer expects to obtain for the product. Prof. Walker +thinks it not surprising that the erroneous wage-fund theory found +acceptance in England, where the facts on which it is based were first +observed. But he marvels that American thinkers can accept it, for the +condition of some classes of laborers here was, so late as half a +century ago, a decided disproof of it. Farm hands, for instance, were +formerly often paid at the end of the year, for the reason that there +was not capital enough in farmers' hands to make the advances necessary +for weekly or monthly payments. Here was a case in which the employer +clearly had to wait for the product before he could pay the wages. No +past savings were available for the purpose. The author's arguments are +always clearly put and forcible, but his position loses strength by the +very character of his task. He has so completely separated the wages +question from all others, that we miss the natural collocation of wages +with the other items which make up the cost of a product. The capitalist +has one and the same purpose in buying raw material and labor, and no +discussion of the subject can seem complete that does not proceed from +the likeness or unlikeness of these two components of value. Another +theory which our author combats strongly is that the interest of the +employer is sufficient to keep wages up to the highest profitable point. +He holds that the laborer must be active in his own interests, or he +will never obtain that rate of payment which is necessary to his proper +maintenance. Bad food reduces the quantity and quality of the laborer's +work, so that more men have to be hired for a given task, and the +employer pays more in the end for his product, than when wages are good; +but even this prospective loss is not sufficient to keep employers from +experimenting to find just that point to which wages may be lowered +without affecting food disastrously. This disposition of the employer +can be combatted only by the resistance of the laborer. Prof. Walker +thinks there is a "constantly imminent danger that bodies of laborers +will not soon enough or amply enough resent industrial injuries which +may be wrought by the concerted action of employers or by slow and +gradual changes in production, or by catastrophes in business, such as +commercial panics." Of course he does not advocate strikes, which "are +the insurrections of labor," but even these are to be judged by their +results. The results may or may not justify them. He considers that +coöperation is a real panacea that can successfully take the place of +violent measures. He denies the assertion that coöperation gets rid of +the capitalist. It merely avoids the business man, who in the present +order of things borrows the capital, hires the laborers, and directs the +business. Practically he is a salaried man. Prof. Walker finds +difficulty in giving this man a title suitable for use in treatises on +political economy. He objects to "undertaker" and "adventurer," because +they have other meanings, and suggests the French _entrepreneur_. The +objections are well taken, but the middleman is not only a reality; he +also has a name by which he is known in business. If Prof. Walker wants +to have a cellar dug or rock blasted, he can go to Pennsylvania and find +a "venturer" to undertake the work; and there seems to be no good reason +why a term that is already in common use and well understood should be +rejected by the schoolmen. This is a valuable contribution to political +economy, so valuable, in fact, that we can only _say_ that it should be +read, not demonstrate the fact in a short notice. + + * * * * * + +"Elsie's Motherhood"[20] is a story in which piety of the Sunday-school +kind is curiously contrasted with villany in the shape of Ku Klux +outrages. Elsie's children are all sweetness, obedience, and kisses, and +live in an atmosphere of goodness that is revolting because it is +monstrous. There is a suspicion of political purpose associated with the +appearance of the book just at this time which does not improve it. + +--The author of "Near to Nature's Heart"[21] shows abundant powers of +invention, but his imagination is not sufficiently well regulated for +the production of a natural or even plausible story. The individual who +is so intimate with nature is a young girl whose father has fled from +England and hidden himself in the forests of the Hudson river on account +of a quarrel with his brother, which he (erroneously) supposes to have +been a fatal one. His seclusion is so complete that his daughter grows +up almost without the sight of man or womankind except the three who are +in her father's hut, and the consequence is a partial reversion to the +wild state from which we are nowadays supposed to have been somewhat +removed by the process of evolution. The author dresses the nymph in a +style that ingeniously indicates the character he desires to paint. "Her +attire was as simple as it was strange, consisting of an embroidered +tunic of finely dressed fawn skin, reaching a little below the knee, and +ending in a blue fringe. Some lighter fabric was worn under it, and +encased the arms. The shapely neck and throat were bare, though almost +hidden by a wealth of wavy golden tresses that flowed down her +shoulders. Her hat appeared to have been constructed out of the skin of +the snowy heron, with its beak and plumage preserved intact, and dressed +into the jauntiest style. Leggings of strong buckskin, that formed a +protection against the briers and roughness of the forest, were clasped +around a slender ankle, and embroidered moccasins completed an attire +that was not in the style of the girl of the period, even a century +ago." This nymph was fishing, and for a float used the bud of a water +lily! This is quite characteristic of the author's idea throughout. In +losing civilization this girl put on all the supposed graces and none of +the known brutishness of the wild state. The result is an incongruous +character, but it is quite in harmony with the general notion that the +natural state is one of greater perfection than that we really dwell in. +As for the story, it relates to Revolutionary times, introduces +Washington and the Continental army, with battles, dangers, and other +lively and thrilling situations. In plot it is crude and rough. The +author makes the artistic mistake of introducing religion as a principal +element of his tale, though it does not relate to a time or to persons +characteristically religious. The variety of incident, the presence of +historical characters, including Washington and "Captain" Molly, and a +certain _quantum_ of real skill in the author, will no doubt make this +book acceptable to the uncritical, but it does not deserve the attention +of others. We notice that the publishers announce the "fourteenth +thousand," which is the best indication of the book's popularity. + + * * * * * + +The ranks of the rhymers of the day are thronged with women, among the +better of whom is the author of "Edelweiss,"[22] who has gathered her +occasional verses into a pretty volume under the title of that graceful +and tender little poem. Her title-page bears no publisher's name and her +dedication to friends, whose loving kindness has welcomed them one by +one, and at whose request they have been gathered together, seems to +imply that they are privately printed. If this is because no publisher +would undertake the production of the volume, we do not wonder; not +because of the inferiority of the poems, for they are much better than +many that do find publishers. They belong to a large class in which the +world cannot be brought to take any great interest--verses expressive of +various emotions, love, devotion, resignation, and so forth, which are +all uttered with fervor or with tenderness, verses graceful in style, +and in good rhythm, and which yet produce no great impression; while on +the other hand they are much above that sentimental or that sententious +twaddle which sometimes finds many admirers. It is sad to see so much of +this sort of verse published; for it is the occasion and the sign of +woful disappointment to persons of unusual intelligence and true poetic +feeling, who, however, have not in any great measure the poetic faculty. + +--"Frithiof's Saga" has been often translated into English, and we have +here the result of one more effort to give us the great Swedish poem in +our own language.[23] The principal difference between this translation +and its predecessors is that this preserves the changing metres of the +original. It was undertaken chiefly because it seems the Swedes have not +been satisfied with the previous translations because they did not +follow the metre of the original. The reason is not a good one, and the +result of the attempt to conform to it is not very happy. There is no +question of pleasing the Swedes with a translation into English. It is +English ears that are to be consulted by what is written in English, +whether original or not. The Swedes have the original; that is for them; +the English version is for us. The effect of the many and great changes +in the rhythm and in the form of the verse is not pleasant to our taste; +and indeed we are inclined to think that the best translation of this or +of any other "Saga" would be into rhythmic prose, which embodied the +spirit, but did not simulate the form of the original. + +--It is very unfortunate for what is often called American literature, +that almost all attempts to treat any part of our history poetically or +dramatically are miserable failures. Among the verse books before us two +are of this kind; one by Mr. George L. Raymond,[24] who has written in +what he supposes is the ballad form some things which are not at all +ballad-like, and which are dreary stuff under whatever name; and the +other a thing which Mr. Martin F. Tupper[25] seems to suppose is a drama +in blank verse upon the events of our war of independence. A more stupid +and ridiculous performance we have rarely seen. That it should be read +through by any one seems to us quite insupposable. And yet, although he +has written this and "Proverbial Philosophy," Mr. Tupper is a D. C. L. +of Oxford and an F. R. S. + +--Something of a far higher quality than this is Mr. Bayard Taylor's +"National Ode" written for the Centennial celebration. It is to be +regretted, we think, that Mr. Taylor was not able to give himself up +entirely to poetical composition. He has the poetic faculty, and his +verse is nervous and manly, far better, we think, than his prose. Had he +been a poet only, he might have taken a still higher place in +contemporary literature. This poem, well known to the public, is one of +his finest and most spirited efforts. The present edition[26] is very +handsomely illustrated and printed. + +--Charles Sprague is an "American" poet of the last generation, who is +almost forgotten, and indeed quite unknown to readers of the present +day. He has something of Campbell in his style--Campbell in his calm and +serious moods. It may have been desirable to reprint his poems and +essays in an attractive volume,[27] with his portrait; but we fear that +he belongs to the class of middling writers of prose and verse who were +much talked of by our fathers chiefly because they were "American." + +--One of the best of the many volumes of verse upon our table is the +collection of poems by Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt.[28] Mrs. Piatt's muse is +often thoughtful, but in all that she has given us, of which much is +attractive in form and suggestive in substance, these lines that follow +are the most valuable. They refer to the altar which Paul found at +Athens "To the Unknown God": + + Because my life was hollow with a pain + As old as death: because my eyes were dry + As the fierce tropics after months of rain, + Because my restless voice said, "Why?" and "Why?" + + Wounded and worn, I knelt within the night + As blind as darkness--Praying? And to Whom?-- + When yond' _cold crescent cut my folded sight_, + And showed a phantom Altar in my room. + + It was the Altar Paul at Athens saw. + The Greek bowed there, but not the Greek alone! + The ghosts of nations gathered, wan with awe, + And laid their offerings on that shadowy stone. + + The Egyptian worshipped there the crocodile; + There they of Nineveh the bull with wings; + The Persian there with swart, sun-lifted smile + Felt in his soul the writhing fire's bright stings. + + There the weird Druid held his mistletoe; + There, for the scorched son of the sand, coiled bright, + The torrid snake was hissing sharp and low; + And there the Western savage paid his rite. + + "Allah," the Moslem darkly muttered there; + "Brahma," the jewelled Indies of the East + Sighed through their spices with a languid prayer; + "Christ?" faintly questioned many a paler priest. + + And still the Athenian Altar's glimmering Doubt + On all religions--evermore the same. + What tears shall wash its sad inscription out? + What hand shall write thereon His other name? + +The last five lines of Mrs. Piatt's poem express finely the feeling as +to God and religion which now fills countless numbers of the truest +hearts and brightest minds. + +--"As You Like It" has just been published in the "Clarendon Press +Series of Shakespeare's Select Plays." Mr. Grant White, in his article +"On Reading Shakespeare," in the present number of "The Galaxy," has +said so much in regard to this series and its present editor,[29] +William Aldis Wright, that it is only necessary for us to record here +the appearance of this edition of Shakespeare's most charming comedy, +and to say that Shakespeare's lovers and students will find in it some +new views which are interesting, and appear to be sound, and a copious +and careful body of annotation. + +--Of poetry, or rather of verse, as we before remarked, our table is +full this month, and with it we have a dictionary to teach us to rhyme +withal.[30] "Walker's Rhyming Dictionary" has had complete possession of +this field for three quarters of a century, and we are not sure that it +will be supplanted by Mr. Barnum's. His new plan is very systematic. He +classifies his words in groups--single rhymes, double rhymes, triple, +quadruple, and even quintuple rhymes; and then he divides and subdivides +and parcels off his words under separate headings. He does not give +definitions. The book will be valuable to the student of the English +language, more so, we are inclined to think, than to the mere +rhyme-hunter, who will prefer to run his finger and his eye down a +column of words arranged merely according to their final letters. + +--Mr. Tennyson's new dramatic poem is before us in the elegant Boston +typography of Ticknor & Field's worthy successors.[31] The poet laureate +added little to his fame by his previous dramatic work, "Queen Mary"; he +will gain less by this. It is good of course to a certain degree, but +it is only "fair to middling" Tennysonian work. We find in it not a +passage that stirs us, not one that charms. It puts the story of the +Norman Conquest of England into a dramatic form and into good blank +verse, with sound and sensible treatment of the subject, and that is +all. Its author's good taste, and above all his experience, his +dexterity, acquired by such long practice, are manifest on every page; +but there is little more. He dedicates it to the present Lord Lytton, in +evident desire to wipe out the memory of the old feud between him and +Bulwer Lytton; but that was too black and too bitter to be sponged away +with a little sugar and water. + +--Mr. Latham Cornell Strong is modest in his preface about his +collection of verse,[32] although he is rather too elaborately +metaphorical in his way of blushing properly. He says, as to the flaws +in his poems, that he "has a reasonable confidence that they will not +all be discovered by any one reader." This may be true from the probable +fact that no one reader will read them all; we think that we have met +with enough of them to show that Mr. Strong might well have refrained +himself from publication. For example, we think that a true poet could +hardly have written many such passages as these, and there are many such +in the volume: + + The night is rising from the trees, + Her _hands_, uplifted, _trail_ with stars + + The moon hath flung _its banners_ on the sward + + Old Rupert named, _alone of all the rest_ + She most esteemed, for he had brought her flowers, + To wreathe her tresses and make manifest + His sympathy for her, _in many ways expressed_ + +The last four lines unite incorrectness, tameness, and inelegance with +remarkable and fatal facility. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] "_The Theistic Conception of the World._ An Essay in Opposition to +Certain Tendencies of Modern Thought." By B. F. COCKER, D.D., LL.D. New +York: Harper & Brothers. + +[13] "_Religion and the State_; or, The Bible and the Public Schools." +By SAMUEL T. SPEAR, D.D. 12mo, pp. 393. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. + +[14] "_A Complete Life of General George A. Custer_," etc. By F. +WHITTAKER, Brevet Captain Sixth N. Y. V. Cavalry. New York: Sheldon & +Co. + +[15] "_The Lord's Land_: A Narrative of Travels in Sinai, Arabia, +Petræa, and Palestine, from the Red Sea to the Entering in of Hamath." +By HENRY B. RIDGAWAY, D.D. New York: Nelson & Phillips. + +[16] "_New Mexico and the New Mexicans_: A Political Problem." By an +Officer of the Army. + +[17] "_Through and Through the Tropics._" By FRANK VINCENT, Jr. New +York: Harper & Brothers. 1876. + +[18] "_Archivos do Musen Nacional do Rio de Janeiro._" Imprensa +Industrial. + +[19] "_The Wages Question._ A Treatise on Wages and the Wages Class." By +FRANCIS A. WALKER. New York: Henry Holt & Co. $3.50. + +[20] "_Elsie's Motherhood._" A Sequel to "Elsie's Womanhood." By MARTHA +FINLEY (FARQUHARSON). New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. + +[21] "_Near to Nature's Heart._" By Rev. E. P. ROE. New York: Dodd, Mead +& Co. + +[22] "_Edelweiss_: An Alpine Rhyme." By MARY LOWE DICKINSON. New York, +1876. + +[23] "_Frithiof's Saga._ A Norse Romance." By ESAIS FEGNER, Bishop of +Wexio. Translated from the Swedish by Thomas A. Holcombe and Martha and +Lyon Holcombe. 16mo, pp. 213. Chicago: S. C. Griggs & Co. + +[24] "_Colony Ballads_, etc., etc., etc., etc." By GEORGE L. RAYMOND. +16mo, pp. 95. New York: Hurd & Houghton. + +[25] "_Washington_: A Drama in Five Acts." By MARTIN F. TUPPER. 16mo, +pp. 67. New York: James Miller. + +[26] "_The National Ode._ The Memorial Freedom Poem." By BAYARD TAYLOR. +Illustrated. 8vo, pp. 74. Boston: William E. Gill & Co. + +[27] "_The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague._" 16mo, pp. +207. Boston: A. Williams & Co. + +[28] "_That New World, and Other Poems._" By Mrs. S. M. B. PIATT. 16mo, +pp. 130. Boston: James R. Osgood & Co. + +[29] "_Shakespeare._" Select Plays. "As You Like It." Edited by WILLIAM +ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A., Bursar of Trinity College, Cambridge. 16mo, pp. 168. +Oxford: at the Clarendon Press. + +[30] "_A Vocabulary of English Rhymes._" Arranged on a new plan. By the +Rev. SAMUEL W. BARNUM. 18mo, pp. 767. New York: D. Appleton & Co. + +[31] "_Harold_: A Drama." By ALFRED TENNYSON. 16mo, pp. 170. Boston: +James B. Osgood & Co. + +[32] "_Castle Windows._" By LATHAM CORNELL STRONG. 16mo, pp. 229. Troy: +H. B. Nims & Co. + + + + +NEBULÆ. + + +--The evolutionists manifestly feel that they are put upon their defence +in the matter of religion. As far as they themselves are concerned, they +are at peace with their own consciences; but nevertheless they do not +sit easily under the charge of atheism which is very generally brought +against them by that part of the world to which science does not stand +in place of religion. They are now making desperate efforts to show that +they have a religion, and Mr. M. J. Savage has written a very clever +book upon the subject, entitled "The Religion of Evolution." Mr. Savage +is a very pronounced evolutionist; he sticks at nothing in the most +extravagant form of the new theory, and the attitude which he would take +toward religion is clearly shown in the title of his previous volume on +a kindred subject, "Christianity the Science of Manhood." It is safe to +say that although Mr. Savage and others like him may call themselves +Christians and believe themselves to be so, and may live lives worthy of +the name, no man who twenty-five years ago was a professed believer in +the Christian religion, and comparatively very few of those who are so +now, would accept the term _science_ as applicable to Christianity or to +religion at all. For science means knowledge, knowledge of facts, and +cautious logical deductions from those facts; whereas the very essence +of religion is a faith which holds itself above knowledge and reason, a +faith which is not only the substance of things hoped for, but the +evidence of things not seen. And this great definition, one of the +greatest ever given, applies not particularly to the faith of the +Christian religion, but to all faiths--Judaism, Mohammedanism, Buddhism, +and the rest. The true religionist will sooner accept one of these as a +religion than a religion of evolution, or than he will consent to accept +Christianity as a science of anything--of manhood, or even of God-hood. + +--It is with this view of religion, this feeling about it, that the +evolutionists have to deal when they endeavor to free themselves from +the charge of irreligion. This is a state of the case which some of them +do not seem to appreciate at its full importance. They shirk it, or at +least they slight it; but Mr. Savage, it must be admitted, meets it +fairly and boldly. He takes the position that such a view of religion is +unworthy of a reasonable creature, and he brushes it aside with little +ceremony and with some dexterity. But his chief difficulty is with the +conception which lies at the foundation of all religions--the idea of +god. Granted a god, or gods, and religion follows as a matter of course; +and conversely, no god, no religion. Therefore the evolutionists, those +of them who feel, or who see the necessity of a religion, of whom Mr. +Savage may be taken as a fair representative, go about to provide +themselves and the rest of the universe with a god, and they do it in +this fashion. It is shown to the satisfaction of the evolutionists, and +also of very many who have no respect for their theory, that the Mosaic +cosmogony--that is, the account in Genesis of the creation of the earth +and its inhabitants, and all the visible universe--has never been +proved, and is incapable of proof, and that it holds its place in +popular belief solely because of its supposed connection with +Christianity; that it is merely a tradition (from however high and +venerable a source), and that it rests upon no knowledge or study of the +facts which it professes to explain; that it is in no way connected with +Christianity, which would stand on its own merits equally whether the +world were six thousand or six million years old, and whether it and its +inhabitants were made in six days or six æons; that it--the Mosaic +account of the origin of the world--explains nothing, but simply tells +dogmatically that God made all and that God did so and so; that no +intelligent person would think of resting satisfied with the Mosaic +account, had it not come to be regarded as a requirement of religion to +do so, but that this has become so fixed that the whole orthodox system +is the natural and logical outgrowth of the Mosaic account of the +beginning of things: "the prevailing belief about God, the nature and +the fall of man, total depravity, the need and the schemes for +supernatural redemption, the whole structure, creed, and ritual of the +Church, the common belief about the nature and efficacy of prayer +meetings, the whole system of popular revivals, limited salvation, and +everlasting punishment"--all and each being built on the foundation of +the Mosaic cosmogony. Therefore for the vast number of intelligent +thoughtful people to whom the Mosaic account of the creation is no +longer authoritative, although it may be mythically instructive, the +foundation of their religion is gone. It is then assumed that religion +must rest upon a veneration for the creative power or agent to which the +present _cosmos_ owes its existence, and that as the traditional God or +Creator of Genesis has been eliminated from cognition by science, his +place in religion must be taken by the power by which he is supplanted. +Hence we have the god of evolution and the religion of evolution. + +--But what is this god of evolution? In a very remarkable series of +papers which have appeared for some months past in "Macmillan's +Magazine," upon Natural Religion, remarkable equally for the subtlety +and closeness of their thought and their clearness of style, something +called Nature is set up as God; Mr. Savage's god, as nearly as we can +make out, is the law of evolution--the formative power by which the +universe passed from a mass of fluid fire, revolving in space, into +suns, and suns and planets, and their inhabitants. In either case it +amounts to about the same thing. What is nature? We may be sure the word +is not used in the sense which it has when we say that a man admires +nature, loves nature, or observes nature, nor in that which it has when +we speak of the nature of things or the nature in a work of the +imagination, or the nature of man, or "the nature of the beast." What is +it then? We are very sure that the "Macmillan" writer, with all his +delicacy of thought and command of expression, could not say exactly +what he means when he speaks of this Nature which is so worthy of +reverence and of love. For this reason, and for no other, we may be +sure, he has left the word undefined. This is important; for, as Mr. +Savage says in his eleventh chapter, when he proposes the question +whether evolution and Christianity are antagonistic, so that one +necessarily excludes the other--"that depends upon definitions." + +--The truth is that this whole question is one greatly of definitions. +What do you mean by God? what by Nature? what by religion? We are +inclined to think that if the two parties on one side and the other of +the great question of the day were to have a preliminary settlement of +definitions, it would become plain that there could be no discussion, +certainly no profitable discussion, between them--no more than there +could be a fight between a deep-sea fish and a chamois. They would find +that there was no ground on which they could meet, no point on which +they could come in contact! To one God is, and must be, a person, an +individual, who, however spiritual, eternal, omniscient, and +omnipresent, is yet as much a person as a man having a will, with +purposes, affections, feelings, sentiments, as indeed every spiritual +being must have--a being who can be feared, revered, admired, loved. +Religion to these men is worship of this person, obedience to his will +because it is his, faith in him, love of him. The god of the +evolutionists, on the other hand, is, if Nature, a mere manifestation or +result; if a law, a mere mode or rule of action. As to the religion of +evolution, we cannot, with all Mr. Savage's help, and that of the +"Macmillan" writer (who, we are sure, must be a man of mark, or at least +one who will become so), discover what it is, except a conformity to +what may be called the law of nature; but that is something of which a +healthy beast or a drop of water is quite as capable as a man is; and +such conformity implies feeling quite as much in one of these cases as +in the other. It implies feeling in no case; and religion without +feeling, sentiment, and faith is no religion at all in the sense which +the word has had from the beginning of its use to this day. The +religious man finds in _his_ God a being whom he can love and lean upon, +who has a right to his obedience, to whom he can be loyal, whom he can +address, calling him Father, as we are told that Christ did. But you +cannot love a law. True, David says, "O how I love thy law"; but the law +that he loved was the will of the Supreme Being, and he loved it because +it was His. It was not a mode of action or of evolution that he loved. +Nor can you obey such a law, although you may conform to it; nor can you +be loyal to it, for you cannot be loyal to an abstraction. As to +fatherhood, this law-god of evolution is the father of nothing except as +two and two are the father and mother of four. Therefore, while we +regard such books as Mr. Savage's as interesting expositions of the +condition as to super-scientific subjects into which modern science has +brought many of its votaries, we cannot see that they do anything toward +refuting the charge brought against science (as it is among the +evolutionists), that it is at war with religion, and takes away all the +grounds of religious faith. For that which the evolutionists set up as a +god religious people regard as the mere creature of the true God; and +what they set up as religion the others regard utterly lacking in all +the essentials of religion. It would be much better for the +evolutionists to face this whole question boldly, as Mr. Savage does in +part, and to say that the result of their investigations is the belief +that there is no God, and consequently that there need not be, and in +fact cannot be, any religion in the sense in which that word has for +centuries been used. Moreover, we cannot see the grounds of one pretence +which is made by the evolutionists, and which is implied if not in terms +set up in all their writings that are not purely scientific and have +what may be called a moral character, such as the book before us. This +is that their theory accounts for everything, and is more consistent +with reason than that of those who accept with faith the book of +Genesis. The evolution theory is, in the words of Mr. Savage, "that the +whole universe, suns, planets, moons, our earth, and every form of life +upon it, vegetable and animal, up to man, together with all our +civilization, has developed from a primitive fire-mist or nebula that +once filled all the space now occupied by the worlds; and that this +development has been according to laws and methods and forces still +active and working about us to-day." But if it be granted, or even +proved, that this is true, we cannot see how it satisfies the reason +when we come to the question of creation and a creator. For what a +stupendous, unutterably stupendous, and almost inconceivable thing was +that fire-mist that filled all space and had in it not only the germs +and possibilities of suns and moons and planets and our earth, but of +man and _all his civilization_; and those laws and methods and forces +according to which the universe and man and his civilization have been +evolved from a fire-mist--what inconceivable things they are! Now who +made the fire-mist and the law of evolution? We cannot see that reason +is satisfied by the substitution of a fire-mist and a law of evolution +for the will of a creator and a specific creation of the suns and stars +and planets, including the earth, and man, and his possibilities of +civilization. The thing is as broad one way as it is long the other. As +far as the fact of creation goes, in either case the belief must be a +matter of faith, not of reason. With regard to the anthropomorphism of +the Hebrew story, that is shared, and must be shared, by all +religions--that is, all religious which rest upon the notion of a +personal God. The limitations of man's nature, the limitations of +language, make anthropomorphic metaphor necessary when a man speaks of a +god. Even the evolutionists cannot get rid of the necessity of faith. + + * * * * * + +--Dr. Richardson's papers published in "Nature," and designed to prove +the advantage, and in fact the real necessity of experimenting on +animals in order to be ready to save human life, contain many +interesting facts and deserve to be widely read in view of the current +discussion as to the propriety of permitting the practice of +vivisection. The following case affords conclusive proof of the learned +and humane physiologist's argument. He says: "Dr. Weir Mitchell of +Philadelphia, in the year 1869, made the original and remarkable +observation that if a part of the body of a frog be immersed in simple +syrup, there soon occurs in the crystalline lens of the eyeball an +opaque appearance resembling the disease called cataract. He extended +his observations to the effects of grape sugar, and obtained the same +results. He found that he could induce the cataractic condition +invariably by this experiment, or by injecting a solution of sugar with +a fine needle, subcutaneously, into the dorsal sac of the frog. The +discovery was one of singular importance in the history of medical +science, and explained immediately a number of obscure phenomena. The +co-existence of the two diseases, diabetes and cataract, in man had been +observed by France, Cohen, Hasner, Mackenzie, Duncan, Von Graafe, and +others, and Von Graafe had stated that after examining a large number of +diabetic patients in different hospitals, he had found one-fourth +affected with cataract. Before Mitchell's observation there was not a +suspicion as to the reason of this connection, and a flood of light, +therefore, broke on the subject the moment he proclaimed the new +physiological fact. Still more, Mitchell showed that the cataract he was +able to induce by experiment was curable also by experiment, a truth +which will one day lead to the cure of cataract without operation. Then, +but not till then, the splendid character of this original +investigation, and the debt that is due to one of the most original, +honest, laborious workers that ever in any age cultivated the science +and art of medicine, will be duly recognized." Upon receiving +intelligence of this discovery, Dr. Richardson undertook experiments to +discover the cause of this dependence of cataract upon diabetes. He +found that whenever the specific gravity of the blood was raised to ten +degrees above the normal standard, and remained so for a short time, +cataract followed. He also found that the disease so produced could be +cured by removing the salts which had been introduced into the blood. +This certainly points to a cure for cataract which shall be really +radical, and adds another to the results which justify, even upon +humanitarian grounds, physiological experiments, at the expense of the +animal creation, within prescribed limits. + + * * * * * + +--Mr. Sorby has lately made some calculations of the probable size of +the invisible atoms which compose material substances. Dr. Royston +Pigott determined that the smallest visual angle which we can well +appreciate is that covering a hole of 11.4 inches diameter at a distance +of 1,100 yards. This corresponds to about six seconds of an arc. In a +microscope magnifying 1,000 diameters this would make visible a particle +one-three-millionth part of an inch thick. But Mr. Sorby is inclined to +think that a size between 1/80,000 and 1/100,000 of an inch is about the +limit of the visibility of minute objects, even with the best +microscopes. Now, taking the mean of the calculations made by Stoney, +Thomson, and Clerk-Maxwell, we have 21,770 as the number of atoms of any +permanent gas required to cover one-thousandth of an inch, when lying +end to end. By a series of calculations which produce numbers entirely +beyond human conception, (10,317,000,000,000 atoms in 1/100,000,000 of a +cubic inch, for instance) he reached the conclusion that there are in +the length of 1/80,000 of an inch (the smallest visible object) about +2,000 molecules of water, or 520 of albumen, and therefore, in order to +see the ultimate constitution of organic bodies, it would be necessary +to use a magnifying power from 500 to 2,000 times greater than those we +now possess. With this result settled, he was able to make one of those +radical predictions which are so rarely possible to the careful +scientist; namely, that the atom will never be seen by man. It is not +that instruments cannot be made powerful enough (though that is no doubt +true), but that the waves of light are too coarse to distinguish the +limits of such an extremely small distance. To see atoms we should need +light waves only one-two-thousandth of their actual length. At present +we are as far from that attainment as we are from reading a newspaper, +with the naked eye, at the distance of one-third of a mile. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, +February, 1877, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + +***** This file should be named 31085-8.txt or 31085-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/0/8/31085/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://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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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 Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, February, 1877 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 26, 2010 [EBook #31085] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>THE GALAXY.</h1> + +<h2>VOL. XXIII.—FEBRUARY, 1877.—No. 2.</h2> + + +<p>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by SHELDON & +CO., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p> + +<p class="notes">Transcriber's Note: Minor typos have been corrected and footnotes moved +to the end of the article. Table of contents has been created for the HTML version.</p> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#ADMINISTRATION_OF_ABRAHAM_LINCOLN"><b>ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ARTS_LIMITATIONS"><b>ART'S LIMITATIONS.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#APPLIED_SCIENCE"><b>APPLIED SCIENCE.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_MURDER_OF_MARGARY"><b>THE MURDER OF MARGARY.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_LETTERS_OF_HONORE_DE_BALZAC"><b>THE LETTERS OF HONORÉ DE BALZAC.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#LOVES_REQUIEM"><b>LOVE'S REQUIEM.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#STORY_OF_A_LION"><b>STORY OF A LION.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#A_WOMANS_GIFTS"><b>A WOMAN'S GIFTS.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_MODERN_PYTHIA"><b>THE MODERN PYTHIA.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ALNASCHAR"><b>ALNASCHAR.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#AUT_DIABOLUS_AUT_NIHIL"><b>AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#ON_READING_SHAKESPEARE"><b>ON READING SHAKESPEARE.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#THE_PHILTER"><b>THE PHILTER.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#MISS_MISANTHROPE"><b>MISS MISANTHROPE.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#DRIFT-WOOD"><b>DRIFT-WOOD.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY"><b>SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CURRENT_LITERATURE"><b>CURRENT LITERATURE.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#NEBULAE"><b>NEBULÆ.</b></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ADMINISTRATION_OF_ABRAHAM_LINCOLN" id="ADMINISTRATION_OF_ABRAHAM_LINCOLN"></a>ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN.</h2> + + +<p>The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress, from its commencement +to its close, tested the strength of the Government and the capability +of those who administered it. Disappointment, in consequence of no +decisive military success during the first few months of the war, had +caused a generally depressed feeling which begot discontent and distrust +that in various ways found expression in Congress. Democrats complained +more of the incapacity of the Executive than of the inefficiency of the +generals, and the entire Administration was censured and denounced by +them for acts which, if not strictly legal and constitutional in peace, +were necessary and unavoidable in war. Republicans, on the other hand, +were dissatisfied because so little was accomplished, and the factious +imputed military delay to mismanagement and want of energy in the +Administration. Indeed, but for some redeeming naval successes at +Hatteras and Port Royal preceding the meeting of Congress in December, +the whole belligerent operations would have been pronounced weak and +imbecile failures. Conflicting views in regard to the slavery question +in all its aspects prevailed; the Democrats insisting that fugitives +should be returned to their masters under the provisions of law, as in +time of peace. The Republicans were divided on this question, one +portion agreeing with the Democrats that all should be returned, +another claiming that only escaped slaves who belonged to loyal owners, +wherever they resided, should be returned; another portion insisted that +there should be no rendition of servants of rebel masters, even in loyal +or border States, who, by resisting the laws and setting the authorities +at defiance, had forfeited their rights and all Governmental protection. +Questions in regard to the treatment of captured rebels, and the +confiscation of all property of rebels, were agitated. What was the +actual condition of the seceding States, and what would be their status +when the rebellion should be suppressed, were also beginning to be +controverted points, especially among members of Congress. On these and +other questions which the insurrection raised, novel, perplexing, and +without law or precedent to guide or govern it, the Administration had +developed no well defined policy when Congress convened in December, +1861, but it was compelled to act, and that in such a manner as not to +alienate friends or give unnecessary offence, while maintaining the +Government in all its Federal authority and rights for the preservation +of the Union and the suppression of the rebellion.</p> + +<p>The character and duration of the war, which many had supposed would be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>brief, was still undetermined. While affairs were in this uncertain and +inchoate condition, and the Administration had no declared policy on +some of the most important questions, Congress came together fired with +indignation and revenge for a war so causeless and unprovoked. A large +portion of the members, exasperated toward the rebels by reason of the +war, and dissatisfied with delays and procrastination, which they +imputed chiefly to the Administration, were determined there should be +prompt and aggressive action against the persons, property, +institutions, and the States which had confederated to break up the +Union. There was, however, little unity among the complaining members as +to the mode and method of prosecuting the war. It was not difficult to +find fault with the Administration, but it was not easy for the +discontented to settle on any satisfactory plan of continuing it. The +Democrats complained that the President transcended his rightful +authority; the radical portion of the Republicans that he was not +sufficiently aggressive; that he was deficient in energy and too tender +of the rebels. It was at this period, after Congress had been in session +two months, and opinions were earnest but diverse and factious, with a +progeny of crude and mischievous schemes as to the conduct of affairs +and the treatment of the rebels, that Senator Sumner, in the absence of +a clearly defined policy on the part of the Administration, and while +things were not sufficiently matured to adopt one, submitted his project +for overthrowing the State governments and reducing them to a +territorial condition, and with the subversion of their governments the +abolition of slavery. It was the enunciation of a policy that was in +conflict with the Constitution, and would change the character of the +Government, but which he intended to force upon the Administration. +Though a scheme devised by himself, it had in its main features the +countenance of many and some able supporters.</p> + +<p>President Lincoln had high respect for Mr. Sumner, but was excessively +annoyed with this presentation of the extreme, and, as he considered +them, unconstitutional and visionary theories of the Massachusetts +Senator, which were intended to commit the Government and shape its +course. It was precipitating upon the Administration issues on delicate +and deeply important subjects at a critical period—issues involving the +structure of the Government and the stability of our Federal system. +These questions might have to be ultimately met and disposed of, but it +was requisite that they should be met with caution and deliberate +consideration. The times and condition of the country were inauspicious +for considerate statesmanship. The matters in dispute, the consequences +and results of the war, were yet in embryo. There could be no union of +sentiment on Senator Sumner's plan, nor any other at that period, in the +free States, in Congress, or even in the Republican party. There were +half a dozen factions to be reconciled or persuaded to act together. +This plan was felt to be an element of discord, which, if it could not +be finally averted, might in that gloomy period, when the country was +threatened and divided, have been temporarily, at least, avoided. But +Senator Sumner, though scholarly and cultured, was not always judicious +or wisely discreet. The President, as he expressed himself, could not, +in the then condition of affairs, afford to have a controversy with +Sumner, but he so managed as to check violent and aggressive demands by +quietly interposing delay and non-action.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, while the subjects of slavery, reconstruction, and +confiscation were being vehemently discussed, he felt the necessity of +adopting, or at least proposing, some measure to satisfy public +sentiment.</p> + +<p>On the subject of confiscation there were differing opinions among the +Republicans themselves, in Congress, which called out earnest debate. +The Radicals, such as Thaddeus Stevens,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> who were in fact revolutionists +and intended that more should be accomplished by the Government than the +suppression of the rebellion and the preservation of the Union, were for +the immediate and unsparing confiscation of the property of the rebels +by act of Congress without awaiting judicial proceedings. In their view +and by their plan rebels, if not outlaws, were to be considered and +treated as foreigners, not as American citizens; the States in +insurrection were to be reduced to the condition of provinces; the +people were to be subjugated and their property taken to defray the +expenses of the war. Mr. Sumner, less crafty and calculating than +Stevens, but ardent and impulsive, was for proceeding to extreme +lengths; and, having the power, he urged that they should embrace "the +opportunity which God in his beneficence had offered" to extinguish by +arbitrary enactment slavery, and all claim to reserved sovereignty in +the States; but Judge Collamer, calm and considerate, and other milder +men were opposed to any illegal and unjustifiable enactment.</p> + +<p>As is too often the case in high party and revolutionary times, the +violent and intriguing were likely to be successful, until it came to be +understood that the President would feel it obligatory to place upon the +extreme and unconstitutional measures his veto. A knowledge of this and +the attending fact, that his veto would be sustained, induced Congress +to pass a joint resolution, modifying the act, expounding and declaring +its meaning, instead of enacting a new and explicit law, which the +judiciary, whose province it is, would expound and construe.</p> + +<p>The President, in order not to be misunderstood when informing the House +of Representatives that he had affixed his signature to the bill and +joint resolution, also transmitted a copy of the message he had prepared +to veto the act in its original shape, with his objections, in which he +said that by a fair construction of the act he considered persons "are +not punished without regular trials, in duly constituted courts, under +the forms and the substantial provisions of the law and the Constitution +applicable to their several cases." It was apprehended at that time, and +subsequent acts proved the apprehension well founded, that Congress or +its radical leaders were disposed to assume and exercise not only +legislative, but judicial and executive powers. Rebels were by Congress +to be condemned and their property confiscated and taken without trial +and conviction. Such was not the policy of the President, as was soon +well understood; and to reconcile him and those who agreed with him, a +provision was inserted that persons who should commit treason and be +"<i>adjudged guilty thereof</i>" should be punished. But to prevent +misconception from equivocal phraseology in a somewhat questionable act, +he explicitly made known that "regular trials in duly constituted +courts" were to be observed, and the rights of the executive and +judicial departments of the Government maintained. This precaution, and +the determination which he uniformly expressed to regard individual +rights, and not to impose penalty or inflict punishment for alleged +crimes, whether of treason or felony, until after trial and conviction, +was not satisfactory to the extremists, who were ready to treat rebels +as outlaws, and condemn them without judge or jury.</p> + +<p>The Centralists in Congress, who were arrogating executive and judicial +as well as legislative power, authorized the President, by special +provision in this law, to extend pardon and amnesty on such occasions as +he might deem expedient. This was represented as special grace and a +great concession; but as the pardoning power is explicitly conferred on +the President by the Constitution, the permission or authorization given +by the act was entirely supererogatory. Congress could neither enlarge +nor diminish the authority of the Executive in that respect;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> but if the +President acquiesced, and admitted the right of the legislative body to +grant, it was evident the day was not distant that the same body, when +dissatisfied with his leniency, would claim the right to restrain or +prohibit. The ulterior design in this grant to the President of +authority which he already possessed, and of which they could not +legally deprive him, President Lincoln well understood, but felt it to +be his duty and it was his policy to have as little controversy with +Congress or any of the factions in that body as was possible, and he +therefore wisely forebore contention.</p> + +<p>On the slavery question, the alleged cause of secession and war, there +were legal and perplexing difficulties which, in various ways, +embarrassed the Administration, and in the disturbed condition of the +country prevented, for a time, the establishment and enforcement of any +decisive policy. By the Constitution and laws, slavery and property in +slaves were recognized, and the surrender and rendition of fugitives +from service to their owners was commanded; but in a majority of the +seceding States the usurping governments and the rebel slave-owners were +in open insurrection, resisting the Federal authority, defying it and +making war upon it. Still there were many citizens in those States who +were opposed to secession, loyal to the Federal Government, and earnest +friends of the Union, who owned slaves. What policy could the +Administration adopt in regard to these two classes of citizens in the +same State? The fugitive slave law was not and could not be enforced in +States where there was organized rebellion. Should fugitive slaves be +returned to both, or either, or neither of the owners in insurrectionary +States? There were moreover five or six border States, where slavery +existed, which did not secede. The governments and a majority of the +people of those States were patriotic supporters of the Union, but there +was a large minority in each of them who were violent enemies of the +Government and of the Union. Many of them were serving in the rebel +armies. For a time there was no alternative but to return slaves to +their owners who resided in border States which had neither seceded nor +resisted the Government. The Administration was not authorized to +discriminate, for instance, between slave-owners on the eastern shore of +the Potomac in the lower counties of Maryland and those on the western +shore in Virginia. There were, however, no secessionists, through the +whole South, more malignantly hostile to the Federal Union than a large +portion of the slave-owners in the southern counties of Maryland; but +the State not having seceded, and there being no organized resistance to +the Government, masters who justified secession continued to reclaim +their slaves, while on the opposite side of the river, in Virginia, +slave-owners who claimed to be loyal or neutral, could not reclaim or +obtain a restoration of their escaped servants. The Executive was +compelled to act in each of these cases, and its policy, the dictate of +necessity in the peculiar war that existed, was denounced by each of the +disagreeing factions. Affairs were in this unsettled and broken +condition when Congress convened at its second session in December, +1861. The action of the President in these conflicting cases as they +arose, if not condemned, was not fully approved. Many, if not a +majority, in Congress were undetermined what course to take. Democrats +insisted that the laws must be obeyed in all cases, in war as in peace. +The radical portion of the Republicans began to take extreme opposite +grounds, and claim that the laws were inoperative in regard to +slavery—that slavery was at all times inconsistent with a republican +government, and should now be extinguished. Among the revolutionary +resolutions of Senator Sumner of the 11th of February were some on the +subject of slavery. Other but not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> dissimilar propositions, antagonistic +to slavery, found expression, increasing in intensity as the war was +prolonged. While it was evident to most persons that one of the results +of the insurrection would be, in some way or form, the emancipation of +the slaves, there was no person who seemed capable of devising a +constitutional, practical plan for its accomplishment, except by +subjugation and violence. To these the President was unwilling to +resort; yet the necessity of doing something that did not transcend the +law, was morally right, and would tend to the ultimate freedom of the +slaves was felt to be an essential and indispensable duty. Unavailing +but seductive appeals continued in the mean time to be made by the +secessionists to the people of the border slave States to unite with the +further South for the security and protection of slavery, in which they +had a common interest, and against which there was increasing hostility +through the North. It was under these circumstances, with a large and +growing portion of the North in favor of abolition—the slave States, +including the border States, opposed to the measure and for the +preservation of the institution—that the President was to prescribe a +policy on which the government in the disordered state of the country +was to be administered.</p> + +<p>To surmount the difficulties, without setting aside the law, or giving +just offence to any, the President, with his accustomed prudence and +regard for existing legal rights, devised a course which, if acquiesced +in by those most in interest, would, he believed, in a legal way open +the road to ultimate, if not immediate, emancipation. Instead of +assenting to the demands of the radical extremists that he should, by +arbitrary proceedings, and in disregard of law and Constitution, decree +freedom to all slaves, he preferred milder and more conciliatory +measures. The authority or right of the national Government to abolish +or interfere with an institution that was reserved and belonged +exclusively to the States, he was not prepared to act upon or admit, +though entreated and urged thereto by sincere party friends, and also by +party supporters, whose sincerity was doubtful.</p> + +<p>There could be no excuse or pretext for such interference but the +insurrection; and, even as a war measure, there were obstacles in the +condition of the border slave States, to say nothing of loyal, patriotic +citizens in the insurrectionary region, that could not be overlooked.</p> + +<p>On the 6th of March, within less than three weeks after Senator Sumner +had submitted his revolutionary resolution, for reconstruction, and a +declaration that it is the duty of Congress "to see that everywhere in +this extensive (secession) territory slavery shall cease to exist +practically, as it has already ceased to exist constitutionally or +morally," that President Lincoln, not assenting to the assumption, sent +a message to Congress proposing a plan of voluntary and compensated +emancipation. In this message he suggested that "the United States ought +to co-operate with any State which may adopt gradual abolishment of +slavery, giving to each State pecuniary aid," etc., and he invited an +interview upon the 10th of March, with the representatives of the border +States, to consider the subject. They did not conclude at this interview +to adopt his suggestions, and some of them were much incensed that the +proposition had been made, believing it would alienate and drive many, +hitherto rightly disposed, into secession.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, the fact that slavery was doomed, and had received a death +blow from the war of secession, was so obvious, that the moderate and +reflecting began seriously to consider whether they ought not to give +the President's plan favorable consideration.</p> + +<p>While the policy of voluntary emancipation, in which the States should +be aided by the national Government, was not immediately successful, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +made such advance as, by the aid of the Federal Government, led to the +abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. The advocates of +immediate, general, and forcible emancipation, if not satisfied with the +conciliatory policy of the President, could not well oppose it.</p> + +<p>Warm discussions in Congress, and altercations out of it, on most of the +important questions growing out of the war, and particularly on those of +confiscation, emancipation, and reconstruction, or the restoration of +the States to their rightful position, and the reëstablishment of the +Union, were had during the whole of the second session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress. All of these were exciting and important +questions, the last involving grave principles affecting our federal +system, and was most momentous in its consequences. As time and events +passed on, the convictions and conclusions of the President became more +clear and distinct as to the line of policy which it was his duty and +that of the Administration to pursue.</p> + +<p>Dissenting, wholly and absolutely, from the revolutionary views and +schemes of Senator Sumner and those who agreed with him, the President +became convinced, as the subject had been prematurely introduced and +agitated, with an evident intent to forestall and shape the action of +the Government, that the actual status of the rebel States and their +true relation to the Federal Government should be distinctly understood. +The resolution of Mr. Dixon, a gentleman of culture and intelligence, +who, as well as Mr. Sumner, was a New England Senator, and also of the +same party, was, it will be observed, diametrically opposed to the +principles and the project of the Massachusetts Senator on the great, +impending, and forthcoming subject of reconstruction. It was directly +known that the President coincided with the Connecticut Senator in the +opinion that all the acts and ordinances of secession were mere +nullities, and should be so treated; that while such acts might subject +<i>individuals</i> to penalties and forfeitures, they did not in any degree +affect the <i>States</i> as commonwealths, and their relations to the Federal +Government; that such acts were rebellious, insurrectionary, and hostile +on the part of the <i>persons</i> engaged in them, but that the <i>States</i>, +notwithstanding the acts and conspiracies of individuals, were still +members of the Federal Union, and that the loyal citizens of these +States had forfeited none of their rights, but were entitled to all the +protection and privileges guaranteed by the Constitution.</p> + +<p>The theory and principles set forth in Senator Dixon's resolutions were +the opinions and convictions of the President, deliberately formed and +consistently maintained while he lived, on the subject of reconstruction +and the condition of the States and people in the insurrectionary +region. In his view there was no actual secession, no dismembering of +the Union, no change in the Constitution and Government; the relative +position of the States and the Federal Government were unchanged; the +organic, fundamental laws of neither were altered by the sectional +conspiracy; the whole people, North and South, were American citizens; +each person was responsible for his own acts and amenable to law; and he +was also entitled to the protection of the law, and the rights and +privileges secured by the Constitution. The confiscation and +emancipation schemes concerning which there was so much excitement in +Congress were of secondary consideration to the all-absorbing one of +preserving the Union.</p> + +<p>The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress closed on the 17th of +July. Its proceedings had been confused and uneasy, with a good deal of +discontented and revolutionary feeling, which increased toward the +close. The decisive stand which the President had taken, and which he +calmly, firmly, and persistently maintained against the extreme measures +of some of the most prominent Republicans in Congress, was +unsatisfactory.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> It was insinuated that his sympathies on important +measures had more of a Democratic than Republican tendency; yet the +Democratic party maintained an organized and often unreasonable, if not +unpatriotic, opposition.</p> + +<p>Military operations, aside from naval success at New Orleans and on the +upper Mississippi, had been a succession of military reverses. +Disagreement between the Secretary of War and the General-in-Chief, +which the President could not reconcile, caused the latter to be +superseded after the disastrous result before Richmond. Dissensions in +the army and among the Republicans in Congress, the persistent +opposition of Democrats to the Administration, and the general +depression that prevailed were discouraging. "In my position," said the +President, "I am environed with difficulties." Friends on whom he felt +he ought to be able to rely were dissatisfied with his conscientious +scruples and lenity, and party opponents were unrelenting against the +Administration.</p> + +<p>A few days before Congress adjourned, the President made another but +unsuccessful effort to dispose of the slavery question, by trying to +induce the border States to take the initiative in his plan of +compensated emancipation. The interview between him and the +representatives of the border States, which took place on the 12th of +July, convinced him that the project of voluntary emancipation by the +States would not succeed. Were it commenced by one or more of the +States, he had little doubt it would be followed by others, and +eventuate in general emancipation by the States themselves. Failing in +the voluntary plan, he was compelled, as a war necessity, to proclaim +freedom to all slaves in the rebel section, if the war continued to be +prosecuted after a certain date. This bold and almost revolutionary +measure, which would change the industrial character of many States, +could be justified on no other ground than as a war measure, the result +of military necessity. It was an unexpected and startling demonstration +when announced, that was welcomed by a vast majority of the people in +the free States. In Congress, however, neither this nor his project of +compensated emancipation was entirely acceptable to either the extreme +anti-slavery or pro-slavery men. The radicals disliked the way in which +emancipation was effected by the President. But, carried forward by the +force of public opinion, they could not do otherwise than acquiesce in +the decree, complaining, however, that it was an unauthorized assumption +by the Executive of power which belonged to Congress.</p> + +<p>The opponents of the President seized the occasion of this bold measure +to create distrust and alarm, and the result of the policy of +emancipation in the election which followed in the autumn of 1862 was +adverse to the Administration. Confident, however, that the step was +justifiable and necessary, the President persevered and consummated it +by a final proclamation on the 1st of January, 1863.</p> + +<p>The fact that the Administration lost ground in the elections in +consequence of the emancipation policy served for a time to promote +unity of feeling among the members when Congress convened in December. +The shock occasioned by the measure when first announced had done its +work. The timid, who had doubted the necessity and legality of the act, +and feared its consequences, recovered their equipoise, and a reaction +followed which strengthened the President in public confidence. But the +radical extremists, especially the advocates of Congressional supremacy, +began in the course of the winter to reassert their own peculiar ideas +and their intention of having a more extreme policy pursued by the +Government.</p> + +<p>Thaddeus Stevens embraced an early opportunity to declare his extreme +views, which were radically and totally antagonistic to those of the +President.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> But Stevens, whose ability and acquirements as a politician, +and whose skill and experience as a party tactician were unsurpassed if +not unequalled in either branch of Congress, made no open, hostile +demonstration toward the President. He restricted himself to +contemptuous expressions in private conversation against the Executive +policy and general management of affairs. Without an attack on the +President, whom he personally liked, the Administration was sneered at +as weak and inefficient, of which little could be expected until a more +aggressive and scathing policy was adopted. His personal intercourse +with members and his talents and eloquence on the floor of the House +gave him influence with the representatives on ordinary occasions, but +his ultra radical and revolutionary ideas caused the calm and +considerate to distrust and disclaim his opinions and his leadership. It +was not until a later period, and under another Executive, less affable +but not less honest and sincere than Mr. Lincoln, that the suggestions +of Stevens were much regarded. When his disciples and adherents became +more partisan and numerous, they, in order to give him power and +consequence and reconcile their constituents, denominated him the "Great +Commoner."</p> + +<p>If his political hopes and party schemes had been sometimes successful, +his reverses and disappointments had been much greater. Many and severe +trials during an active, embittered, and often unscrupulous partisan +experience, had tempered his enthusiasm if they had not brought him +wisdom. Defeats can hardly be said to have made him misanthropic; but +having little philosophy in his composition, he vented his spleen when +there was occasion on his opponents in ironical remarks that made him +dreaded, and which were often more effective than arguments; but his +sagacity and knowledge of men taught him that a hostile and open +conflict with a chief magistrate whose honesty even he respected, and +whose patriotism the people so generally regarded, would be not only +unavailing, but to himself positively injurious. He therefore conformed +to circumstances; and while opposed to the tolerant policy of the +Administration toward the rebels and the rebel States, he had the tact +and address, with his wit and humor, to preserve pleasant social +intercourse and friendly personal relations with the President, who well +understood his traits and purpose, but avoided any conflict with him.</p> + +<p>For the first five or six weeks of the third session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress, Stevens improved his time in free and sarcastic +remarks on the reconstruction policy of the Government, which he +characterized as puerile and feeble, and at length, on the 8th of +January, he gave utterance to his feelings, maintaining that "with +regard to all the Southern States in rebellion, the Constitution has no +binding influence or application." He averred that "in his opinion they +were not members of the Union"; that "the ordinances of secession took +them out of the Union"; that he "would levy a tax wherever he could upon +these conquered provinces"; said he "would not only collect the tax, but +he would, as a necessary war measure, take every particle of property, +real and personal, life estate and reversion, of every disloyal man, and +sell it for the benefit of the nation in carrying on this war."</p> + +<p>Several members of Congress hastened to deny that these sentiments and +purposes were those of the Republican party; this Mr. Stevens admitted. +He said "a very mild denial from the pleasant gentleman from New York +[Mr. Olin], and the somewhat softened and modified repudiation of the +gentleman from Indiana" (Mr. Colfax), would, he hoped, satisfy the +sensitive gentlemen in regard to him, and he "desired to say he did not +speak the sentiments of this side of the House <i>as a party</i>."; that +"for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> the last fifteen years he [Stevens] had always been ahead of the +party in these matters, but he had never been so far ahead but that the +members of the party had overtaken and gone ahead; and they would again +overtake him and go with him before the infamous and bloody rebellion +was ended." "They will find that they must treat those States, now +outside of the Union, as conquered provinces, and settle them with new +men, and drive the present rebels as exiles from this country." "Nothing +but extermination, or exile, or starvation, will ever induce them to +surrender to the Government."</p> + +<p>Not very consistent or logical in his policy and views, this +subsequently Radical leader proposed to treat the Southern people +sometimes as foreigners and at other times as rebel citizens; in either +case he would tax, starve, and exile them—make provinces of their +States, and overturn their old established governments. Few, +comparatively, of the Republicans were at that time prepared to follow +Stevens or adopt his vindictive and arbitrary measures. Shocked at his +propositions, the "Great Commoner" had at that day few acknowledged +adherents. When in vindication of his scheme it was asked upon what +ground the collection of taxes could be enforced in the Southern States, +Judge Thomas, one of the ablest and clearest minds of the Massachusetts +delegation, said, "Upon this ground, that the authority of this +Government at this time is as valid over those States as it was before +the acts of secession were passed; upon the ground that every act of +secession passed by those States is utterly null and void; upon the +ground that every act legally null and void cannot acquire force because +armed rebellion is behind it, seeking to uphold it; upon the ground that +the Constitution makes us not a mere confederacy, but a <i>nation</i>; upon +the ground that the provisions of that Constitution strike through the +State government and reach directly, not intermediately, the subjects. +Subjects of whom? Of the nation—of the United States." "Who ever heard, +as a matter of public law, that the authority of a government over its +rebellious subjects was lost until that revolution was successful—was a +fact accomplished?"</p> + +<p>Shortly after the capture of New Orleans and the establishment of +Federal authority over Louisiana, two of the Congressional districts of +that State elected representatives to Congress. The admission or +non-admission of these representatives involved the question of the +political condition of the Southern States and people in the Federal +Union, and the whole principle, in fact, of restoration and +reconstruction.</p> + +<p>The subject was long and deliberately considered and fully discussed in +Congress. The committee on elections reported in favor of their +admission, and Mr. Dawes of Massachusetts, the chairman, stated that +"more than ordinary importance is attached to the consideration of this +subject. It is not simply whether two gentlemen shall be permitted to +occupy seats in this House. The question whether they shall be admitted +involves the principles touching the present state of the country to +which the attention of the House has more than once been called." He +said, "The question now comes up, whether any reason exists that +requires any departure from the rules and principles which have been +adopted." "An adherence to these principles is vitally important in +settling the question, how there is to be a restoration of this Union +when this war shall be drawn to a close."</p> + +<p>The subject of admitting these representatives and the principles of a +restoration of the Union which their admission involved, was debated +with earnestness for several days, and finally decided, on the 17th of +February, in favor of admitting them, by a vote of ninety-two in the +affirmative to forty-four in the negative.</p> + +<p>An analysis of this vote, in view of the proceedings, acts, and votes +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> many of the same members a few years subsequently, after Mr. +Lincoln's death, presents some curious and interesting facts. It was not +a strictly party vote. Among those who then favored the Administration +policy of restoration were Colfax, Dawes, Delano, Fenton, Fisher of +Delaware, Wm, Kellogg, J. S. Morrill of Vermont, Governor A. H. Rice of +Massachusetts, Shellabarger, and others who opposed the restoration +policy of President Lincoln after his death and the accession of +President Johnson.</p> + +<p>In the negative with Thaddeus Stevens were Ashley, Bingham, the two +Conklings, Kelley, McPherson, and a few others. But when reconstruction +or exclusion actually took place after the termination of the war, great +changes occurred among the members of Congress, and Stevens, the "Great +Commoner," who in 1863 had a following of less than one-third of the +representatives, rallied, four years later, more than two-thirds to his +standard against restoration and for subjugation and exclusion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stevens was no ordinary man. At the bar he was astute and eloquent +rather than profound, but in the Legislature of Pennsylvania and in the +management of the affairs of that State, where for a period he actively +participated and was a ruling mind, he was often rash and turbulent, and +had, not without cause, the reputation of being a not over scrupulous +politician. Personally my relations with him, though not intimate, were +pleasant and friendly. I was first introduced to him at Harrisburg in +1836, when he was a member of the convention that revised the +Constitution of Pennsylvania. We occasionally met in after years. He +expressed himself pleased with my appointment in Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet, +and, notwithstanding we disagreed on fundamental principles, he +complimented my administration of the Navy Department, and openly and +always sustained my positions, and particularly so on the subject of the +blockade, on which there were differences in the Administration. In the +Pennsylvania convention of 1836 he was probably the most eloquent +speaker, but his ideas were often visionary and radical. He ultimately +refused to sign the Constitution because the colored people were denied +the elective franchise. Severe as he exhibited himself toward the rebels +during and subsequent to the civil war, Mr. Stevens was not by nature, +as might be supposed, inhuman in his feelings and sympathies toward his +fellow men. To the colored race he seemed always more attached and +tender than to the whites, perhaps because they were enslaved and +oppressed. He was opposed to slavery, to imprisonment for debt, and to +capital punishment. There were strange contradictions in his character. +In his political career he had ardent supporters, though many who voted +with him had not a high regard for his principles. His course and +conduct in the Legislature and government of Pennsylvania did much to +debauch the political morals of that State, and in the celebrated +"buck-shot war" he displayed the bold and reckless disregard of justice +and popular rights that distinguished the latter years of his +Congressional life, when he became the acknowledged leader of the +radical reconstruction party in Congress.</p> + +<p>In his political career and management, though strongly sustained by a +local constituency, he had experienced a series of disappointments. The +defeat of John Quincy Adams, whom he greatly admired, in 1828, and the +election of General Jackson, against whom his prejudices were +inveterate, were to him early and grievous vexations.</p> + +<p>The attempt of Mr. Adams on his retirement to establish a national +anti-Masonic party was warmly seconded by Stevens, and with greater +success in Pennsylvania than attended his distinguished leader in +Massachusetts. The failure of the attempt was more severely felt by the +disciple than by the master. After the annihilation of the anti-Masonic +organization and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> discomfiture of the buck-shot war, Stevens was +less conspicuous, though prominent for a few months in 1840, when he +came forward as an earnest advocate of the nomination of General +Harrison in that singular campaign which resulted in the General's +election. His efficiency and zeal in behalf of both the nomination and +election of the "hero of Tippecanoe" were acknowledged, and he and his +friends anticipated they would be recognized and he rewarded by a seat +in the Cabinet. But he had given offence to the great Whig leader of +that day by his preference of Harrison for President, and had moreover +an unsavory reputation, which, with the declared opposition of Clay and +Webster, caused his exclusion. It was a sore disappointment, from which +he never fully recovered. Eight years later, with the advent of General +Taylor and the defeated aspirations of the Whig leaders, who had caused +his exclusion from Harrison's Cabinet, he sought and obtained an +election to the thirty-first Congress from the Lancaster district. In +1856 he strove with all his power to secure the Presidential nomination +for John McLane of the Supreme Court, who had or professed to have had +anti-Masonic tendencies. His ill success was another disappointment; but +in 1859 he was again elected to Congress, and thereafter until his death +he represented the Lancaster district.</p> + +<p>Disappointments had made him splenetic, but he was not, as represented +by his opponents on the two extremes, either a charlatan or a miscreant, +though possibly not wholly exempt from charges against him in either +respect. In many of his ultra radical and it may be truly said +revolutionary views—revolutionary because they changed the structure of +the Government—he coincided with Senator Sumner, who was perhaps the +leading spirit in the Senate on the subject of reconstruction, but he +did not, like the Massachusetts Senator, make any pretence that his +project to subjugate the Southern people and reduce their States to the +condition of provinces was constitutional, or by authority of the +Declaration of Independence. President Lincoln well understood the +characteristics of both these men, and, though differing from each on +the subject of restoration and reconstruction, he managed to preserve +friendly personal relations with both—retained their confidence, and +while he lived secured their general support of his Administration. +Herein President Lincoln exhibited those peculiar qualities and +attributes of mind which made him a leader and manager of men, and +enabled him in a quiet and unostentatious way to exercise his executive +ability in administering the Government during the most troublesome +period of our national history.</p> + + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Gideon Welles.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ARTS_LIMITATIONS" id="ARTS_LIMITATIONS"></a>ART'S LIMITATIONS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This rich, rank Age—does it breed giants now—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dantes or Michaels, Raphaels, Shakespeares? Nay!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Its culture is of other sort to-day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From the stanch stem (too ready to allow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Growths that divide the strength that should endow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The one tall trunk) who firmly lops away,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With wise reserve, such shoots as lead astray<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The wasted sap to some collateral bough?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Had Dante chiselled stone, had Angelo<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Intrigued with courts, had Shakespeare dulled his pen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With critic gauge of Chaucer, Drummond, Ben—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What lack there were of that life-giving shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which these high-tower'd, centurial oaks have made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where walk the happy nations to and fro!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">Margaret J. Preston.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="APPLIED_SCIENCE" id="APPLIED_SCIENCE"></a>APPLIED SCIENCE.</h2> + +<h3>A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS.</h3> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h4>CONCLUSION.</h4> + +<p>The events of the last chapter happened on the night of Friday, July 17, +1874. The following day, Saturday, broke calm, clear, and warm. Elmer +awoke early, carefully looked out of a crack in his window curtain, and +found that the chimney-builder's room was empty.</p> + +<p>"The enemy has flown. I wonder if Alma is up?"</p> + +<p>He uncovered a small telegraphic armature and sounder standing on the +window-seat, and touched it gently. In an instant there was a response, +and Alma replied that she was up and dressed and would soon be down.</p> + +<p>She met him in the library, smiling, and apparently happy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer, he has gone away. He left a note on the breakfast table, +saying that he had gone to New York, and that he should not return till +Monday or Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"That's very good; but I think it means mischief."</p> + +<p>Just here the breakfast bell rang. The table was set for four, but Alma +and Elmer were the only ones who could answer the call, and they sat +down to the table alone. They talked of various matters of little +consequence, and when the meal was over Elmer announced that as the day +was quiet, he should make a little photographing expedition about the +neighborhood.</p> + +<p>"My visit here is now more than a quarter over, and I wish to take home +some photos of the place. Will you not go with me?"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart, if I can leave father. But please not talk of going +home yet. I hope you will not go till things are settled. We want you, +Elmer. You are so wise and strong, and—you know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I do. At any rate I'm not going till I have paid up that +Belford for his insults."</p> + +<p>"Oh, let's not talk of him to-day."</p> + +<p>This was eminently wise. They had better enjoy the day of peace that was +before them. The shadow of the coming events already darkened their +lives, though they knew it not. Mr. Denny was so much better that he +could spare Alma, and about ten o'clock she appeared, paper umbrella in +hand, at the porch, and Elmer soon joined her bearing a small camera, +and a light wooden tripod for its support.</p> + +<p>The two spent the morning happily in each other's company, and at one +o'clock returned to dinner with quite a number of negatives of various +objects of interest about the place. After dinner the young man +retreated to his room to prepare for the battle that he felt sure would +rage on the following Monday.</p> + +<p>He did not know all the circumstances of the trouble that had invaded +the family, but he felt sure that the confidential clerk intended some +terrible shame or exposure that in some way concerned his cousin Alma. +So it was he came to call himself her Lohengrin, come to fight her +battles, not with a sword, but with the telegraph, the camera, and the +micro-lantern.</p> + +<p>The Sabbath passed quietly, and the Monday came. After breakfast the +student retreated to his room and tried to study, but could not.</p> + +<p>About ten o'clock he heard a carriage of some kind stop before the +house. His room being at the rear, he could not see who had come, and +thinking that it might be merely some stray visitor, and that at least +it did not concern him, he turned to his books and made another attempt +to read.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>After some slight delay he heard the carriage drive away, and the old +house became very still. Then he heard a door open down stairs, and a +moment after one of the maids knocked at his door.</p> + +<p>"Would Mr. Franklin kindly come down stairs? Mr. Denny wished to see him +in the library."</p> + +<p>He would come at once; and picking up a number of unmounted photographs +from the table, he prepared to go down stairs. He hardly knew why he +should take the pictures just then. There seemed no special reason why +he should show them to Mr. Denny; still, an indefinite feeling urged him +to take them with him.</p> + +<p>The library was a small room, dark, with heavy book shelves against the +walls, and crowded with tables, desk, and easy chairs. There was a +student lamp on the centre table, and in a corner stood a large iron +safe. Mr. Denny was seated at the table with his back to the door, and +with his head supported by his hand and arm. He did not seem to notice +the arrival of his visitor, and Elmer advanced to the table and laid the +photographs upon it.</p> + +<p>"I am glad you have come, Mr. Franklin. I wish to talk with you. I wish +to tell you something. A great affliction has fallen upon us, and I wish +you, as our guest, to be prepared for it. I think I can trust you, Elmer +Franklin. I remember your mother, my boy. You have her features—and I +will trust you for her sake. We are ruined."</p> + +<p>"How, sir? How is that possible, with all your property?"</p> + +<p>"Not one cent of my property—not a foot of ground, or a single brick, +or piece of shafting in the mills—belongs to me."</p> + +<p>"This is terrible, sir. How did it happen?"</p> + +<p>"It is a short and sad story. I was my father's only child, and there +were no other heirs. My father's last illness was very sudden, and he +left no will. He told me when he died that he had left everything to me. +We never found any will that would bear out this assertion. However, +the ordinary process of law gave me the property, and I thought myself +secure. Suddenly a will was found, in which all the property was left to +a distant relative in New York, and I was merely mentioned with some +trifling gift. I contested the will and lost the case. It was an +undoubted will, and in my father's own handwriting, and dated more than +a year before he died and when I was rusticating from college. I thought +I must needs sow my wild oats, and day after to-morrow I pay for them +all by total beggary. The devisee, by the will, acted very strangely +about the property. He did not disturb me for a very long time. He +probably feared to do so; and then he made a mortgage of one hundred +thousand dollars on the property, took the money, and went abroad."</p> + +<p>"And he left you here in possession?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The interest on the mortgage became due. There was no one to pay +it, and they even had the effrontery to come to me. I refused again and +again, and every time the interest was added to the mortgage till it +rolled up to an enormous amount. Meanwhile the devisee died, penniless, +in Europe, and on Wednesday Abrams, the lawyer who holds the mortgage, +is to take possession of everything—and we—we are to go—I know not +whither."</p> + +<p>For a few moments there was a profound silence in the room. The elder +man mourned his dreadful fate, and the son of science was ready to shout +for joy. Restraining himself with an effort, he said, not without a +tremor in his voice:</p> + +<p>"And have you searched for any other will?"</p> + +<p>"That is an idle question, my son. We have searched these years. Then, +too, just as I need a staff for my declining years, it breaks under me."</p> + +<p>"You refer to Mr. Belford, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Since I injured my foot in the mill, I have trusted all my +affairs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> to him, and now I sometimes think he is playing me false. Even +now, when all this trouble has come upon me, he is absent, and I have no +one to consult, nor do I find any to aid or comfort me."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I can aid you, sir."</p> + +<p>"I do not know. I fear no one can avail us now."</p> + +<p>"May I be very frank with you, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly. I am past all pride or fear. There can be nothing worse +now."</p> + +<p>"I think, sir, you have placed too much confidence in that man. He is +not trustworthy."</p> + +<p>"How do you know? Can you prove it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. You remember the new chimney?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but he explained that, and collected all the money that had been +paid on the supposed extra height of the chimney."</p> + +<p>"That was very easy, sir, for he had it in his own pocket. I met some of +the work people in the village, and casually asked them how high the +chimney was to be, and every man gave the real height. Mr. Belford lied +to you about it, and pocketed the difference between his measurements +and mine. Of course, when detected he promptly restored the money, and +thought himself lucky to have escaped so easily. More than that, he +claimed that the chimney was capped with stone. It is not. It is brick +to the top, and the upper courses were rubbed over with colored +plaster."</p> + +<p>"I can hardly believe it. Besides, how can you prove it?"</p> + +<p>"That will, sir. Look at it carefully."</p> + +<p>So saying, Elmer selected a photograph from those on the table and +presented it to Mr. Denny.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman looked at it carefully for a few moments, and then +said with an air of conviction—</p> + +<p>"It is a perfect fraud. I had no idea that the man was such a thief."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Look at that bare place where the plaster has fallen off. +You can see the brick——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can see. There is no need to explain the picture. Have you any +more?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; quite a number. I'm glad I brought them with me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny turned them over slowly, and commented briefly upon them.</p> + +<p>"That's the house. Very well done, my boy. That's the mill. Excellent. I +should know it at once. And—eh! what's that? The batting mill?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. That's the new building going up beyond the millpond."</p> + +<p>"Great heavens! What an outrageous fraud! Mr. Belford told me it was +nearly done. He has drawn almost all the money for it already, and +according to this picture only one story is up. When was this picture +taken?"</p> + +<p>"On Saturday, sir. Alma was with me. She will tell you."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny rang a small bell that stood at his elbow, and a maid came to +the door.</p> + +<p>"Will you call Miss Denny, Anna?"</p> + +<p>The maid retired, and in a moment or two Alma appeared. She seemed pale +and dejected, and she sat down at once as if weary.</p> + +<p>"What is it, father? Any new troubles?"</p> + +<p>"Were you with your cousin when he took this photograph?"</p> + +<p>She looked at it a moment, and then said wearily:</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's the batting mill."</p> + +<p>Just here the door opened, and Mr. Belford, hat and travelling bag in +hand, as if just from the station, entered the room. The two men looked +up in undisguised amazement, but Alma cast her eyes upon the floor, and +her face seemed to put on a more ashen hue than ever.</p> + +<p>"Ah! excuse me. I did not mean to intrude. I'm just from New York, and I +have been so successful that I hastened to lay the news before you."</p> + +<p>"What have you to say, Mr. Belford," said Mr. Denny coldly. "There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> are +none but friends here, and you need not fear to speak."</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin hastily gathered up the pictures together, and rolling them +up, put them in his pocket, with the mental remark that he "knew of one +who was not a friend—no, not much."</p> + +<p>"I have arranged everything," said Mr. Belford, with sublime audacity. +"The note has been taken up. I have even obtained a release of the +mortgage, and here is the cancelled note and the release. To-morrow I +will have it recorded."</p> + +<p>"We are in no mood for pleasantry, Mr. Belford. The sheriff was here +to-day, and Abrams is to take possession on Wednesday."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I knew that. He did not get my telegram in time, or he would have +saved you all this unnecessary annoyance. And now everything is all +serene, and there is Abrams's release in full."</p> + +<p>He took out a carefully folded paper, and gave it to Mr. Denny. He read +it in silence, and then said:</p> + +<p>"It seems to be quite correct. We——"</p> + +<p>Alma suddenly dropped her head upon her breast, and slid to the floor in +a confused heap. She thought she read in that fatal receipt her death +warrant. Nature rebelled, and mercifully took away her senses.</p> + +<p>Elmer sprang to her rescue, but Mr. Belford intruded himself.</p> + +<p>"It is my place, Mr. Franklin. She is to be my wife."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The dreary day crept to its end. Alma recovered, and retired to her +room. Mr. Denny, overcome by the excitement of the interview, was quite +ill, and the visitor, oppressed with a sense of partial defeat, took a +long walk through the country. The enemy had made such an extraordinary +movement that for the time he was disconcerted, and he wished to be +alone, that he could think over the situation. About six o'clock in the +afternoon he returned looking bright and calm, as if he had thought out +his problem and had nerved himself up to do and dare all in behalf of +the woman he loved. He went quietly to his room and began his +preparations for a vigorous assault upon the enemy.</p> + +<p>He rolled out his micro-lantern into the middle of the room, drew up the +curtains at the window that faced Mr. Belford's chamber, and prepared to +adjust the apparatus to a new and most singular style of lantern +projections. He had hardly finished the work to his satisfaction before +he heard Alma's knock at the door. He hastily drew down the curtains, +and then invited her to come in.</p> + +<p>She opened the door and appeared upon the threshold, the picture of +resigned and heavy sorrow. She had evidently been weeping, and the dark +dress in which she had arrayed herself seemed to intensify the look of +anguish on her face. The son of science was disconcerted. He did not +know what to say, and, with great wisdom, he said nothing.</p> + +<p>She entered the room without a word, and sat wearily down on a trunk. +Elmer quickly rolled out the great easy chair so that it would face the +open western window.</p> + +<p>"Sit here, Miss Denny. This is far more comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! Have you too turned against me?"</p> + +<p>"Not knowingly. Sit here where there is more air, and before this view +and this beautiful sunset."</p> + +<p>She rose, and with a forlorn smile took the great chair, and then gazed +absently out of the window upon the charming landscape, brilliant with +the glow of the setting sun. Elmer meanwhile went on with his work, and +for a little space neither spoke. Then she said, with a faint trace of +impatience in her voice—</p> + +<p>"What are you doing, Elmer?"</p> + +<p>"Preparing for war."</p> + +<p>"It is useless. It is too late."</p> + +<p>"Think so?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Everything has been settled, and in a very satisfactory +manner—at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> least father is satisfied, and I suppose I ought to be."</p> + +<p>She smiled and held out her hand to him.</p> + +<p>"How can I ever thank you, cousin Elmer? You will not forget me when I +am gone."</p> + +<p>"Forget you, Alma! That was unkind."</p> + +<p>He took her hand, glanced at the diamond ring upon her finger, and +looking down upon her as she lay half reclining in the great chair, he +said, with an effort, as if the words pained him:</p> + +<p>"Alma, you have surrendered to him."</p> + +<p>She looked up with a startled expression, and said:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You have renewed your engagement with Mr. Belford?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—of course I have. He—he is to be my husband——"</p> + +<p>"On Wednesday."</p> + +<p>"Yes. How did you know it?"</p> + +<p>Instead of replying he turned to a drawer and drew forth a long ribbon +of white paper. Holding it to the light, near the window, he began to +read the words printed in dots and lines upon it.</p> + +<p>"Here is your own confession. Here are all the messages you sent me from +the parlor, when you broke your engagement with him——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! Did you save that? Destroy it—destroy it at once. If he +should find it, he would never forgive me."</p> + +<p>"You need not fear. I shall not destroy it, and it shall never cause you +any trouble."</p> + +<p>She had risen in her excitement, and stood upon her feet. Suddenly she +flushed a rosy red, and a strange light shone in her eyes. The sun had +sunk behind the hills, and it had grown dark. As the shadows gathered in +the room a strange, mystic light fell on the wall before her. A +picture—dim, ghostly, gigantic, and surpassingly beautiful—met her +astonished eyes. She gazed at it with a beating heart, awed into +silence by its mystery and its unearthly aspect. What was it? What did +it mean? By what magic art had he conjured up this vision? She stood +with parted lips gazing at it, while her bosom rose and fell with her +rapid, excited breathing. Suddenly she threw her arms above her head, +and with a cry fell back upon the chair.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! My heart——"</p> + +<p>He had been gazing absently out of the window at the fading twilight, +and hearing her cry of pain, he turned hastily and said:</p> + +<p>"Alma, what is it? Are you——"</p> + +<p>He caught sight of the picture on the wall. He understood it at once, +and went to the stereopticon that stood at the other end of the room and +opened it. The lamp was burning brightly, and he put it out and closed +the door. Then he drew out the glass slide, held it a moment to the +light to make sure that it was Alma's portrait, and then he kissed it +passionately, and shivered it into fragments upon the hearthstone.</p> + +<p>She heard the breaking glass, and rose hastily and turned toward him.</p> + +<p>"Elmer, that was cruel. Why did you destroy it?"</p> + +<p>"Because it told too much."</p> + +<p>"It was my picture?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I confess with shame that I stole it when you were asleep under +the influence of the gas I gave you. It happened to be in the lantern +when you came in."</p> + +<p>"And so I saw it pictured on the wall?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. In that way did it betray me. Forget it, Alma. Forget me. Forget +everything. Forget that I ever came here——"</p> + +<p>"No—never. I cannot."</p> + +<p>"You will be married soon and go away. I presume we may never meet +again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer, forgive me. I am the one to be forgiven. I am alone to blame +for all this sorrow. I thought I alone should suffer. But—but, Elmer, +you will not forget me, and you see—you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> must see that what I do is for +the best. It is the only way. I cannot see my father beggared."</p> + +<p>The clear-headed son of science seemed to be losing his self-control. +This was all so new, so exciting, so different from the calm and steady +flow of his student life, that he knew not what to say or do. He began +to turn over his books and papers in a nervous manner, as if trying to +win back control of his own tumultuous thoughts. Fortunately Alma came +to his rescue.</p> + +<p>"Elmer, hear me."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said with an effort. "Tell me about it; then perhaps we can +understand each other better."</p> + +<p>"I will. Come and sit by me. It grows dark, and I—well, it is no +matter. It will do me good to speak of it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do. Sorrow shared is divided by half."</p> + +<p>"And joy shared is doubled," she added. "But we will not talk of 'the +might have been.'"</p> + +<p>Then she paused and looked out on the gathering night for some minutes +in silence. Elmer sat at her feet upon a low stool, and waited till she +should speak.</p> + +<p>"Elmer, say that you will forgive me whatever happens. No matter how +dark it looks for me, forgive me—and—do not forget me. I couldn't bear +that. On Wednesday I am to be married to Mr. Belford. It is the only way +by which I can save my father. There seems no help for it, and I +consented this afternoon. Mr. Belford took up the mortgage, and I am to +be his reward."</p> + +<p>Elmer heard her through in silence, and then he stood up before her, and +his passion broke out in fury upon her.</p> + +<p>"Alma Denny, you are a fool."</p> + +<p>She cowered before him, and covered her face with her hands.</p> + +<p>"Have you no sense? Can you not see the wide pit of deceit that is +spread before you? Do you believe what he says? Will you walk into +perdition to save your father?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Elmer! Elmer! Spare me, spare me, for my father's sake!"</p> + +<p>Her sobs and tears choked her utterance, and she shrank away into the +depths of the chair, in shame and terror, thankful that the darkness hid +her from his view. Still his righteous indignation blazed upon her +hotly.</p> + +<p>"Where have you lived? What have you done, that you should be so +deceived by this man? How can you save your father? If you cannot find +that missing will, of what avail is this withdrawal of the mortgage?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. Oh, Elmer! I am weak, and I have no mother, and father +is——I must save him if I can—at any price."</p> + +<p>"You cannot save him. The devisee who held the will has heirs. They can +still claim the property. Besides, how could Mr. Belford pay off that +mortgage? Depend upon it, a gigantic fraud——"</p> + +<p>"Elmer! Thank God, you have saved——"</p> + +<p>She fainted quietly away, and slid down upon the floor at his feet. He +called two of the maids, and with their help he took her to her room and +placed her upon her own bed. Then, bidding them care for her properly, +he returned to his own room, and the heavy night fell down on the +sorrowful house.</p> + +<p>Far away in the northwest climbed up a ragged mass of sombre clouds. +Afar off the deep voice of the thunder muttered fitfully. The son of +science drew up his curtains and looked out on the coming storm. There +was a solemn hush and calm in the air. Nature seemed resting, and +nerving herself for the warfare of the elements.</p> + +<p>He too had need of calm. He drew a chair to the window, and sitting +astride of it, he rested his arms upon the back, and his chin upon his +folded hands, and for an hour watched the lightning flash from ragged +cloud to ragged cloud, and gave himself to deep and anxious thought. The +thunder grew nearer and nearer. The dark veil of clouds blotted out the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +stars one by one. The roar of the water falling over the dam at the mill +seemed to fill all the air with its murmur. Every leaf and flower hung +motionless.</p> + +<p>He heard the village clock strike nine, with loud, deep notes that +seemed almost at hand. Every nerve of his body seemed strung to electric +tension, and all nature tuned to a higher pitch as if dark and terrible +things were abroad in the night.</p> + +<p>He heard a sound of closing blinds and windows. The servants were +shutting up the house, and preparing it for the storm.</p> + +<p>One of them knocked at his door, and asked if she should come in and +close his windows.</p> + +<p>He opened the door, thanked her, and said he would attend to it himself. +As he closed the door and stepped back into the room, he stood upon +something and there was a little crash. Thinking it might be glass, he +lit a candle and looked for the broken object, whatever it might be.</p> + +<p>It was Alma's engagement ring, broken in twain. It had slipped from her +nerveless finger when they took her to her room. With a gesture of +impatience, he picked up the fragments, and threw them, diamond and all, +out of the window into the garden below.</p> + +<p>Then for another hour he sat alone in the darkness of his room, watchful +and patient. He drew up the curtain toward Alma's room. There was a +light there, and he sat gazing at her white curtain till the light was +extinguished. The other lights were all put out one after the other, and +then it became very still.</p> + +<p>The clock struck ten. The gathering storm climbed higher up the western +sky. The lightning flashed brighter and brighter. There was a sigh in +the tree tops as if the air stirred uneasily.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was another light. Mr. Belford's curtain was brightly +illuminated by his candle. Elmer moved his chair so that he could watch +the window, and waited patiently till the light was put out. Then he saw +the curtain raised and the window drawn down.</p> + +<p>"All right, my boy! That's just what I wanted. Nemesis has a clear road, +and her shadowy sword shall reach you. Now for the closed circuit +alarm."</p> + +<p>He silently pulled off his shoes, and then, with the tread of a cat, he +felt about his room till he found on the table two delicate coils of +fine insulated wire, and a couple of tacks. Carefully opening the door, +he crept down stairs and through the hall to the door of the library. +The door was closed, and kneeling down on the mat he pushed a tack into +the door near the jamb and stuck the other in the door post. From one to +another he stretched a bit of insulated wire. Then, aided by the glare +of the flashes of lightning, that had now grown bright and frequent, he +laid the wires under the mat and along the floor to the foot of the +stairs. Then in his stockinged feet he crept upward, dropping the wires +over into the well of the stairway as he went. In a moment or two the +wires were traced along the floor of the upper entry and under the door +into his room. Here they were secured to a small battery, and connected +with a tiny electric bell that stood on the mantle shelf. To stifle its +sound in case it rang, he threw his straw hat over the bell, and then he +felt sure that at least one part of his work was done.</p> + +<p>Louder and louder rolled the thunder. The lightning flashed brightly and +lit up the bare, mean little room where the wretch cowered and shivered +in the bed, sleepless and fearful he knew not why. He feared the storm +and the night. He feared everything. His guilty heart made terrors out +of the night and nature's healthful workings. The very storm, blessed +harbinger of clearer days and sweeter airs, terrified him.</p> + +<p>There was a sound of rushing wind in the air. A more vivid flash +blinded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> him. He sat up in bed and stopped his coward ears to drown the +splendid roll of the thunder. Another flash seemed to fill the room.</p> + +<p>Ah! What was that? His eyes seemed to start from their sockets in +terror.</p> + +<p>There, written in gigantic letters of fire upon the wall, glowed and +burned a single word:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">FRAUD!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He stared at it and rubbed his eyes. It would not be winked out. There +was a loud crash of thunder and a furious dash of rain against the +window; then another blinding stroke of lightning. He drew the clothing +over his head in abject terror. Again the thunder rolled as if in savage +comment on the writing on the wall.</p> + +<p>It was a mistake, a delusion. He would face the horrid accusation.</p> + +<p>It was gone, and in its place was a picture. It seemed the top of——</p> + +<p>Ah! It was that chimney. Already the false stucco had fallen off, and +there, pictured upon his wall in lines of fire, were the evidences of +his fraud and crime.</p> + +<p>He sprang from the bed with an oath and looked out of the window. +Darkness everywhere. The beating rain on the window pane ran down in +blinding rivulets. A vivid flash of lightning illuminated the garden and +the house. Not a living thing was stirring. He turned toward the bed. +The terrible picture had gone. With a muttered curse upon his weak, +disordered nerves, he crept into bed and tried to sleep.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the terrible writing glowed upon the wall again, and he fairly +screamed with fright and horror:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">MURDER!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>He writhed and turned upon the bed in mortal agony. He stared at the +letters of the awful word with ashen lips and chattering teeth. What +hideous dream was this? Had his reason reeled? Could it play him +phantom tricks like this? Or was it an avenging angel from heaven +writing his crimes upon the black night?</p> + +<p>"Great God! What was that?"</p> + +<p>The writing disappeared, and in its place stood a picture of his +wretched victim and himself. Her fair, innocent face looked down upon +him from the darkness, and he saw his own form beside her.</p> + +<p>He raved with real madness now. Great drops of perspiration gathered on +his face. He dared not face those beautiful eyes so calmly gazing at +him. Where had high Heaven gained such knowledge of him? How could God +punish him with such awful cruelty?</p> + +<p>"Hell and damnation have come," he screamed in frantic terror. The +thunder rolled in deep majesty, and none heard him. The wind and rain +beat upon the house, and his ravings disturbed no one.</p> + +<p>"Take it away! Take it away!" he cried in sheer madness and agony.</p> + +<p>It would not move. The lightning only made the picture more startling +and awful. The sweet and beautiful face of Alice Green lived before him +in frightful distinctness, and his very soul seemed to burn to cinder +before her serene, unearthly presence.</p> + +<p>It was her ghost revisiting the earth. Was it to always thus torment +him?</p> + +<p>"Thank God! It has gone."</p> + +<p>The room became pitch dark, and he fell back upon the pillow in what +seemed to him a bloody sweat. He could not sleep, and for some time he +lay trembling on the bed and trying to collect his senses and decide +whether he was in possession of his reason or not.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a new vision sprang into +existence before him.</p> + +<p>An angel in long white robes seemed to be flying through the air toward +him, and above her head she held a sword. Beneath her feet was the word +"<span class="smcap">Nemesis</span>!" in letters of glowing fire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>The poor wretch rose up in bed, kneeled down upon the mattress, and +facing the gigantic figure that seemed to float in the air above him, +cried aloud in broken gasps.</p> + +<p>"Pardon! For—Christ——"</p> + +<p>He threw up his arms and screamed in delirious terror.</p> + +<p>The angel advanced through the air toward him and grew larger and +taller. She seemed ready to strike him to the ground—and she was gone.</p> + +<p>He fell forward flat on his face, and tears gushed from his eyes in +torrents. For a while he lay thus moaning and crying, and then he rose, +staggered to the wash basin, bathed his face with cold water, and crept +shivering and trembling into bed.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The storm moved slowly away. The lightning grew less frequent, and the +thunder rolled in more subdued tones. The wind subsided, but the rain +fell steadily and drearily. One who watched heard the clock strike +twelve and then one.</p> + +<p>Slowly the laggard hours slipped away in silence. The rain fell in +monotonous showers. The darkness hung like a pall over everything.</p> + +<p>The wretch in his bed tossed in sleepless misery. He hardly dared look +at the blackness of the night, for fear some new vision might affright +him with ghostly warnings. What had he better do? Another night in this +haunted room would drive him insane. Had he not better fly—leave all +and escape out of sight in the hiding darkness? Better abandon the +greater prize, take everything in reach, and fly from scenes so +terrible.</p> + +<p>He rose softly, dressed completely, took a few essentials from his +table, did them up in a bundle, and then like a cat he crept out of the +room, never to return. The house was pitch dark and as silent as a tomb. +He had no need of a light, and, feeling his way along with his hands on +the wall, he stole down stairs and through the hall till he reached the +library door. With cautious fingers he turned the handle in silence and +pushed the door open. It seemed to catch on the threshold, but it was +only for an instant, and then he boldly entered the room.</p> + +<p>Placing his bundle upon the table, he took out a small bunch of keys, +and with his hands outstretched before him he felt for the safe. It was +easily found, and then he put in the key, unlocked the door, and swung +it open. With familiar fingers he pulled out what he knew were mere +bills and documents, and then he found the small tin box in which—</p> + +<p>A blinding glare, an awful flash of overpowering light blazed before +him. His eyes seemed put out by its bewildering intensity, and a little +scream of terror escaped from his lips. A hand seized him by the collar +and dragged him over backward upon the floor. The blazing, burning light +filled all the room with a glare more terrible than the lightning. He +recovered his sight, and saw Nemesis standing above him, revolver in +hand, and with a torch of magnesium wire blazing in horrid flames above +his head.</p> + +<p>"Stir hand or foot, and—you understand. There are six chambers, and I'm +a good shot."</p> + +<p>"Let me up, you fool, or I'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"Oh! You surprise me, Mr. Belford. I thought it was a common robber."</p> + +<p>"No, it is not—so lower your pistol."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. You may rise, but make the slightest resistance, and I'll blow +your brains into muddy fragments. Sit in that chair, and when I've +secured you properly, I'll hear any explanation you may make. Your +conduct is very singular, Mr. Belford, to say the least. That's it. Sit +down in the arm chair. Now I'm going to tie you into it, and on the +slightest sign of resistance I shall fire."</p> + +<p>The poor, cowed creature sank into the chair, and the son of science +placed his strange lamp upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> table. With the revolver still in +hand, he procured a match and lit a candle on the table. Then he +extinguished his torch, and the overpowering light gave place to a more +agreeable gloom. Then he took from his pocket a tiny electric bell and a +little battery made of a small ink bottle. Then he drew forth a small +roll of wire, and securing one end to the battery, with the revolver +still in hand, he walked round the chair three times, and bound the +thief into it with the slender wire.</p> + +<p>"Stop this fooling, boy! Lower your revolver, and let me explain +matters."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. When I have you fast so that you can do no harm, I talk with +you—not before. Hold back your head. That's it. Rest it against the +chair while I draw this wire over your throat."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, stop! Do you intend to garrote me?"</p> + +<p>"No. Only I mean to make you secure."</p> + +<p>"This won't hold me long. I'll break your wires in a flash, you little +fool."</p> + +<p>"No, you will not. The moment the wire is parted that bell will ring, +and I shall begin firing, and keep it up till you are disabled or dead."</p> + +<p>The man swore savagely, but the cold thread of insulated wire over his +throat thrilled his every nerve. It seemed some magic bond, mysterious, +wonderful, and dreadful. This cool man of science was an angel of awful +and incomprehensible power. His lamp of such mystic brilliance and that +battery quite unnerved his coward heart. What awful torture, what +burning flash of lightning might not rend him to blackened fragments if +the wires were broken! To such depths of puerile ignorance and terror +did the wretch sink in his guilty fancy. He dared not move a muscle lest +the wire break. The very thought of it filled him with unspeakable +agony. The son of science placed himself before his prisoner. With the +revolver at easy rest, he said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Belford, I am going to call help. Do not move while I open the +door."</p> + +<p>In mortal terror the wretch turned his head round to see what was going +on. He managed to get a glimpse of the room without breaking the wire +round his throat, and he saw the young man stoop to the floor at the +door and pick up something. Then he made some strange and rapid motions +with the fingers of his right hand, while the left still steadied the +revolver.</p> + +<p>For several minutes nothing happened. The two men glared at each other +in silence, and then there was a sound of opening doors. One closed with +an echoing slam that resounded strangely through the old house, and then +there were light footsteps in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Elmer! What is it? What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing very serious—merely a common burglar. I called you because I +wished help."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard the bell, and I read your message in my room by the sound. +I dressed as quickly as possible. Is there no danger?"</p> + +<p>"No. Stand back. Do not come into the room. Call the men, and let them +wake the gardener and his son. You yourself call your father, and bid +him dress and come down at once. And, Alma, keep cool and do not be +alarmed. I need you, Alma, and you must help me."</p> + +<p>Then the house was very still, and the watcher paced up and down before +his prisoner in silence. There came a hasty opening of doors, and +excited steps and flaring lamps in the hall.</p> + +<p>"'Tis the young doctor. Oh! By mighty! Here's troubles!"</p> + +<p>"Quiet, men! Keep quiet. Come in. He cannot hurt you."</p> + +<p>The three men, shivering and anxious, peered into the room with blanched +faces and chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>"Have you a rope?"</p> + +<p>The calm voice of the speaker reassured them, and all three volunteered +to go for one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. One is enough. And one of you had better go to Mr. Denny's room and +help him down stairs. You, John, may stop with me."</p> + +<p>"Gods! Sir, he will spring at me!"</p> + +<p>"Never you fear. He's fastened into the chair. Besides——"</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir, you've the little pet! That's the kind o' argiment."</p> + +<p>"It is a rather nice weapon—six-shooter—Colt's."</p> + +<p>Presently, with much clatter, the gardener's son brought a rope, and +then, under Mr. Franklin's directions, they bound the man in the chair +hand and foot.</p> + +<p>A moment after they heard Mr. Denny's crutch stalking down the stairs, +and Alma's voice assuring him that there was indeed no danger—no danger +at all.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean, Mr. Franklin?" said the old gentleman as he came +to the door.</p> + +<p>"Burglary, sir. That is all. You need fear nothing. We have secured the +man."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny entered the room leaning on Alma's arm. He saw the open safe +and the papers strewed upon the floor, and he lifted his hand and shook +his head in alarm and trouble.</p> + +<p>"A robbery! Would they ruin me utterly? Where is the villain?"</p> + +<p>"There, sir."</p> + +<p>Alma turned toward the man in the chair, and clung to her father in +terror. The old man lifted his crutch as if to strike.</p> + +<p>"My curse be upon you and yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, father, come away. Leave the poor wretch. Perhaps he has taken +nothing."</p> + +<p>The men gathered round in a circle, and Elmer drew near to Alma. She +felt his presence near her, and involuntarily put out her hand to touch +him.</p> + +<p>"My curse fall on you! Who are you? What have I done to +you—you—viper?"</p> + +<p>The man secured in the chair, and with the wire drawn tightly over his +throat, replied not a word.</p> + +<p>Elmer advanced toward him, and Alma, with a little cry, tried to hinder +him.</p> + +<p>"Do not fear. He cannot move. I will release his head, and perhaps you +will recognize him."</p> + +<p>The wire about his throat was loosened, and the wretch lifted his head +into a more comfortable position.</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Great Heavens! It is Mr. Belford!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said he. "I forgot to put away some papers, and I came down +to secure them, and while I was here that wretch surprised me, +threatened to murder me, and finally overpowered me and bound me here as +you see. If you will ask him to release me, I will get up and explain +everything."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie," screamed Mr. Denny, lifting his crutch. "I don't believe +you—you thief—you robber! It's a lie!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, father!" cried Alma. "Release him—let him go. He will go away +then, and leave us. He has done wrong; but let him go. It must be some +awful mistake—some——"</p> + +<p>"No! Never! never! ne—v——"</p> + +<p>The word died away on his lips, for on the instant there was a loud ring +at the hall door. They all listened in silence. Again the importunate +bell pealed through the echoing house.</p> + +<p>"It is some one in distress," said Elmer. "John, do you take a light and +go to the door. Ask what is wanted before you loose the chain, and tell +them to go away unless it is a case of life or death."</p> + +<p>They listened in breathless interest to the confused sounds in the hall. +There was a moving of locks, and then rough voices talking in suppressed +whispers. The candles flared in the cold draught of wind that swept into +the room, and the sound of the rain in the trees filled the air. Then +the door closed, and John returned, and in an excited whisper said:</p> + +<p>"It's Mr. Jones, the sheriff."</p> + +<p>At this word Mr. Belford struggled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> with his bonds, and in a broken +voice he cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Denny, spare me! Let me not be arrested. I will restore +every——"</p> + +<p>"Silence, sir!" said Elmer. "Not a word till you are spoken to. What +does he want, John?"</p> + +<p>"He says he must see Mr. Denny. It's very important—and, oh, sir, he's +a'most beside himself, and I wouldn't let him in."</p> + +<p>"Call him in at once," said Mr. Denny. "It is a most fortunate arrival. +The very man we want."</p> + +<p>John returned to the hall, and in a moment an old man, gray-haired and +wrinkled, but still vigorous and strong, stood before them. He seemed a +giant in his huge great-coat, and when he removed his hat his massive +head and thick neck seemed almost leonine.</p> + +<p>"Ah! Mr. Sheriff, you have arrived at a most opportune moment. We were +just awakened from our beds by this robber. We captured him, and we have +him here."</p> + +<p>"Beg pardon, sir. Sorry to hear it, but 'twere another errant that +brought me here. The widow Green's daughter, Alice, she that was +missing, has been found in the mill-race—dead."</p> + +<p>They all gave expression to undisguised astonishment, and the prisoner +in the chair groaned heavily.</p> + +<p>"And I have come for the key of the boat house, sir, that we may go for +the—body, sir."</p> + +<p>"How horrible! When did all this happen?"</p> + +<p>"We dunno, sir. I'd like the key ter once."</p> + +<p>"Certainly—certainly, Mr. Sheriff. But this man—cannot you secure him +for the night?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay. But the child, sir. The boys wants your boat to go for her."</p> + +<p>"Poor, poor Alice!" cried Alma, wringing her hands.</p> + +<p>"John," said Elmer, "get the key for Mr. Jones. Jake, you and your +father can go with the men, and, Mr. Jones, perhaps you had better wait +with us, for we have a little matter of importance to settle, and we +need you."</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mr. Franklin, "I have one or two questions I wish to ask the +man, and then, Mr. Jones, you will do us a favor if you will take him +away.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence Belford, as you value your soul, where did you obtain that +will?"</p> + +<p>If a bolt from the storm overhead had entered the room, it could not +have produced a more startling impression than did this simple question. +Mr. Denny dropped his crutch, and raised both hands in astonishment. +Alma gave a half suppressed scream, and even the sheriff and John were +amazed beyond expression.</p> + +<p>The man in the chair made no reply, and presently the breathless silence +was broken by the calm voice of the young man repeating his question.</p> + +<p>"I found it in the leaves of a book in the old bookcase in the mill +office."</p> + +<p>"What?" cried Mr. Denny, leaning forward and steadying himself by the +table. "My father's will! Did you find it? Release him, John. How can we +ever thank you, Mr. Belford? It is the missing will——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lawrence!" said Alma. "Why did you not tell us? why did you not +show it? How much trouble it would have saved."</p> + +<p>"Have patience, Alma. Let Mr. Belford rise and bring the will."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Hear the rest of the story. Mr. Belford, you +destroyed or suppressed that will, did you not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did—damn you!"</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" cried the sheriff. "Did ye hear that?—destroyed it! That's +State's prison."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Franklin, Mr. Denny! have mercy on me! Do not let them arrest +me."</p> + +<p>The poor creature seemed to be utterly cowed and crushed in an instant.</p> + +<p>"Marcy!" said the sheriff, taking out a pair of handcuffs. "It's little +marcy ye'll git."</p> + +<p>"You ask for mercy!" cried Mr. Denny, his face livid with passion. +"You—you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> wretch! Have you not ruined me? Have you not made my child a +beggar, and carried my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave? You knew the +value of this will—and you destroyed it! Your other crimes are as +nothing to this. I could forgive your monstrous frauds in my mills——"</p> + +<p>Mr. Belford winced and looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Ay! wince you may. I have found out everything, thanks to—but I'll not +couple his name with yours. And the release of the mortgage—have you +that?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. It is in that bag on the table."</p> + +<p>The old gentleman eagerly took up the bundle that lay on the table, and +began with trembling fingers to open it.</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, Mr. Denny," said Mr. Franklin. "I should like to ask +this man a question or two."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny paused, and there was a profound silence in the room.</p> + +<p>"Lawrence Belford, if you are wise, you will speak the truth. That +release is a forgery—or at least it has no legal value."</p> + +<p>"It is not worth a straw," replied the prisoner with cool impudence; +"and on the whole, I'm glad of it. The mortgage will be foreclosed +to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Your share will be small, Mr. Belford. I am afraid your partner will +find some difficulty in making a settlement with you, unless he joins +you in prison."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denny sat heavily down in an arm-chair and groaned aloud. In vain +Alma, with choking voice, tried to comfort him. The blow was too +terrible for words, and for a moment or two there was a painful silence +in the room.</p> + +<p>Mr. Franklin seemed nervous and excited. He fumbled in his pockets as if +in search of something. Presently he advanced toward the old gentleman +and said quietly:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Denny, can you bear one more piece of news—one more link in this +terrible chain of crime?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied slowly. "There can be nothing worse than this. Speak, +my son—let us hear everything."</p> + +<p>"I think, sir," said the young man reverently, "that I ought to thank +God that He has enabled me to bring such knowledge as He has given me to +your service."</p> + +<p>Then after a brief pause he added:</p> + +<p>"There is the will, sir."</p> + +<p>With these words he held out a small bit of sheet glass about two inches +square.</p> + +<p>"Where?" cried Mr. Denny in amazement. "I see nothing."</p> + +<p>"There it is—on that piece of glass. That dusky spot in the centre is a +micro-photographic copy of your father's will."</p> + +<p>"My son, my son, do not trifle with us in this our hour of trial."</p> + +<p>"Far be it from me to do such a thing. Alma, will you please go to my +room and bring down my lantern? And John, you may go and help Miss +Denny. Bring a sheet from the spare bed also."</p> + +<p>"I do not know what you mean, my son. You tell me the will is destroyed, +and you say you have a copy. Is it a legal copy? and how do you know it +is really my father's will? Have you read it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. You shall read it too presently. I have already shown it to a +lawyer, and he pronounced it correct and perfectly legal."</p> + +<p>"But why did you not tell us of it before?"</p> + +<p>"I have only had it a few days, sir, and I wished first to crush or +capture this robber."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't ye better let me take him off, sir?" said the sheriff. "He's +done enough to take him afore the grand jury. Besides, we have another +bitter bill against him down in the village."</p> + +<p>"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Let him stay and see the will. It may interest +him to know that all his villainous plans are utterly overthrown."</p> + +<p>"Shut up, you whelp," said the man in the chair.</p> + +<p>"Shut up—ye," replied the sheriff, administering a stout cuff to the +prisoner's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> ear. "Ye best hold your tongue, man."</p> + +<p>Just here Alma and John returned with the lantern. Under Elmer's +directions they hung the sheet over one of the windows, and then the +young man prepared his apparatus for a small trial of lantern +projections. Mr. Denny sat in his chair silent and wondering. He knew +not what to say or do, and watched these preparations with the utmost +attention.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sheriff, if you please, you will stand near Mr. Belford, to prevent +him from attempting mischief when I darken the room. John, you may put +out all the candles save one."</p> + +<p>Alma took her father's hand and kneeled upon the floor beside him as if +to aid and comfort him.</p> + +<p>"Now, John, set that candle just outside the door in the entry."</p> + +<p>A sense of awe and fear fell on them all as the room became dark, and +none save the young son of science dared breathe. Suddenly a round spot +of light fell on the sheet, and its glare illuminated the room dimly.</p> + +<p>"Before I show the will, Mr. Sheriff, I wish you to see a photo that may +be of use to you in that little matter in the village of which you were +speaking."</p> + +<p>Two dusky figures slid over the disk of light. They grew more and more +distinct.</p> + +<p>"Great God! It's Alice Green!"</p> + +<p>A passion of weeping filled the room, and Elmer opened the lantern, and +the room became light. Alma, with her head bent upon her father's knee, +was bathed in tears.</p> + +<p>"Poor, poor lost Alice!"</p> + +<p>"And the fellow with her? Who is he?" cried the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"That is Mr. Belford—Mr. Lawrence Belford," said Elmer with cool +confidence. "That picture was taken through a telescope from my room on +the morning of the 13th."</p> + +<p>"The 13th! Why, man, that was the day she was missed."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Mr. Belford was with her that day, and perhaps he can explain her +disappearance."</p> + +<p>The prisoner groaned in abject terror and misery. He saw it all now. His +dream pictures were explained. His defeat and detection were +accomplished through the young man's science. That he should have been +overthrown by such simple means filled him with mortification and anger.</p> + +<p>"You shall have the picture, Mr. Sheriff. You may need it at the trial. +And now for the will."</p> + +<p>The room became again dark, and the figures on the wall stood out sharp +and distinct on the sheet. Then the picture faded away, and in its place +appeared writing—letters in black upon white ground:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Salmon Falls</span>, June 1, 1863.</p> + +<p>"I, Edward Denny, do hereby leave and bequeath to my son, John Denny, +all of my property, both real and personal. All other wills I have made +are hereby annulled. My near death prevents a more formal will.</p> + +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Edward Denny</span>.<br /><br /> + +"Witness:<br /><br /> + +"<span class="smcap">John Maxwell</span>, M.D."</p></div> + +<p>"My father's will. Thank——"</p> + +<p>There was a heavy fall, and Elmer opened his lantern quickly. It was too +much for the old man. He had fallen upon the floor insensible.</p> + +<p>"A light, John, quick."</p> + +<p>They lifted him tenderly, and with Alma's help the old sheriff and the +serving man took him away to his room.</p> + +<p>The moment the two men were alone, the prisoner in the chair broke out +in a torrent of curses and threats. The young man quietly took up his +revolver, and said sternly:</p> + +<p>"Lawrence Belford, hold your peace. Your threats are idle. You insulted +me outrageously the day I came here. I bear you no malice, but when you +attempted your infamous plan to capture my cousin and to ruin her +father, I sprang to their rescue with such skill as I could command. We +shall not pursue you with undue rigor, but with perfect justice——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Franklin, have mercy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> upon me! Let me go! Let me escape before +they return. I will go away—far away! Save me, save me, sir! I never +harmed you. Have mercy upon me!"</p> + +<p>"Had you shown mercy perhaps I might now. No, sir; justice before mercy. +Hark—the officer comes."</p> + +<p>They unfastened the ropes about Belford, and released the wires, and in +silence he went away into the night, a broken-down, crushed, and ruined +man in the hands of his grisly Nemesis.</p> + +<p>The young man flung himself upon the lounge in the library, and in a +moment was fast asleep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The red gold of the coming day crept up the eastern sky. The storm +became beautiful in its fleecy rains in the far south. As the stars +paled, the sweet breath of the cool west wind sprang up, shaking the +raindrops in showers from the trees. The birds sang and the day came on +apace.</p> + +<p>To one who watched it seemed the coming of a fairer day than had ever +shone upon her life. The vanished storm, the fresh aspect of nature +moved her to tears of happiness. Long had she watched the stars. They +were the first signs of light and comfort she had discovered, and now +they paled before the sun. Thus she sat by the open window in the +library and watched with a prayer in her heart.</p> + +<p>She looked at the mantel clock. Half past four. In half an hour the +house would be stirring. All was now safe. She could return to her room. +She rose and approached the sleeper on the lounge. He slept peacefully, +as if the events of the night disturbed him not.</p> + +<p>He smiled in his dreams, and murmured a name indistinctly. She drew back +hastily and put her hand over her mouth, while a bright blush mounted to +her face. Just here, through the sweet, still air of the morning, came +the sound of the village bell. Tears gathered in her eyes and fell +unheeded upon her hands, clasped before her.</p> + +<p>"Poor—lost—Alice—nineteen—just my——"</p> + +<p>"Alma."</p> + +<p>She turned toward the sleeper with a startled cry. He was awake and +sitting up.</p> + +<p>"What bell is that?"</p> + +<p>"It is tolling. They have found her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a sad story. Alma?"</p> + +<p>She advanced toward him. He noticed her tears and the morning robe in +which she was dressed.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Elmer? Do you feel better?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It was a sorry night for us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the storm has cleared away."</p> + +<p>He did not seem to heed what she said.</p> + +<p>"How long have you been up?"</p> + +<p>"Since it happened. After I saw father up stairs, I came down and found +you here asleep. And Elmer—forgive me—it was wrong, but I did not mean +to stay here so long——"</p> + +<p>"Alma!"</p> + +<p>"You will pardon me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! Pardon you—pardon you—why should I? I dreamed the angels watched +me."</p> + +<p>"I was anxious, and we owe you so much. We can never reward you—never!"</p> + +<p>"Reward, Alma! I want none—save——"</p> + +<p>"Save what?"</p> + +<p>He opened his arms wide. A new and beautiful light came into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Can there be greater reward than love?"</p> + +<p>"No. Love is the best reward—and it is yours."</p> + +<p> class="right"<span class="smcap">Charles Barnard</span>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_MURDER_OF_MARGARY" id="THE_MURDER_OF_MARGARY"></a>THE MURDER OF MARGARY.</h2> + + +<p>Our own politics have so absorbed the attention of the press and the +public for the last six months, that events of decided international +prominence have attracted merely a brief notice, instead of the careful +discussion which their importance warranted. Even the "Eastern +question," that has so long kept the European world in a state of +excitement and anxiety almost as intense and even more painful than that +in which our own country is now plunged, excited but a fitful interest +here. It was only by an effort that we could extend our political +horizon as far east as Constantinople. All beyond was comparative +darkness. In this darkness, however, history has gone steadily on +accumulating new and important data, which must be taken note of if we +would keep up with the record of the times.</p> + +<p>The term "Eastern question" has come to mean the political complications +arising from the presence of the Turkish empire in Europe. The +expression might much more appropriately be applied to the serious +difficulties that have for the last year and a half existed between the +governments of England and China, and which have, as it now appears, +been brought to a reasonably satisfactory conclusion. These difficulties +sprang out of the murder of an English subject, Augustus Raymond Margary +by name, who was travelling in an official capacity in a remote part of +the Chinese empire. They were still further complicated by an almost +simultaneous attack upon a British exploring expedition that had just +crossed the Chinese frontier from Burmah, with the intention of +surveying and opening up to trade an overland route between that country +and the Middle Kingdom. To understand the matter it will be necessary to +give a brief recapitulation of some events that went before.</p> + +<p>The vast importance of establishing an overland trade route between +India and China will be seen by a glance at the map. It has been the +unrealized dream of generations of India and China merchants. "The trade +route of the future" it has been called; and when we consider the vast +marts of commerce that such a highway would bring in direct contact, it +is impossible to think the name thus enthusiastically given an +exaggeration. An overland passage between China and Burmah has long been +known and made use of by the native merchants of these countries. From +time immemorial it has served as a highway for invading armies or +peaceful caravans. How highly the two governments appreciated its +importance to the commercial prosperity of their respective subjects is +shown by the clause in a treaty concluded by them in 1769, which +stipulated that the "gold and silver road" between the two countries +should always be kept open. European travellers in Eastern lands, from +the ubiquitous Marco Polo down, have also done their best to call +attention to it. It may therefore seem somewhat strange that England, +the commercial interest of whose Indian empire would be most directly +promoted by the opening up of this new channel of trade, should have +gone so long without paying much official attention to the matter. +Recent events, however, have proved, what was probably foreseen by those +whose business it was to study up the subject, that there were grave +practical difficulties to be overcome before the plan could be +successfully carried out.</p> + +<p>In the first place it was necessary to secure the consent of both the +Burmese and Chinese governments—a task of almost insurmountable +difficulty because of the natural dislike of these two powers to share +with another the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> trade monopoly they had heretofore exclusively +enjoyed. Then again there lies between the civilizations of India and +China a broad tract of wild and mountainous country, inhabited by a +mongrel race of savages, known as Shans and Kakhyens, who, while +nominally owing allegiance to one or the other of their more civilized +neighbors, practically find their chief support in levying blackmail on +all people passing through their territory.</p> + +<p>To fit out an exploring expedition strong enough to defy the attacks of +the savages, and yet small enough not to convey the idea of an invasion, +was, therefore, a work requiring much patience and diplomacy. At length, +however, in 1867, the British Government in India succeeded in gaining +the consent of the King of Burmah to the passage through his dominions +of a mission combining the necessary strength and limits. Under the +command of Major Slade, this little army made its way safely through the +debatable land of the Kakhyens and Shans, and, entering the province of +Yunnan, penetrated as far into the Chinese empire as the city of Momien. +But here its further progress was checked.</p> + +<p>Yunnan was at the moment in the very crisis of a rebellion against the +imperial government. The population of the province is largely +Mohammedan. How the religion of the Prophet first obtained so firm a +foothold there is still for antiquaries to discover. A semi-historical +legend says that the germs of the faith were planted by a colony of +Arabs who settled in the country more than a thousand years ago. However +this may be, it is certain that the first Mohammedans were not Chinese. +By intermarriage, propagation, and adoption, they slowly but steadily +communicated their belief to the original inhabitants, until, at the +time of which we are writing, more than a tenth of the ten million +inhabitants were fanatical Mussulmans. To the mixed race that embrace +this creed the general name of Panthays has been given, though for what +reason is not known.</p> + +<p>In 1855 the Panthays, oppressed, it is said, by the Chinese officials, +rose up in rebellion against the imperial government. Led by an obscure +Chinese follower of Mohammed, called Tu-win-tsen, the insurrection grew +rapidly in extent and success. One imperial city after the other fell +into the hands of the rebels, until the entire western section of the +province was in their possession and organized as a separate and +independent nation, under the sovereignty of Tu-win-tsen, who had in the +mean while assumed the more euphonious title of Sultan Soleiman.</p> + +<p>It was when Soleiman had attained the height of his glory that Major +Slade's party entered Yunnan, and it was with him as the governor <i>de +facto</i> that the British commander entered into negotiations. Such a +proceeding, though it may have been necessary, was fatal to the further +progress of the expedition. The Chinese authorities naturally refused to +pass on a party that had, however innocently, entered into friendly +relations with its rebellious subjects. Major Slade had the good sense +to understand this. The mission retraced its steps into Burmah, and the +exploration of the "trade route of the future" was indefinitely +postponed.</p> + +<p>The visit of the English party to Momien was the signal for a rapid +downfall of Soleiman's power. The imperial government, seriously alarmed +at the practical recognition of the rebels' independence by an outside +power, now put forth all its might to reëstablish its authority. It was +successful.</p> + +<p>Under the energetic command of one Li-sieh-tai, a famous general who had +once himself been a rebel, the Chinese armies wrested back the country, +foot by foot, to its former governors. In 1872 Tali-fu, the last and +most important stronghold of the rebellion, was closely invested. After +a desperate resistance, it was obliged to open its gates.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>The end of Soleiman was dramatic in the extreme. He was told that his +followers should be spared if he himself would surrender. He agreed to +the terms, and, after administering a dose of poison to himself, his +three wives and five children, he mounted his chair, and was borne to +the camp of his enemies, where he arrived a corpse sitting erect, the +imperial turban on his head and the keys of his capital clasped tightly +in his hand. His head, preserved in honey, was sent to Peking. The +imperial troops poured into Tali-fu. A general massacre occurred. Those +Mohammedans that were not slaughtered fled to the mountains, where they +still continued to keep up a guerilla warfare. But the rebellion was +practically at an end, and by 1874 the authority of the central +government was firmly established throughout the province.</p> + +<p>The trade between Burmah and China, which had ceased almost entirely +during the long years of the rebellion, again sprang into activity, and +once more the attention of the Indian government was attracted to it. In +1874 a new expedition of exploration was prepared and placed under the +command of Colonel Browne. The consent of the King of Burmah was +obtained, and the British minister in Peking, Mr. Thomas Wade, was +instructed to explain the object of the mission to the Chinese +government, so that it might receive no opposition upon crossing the +Chinese frontier. It was also arranged that a special messenger should +be despatched from Peking across China to the frontier to act as +interpreter to the expedition, and to prepare the mandarins along the +route for its approach. For this responsible and dangerous service, +Augustus Raymond Margary was selected—a young man attached to the +English consular department, a perfect master of the Chinese language +and customs, and a fine type of the best class of young Englishmen.</p> + +<p>Provided with the necessary passports from the British minister, +countersigned by the Tsung-li-yamen, the Chinese foreign office, Mr. +Margary started on his journey. He went up the Yangtsze river as far as +Hankow in one of the huge American steamers of the Shanghai Steam +Navigation Company. At Hankow, on September 4, 1874, he bade good-by to +Western civilization, and, with a Chinese teacher and two or three +Chinese attendants, began his trip through a vast and populous country, +a <i>terra incognita</i> to Europeans.</p> + +<p>His diary of this journey has recently been published. It is interesting +in the extreme, though devoid of those startling episodes that generally +give charm to accounts of travels in unexplored lands.</p> + +<p>He has no old theories to prove and no ambition to start new ones, but +simply jots down his impressions of people and things with no attempt at +elaboration. The result is, we have a plain, faithful, unvarnished +picture of Chinese life and manners, as seen by an intelligent, +unprejudiced man. Upon the whole, we think this picture most decidedly +favorable to the Chinese character.</p> + +<p>Did space permit, we should like to follow Mr. Margary, stage by stage, +through his long journey of 900 miles. The first part, through the +provinces of Yunnan and Kwei-chow as far as the city of Ch'en-yuan-fu, +was made by boat—a long and monotonous trip of four weeks, through a +country so picturesque that the "sight was at last completely satiated +with the perpetual view of the most glorious scenery that ever made the +human heart leap with wonder and delight."</p> + +<p>At Ch'en-yuan-fu he exchanged his boat for a chair, in which he +completed his journey; traversing Kwei-chow and Yunnan, and the +debatable hill land that lies between the latter province and Burmah; +arriving in Bhamo, on the Burmese side of the border, on January 17, +1875, where he joined the expedition of Colonel Browne that was +advancing to meet him.</p> + +<p>Except in two or three instances, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> was treated with courtesy by the +people and respect by the officials. In the exceptional cases a display +of his Chinese passports sufficed to quickly change the demeanor of the +mandarins; while a few calm words of rebuke upon their want of +politeness generally caused popular mobs to disperse abashed. An +instance of this is given by him in his account of his stay at Lo-shan, +a small naval station on the Yangtsze. In returning from a visit to the +mandarin of the place, he was surrounded by a dense crowd of street +rabble, leaping and screaming like maniacs, and shouting to one another: +"I say! Come along. Here's a foreigner. What a lark! Ha, ha, ha!" +Margary descended from his chair and delivered a short address:</p> + +<p>"Why <i>do</i> you crowd round me in this rude manner? Is this your courtesy +to strangers? I have often heard it said that China was of all things +distinguished for civility and courtesy. But am I to take this as a +specimen of it? Shall I go back and tell my countrymen that your boasted +civility only amounts to rudeness?" "I was astonished," he adds, "at the +effect this speech produced. They listened with silence, and when I had +done walked quietly back quite abashed. Only a few remained; and over +and again after this many an irrepressible youngster was severely +rebuked for any sign of disrespect by his elders."</p> + +<p>Contrast this with the effect which such a speech as that of Margary's, +delivered by a Chinaman, would have had upon an English or American mob, +and we cannot repress a slight feeling of sympathy with the natives of +the Flowery Kingdom when they call us "outside barbarians."</p> + +<p>His Chinese letters of recommendation, given him by the Tsung-li-yamen +to the viceroys of the three great provinces through which he passed, +proved of inestimable value. In the viceroy of Yunnan especially he +found an unexpected ally and friend, who issued instructions to the +officials all along the road to receive the foreigner with the utmost +respect. The extent to which these instructions were carried out +depended, of course, very largely on the temperament of the local +mandarins. "Some were obsequious, others reserved, but most of them met +me with high bred courtesy worthy of praise, and such as befits a +welcome from man to man."</p> + +<p>"Taking all these experiences together," says Sir Rutherford Alcock, +formerly British minister to China, a gentleman by no means inclined to +judge Chinese officials favorably, "the impression left is decidedly to +the advantage of the central government so far as the <i>bona fides</i> of +the safe-conduct given is concerned."</p> + +<p>A great deal of Margary's success was also undoubtedly due to his +personal magnetism and thorough acquaintance with Chinese habits. +Indeed, no one can read this diary without deriving from it a high idea +of the genuine attractiveness and solidity of the author's character. In +sickness, in trouble, in delay, in vexation, there runs through it all a +refreshing, manly, Anglo-Saxon spirit. Knowing as we do what is coming, +we find ourselves involuntarily catching with hope at little incidents +that seem to delay onward march. Reading these pages, it is impossible +to realize that he who wrote them is dead. It is with a mournful feeling +of utter and fatalistic helplessness that we follow this young and +generous hero while he travels, all unconsciously, down to his death. To +the very last all seems to go well with him. At Manwyne, the last city +on his journey, the renowned and dreaded Li-sieh-tai, the suppressor of +the Mohammedan rebellion, actually prostrated himself before him and +paid him the highest honors, warning the assembled chiefs of the savage +hill people that they had best take good care of the stranger, as he +came protected by an imperial passport.</p> + +<p>On the 16th of February, 1875, Colonel Browne's expedition, accompanied +by Margary, broke up their camp at Tsitkaw, in Burmah, and advanced +toward the Chinese frontier.</p> + +<p>Arrangements had been made with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> the practically independent chieftains +of this wild region for the safe passage of the party through the hilly +country. As it advanced, however, ominous rumors of a projected attack +by the hill savages and Chinese frontiersmen reached the ears of its +members. Though these rumors were generally discredited, it was thought +best to send forward Margary as a pioneer, he being well known to the +people and officials of the Chinese border town of Manwyne. Margary +willingly undertook the mission. With his Chinese teacher and +attendants, he hastened on in advance, the rest of the expedition +following more slowly. The last communications that came from him were +dated "Seray," a town just inside the Chinese frontier. He reported that +thus far the road was unmolested and the people civil. On the strength +of these advices, Colonel Browne pressed on, crossed the Chinese +frontier, and advanced as far as Seray. It was here, on the morning of +February 21, that Margary and his attendants had all been murdered, near +Manwyne.</p> + +<p>Hardly had the news been communicated when it was found that the +expedition was surrounded by a large body of armed men, who instantly +began an attack. The assailants, a motley crowd of Kakhyens and Chinese +border men, were soon repulsed; but as reports came streaming in that +large bodies of Chinese train bands were advancing to their aid, it was +thought best to beat a retreat. This was safely effected, and by the +26th of February the expedition found itself once more at Bhamo. Thus +mournfully ended the second attempt to explore "the trade route of the +future."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The mere fact that a British subject had been murdered, and a British +exploring expedition attacked on Chinese soil, would in itself have +created a grave subject for diplomatic discussion between the +governments of England and China. But the matter was rendered doubly +serious by the presence of many circumstances tending to show that the +outrage had been committed with the tacit connivance, if not at the +direct instigation, of the provincial authorities of Yunnan. The whole +affair, it was claimed, was not the result of an outbreak of +booty-seeking savages, but the culmination of a systematic plot on the +part of the Chinese officials.</p> + +<p>In laying the matter before Prince Kung, Mr. Wade, the English minister, +plainly implied that such was his opinion, and demanded from the Chinese +government the promptest and most searching investigation.</p> + +<p>An imperial decree was at once issued, commanding the governor of Yunnan +to proceed at once to the spot and enter upon a thorough examination of +the case. Mr. Wade, however, demanded some securer guarantee that strict +justice should be done. He submitted to the Tsung-li-yamen an ultimatum +containing three principal conditions: that such British officials as he +might see fit to appoint should go to Yunnan and assist at the +investigation; that passports should be immediately issued, to enable +another expedition to enter Yunnan by the same route; and that a sum of +$150,000 be placed in his hands as a guarantee of good faith. The +Chinese government demurred at first to these demands, but the threat of +Mr. Wade to leave Peking unless they were accepted before a certain day +finally caused it to give a reluctant consent. Some months were then +spent in diplomatic wrangling over the conditions under which the +British officials should proceed to Yunnan, and what their powers should +be on their arrival there. The Chinese government showed, in the opinion +of Mr. Wade, a strong desire to avoid fulfilling its part of the +contract. The negotiations on several occasions assumed an acute +character of danger. Both parties prepared for war. The English minister +concentrated the English fleet in the China seas; the Chinese government +bought up large supplies of arms and ammunition. But Prince Kung and his +advisers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> had the good sense to see that the chances in a struggle of +arms would be too unequal, and always submitted at the last moment. At +last the Chinese government, having agreed to all the preliminary +conditions, and having also despatched a high officer, Li-hang-chang, to +Yunnan to thoroughly investigate the affair, "without regard to +persons," the British minister agreed to let the English mission of +investigation proceed. Mr. Grosvenor, a secretary of legation, was +placed at its head. Li-hang-chang went on in advance.</p> + +<p>This high official seems to have done his duty in a spirit of strict +impartiality. His reports to the government make no attempt to conceal +the guilt of the provincial officials, or to shield them from deserved +punishment. He immediately ordered the arrest of the general commanding +at Momien and a number of other local officers, pushing his inquiries +with vigor and with what appears a sincere desire to arrive at the +ground facts. In the course of his labors he came to the conclusion that +Li-sieh-tai, whom we have already mentioned, was one of the instigators, +probably the chief one, of the attack on the mission. He at once +memorialized the throne to have him arrested and brought up for trial. +In this memorial he gives what seems to us, upon an unprejudiced +comparison of testimony, the truest version of the affair. He believes +the murder of Margary and his attendants to have been the work of +"lawless offenders," greedy of gain, but that the attack upon Colonel +Browne's party was made at the secret instigation of Li-sieh-tai and +other provincial officials, although that general was not on the spot, +nor were there any soldiers concerned in the assault. He shows that +Li-sieh-tai had already written to the governor of Yunnan, telling him +that he (Li) was "taking vigorous measures to protect the region against +invasion," and that the governor had written back commanding him to stop +all further proceedings and quiet the apprehensions of the people. This +command, however, was not received until after the murder and attack had +taken place. "It appears from this, consequently" (the report adds), +"that although Li-sieh-tai had no intention of committing murder, he is +liable to a charge of having laid plans to obstruct the expedition; and +your servants have agreed, after taking counsel together, that he should +not be suffered to take advantage of his official rank as a cover for +lying evasions, gaining time with false statements, in dread of +incurring punishment."</p> + +<p>Immediately upon receipt of this memorial a decree appeared in the +Peking "Gazette" ordering Li-sieh-tai to be degraded from his rank, and +commanding him to proceed at once to Yunnan for trial before the high +commission.</p> + +<p>As we have said before, we think Li-hang-chang's account is +substantially correct. There are a great many circumstances tending to +exculpate Li-sieh-tai from any wish to have Margary murdered. Had such +been his wish, he might more easily have disposed of him when he passed +through <i>en route</i> for Burmah. Moreover, at the very time of Margary's +murder, Mr. Elias, a member of the expedition, who had struck off from +the main body in order to explore another route to Momien, was +entertained by Li-sieh-tai at Muangnow, a town at some distance from the +seat of the murder. Though completely in his power, Mr. Elias received +all possible civility compatible with a determined and successful +opposition to his further advance. Now it seems absurd to believe that +Li-sieh-tai felt any stronger personal dislike for Margary than he felt +for Mr. Elias.</p> + +<p>In regard to his complicity in the attack on the expedition, the +evidence is just as strong on the other side. He had a deep and by no +means unnatural prejudice against English exploring parties. The last +mission of the kind had entered into negotiations, as we have already +mentioned, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> enemies against whom this Chinese general was +prosecuting bitter war. The smouldering embers of the rebellion were not +even yet entirely extinguished; the presence of an armed body of +foreigners, no matter how small, who had previously shown a friendly +disposition toward the Mohammedan usurpation, might awaken new hopes in +the breasts of the still surviving rebels. This feeling, combined with +the jealous wish of the border merchants, both Chinese and Burmese, to +retain a monopoly of the overland trade, undoubtedly inspired a general +feeling of hostility among the local officials and the people, which +found a ready instrument in the greedy and savage character of the +frontier tribes. Where so much combustible matter was heaped up, it +needed but a hint to bring on the catastrophe that followed.</p> + +<p>While Li-hang-chang and the Chinese commission were conducting the +preliminary investigations, Mr. Grosvenor and his colleagues were +approaching. Their journey across the empire was attended not only with +no opposition or difficulty, but they were received everywhere with +great and even obsequious respect. Upon arriving in Yunnan they found an +immense pile of evidence awaiting their inspection. Mr. Grosvenor's +report has not yet been published, we believe, but from general rumor, +and the fact that nothing has been heard to the contrary, we are +justified in believing that he found the state of the case to be +substantially as it was reported by the Chinese high commissioner. After +having reviewed the evidence presented, after having witnessed the +execution of a number of wretches convicted of direct complicity in the +murder of Margary, the Grosvenor commission pursued its way, escorted by +troops that had been despatched from Burmah for the purpose.</p> + +<p>Diplomatic negotiations were once more transferred to Peking, and turned +upon the compensation to be offered by China for the violation of +international law that had occurred upon her soil. The demands of the +British minister, who had in the mean time been knighted as Sir Thomas +Wade by the Queen, as a just acknowledgment of his efficient services, +were considered too severe by the Chinese government, and at one time it +looked as if all further negotiations would be broken off.</p> + +<p>Sir Thomas finally carried his threat to leave Peking into execution. +Prince Kung had evidently not expected so decided a step, and was +seriously alarmed by it, for the Chinese government have shown +throughout the affair a very wise disposition not to push matters to the +last extreme. Li-wang-chang (a brother, we believe, of the official who +was sent to Yunnan), the governor of the province of Chihli, the highest +and most powerful statesman in the country, was immediately granted +extraordinary powers, and sent after the English minister. After some +diplomatic fencing Sir Thomas agreed to meet the Chinese envoy at +Chefoo—a seaport about half way between Shanghai and Peking, a great +summer resort of the foreigners in China—the Newport of the eastern +world. Here, in the month of September, 1876, with much surrounding pomp +and ceremony, a convention was signed between the English and the +Chinese plenipotentiaries. The final settlement of the difficulty was +celebrated by a grand banquet, given by Li-wang-chang to Sir Thomas and +the other foreign ambassadors, who had been drawn to Chefoo by their +interest in the negotiations.</p> + +<p>The following is a synopsis of the agreement:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>1. An imperial edict to be published throughout the Chinese +empire, setting forth the facts of the affair, subject to the +directions and approval of the British minister.</p> + +<p>2. Consular officials to visit the various towns and public +places to see that the said imperial edict is posted where all +can see it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> + +<p>3. The family of Margary to be paid about $250,000 indemnity.</p> + +<p>4. A further indemnity to be given, covering all expenses of +the unsuccessful expedition under Colonel Browne.</p> + +<p>5. A special embassy of apology to be sent to England.</p></div> + +<p>Then follow a number of concessions with regard to placing on a better +footing the relations of foreign ambassadors to the Chinese authorities, +the enlargement of the foreign settlement at Shanghai, etc.</p> + +<p>But by far the most important clause is that opening up to foreign trade +four new ports on the Yangtsze river. This concession is virtually +equivalent to throwing open the whole interior of the country to foreign +merchants.</p> + +<p>Altogether the British minister has certainly won a triumph that well +deserved a knighthood.</p> + +<p>Undoubtedly he had a very strong indictment against the Chinese +authorities, although we cannot help regarding the matter of the murder +and the attack as more the misfortune than the fault of the central +government. Nevertheless, western nations are fully justified in rigidly +holding the Peking authorities responsible for any violation of +international duties committed anywhere within their jurisdiction; and +it is not only fair, but expedient, that when such cases do occur some +practical and important reparation should be made for them. The +concessions obtained by Sir Thomas Wade, though sweeping, are not, in +our opinion, excessive. On the other hand, the Chinese government by +granting them has fully satisfied the demands of justice. It could not +have gone further without losing the respect and incurring the dangerous +opposition of its people. Indeed, throughout the negotiations Prince +Kung and his advisers have had to contend against a powerful +anti-foreign party in the court and the nation. Strong fears were +entertained more than once that the reactionary element would get the +upper hand. Some idea of Prince Kung's difficulties may be conceived +when we read that one morning the walls of Peking were found covered +with placards bitterly denouncing the policy of the government, and +calling upon all good subjects to rise up against such unpatriotic +leaders.</p> + +<p>When Li-wang-chang, who enjoys great popularity in his province, was en +route for Chefoo to negotiate with Sir Thomas Wade, the people of +Tien-tsin made the most determined efforts to prevent him from going +further. For a time he was literally besieged in his own <i>yamen</i>, and it +was only by the publication of a proclamation warning the people that +they were guilty of rebellion against the emperor when they hindered the +progress of his representatives, that the opposition was withdrawn.</p> + +<p>Sir Thomas deserves the highest praise for going just far enough and no +further in his demands. Yet the last mail from China brings the news +that the foreign residents there are intensely dissatisfied with the +result of the settlement. This was to be expected. Any settlement short +of one effected by war would have met the disapproval of these gentry. +The interests of the Chinese and the foreign merchants are too +antagonistic to admit of impartial judgment on questions of this sort. +England, in their opinion, could gain greater concessions by war than by +negotiations—ergo, they would have all such troubles settled by "blood +and iron."</p> + +<p>The London "Times" puts it very well when it says:</p> + +<p>"Those Englishmen who reside in the treaty ports are not impartial +judges of the concessions. Too often they go to Canton or Shanghai in a +frame of mind that would exasperate a much less vain people than the +Chinese. They sometimes talk as if they thought it a mere impertinence +on the part of an inferior race to have a pride of its own, and they act +as if the chief end of the Chinese were to minister to the demands of +British trade."</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Walter A. Burlingame.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_LETTERS_OF_HONORE_DE_BALZAC" id="THE_LETTERS_OF_HONORE_DE_BALZAC"></a>THE LETTERS OF HONORÉ DE BALZAC.</h2> + + +<p>The first feeling of the reader of the two volumes which have lately +been published under the foregoing title is that he has almost done +wrong to read them. He reproaches himself with having taken a shabby +advantage of a person who is unable to defend himself. He feels as one +who has broken open a cabinet or rummaged an old desk. The contents of +Balzac's letters are so private, so personal, so exclusively his own +affairs and those of no one else, that the generous critic constantly +lays them down with a sort of dismay, and asks himself in virtue of what +peculiar privilege, or what newly discovered principle it is, that he is +thus burying his nose in them. Of course he presently reflects that he +has not broken open a cabinet nor violated a desk, but that these +repositories have been very freely and confidently emptied into his lap. +The two stout volumes of the "Correspondence de H. de Balzac, +1819-1850,"<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> lately put forth, are remarkable, like many other French +books of the same sort, for the almost complete absence of editorial +explanation or introduction. They have no visible sponsor; only a few +insignificant lines of preface and the scantiest possible supply of +notes. Such as the book is, in spite of its abruptness, we are thankful +for it; in spite, too, of our bad conscience. What we mean by our bad +conscience is the feeling with which we see the last remnant of charm, +of the graceful and the agreeable, removed from Balzac's literary +physiognomy. His works had not left much of this favoring shadow, but +the present publication has let in the garish light of full publicity. +The grossly, inveterately professional character of all his activity, +the absence of leisure, of contemplation, of disinterested experience, +the urgency of his consuming money-hunger—all this is rudely exposed. +It is always a question whether we have a right to investigate a man's +life for the sake of anything but his official utterances—his results. +The picture of Balzac's career which is given in these letters is a +record of little else but painful processes, unrelieved by reflections +or speculations, by any moral or intellectual emanation. To prevent +misconception, however, we hasten to add that they tell no disagreeable +secrets; they contain nothing for the lovers of scandal. Balzac was a +very honest man, but he was a man almost tragically uncomfortable, and +the unsightly underside of his discomfort stares us full in the face. +Still, if his personal portrait is without ideal beauty, it is by no +means without a certain brightness, or at least a certain richness of +coloring. Huge literary ogre as he was, he was morally nothing of a +monster. His heart was capacious, and his affections vigorous; he was +powerful, coarse, and kind.</p> + +<p>The first letter in the series is addressed to his elder sister, Laure, +who afterward became Mme. de Surville, and who, after her illustrious +brother's death, published in a small volume some agreeable +reminiscences of him. For this lady he had, especially in his early +years, a passionate affection. He had in 1819 come up to Paris from +Touraine, in which province his family lived, to seek his fortune as a +man of letters. The episode is a strange and gloomy one. His vocation +for literature had not been favorably viewed at home, where money was +scanty; but the parental consent, or rather the parental tolerance, was +at last obtained for his experiment. The future author of the "Père +Goriot" was at this time but twenty years of age, and in the way of +symptoms of genius had nothing but a very robust self-confidence to +show. His family, who had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> to contribute to his support while his +masterpieces were a-making, appear to have regretted, the absence of +further guarantees. He came to Paris, however, and lodged in a garret, +where the allowance made him by his father kept him neither from +shivering nor from nearly starving. The situation had been arranged in a +way very characteristic of French manners. The fact that Honoré had gone +to Paris was kept a secret from the friends of the family, who were told +that he was on a visit to a cousin in the South. He was on probation, +and if he failed to acquire literary renown, his excursion should be +hushed up. This pious fraud did not contribute to the comfort of the +young scribbler, who was afraid to venture abroad by day lest he should +be seen by an acquaintance of the family. Balzac must have been at this +time miserably poor. If he goes to the theatre, he has to pay for the +pleasure by fasting. He wishes to see Talma (having to go to the play, +to keep up the fiction of his being in the South, in a latticed box). "I +shall end by giving in.... My stomach already trembles." Meanwhile he +was planning a tragedy of "Cromwell," which came to nothing, and writing +the "Héritière de Birague," his first novel, which he sold for one +hundred and sixty dollars. Through these early letters, in spite of his +chilly circumstances, there flows a current of youthful ardor, gayety, +and assurance. Some passages in his letters to his sister are a sort of +explosion of animal spirits:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Ah, my sister, what torments it gives us—the love of glory! +Long live grocers! they sell all day, count their gains in the +evening, take their pleasure from time to time at some +frightful melodrama—and behold them happy! Yes, but they pass +their time between cheese and soap. Long live rather men of +letters! Yes, but these are all beggars in pocket, and rich +only in conceit. Well, let us leave them all alone, and long +live every one!</p></div> + +<p>Elsewhere he scribbles: "Farewell, <i>soror</i>! I hope to have a letter +<i>sororis</i> to answer <i>sorori</i>, then to see <i>sororem</i>," etc. Later, after +his sister is married, he addresses her as "<i>the box that contains +everything pleasing; the elixir of virtue, grace, and beauty; the jewel, +the phenomenon of Normandy; the pearl of Bayeux, the fairy of St. +Lawrence, the virgin of the Rue Teinture, the guardian angel of Caen, +the goddess of enchantments, the treasure of friendship</i>."</p> + +<p>We shall continue to quote, without the fear of our examples exceeding, +in the long run, our commentary. "Find me some widow, a rich heiress," +he writes to his sister at Bayeux, whither her husband had taken her to +live. "You know what I mean. Only brag about me. Twenty-two years old, a +good fellow, good manners, a bright eye, fire, the best dough for a +husband that heaven has ever kneaded. I will give you five per cent. on +the dowry." "Since yesterday," he writes in another letter, "I have +given up dowagers and have come down to widows of thirty. Send all you +find to Lord Rhoone [this remarkable improvisation was one of his early +<i>noms de plume</i>]; that's enough—he is known at the city limits. Take +notice. They are to be sent prepaid, without crack or repair, and they +are to be rich and amiable. Beauty isn't required. The varnish goes, and +the bottom of the pot remains!"</p> + +<p>Like many other young men of ability, Balzac felt the little rubs—or +the great ones—of family life. His mother figures largely in these +volumes (she survived her glorious son), and from the scattered +reflection of her idiosyncrasies the attentive reader constructs a +sufficiently vivid portrait. She was the old middle-class Frenchwoman +whom he has so often seen—devoted, active, meddlesome, parsimonious, +exacting veneration, and expending zeal. Honoré tells his sister:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>The other day, coming back from Paris much bothered, it never +occurred to me to thank <i>maman</i> for a black coat which she had +had made for me; at my age one isn't particularly sensitive to +such a present. Nevertheless, it would not have cost me much to +seem touched by the attention, especially as it was a +sacrifice. But I forgot it. <i>Maman</i> began to pout, and you know +what her aspect and her face amount to at those moments. I fell +from the clouds, and racked my brain to know what I had done. +Happily Laurence [his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> younger sister] came and notified me, +and two or three words as fine as amber mended <i>maman's</i> +countenance. The thing is nothing—a mere drop of water; but +it's to give you an example of our manners. Ah, we are a jolly +set of originals in our holy family. What a pity I can't put us +into novels!</p></div> + +<p>His father wished to find him an opening in some profession, and the +thought of being made a notary was a bugbear to the young man: "Think of +me as dead, if they cap me with that extinguisher." And yet, in the next +sentence, he breaks out into a cry of desolate disgust at the aridity of +his actual circumstances: "They call this mechanical rotation +living—this perpetual return of the same things. If there were only +something to throw some charm or other over my cold existence. I have +none of the flowers of life, and yet I am in the season in which they +bloom. What will be the use of fortune and pleasures when my youth has +departed? What need of the garments of an actor if one no longer plays a +part? An old man is a man who has dined, and who watches others eat; and +I, young as I am—my plate is empty, and I am hungry. Laure, Laure, my +two only and immense desires, <i>to be famous and to be loved</i>—will they +ever be satisfied?"</p> + +<p>These occasional bursts of confidence in his early letters to his sister +are (with the exception of certain excellent pages, addressed in the +last years of his life to the lady he eventually married) Balzac's most +delicate, most emotional utterances. There is a touch of the ideal in +them. Later, one wonders where he keeps his ideal. He has one of course, +artistically, but it never peeps out. He gives up talking sentiment, and +he never discusses "subjects"; he only talks business. Meanwhile, +however, at this period, business was increasing with him. He agrees to +write three novels for eight hundred and twenty dollars. Here begins the +inextricable mystery of Balzac's literary promises, pledges, projects, +and contracts. His letters form a swarming register of schemes and +bargains through which he passes like a hero of the circus, riding half +a dozen piebald coursers at once. We confess that in this matter we have +been able to keep no sort of account; the wonder is that Balzac should +have accomplished the feat himself. After the first year or two of his +career, we never see him working upon a single tale; his productions +dovetail and overlap, and dance attendance upon each other in the most +bewildering fashion. As soon as one novel is fairly on the stocks he +plunges into another, and while he is rummaging in this with one hand, +he stretches out a heroic arm and breaks ground in a third. His plans +are always vastly in advance of his performance; his pages swarm with +titles of books that were never to be written. The title circulates with +such an assurance that we are amazed to find, fifty pages later, that +there is no more of it than of the cherubic heads. With this, Balzac was +constantly paid in advance by his publishers—paid for works not begun, +or barely begun; and the money was as constantly spent before the +equivalent had been delivered. Meanwhile more money was needed, and new +novels were laid out to obtain it; but prior promises had first to be +kept. Keeping them, under these circumstances, was not an exhilarating +process; and readers familiar with Balzac will reflect with wonder that +these were yet the circumstances in which some of his best tales were +written. They were written, as it were, in the fading light, by a man +who saw night coming on, and yet couldn't afford to buy candles. He +could only hurry. But Balzac's way of hurrying was all his own; it was a +sternly methodical haste, and might have been mistaken, in a more +lightly-weighted genius, for elaborate trifling. The close tissue of his +work never relaxed; he went on doggedly and insistently, pressing it +down and packing it together, multiplying erasures, alterations, +repetitions, transforming proof-sheets, quarrelling with editors, +enclosing subject within subject, accumulating notes upon notes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>The letters make a jump from 1822 to 1827, during which interval he had +established, with borrowed capital, a printing house, and seen his +enterprise completely fail. This failure saddled him with a mountain of +debt which pressed upon him crushingly for years, and of which he rid +himself only toward the close of his life. Balzac's debts are another +labyrinth in which we do not profess to hold a clue. There is scarcely a +page of these volumes in which they are not alluded to, but the reader +never quite understands why they should bloom so perennially. The +liabilities incurred by the collapse of the printing scheme can hardly +have been so vast as not to have been for the most part cancelled by ten +years of heroic work. Balzac appears not to have been extravagant; he +had neither wife nor children (unlike many of his comrades, he had no +illegitimate offspring), and when he admits us to a glimpse of his +domestic economy, we usually find it to be of a very meagre pattern. He +writes to his sister in 1827 that he has not the means either to pay the +postage of letters or to use omnibuses, and that he goes out as little +as possible, so as not to wear out his clothes. In 1829, however, we +find him in correspondence with a duchess, Mme. d'Abrantès, the widow of +Junot, Napoleon's rough marshal, and author of those voluminous memoirs +upon the imperial court which it was the fashion to read in the early +part of the century. The Duchess d'Abrantès wrote bad novels, like +Balzac himself at this period, and the two became good friends.</p> + +<p>The year 1830 was the turning point in Balzac's career. Renown, to which +he had begun to lay siege in Paris in 1820, now at last began to show +symptoms of self-surrender. Yet one of the strongest expressions of +discontent and despair in the pages before us belongs to this brighter +moment. It is also one of the finest passages:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Sacredieu, my good friend, I believe that literature, in the +day we live in, is no better than the trade of a woman of the +town, who prostitutes herself for a dollar. It leads to +nothing. I have an itch to go off and wander and explore, make +of my life a drama, risk my life; for, as for a few miserable +years more or less!... Oh, when one looks at these great skies +of a beautiful night, one is ready to unbutton——</p></div> + +<p>But the modesty of the English tongue forbids us to translate the rest +of the phrase. Dean Swift might have related how Balzac wished to +express his contempt for all the royalties of the earth. Now that he is +in the country, he goes on:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I have been seeing real splendors, such as fine, sound fruit +and gilded insects; I have been quite turning philosopher, and +if I happen to tread upon an anthill, I say, like that immortal +Bonaparte, "These creatures are men: what is it to Saturn, or +Venus, or the North Star?" And then my philosopher comes down +to scribble "items" for a newspaper. <i>Proh pudor!</i> And so it +seems to me that the ocean, a brig, and an English vessel to +sink, if you must sink yourself to do it, are rather better +than a writing-desk, a pen, and the Rue St. Denis.</p></div> + +<p>But Balzac was fastened to the writing desk. In 1831 he tells one of his +correspondents that he is working fifteen or sixteen hours a day. Later, +in 1837, he describes himself repeatedly as working eighteen hours out +of the twenty-four. In the midst of all this (it seems singular), he +found time for visions of public life, of political distinction. In a +letter written in 1830 he gives a succinct statement of his political +views, from which we learn that he approved of the French monarchy +having a constitution, and of instruction being diffused among the lower +orders. But he desired that the people should be kept "under the most +powerful yoke possible," so that in spite of their instruction they +should not become disorderly. It is fortunate, probably, both for Balzac +and for France, that his political rôle was limited to the production of +a certain number of forgotten editorials in newspapers; but we may be +sure that his dreams of statesmanship were brilliant and audacious. +Balzac indulged in no dreams that were not.</p> + +<p>Some of his best letters are addressed to Mme. Zulma Carraud, a lady +whose acquaintance he had made through his sister Laure, of whom she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +was an intimate friend, and whose friendship (exerted almost wholly +through letters, as she always lived in the country) appears to have +been one of the brightest and most salutary influences of his life. He +writes to her in 1832:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There are vocations which we must obey, and something +irresistible draws me on to glory and power. It is not a happy +life. There is within me the worship of woman (<i>le culte de la +femme</i>), and a need of love which has never been fully +satisfied. Despairing of ever being loved and understood by +such a woman as I have dreamed of, having met her only under +one form, that of the heart, I throw myself into the +tempestuous sphere of political passions and into the stormy +and desiccating atmosphere of literary glory. I shall fail +perhaps on both sides; but, believe me, if I have wished to +live the life of the age itself, instead of running my course +in happy obscurity, it is just because the pure happiness of +mediocrity has failed me. When one has a fortune to make, it is +better to make it great and illustrious; because, pain for +pain, it is better to suffer in a high sphere than in a low +one, and I prefer dagger blows to pin pricks.</p></div> + +<p>All this, though written at thirty years of age, is rather juvenile; +there was to be much less of the "tempest" in Balzac's life than is here +foreshadowed. He was tossed and shaken a great deal, as we all are, by +the waves of the time, but he was too stoutly anchored at his work to +feel the winds.</p> + +<p>In 1832 "Louis Lambert" followed the "Peau de Chagrin," the first in the +long list of his masterpieces. He describes "Louis Lambert" as "a work +in which I have striven to rival Goethe and Byron, Faust and Manfred. I +don't know whether I shall succeed, but the fourth volume of the +'Philosophical Tales' must be a last reply to my enemies and give the +presentiment of an incontestable superiority. You must therefore forgive +the poor artist his fatigue [he is writing to his sister], his +discouragements, and especially his momentary detachment from any sort +of interest that does not belong to his subject. 'Louis Lambert' has +cost me so much work! To write this book I have had to read so many +books! Some day or other, perhaps, it will throw science into new paths. +If I had made it a purely learned work, it would have attracted the +attention of thinkers, who now will not drop their eyes upon it. But if +chance puts it into their hands, perhaps they will speak of it!" In this +passage there is an immense deal of Balzac—of the great artist who was +so capable at times of self-deceptive charlatanism. "Louis Lambert," as +a whole, is now quite unreadable; it contains some admirable +descriptions, but the "scientific" portion is mere fantastic verbiage. +There is something extremely characteristic in the way Balzac speaks of +its having been optional with him to make it a "purely learned" work. +His pretentiousness was simply colossal, and there is nothing surprising +in his wearing the mask even <i>en famille</i> (the letter we have just +quoted from is, as we have said, to his sister); he wore it during his +solitary fifteen-hours sessions in his study. But the same letter +contains another passage, of a very different sort, which is in its way +as characteristic:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Yes, you are right. My progress is real, and my infernal +courage will be rewarded. Persuade my mother of this too, dear +sister; tell her to give me her patience in charity; her +devotion will be laid up in her favor. One day, I hope, a +little glory will pay her for everything. Poor mother, that +imagination of hers which she has given me throws her for ever +from north to south and from south to north. Such journeys tire +us; I know it myself! Tell my mother that I love her as when I +was a child. As I write you these lines my tears start—tears +of tenderness and despair; for I feel the future, and I need +this devoted mother on the day of triumph! When shall I reach +it? Take good care of our mother, Laure, for the present and +the future.... Some day, when my works are unfolded, you will +see that it must have taken many hours to think and write so +many things; and then you will absolve me of everything that +has displeased you, and you will excuse, not the selfishness of +the man (the man has none), but the selfishness of the worker.</p></div> + +<p>Nothing can be more touching than that; Balzac's natural affections were +as robust as his genius and his physical nature. The impression of the +reader of his letters quite confirms his assurance that the man proper +had no selfishness. Only we are constantly reminded that the man had +almost wholly resolved himself into the worker, and we remember a +statement of Sainte-Beuve's, in one of his malignant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> foot-notes, to the +effect that Balzac was "the grossest, greediest example of literary +vanity that he had ever known"—<i>l'amour-propre littéraire le plus avide +et le plus grossier que j'aie connu</i>. When we think of what Sainte-Beuve +must have known in this line, these few words acquire a portentous +weight.</p> + +<p>By this time (1832) Balzac was, in French phrase, thoroughly <i>lancé</i>. He +was doing, among other things, some of his most brilliant work, certain +of the "Contes Drôlatiques." These were written, as he tells his mother, +for relaxation, as a rest from harder labor. One would have said that no +work would have been much harder than compounding the marvellously +successful imitation of mediæval French in which these tales are +written. He had, however, other diversions as well. In the autumn of +1832 he was at Aix-les-Bains with the Duchess of Castries, a great lady, +and one of his kindest friends. He has been accused of drawing portraits +of great ladies without knowledge of originals; but Mme. de Castries was +an inexhaustible fund of instruction upon this subject. Three or four +years later, speaking of the story of the "Duchesse de Laugeais" to one +of his correspondents, another <i>femme du monde</i>, he tells her that as a +<i>femme du monde</i> she is not to pretend to find flaws in the picture, a +high authority having read the proofs for the express purpose of +removing them. The authority is evidently the Duchess of Castries.</p> + +<p>Balzac writes to Mme. Carraud from Aix: "At Lyons I corrected 'Lambert' +again. I licked my cub, like a she bear.... On the whole, I am +satisfied; it is a work of profound melancholy and of science. Truly, I +deserve to have a mistress, and my sorrow at not having one increases +daily; for love is my life and my essence.... I have a simple little +room," he goes on, "from which I see the whole valley. I rise pitilessly +at five o'clock in the morning, and work before my window until +half-past five in the evening. My breakfast comes from the club—an egg. +Mme. de Castries has good coffee made for me. At six o'clock we dine +together, and I pass the evening with her. She is the finest type (<i>le +type le plus fin</i>) of woman; Mme. de Beauséant [from "Le Père Goriot"] +improved; only, are not all these pretty manners acquired at the expense +of the soul?"</p> + +<p>During his stay at Aix he met an excellent opportunity to go to Italy; +the Duke de Fitz-James, who was travelling southward, invited him to +become a member of his party. He discourses the economical problem (in +writing to his mother) with his usual intensity, and throws what will +seem to the modern traveller the light of enchantment upon that golden +age of cheapness. Occupying the fourth place in the carriage of the +Duchess of Castries, his quarter of the total travelling expenses from +Geneva to Rome (carriage, beds, food, etc.) was to be fifty dollars! But +he was ultimately prevented from joining the party. He went to Italy +some years later.</p> + +<p>He mentions, in 1833, that the chapter entitled "Juana," in the superb +tale of "The Maranas," as also the story of "La Grenadière," was written +in a single night. He gives at the same period this account of his +habits of work: "I must tell you that I am up to my neck in excessive +work. My life is mechanically arranged. I go to bed at six or seven in +the evening, with the chickens; I wake up at one in the morning and work +till eight; then I take something light, a cup of pure coffee, and get +into the shafts of my cab until four; I receive, I take a bath, or I go +out, and after dinner I go to bed. I must lead this life for some months +longer, in order not to be overwhelmed by my obligations. The profit +comes slowly; my debts are inexorable and fixed. Now, it is certain that +I will make a great fortune; but I must wait for it, and work for three +years. I must go over things, correct them again, put everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> <i>en +état monumental</i>; thankless work, not counted, without immediate +profit." He speaks of working at this amazing rate for three years +longer; in reality he worked for fifteen. But two years after the +declaration we have just quoted, it seemed to him that he should break +down: "My poor sister, I am draining the cup to the dregs. It is in vain +that I work my fourteen hours a day; I can't do enough. While I write +this to you I find myself so weary that I have just sent Auguste to take +back my word from certain engagements that I had formed. I am so weak +that I have advanced my dinner hour in order to go to bed earlier; and I +go nowhere." The next year he writes to his mother, who had apparently +complained of his silence: "My good mother, do me the charity to let me +carry my burden without suspecting my heart. A letter for me, you see, +is not only money, but an hour of sleep and a drop of blood."</p> + +<p>We spoke just now of Balzac's sentimental consolations; but it appears +that at times he was more acutely conscious of what he missed than of +what he enjoyed. "As for the soul," he writes to Mme. Carraud in 1833, +"I am profoundly sad. My work alone sustains me in life. Is there then +to be no woman for me in this world? My physical melancholy and <i>ennui</i> +last longer and grow more frequent. To fall from this crushing labor to +nothing—not to have near me that soft, caressing mind of woman, for +whom I have done so much!" He had, however, a devoted feminine friend, +to whom none of the letters in these volumes are addressed, but who is +several times alluded to. This lady, Mme. de Berny, died in 1836, and +Balzac speaks of her ever afterward with extraordinary tenderness and +veneration. But if there had been a passion between them, it was only a +passionate friendship. "Ah, my dear mother," he writes on New Year's +day, 1836, "I am harrowed with grief. Mme. de Berny is dying; it is +impossible to doubt it. No one but God and myself knows what my despair +is. And I must work—work while I weep!" He writes of Mme. de Berny at +the time of her death as follows. The letter is addressed to a lady with +whom he was in correspondence more or less sentimental, but whom he +never saw: "The person whom I have lost was more than a mother, more +than a friend, more than any creature can be for another. The term +<i>divinity</i> only can explain her. She had sustained me by word, by act, +by devotion, during my worst weather. If I live, it is by her; she was +everything for me. Although for two years illness and time had separated +us, we were visible at a distance for each other. She reacted upon me; +she was a moral sun. Mme. de Mortsauf, in the 'Lys dans la Vallée,' is a +pale expression of this person's slightest qualities." Three years +afterward he writes to his sister: "I am alone against all my troubles, +and formerly, to help me to resist them, I had with me the sweetest and +bravest person in the world; a woman who every day is born again in my +heart, and whose divine qualities make the friendships that are compared +with hers seem pale. I have now no adviser in my literary difficulties; +I have no guide but the fatal thought, 'What would she say if she were +living?'" And he goes on to enumerate some of his actual and potential +friends. He tells his sister that she herself might have been for him a +close intellectual comrade if her duties of wife and mother had not +given her too many other things to think about. The same is true of Mme. +Carraud: "Never has a more extraordinary mind been more smothered; she +will die in her corner unknown! George Sand," he continues, "would +speedily be my friend; she has no pettiness whatever in her soul—none +of the low jealousies which obscure so many contemporary talents. Dumas +resembles her in this; but she has not the critical sense. Mme. Hanska +is all this; but I cannot weigh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> upon her destiny." Mme. Hanska was the +Polish lady whom he ultimately married, and of whom we shall speak. +Meanwhile, for a couple of years (1836 and 1837), he carried on an +exchange of opinions, of the order that the French call <i>intimes</i>, with +the unseen correspondent to whom we have alluded, and who figures in +these volumes as "Louise." The letters, however, are not love letters; +Balzac, indeed, seems chiefly occupied in calming the ardor of the lady, +who was evidently a woman of social distinction. "Don't have any +friendship for me," he writes; "I need too much. Like all people who +struggle, suffer, and work, I am exacting, mistrustful, wilful, +capricious.... If I had been a woman, I should have loved nothing so +much as some soul buried like a well in the desert—discovered only when +you place yourself directly under the star which indicates it to the +thirsty Arab."</p> + +<p>His first letter to Mme. Hanska here given bears the date of 1835; but +we are informed in a note that he had at that moment been for some time +in correspondence with her. The correspondence had begun, if we are not +mistaken, on Mme. Hanska's side, before they met; she had written to him +as a literary admirer. She was a Polish lady of great fortune, with an +invalid husband. After her husband's death, projects of marriage defined +themselves more vividly, but practical considerations kept them for a +long time in the background. Balzac had first to pay off his debts, and +Mme. Hanska, as a Polish subject of the Czar Nicholas, was not in a +position to marry from one day to another. The growth of their intimacy +is, however, amply reflected in these volumes, and the dénouement +presents itself with a certain dramatic force. Balzac's letters to his +future wife, as to every one else, deal almost exclusively with his +financial situation. He discusses the details of this matter with all +his correspondents, who apparently have—or are expected to have—his +monetary entanglements at their fingers' ends. It is a constant +enumeration of novels and tales begun or delivered, revised or bargained +for. The tone is always profoundly sombre and bitter. The reader's +general impression is that of lugubrious egotism. It is the rarest thing +in the world that there is an allusion to anything but Balzac's own +affairs, and to the most sordid details of his own affairs. Hardly an +echo of the life of his time, of the world he lived in, finds its way +into his letters; there are no anecdotes, no impressions, no opinions, +no descriptions, no allusions to things heard, people seen, emotions +felt—other emotions, at least, than those of the exhausted or the +exultant worker. The reason of all this is of course very obvious. A man +could not be such a worker as Balzac and be much else besides. The note +of animal spirits which we observed in his early letters is sounded much +less frequently as time goes on; although the extraordinary robustness +and exuberance of his temperament plays richly into his books. The +"Contes Drôlatiques" are full of it, and his conversation was also full +of it. But the letters constantly show us a man with the edge of his +spontaneity gone—a man groaning and sighing, as from Promethean lungs, +complaining of his tasks, denouncing his enemies, and in complete ill +humor generally with life. Of any expression of enjoyment of the world, +of the beauties of nature, art, literature, history, human character, +these pages are singularly destitute. And yet we know that such +enjoyment—instinctive, unreasoning, essential—is half the inspiration +of the poet. The truth is that Balzac was as little as possible of a +poet; he often speaks of himself as one, but he deserved the name as +little as his own Canalis or his own Rubempré. He was neither a poet nor +a moralist, though the latter title in France is often bestowed upon +him—a fact which strikingly helps to illustrate the Gallic lightness of +soil in the moral region.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> Balzac was the hardest and deepest of +<i>prosateurs</i>; the earth-scented facts of life, which the poet puts under +his feet, he had put above his head. Obviously there went on within him +a vast and constant intellectual unfolding. His mind must have had a +history of its own—a history of which it would be most interesting to +have an occasional glimpse. But the history is not related here, even in +glimpses. His books are full of ideas; his letters have almost none. It +is probably not unfair to argue from this fact that there were few ideas +that he greatly cared for. Making all allowance for the pressure and +tyranny of circumstances, we may believe that if he had greatly cared to +<i>se recueillir</i>, as the French say—greatly cared, in the Miltonic +phrase, "to interpose a little ease"—he would sometimes have found an +opportunity for it. Perpetual work, when it is joyous and salubrious, is +a very fine thing; but perpetual work, when it is executed with the +temper which more than half the time appears to have been Balzac's, has +in it something almost debasing. We constantly feel that his work would +have been vastly better if the Muse of "business" had been elbowed away +by her larger-browed sister. Balzac himself, doubtless, often felt in +the same way; but, on the whole, "business" was what he most cared for. +The "Comédie Humaine" represents an immense amount of joy, of +spontaneity, of irrepressible artistic life. Here and there in the +letters this occasionally breaks out in accents of mingled exultation +and despair. "Never," he writes in 1836, "has the torrent which bears me +along been more rapid; never has a work more majestically terrible +imposed itself upon the human brain. I go to my work as the gamester to +the gaming-table; I am sleeping now only five hours and working +eighteen; I shall arrive dead.... Write to me; be generous; take nothing +in bad part, for you don't know how, at moments, I deplore this life of +fire. But how can I jump out of the chariot?" We had occasion in +writing of Balzac in these pages more than a year ago<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> to say that his +great characteristic, far from being a passion for ideas, was a passion +for <i>things</i>. We said just now that his books are full of ideas; but we +must add that his letters make us feel that these ideas are themselves +in a certain sense "things." They are pigments, properties, frippery; +they are always concrete and available. Balzac cared for them only if +they would fit into his inkstand.</p> + +<p>He never "jumped out of his car"; but as the years went on he was able +at times to let the reins hang more loosely. There is no evidence that +he made the great fortune he had looked forward to; but he must have +made a great deal of money. In the beginning his work was very poorly +paid, but after his reputation was solidly established he received large +sums. It is true that they were swallowed up in great part by his +"debts"—that dusky, vaguely outlined, insatiable maw which we see +grimacing for ever behind him, like the face on a fountain which should +find itself receiving a stream instead of giving it out. But he +travelled (working all the while en route). He went to Italy, to +Germany, to Russia; he built houses, he bought pictures and pottery. One +of his journeys illustrates his singular mixture of economic and +romantic impulses. He made a breathless pilgrimage to the island of +Sardinia to examine the scoriæ of certain silver mines, anciently worked +by the Romans, in which he had heard that the metal was still to be +found. The enterprise was fantastic and impracticable; but he pushed his +excursion through night and day, as he had written the "Père Goriot." In +his relative prosperity, when once it was established, there are strange +lapses and stumbling-places. After he had built and was living in his +somewhat fantastical villa of Les Jardies at Sèvres, close to Paris, he +invites a friend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> to stay with him on these terms: "I can take you to +board at forty sous a day, and for thirty-five francs you will have +fire-wood enough for a month." In his joke he is apt to betray the same +preoccupation. Inviting Charles de Bernard and his wife to come to Les +Jardies to help him arrange his books, he adds that they will have fifty +sous a day and their wine. He is constantly talking of his expenses, of +what he spends in cab hire and postage. His letters to the Countess +Hanska are filled with these details. "Yesterday I was running about all +day: twenty-five francs for carriages!" The man of business is never +absent. For the first representations of his plays he arranges his +audiences with an eye to effect, like an <i>impresario</i> or an agent. In +the boxes, for "Vautrin," "I insist upon there being handsome women." +Presenting a copy of the "Comédie Humaine" to the Austrian ambassador, +he accompanies it with a letter calling attention, in the most elaborate +manner, to the typographical beauty and the cheapness of the work; the +letter reads like a prospectus or an advertisement.</p> + +<p>In 1840 (he was forty years old) he thought seriously of marriage—with +this remark as the preface to the announcement: "<i>Je ne veux plus avoir +de cœur!...</i> If you meet a young girl of twenty-two," he goes on, +"with a fortune of 200,000 francs, or even of 100,000, provided it can +be used in business, you will think of me. I want a woman who shall be +able to be what the events of my life may demand of her—the wife of an +ambassador, or a housewife at Les Jardies. But don't speak of this; it's +a secret. She must be an ambitious, clever girl." This project, however, +was not carried out; Balzac had no time to marry. But his friendship +with Mme. Hanska became more and more absorbing, and though their +project of marriage, which was executed in 1850, was kept a profound +secret until after the ceremony, it is apparent that they had had it a +long time in their thoughts.</p> + +<p>For this lady Balzac's esteem and admiration seem to have been +unbounded; and his letters to her, which in the second volume are very +numerous, contain many noble and delicate passages. "You know too well," +he says to her somewhere, with a happy choice of words belonging to the +writer, whose diction was here and there as felicitous as it was +generally intolerable—"<i>Vous savez trop bien que tout ce qui n'est pas +vous n'est que surface, sottise et vains palliatifs de l'absence.</i>" "You +must be proud of your children," he writes to his sister from Poland; +"such daughters are the recompense of your life. You must not be unjust +to destiny; you may now accept many misfortunes. It is like myself with +Mme. Hanska. The gift of her affection explains all my troubles, my +weariness, and my toil; I was paying to evil, in advance, the price of +such a treasure. As Napoleon said, we pay for everything here below; +nothing is stolen. It seems to me that I have paid very little. +Twenty-five years of toil and struggle are nothing as the purchase money +of an attachment so splendid, so radiant, so complete."</p> + +<p>Mme. Hanska appears to have come rarely to Paris, and when she came to +have shrouded her visits in mystery; but Balzac arranged several +meetings with her abroad, and visited her at St. Petersburg and on her +Polish estates. He was devotedly fond of her children, and the tranquil, +opulent family life to which she introduced him appears to have been one +of the greatest pleasures he had known. In several passages which, for +Balzac, may be called graceful and playful, he expresses his +homesickness for her chairs and tables, her books, the sight of her +dresses. Here is something, in one of his letters to her, which is worth +quoting: "In short, this is the game that I play; four men will have +had, in this century, an immense influence—Napoleon, Cuvier, O'Connell. +I should like to be the fourth. The first lived on the blood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> of Europe; +<i>il s'est inoculé des armées</i>; the second espoused the globe; the third +became the incarnation of a people; I—I shall have carried a whole +society in my head. But there will have been in me a much greater and +much happier being than the writer—and that is your slave. My feeling +is finer, grander, more complete, than all the satisfactions of vanity +or of glory. Without this plenitude of the heart I should never have +accomplished the tenth part of my work; I should not have had this +ferocious courage." During a few days spent at Berlin, on his way back +from St. Petersburg, he gives his impressions of the "capital of +Brandenburg" in a tone which almost seems to denote a prevision of the +style of allusion to this locality and its inhabitants which was to +become fashionable among his countrymen thirty years later. Balzac +detested Prussia and the Prussians.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It is owing to this charlatanism [the spacious distribution of +the streets, etc.] that Berlin has a more populous look than +Petersburg; I would have said "more animated" look if I had +been speaking of another people; but the Prussian, with his +brutal heaviness, will never be able to do anything but crush. +To produce the movement of a great European capital you must +have less beer and bad tobacco, and more of the French or +Italian spirit; or else you must have the great industrial and +commercial ideas which have produced the gigantic development +of London; but Berlin and its inhabitants will never be +anything but an ugly little city, inhabited by an ugly big +people.</p></div> + +<p>"I have seen Tieck <i>en famille</i>," he says in another letter. "He seemed +pleased with my homage. He had an old countess, his contemporary in +spectacles, almost an octogenarian—a mummy with a green eye-shade, whom +I supposed to be a domestic divinity.... I am at home again; it is +half-past six in the evening, and I have eaten nothing since this +morning. Berlin is the city of <i>ennui</i>; I should die here in a week. +Poor Humboldt is dying of it; he drags with him everywhere his nostalgia +for Paris."</p> + +<p>Balzac passed the winter of 1848-'49 and several months more at +Vierzschovnia, the Polish estate of Mme. Hanska and her children. His +health had been gravely impaired, and the doctors had absolutely +forbidden him to work. His inexhaustible and indefatigable brain had at +last succumbed to fatigue. But the prize was gained; his debts were +paid; he was looking forward to owning at last the money that he should +make. He could afford—relatively speaking at least—to rest. His fame +had been solidly built up; the public recognized his greatness. Already, +in 1846, he had written: "You will learn with pleasure, I am sure, that +there is an immense reaction in my favor. At last I have conquered! Once +more my protecting star has watched over me.... At this moment the +public and the papers turn toward me favorably; more than that, there is +a sort of acclamation, a general consecration.... It is a great year for +me, dear Countess."</p> + +<p>To be ill and kept from work was, for Balzac, to be a chained +Prometheus; but there was much during these last months to alleviate his +impatience. His letters at this period are easier, less painfully +preoccupied than at any other; and he found in Poland better medical +advice than he deemed obtainable in Paris. He was preparing a house in +Paris to receive him as a married man—preparing it apparently with +great splendor. At Les Jardies the pictures and divans and tapestries +had mostly been nominal—had been present only in grand names, chalked +grotesquely upon the empty walls. But during the last years of his life +Balzac appears to have been a great collector. He bought many pictures +and other objects of value; in particular, there figures in these +letters a certain set of Florentine furniture which he was willing to +sell again, but to sell only to a royal purchaser. The King of Holland +appears to have been in treaty for it. Readers of the "Comédie Humaine" +have no need to be reminded of the author's passion for furniture; +nowhere else are there such loving or such invidious descriptions of it. +"Decidedly," he writes once to Mme. Hanska, "I will send<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> to Tours for +the Louis XVI. secretary and bureau; the room will then be complete. +It's a matter of a thousand francs; but for a thousand francs what can +one get in modern furniture? <i>Des platitudes bourgeoises, des misères +sans valeur et sans goût.</i>"</p> + +<p>Old Mme. de Balzac was her son's factotum and universal agent. His +letters from Vierzschovnia are filled with prescriptions of activity for +his mother, accompanied always with the urgent reminder that she is to +use cabs <i>ad libitum</i>. He goes into the minutest details (she was +overlooking the preparation of his house in the Rue Fortunée, which must +have been converted into a very picturesque residence): "The carpet in +the dining-room must certainly be readjusted. Try and make M. Henry send +his carpet-layer. I owe that man a good <i>pour-boire</i>; he laid all the +carpets, and I once was rough with him. You must tell him that in +September he can come and get his present. I want particularly to give +it to him myself."</p> + +<p>His mother occasionally annoyed him by unreasonable exactions and +untimely interferences. There is an episode of a letter which she writes +to him at Vierzschovnia, and which, coming to Mme. Hanska's knowledge, +endangers his prospect of marriage. He complains bitterly to his sister +that his mother <i>cannot</i> get it out of her head that he is still fifteen +years old. But there is something very touching in his constant +tenderness toward her—as well as something very characteristically +French—very characteristic of the French sentiment of family +consistency and solidarity—in the way in which, by constantly counting +upon her practical aptitude and zeal, he makes her a fellow worker +toward the great total of his fame and fortune. At fifty years of age, +at the climax of his distinction, announcing to her his brilliant +marriage, he signs himself <i>Ton fils soumis</i>. To his old friend Mme. +Carraud he speaks thus of this same event: "The dénouement of that +great and beautiful drama of the heart which has lasted these sixteen +years.... Three days ago I married the only woman I have loved, whom I +loved more than ever, and whom I shall love until death. I believe that +this union is the recompense that God has held in reserve for me through +so many adversities, years of work, difficulties suffered and +surmounted. I had neither a happy youth nor a flowering spring; I shall +have the most brilliant summer, the sweetest of all autumns." It had +been, as Balzac says, a drama of the heart, and the dénouement was of +the heart alone. Mme. Hanska, on her marriage, made over her large +fortune to her daughter.</p> + +<p>Balzac had at last found rest and happiness, but his enjoyment of these +blessings was brief. The energy that he had expended to gain them left +nothing behind it. His terrible industry had blasted the soil it passed +over; he had sacrificed to his work the very things he worked for. One +cannot do what Balzac did and live. He was enfeebled, exhausted, broken. +He died in Paris three months after his marriage. The reader feels that +premature death is the logical, the harmonious completion of such a +career. The strongest man has but a certain fixed quantity of life to +expend, and we may expect that if he works habitually fifteen hours a +day, he will spend it while, arithmetically speaking, he is yet young.</p> + +<p>We have been struck in reading these letters with the strong analogy +between Balzac's career and that of the great English writer whose +history was some time since so expansively written by Mr. Forster. +Dickens and Balzac take much in common; as individuals they strongly +resemble each other; their differences are chiefly differences of race. +Each was a man of affairs, an active, practical man, with a temperament +of almost phenomenal vigor and a prodigious quantity of life to expend. +Each had a character and a will—what is nowadays called a +personality—which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> imposed themselves irresistibly; each had a +boundless self-confidence and a magnificent egotism. Each had always a +hundred irons on the fire; each was resolutely determined to make money, +and made it in large quantities. In intensity of imaginative power, the +power of evoking visible objects and figures, seeing them themselves +with the force of hallucination, and making others see them all but just +as vividly, they were almost equal. Here there is little to choose +between them; they have had no rivals but each other and Shakespeare. +But they most of all resemble each other in the fact that they treated +their extraordinary imaginative force as a matter of business; that they +worked it as a gold mine, violently and brutally; overworked and ravaged +it. They succumbed to the task that they had laid upon themselves, and +they are as similar in their deaths as in their lives. Of course, if +Dickens is an English Balzac, he is a very English Balzac. His fortune +was the easier of the two, and his prizes were greater than the other's. +His brilliant opulent English prosperity, centred in a home and diffused +through a progeny, is in strong contrast with the almost scholastic +penury and obscurity of much of Balzac's career. But the analogy is +still very striking.</p> + +<p>In speaking formerly of Balzac in these pages we insisted upon the fact +that he lacked charm; but we said that our last word upon him should be +that he had incomparable power. His letters only confirm these +impressions, and above all they deepen our sense of his strength. They +contain little that is delicate, and not a great deal that is positively +agreeable; but they express an energy before which we stand lost in +wonder, in an admiration that almost amounts to awe. The fact that his +devouring observation of the great human spectacle has no echo in his +letters only makes us feel how concentrated and how intense was the +labor that went on in his closet. Certainly no solider intellectual work +has ever been achieved by man. And in spite of the massive egotism, the +personal absoluteness, to which these pages testify, they leave us with +a downright kindness for the author. He was coarse, but he was tender; +he was corrupt in a way, but he was hugely natural. If he was +ungracefully eager and voracious, awkwardly blind to all things that did +not contribute to his personal plan, at least his egotism was exerted in +a great cause. The "Comédie Humaine" has a thousand faults, but it is a +monumental excuse.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Henry James, Jr.</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Paris: Calmann Lévy. 1876.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> December, 1875.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LOVES_REQUIEM" id="LOVES_REQUIEM"></a>LOVE'S REQUIEM.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">I.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Bring withered autumn leaves!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Call everything that grieves,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And build a funeral pyre above his head!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Heap there all golden promise that deceives,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beauty that wins the heart and then bereaves—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">For love is dead.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">II.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Not slowly did he die!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A meteor from the sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Falls not so swiftly as his spirit fled;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When with regretful, half-averted eye<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He gave one little smile, one little sigh—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And so was sped.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">III.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">But, oh, not yet, not yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Can my lost soul forget<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How beautiful he was while he did live;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Or, when his eyes were dewy and lips wet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What kisses, tenderer than all regret,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My love would give!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">IV.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Strew roses on his breast!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He loved the roses best;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He never cared for lilies or for snow.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let be this bitter end of his sweet quest!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let be the pallid silence that is rest—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And let all go!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">William Winter.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="STORY_OF_A_LION" id="STORY_OF_A_LION"></a>STORY OF A LION.</h2> + + +<p>When Smith's Circus and Menagerie Combination Company went to Utica +James Rounders was a lusty fellow of twenty, of some natural sagacity, +and no school education. An interest in wild beasts had been developing +in him for several years, and the odor of sawdust had become grateful to +his nostrils. It was, however, only one kind of wild beast with which he +was especially occupied. The quadruped of the noble aspect, stately +gait, and tremendous roar—the lion—was the animal of Rounders's +predilection and the object of his study.</p> + +<p>He had gotten together some leading facts—so far as the stories of +lion-killers may be regarded as such—concerning his favorite animal. He +had heard how a lion had galloped off from the suburbs of the Cape of +Good Hope with a two years' old heifer in his mouth, and jumped over a +hedge twelve feet high, taking his burden over with him. In the same +region of southern Africa another lion was seen bearing off a horse at a +canter, the neck in his mouth and the body slung behind across his back. +According to one who hunted the animal in the interior of Africa, a lion +one day sprang on an ox, his hind feet on the quarters, his fore feet +about the horns, and drew the head backward with such force as to break +the back of the animal. On another occasion the same hunter saw a lion +who took a heifer in his mouth, and though its legs trailed on the +ground, he carried it off as a cat would a rat, and jumped across a wide +ditch without difficulty. These accounts of the lion's strength were +articles of faith with James Rounders. He had been told that the royal +Bengal tiger of Asia was the equal in strength, if not the superior, of +the African lion, he having been known to smash the head of a bullock by +a single blow of his paw; but this Rounders did not believe.</p> + +<p>He read with some difficulty, moving his lips as he did so, in order to +get the matter clearly before his mind. He regarded it as a laborious +task, and would sooner have chopped a cord of wood than read for half an +hour. Notwithstanding the irksomeness of reading, there were two books +which led him conscientiously through their pages to the end—those of +Gordon Cumming and Jules Gérard on the hunting and killing of lions. The +two volumes comprised his library, and furnished his mind with all the +literary nutriment which it required.</p> + +<p>Rounders went to the opening performance of Smith's Circus and Menagerie +Combination Company. The ground leading up to the front of the canvas +was garnished in the usual way. There were two small parasitic tents +near the great one, on which primitive pictures hung of the woman of +enormous girth and the calf with six legs. A man stood at the flap +entrance of each, inviting people to enter and see these wonders of +nature for a moderate sum. Near by was the lemonade wagon, whose +proprietor was handing out glasses of his fluid with a briskness that +showed that many were athirst.</p> + +<p>When he entered the great tent the brass band was blowing blatantly, +four cavaliers in rusty spangles and four dowdy women were riding round +the ring, going through the old-time preliminary called the grand entry; +for whatever else may change, the circus remains faithful to its +traditions. The Yorick of the sawdust soon followed, and said the things +which convulsed us with laughter in our tender years, and which cause us +to smile in our maturity in the recollections they bring back. It was +the same bold joke and the same grimace. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> quips and quirks force on +us the fact that there is but little originality in the human mind, and +this was substantially the reflection of Rounders as he turned an +indifferent ear to the wearisome wit. He prided himself on his acumen, +and was not to be taken in with such worn buffoonery. Yet I trow that +even Rounders envied the children who gave themselves over body and soul +to the accredited man of humor.</p> + +<p>He looked at the woman going through the hoops, the trick pony seeking +for the hidden handkerchief, and the bareback rider turning a summerset, +with a mild interest, for he had seen them or something like them +before. The strong man who threw up the cannon balls into the air, and +allowed them to fall on his nape, to roll down the hollow of his back to +the ground, hardly aroused this indifferent spectator. What he looked +forward to with curiosity was the performance of the lion-tamer, and +when it did come it exceeded his expectations.</p> + +<p>The master of the ring, attired in what resembled the uniform of an +officer of the navy, stepped into the middle of the arena, and with the +affectation of good breeding characteristic of the class, said, "Ladies +and gentlemen: I have the honor to announce that John Brinton, the most +extraordinary and celebrated tamer of lions in the world, will appear +before you in his remarkable performance, during which every one is +requested to keep his seat. Your attention is especially directed to the +third part of it, as one of the marvels of the nineteenth century.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow there will be a matinée at one o'clock, and in the evening +the performance at the usual hour."</p> + +<p>The speaker bowed and retired. The band struck up "See, the Conquering +Hero Comes," as the Brinton in question came forward with that dash +which belongs to lion-tamers everywhere. He was an athletic man between +forty and fifty, of a stern countenance, and of a self-possession that +was evident as soon as he appeared. He was arrayed in flesh-colored +tights, with embroidered sky-blue velvet around the loins. He bore in +one hand a black rod, five or six feet long, and in the other a whip. +His hair was short, and he was cleanly shaved. Men who put their heads +between lions' jaws generally are, for the titillation of a straggling +hair might produce a cough that would prove tragical. He was quick and +decided in all his movements, as the lion-tamer should be, in order to +leave the beast no time to work itself up to a decision.</p> + +<p>The cage which he entered contained two lions. One was large, grumbling, +and fierce, who had passed a part of his life in the wilds of Africa; +the other, and smaller of the two, was an emasculated beast, born behind +the bars, and was as tractable as the animal usually is that has never +known freedom. The performance consisted of three parts. The first was +of the kind common to menageries. The tamer entered by the little door +in a corner, with the celerity which all tamers employ, and stood for a +moment in the statuesque immobility to which they are also given, in +coming before the public. Having done this, he started forward with the +black rod in his left hand, approached the animals, driving them to the +end of the cage, the end of the rod nearly touching their faces. Here +they stood under protest, growling. Then he raised his whip, struck the +smaller beast, making it run from one end of the cage to the other, and +leap over his shoulder in a way familiar to people who have visited a +menagerie. He threw it down, put his foot on its prostrate body, and +folded his arms in the character of victor. He lay down on it, pulled +open its jaws, and inserted his head therein. Then he jumped up and +dismissed it, with a cut of the whip, to one corner. During this time +the larger lion had been an indifferent and surly spectator. The tamer +approached, touching him with the rod,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> when he jumped forward with a +growl, half crouching. Quickly the tamer caught hold of his upper jaw +and tore it open, as great, rebellious cog-wheel growls issued from the +mighty throat. Then he spurned him with his foot, bowed to the audience, +went to the door, let himself out like a flash, the two animals making a +bound against it as he disappeared.</p> + +<p>"A, B, C," said Rounders. "Nothing new about that."</p> + +<p>During the interim venders went about holding up photographic portraits +of the tamer, lustily shouting his professional and private virtues. +Their voices were, however, soon drowned in the clash of the brass band, +which played a prelude to what was coming. At the conclusion of this a +lone and last voice cried out, "Ice-cold lemonade," but it was promptly +suppressed by those near the crier, as Brinton again appeared.</p> + +<p>The second part was a short drama enacted with the larger animal, whose +name was Brutus, the smaller one being driven into an adjoining cage. In +the drama Brutus was the faithful friend of his master, the tamer, who +is attacked by his enemies—a dozen supernumeraries in rusty spangles, +who simultaneously thrust their spears through the bars from the outside +of one end of the cage; when the spears are thus thrust through the +bars, the master calls on his faithful servant Brutus to save his +master's life, and rid him of his enemies, giving the command in the +words:</p> + +<p>"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!"</p> + +<p>This was the "situation." Brutus advances at the word of command, and +with a few blows from his great paws breaks the brittle spears which the +somewhat <i>flasque</i> enemies hold from without. At this the tamer strikes +an attitude, and shouts in a melodramatic voice:</p> + +<p>"Saved! And by this noble animal!"</p> + +<p>These words are accompanied with the action of putting an arm +affectionately around the neck of Brutus. This is the dénouement.</p> + +<p>He bows and retires as before, this time amid increased applause.</p> + +<p>"Not bad," said the critical Rounders, "but nothing extra."</p> + +<p>As Brinton disappeared the voices of the venders arose again, to be +drowned as before by the blare of the wind instruments. Silence was +restored for his next appearance. It was the third part which Rounders +desired especially to see, and a surprise was reserved for him. In it +the tamer entered the cage with a great piece of raw meat in each hand, +Brutus being still alone, standing in the middle of the cage, eagerly +looking out for his master. Brinton threw one of the pieces down in the +middle of the floor, and the beast pounced on it as only a wild beast +can, holding it between his paws as he gluttonously devoured it—not +with a lateral movement of the jaws, but cat-like—amid half stifled, +threatening growls, with menacing eyes turned from time to time toward +the tamer. What the tamer then did was the most extraordinary +performance which Rounders had ever seen, and sent thrills of admiration +down his spinal column.</p> + +<p>Brinton calmly approached the ferocious animal feeding, and took away +from it the half finished piece of meat, and as he did so the beast +growled, but submitted! After which he waved the half consumed beef in +the air and bowed, amid great applause, in which Rounders heartily +joined. Then the tamer said:</p> + +<p>"Brutus, you have behaved so well I shall reward you with another +piece."</p> + +<p>Which he did, the beast seizing it and gorging himself as before. At +this point the master of the ring stepped forth again as the tamer +disappeared, and said:</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen, when you recollect how difficult it is to take a +bone away from even a pet dog, it will give you some idea of the +marvellous performance you have just witnessed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> It will be repeated +to-morrow during the day and evening."</p> + +<p>"This is a real show," said Rounders, wound up to enthusiasm. "But how +does he do it?" This was the question which at once presented itself, +and thereafter gave him no peace. With this perplexing inquiry was +mingled a deep and abiding admiration. He was brought to a determination +to which he had been moving for two or three years. In a word, he +decided then and there to enter the vocation. He sought the man who had +sent the tingling, shivering sensation down his vertebræ, and explained +that he wanted to go with him on any terms and in any capacity.</p> + +<p>Brinton had taken off his professional gear, and was undistinguishable +from the sombre mass of his fellow citizens. He was out on the open +space near the great tent, looking abstractedly at a man blowing with +distended cheeks into a lung-testing machine. Rounders stood before him +with the respect due to a man who snatches meat away from a ferocious +lion.</p> + +<p>After going through his work with the beasts, Brinton was usually tired +and somewhat indifferent to the ordinary affairs of life. Other things +seemed pale after the emotions of the cage. When Rounders explained to +him what he wanted, the tamer said:</p> + +<p>"You've got it."</p> + +<p>"Got what?"</p> + +<p>"The lion fever. You are lion struck. I've seen a good many like you. +Its an uphill business. Not one keeper in fifty gets the handling of the +brutes, and still the only way of going about it is to be a keeper. +Besides handling them, you must have a <i>specialty</i>—a trick, you know. +You've got to get up one yourself or worm it out of somebody else. As +for the lion man telling anybody—that is something I haven't yet met +with. You may take his life, but he won't give up his trick; it's his +pride, his pleasure, and his bread and butter."</p> + +<p>"I want to be a keeper all the same," returned Rounders.</p> + +<p>"Come on then," said Brinton; "for we want a keeper, as we left one at +the last town. He was a young man who had been reading in natural +history about the noble nature of the lion, and he put his hand in +between the bars to pat Brutus on the head. The surgeon examined him, +and said his arm was fractured in several places—it was a regular chaw. +We left him in the hospital. I tell you this as a warning not to go +fooling round the beasts—that is, if you're coming."</p> + +<p>The fate of the young man of a too trusting faith in the noble nature of +the lion did not turn Rounders from his determination, and the next +morning he was a part of the establishment.</p> + +<p>At first the tongue of the tamer was pretty closely tied touching +matters of his profession, but in due time he expanded into talk when he +saw the genuine enthusiasm of the keeper for all that related to the +subject, yet naturally practised strict reserve in everything concerning +his particular work. In a word, professional secrets remained entombed.</p> + +<p>He thought men were born to his vocation, and there was no resisting it. +He had followed shows and hung around lion cages when he was a boy. +Toward manhood the business had exercised such a fascination that he at +last obtained employment with a tamer, whom he followed until he was +killed by his beasts. This sanguinary spectacle deterred him for the +time from the idea of entering a cage, but he continued his work.</p> + +<p>There were two kinds of lions in the menageries—those born and raised +in the cages and those caught as whelps wild in Asia and Africa. A few +full grown were caught in pits. The first time he entered a cage was in +a small show in a provincial town. The two lions whom he then +encountered were old and sick, and bore the scars of twenty years' +whipping on their bald hides; besides, they were born and brought up +behind the bars. They growled from force of habit, but there was not +much danger in them. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> posters of course announced the two brutes as +two of the most ferocious kings of the forest.</p> + +<p>From these he passed to cage-bred lions in their prime, thence to the +wild animals, of which Brutus was one. Until the tamer was able to work +with these last, he was not considered as belonging to the rank of real +tamers. The sensation he experienced the first time he entered the cage +of wild animals was difficult to describe; it was an appreciation of +imminent danger coupled with courage. When he issued from the cage his +tights and spangled cloth felt as if they had just come out of the wash +tub. He was steeled up to the point of bravery before the brutes, but +ten minutes afterward a child could have knocked him over.</p> + +<p>The principal secret of managing the brutes was not to be afraid of +them. When the man showed fear he was lost. The mastery was not acquired +so much through violence of treatment as an absolute sense of security +in their presence. Audacity and self-possession were necessary every +minute, every second; a moment's loss of equilibrium might prove fatal.</p> + +<p>The buttery mode of treatment about which bookmen wrote had no existence +in fact among showmen. No man managed his beasts with kindness. When his +Brutus licked his face in his performance it looked affectionate, but it +was not; he did it because he was afraid; and when the animal went +through this osculatory business he was obliged to keep his eye on him +with all the concentration of his will, for there was something in the +beast's eyes which showed that he would sooner use his teeth than his +tongue.</p> + +<p>There was an impression that a lion once tamed is tamed for good, as a +horse is broken to harness. This was an error; the lion had to be tamed +every day anew in order to keep him in subjection.</p> + +<p>Rounders asked him if he meant to say that all lions were vicious. To +which he answered negatively. There were good lions and bad lions, just +as there were good and bad men. The bad beasts, however, were more +numerous than the others, for it was their nature to kill to provide for +their hunger. The book talk about their generosity was not trustworthy; +the instinct of the beast was to kill when it was hungry, but when its +stomach was full it was less dangerous. He had seen the beast in its +wild state, having hunted him in Africa. He had captured Brutus there +when the animal was two years old; he was then ten, but always retained +something of his wild nature. He was secured in a pit with his mother, +the mother being shot.</p> + +<p>In another menagerie with which he had been connected his principal +performance was "the happy family," in which he brought together in the +same cage two lions, several wolves, a couple of bears, a sheep, a small +elephant with a monkey on his back. The crowning feature of this was the +introduction of the sheep's head into the lion's mouth, which he held +open by the upper lip with a strong grip. The sovereignty of the lions +was acknowledged by the other animals, who looked at them with fear, +getting as far away from them as the cage would permit. He had to pull +each one into the cage by force. He compelled a bear to stand with his +nose in close proximity to that of a lion; he called this the kiss of +friendship; the bear had to be kicked and pushed into position, looking +at the lion with terror; the lion did not deign to look at the bear, but +kept his eye fixed on his master, whom of course he obeyed under +protest. When the sheep was brought forward, and its head was put +between the lion's jaws, it was almost in a swooning condition, and +excited general pity. He had to get a new sheep every month, the daily +fear causing them soon to decline unto death.</p> + +<p>The foregoing, in substance, was a portion of the talk with which +Brinton gratified himself as well as his listener, the appreciative +Rounders.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> + +<p>The trick of pulling away the meat from under the jaws of Brutus was +technically known under the canvas as the "meat-jerk." It continued to +remain uppermost in the mind of the new keeper.</p> + +<p>The nomadic life had pleasures for Rounders, aside from the fascination +of the "meat-jerk." He drove a gayly colored wagon in the caravan, as it +moved through the country. At night, like the Arabs, they folded their +tents and stole away, and at dawn they were on the march. Perched on his +seat, Rounders's eyes dwelt on the landscape with its purple tints of +the morning, and his nostrils sniffed the sweet odors of Nature while +she was still in déshabille. Silently, like a variegated serpent, the +caravan crept around the hills and through the valleys. The musicians, +clad in gold and scarlet, rode through the country in their magnificent +chariot, and gave out no sound, their breath being reserved for the +towns and villages. The vestal silence remained unbroken by the +stridulous clarinet and the blatant trombones.</p> + +<p>Every man has a weakness, and Brinton had his. He was in tender +thraldom. He loved the woman that jumped through the hoops and balloons +on a padded horse. Whenever her eyes turned on him they sent a thrill +through him more exciting than that produced by Brutus. He generally +stood near the ring-board when she appeared in public, and envied the +ringmaster the agreeable duty of assisting her to mount. Admiringly he +watched her shapely legs going through the hoops and over the garters, +as her eyes sparkled and her face flushed with the excitement, but there +was no indication of his love being returned.</p> + +<p>When Rounders discovered this tenderness in the heart of the tamer, he +thought of Samson and Delilah, and wondered if something of the kind +could not be done with natural comeliness instead of a pair of scissors. +Guided by instinct, Rounders, who was a shrewd fellow, as has already +been said, made his court to Mlle. La Sauteuse, known in private life as +Sally Stubbs. There were conventional barriers between a keeper and a +rider, but Rounders by tact and good looks got over them, and whispered +sweet nonsense in the porches of Miss Stubbs's willing ear.</p> + +<p>One evening, after the performance, as the moon shone athwart the great +tent, and the brass band was hushed, Sally Stubbs stood against a +background of canvas, bathed in the sheen from on high. Quiet reigned in +the tents of the elephantine woman and the calf with six legs. The +lung-tester had folded up his machine and departed. The sound of +"ice-cold lemonade" had died in the general stillness. Mlle. La Sauteuse +leaned over lovingly to the new keeper, and asked in a low, sympathetic +voice,</p> + +<p>"What can I do for you, Jim Rounders?"</p> + +<p>"Find out the 'meat-jerk,'" was the swift response.</p> + +<p>"Alas," said the fair Stubbs, "when you've been as long in the tent as +I've been, you'll know that that is impossible. You might as well ask me +for a slice of the moon that is now lookin' down on this here peaceful +scene atween you and me."</p> + +<p>"You've heard the Sunday school story about Samson and Delilah?" pursued +Rounders.</p> + +<p>"What's that got to do with John Brinton's secret?"</p> + +<p>"What's been done can be done again. Delilah wormed it out of Samson: +why can't Sally Stubbs worm it out of Brinton?"</p> + +<p>"Cut off his hair, as the Bible woman did?"</p> + +<p>"That's too thin," said Rounders rashly, without fear of theological +dogma. "That's allygory. They call it hair-cuttin', and when they call +it that, its hairsplittin'. Take my word for it, Sally Stubbs, that when +she got the secret out of that hefty, long-haired man, she did it with +her pretty ways and good looks."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>Still, Miss Stubbs affirmed that such a project as Rounders entertained +was impossible; and it was true. In his weakest, or most sentimental +hours, Brinton knew how to withstand even the blandishments of the +charming Stubbs when she approached professional topics. Under her smile +he opened up like a morning-glory kissed by Aurora; but when she tried +to penetrate into the mystery of his great lion act, he closed up like +the same flower when it encounters the sun. He had a well-ordered mind +divided into compartments—business was one thing and love was another.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the keeper kept his eye on every movement of Brinton. He was +his shadow. When he was not occupied with the master, he was looking +after the animals. Reciprocity of kindness is a principle of nature +which Rounders had observed, and in which he had some faith, +notwithstanding the pessimist views of Brinton. He began by +familiarizing Brutus with the sight of his face, person, and voice. He +spoke to the animal in the most sympathetic accent of which he was +capable. He hung round his cage as long and as often as his duties would +permit. He reached the point of cajolery, and assumed friendship, as:</p> + +<p>"Well, Brutus, how are you, old boy? How did you like the last feed? I'm +afraid this travellin' round in confinement, on wheels, is injurin' your +complexion. Of course you would like to be footin' it like the rest of +us. I reckon it <i>would</i> be better for you, but it might be bad for some +of us two-legged fellows. Eh, bully boy?"</p> + +<p>This jocularity was in strange contrast to the sombre indifference with +which the king of the forest looked down on the speaker. Rounders +infringed on the rules laid down by Brinton in giving bits of meat to +the beast whenever an opportunity presented itself; but notwithstanding +these offerings, the two sombre eyes continued to regard him with an +unchanged expression. One day, to arouse him from his condition of +indifference or latent kindness, Rounders introduced a stick under the +bars to poke him up in a friendly way, touching him on his extended +paws. The beast struck quickly, and almost caught his hand. As it was, +one of his fingers was bruised by the blow. Brinton, unperceived by +Rounders, had been standing behind him noting the incident.</p> + +<p>"Rounders," said Brinton, "you're lucky. About two months ago a fellow +did the same thing as you've been doing, but he did not come out as well +as you."</p> + +<p>"What befell him?" asked Rounders.</p> + +<p>"Brutus caught his hand under the bars, pulled in his arm, reached out +his other paw in an affectionate embrace around the man's neck, pressed +him against the bars, and mashed him. When I came up it was too late. He +dropped on the sawdust and never got up again."</p> + +<p>In noting their habits, Rounders observed that they were more afraid of +the short pole which Brinton carried into the cage than they were of the +whip. Brinton called this bit of dark wood his magic wand, which in a +measure justified its name, for as soon as he touched them with it, they +gave way and drew back to the end of the cage. He usually carried it +with him into a little tent-chamber, which was rigged up near the lion's +cage. One night, after issuing from the cage, he forgot to take the +magic wand with him, leaving it lying on the sawdust, alongside of one +of the wheels which carried the beasts. Jim Rounders picked it up with +curiosity, and found it very heavy. In a word, it was iron. He drew his +hand caressingly from one end of it to the other, as he thought of the +effects which it produced when it came in contact with the lions' noses. +As his hand softly reached down to the other end, he drew it back as if +bitten by a viper, with an exclamation that would not have met with +favor in the Young Men's Christian Association.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> The end was hot. He +carried the rod into the little tent-chamber, and left it there. It was +now made clear to him why the animals showed such an aversion to the end +of the magic wand.</p> + +<p>The wife of Brutus was a lioness called Cleopatra, generally kept in +another cage. In the order of nature she was at times more affectionate +to her husband than at others, and during such periods Brutus became +irritable, and difficult to manage. It was hard to keep him down, even +with the hot iron. As they wended their way from village to village, and +town to town, over the old-fashioned turnpikes, Brutus entered one of +the irritable phases of his life, during which, it is hardly necessary +to say, the vigilant eye of Rounders was nearly always on the tamer in +his management of the brute. One night, through a chink of the little +tent-chamber, he saw Brinton standing irresolute, although behind his +time for entering the cage; the beads of sweat stood on his forehead, +and he held his heated iron in his hand; then he roused himself to +decision, spat on the heated end of the magic wand, which hissed, and +strode quickly to the cage.</p> + +<p>This was a revelation to Rounders. It was apparent that even Brinton, +plucky as he was, had his moments of apprehension and demoralization, +from which he concluded that the danger must be real. Rounders, as usual +taking a deep interest, followed him to the cage and took his station +near the front of it. Brinton's first action as soon as he got into the +cage was to run at the nose of Brutus with his hot iron and drive him +back to one end. Rounders fancied he could almost hear the frizzle of +the flesh. He went through the first part of the performance with the +cage-bred lion, whipping him and making him jump over his shoulders in +the usual way, but he omitted that part where he tore open the jaws of +Brutus, and made him lick his face.</p> + +<p>The dramatic event took place in the second part. Brinton in his +preoccupation of that night left the magic wand reposing against the +wheel near the door of the cage as he entered it, to play the drama. +Brutus, rebellious and gloomy, went through his part until the scene +where the spears are thrust through the bars arrived. His master gave +the word of command:</p> + +<p>"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!" at the same time +pointing as usual to the spears with the enemies behind them. Brutus, +who was at the opposite end of the cage—the tamer in the centre—did +not move. Brinton gave the command a second time, stamping with his foot +to enforce it. The eyes of the lion did not turn in the direction of the +spears, as they heretofore did when the animal was ordered to the +rescue, but settled in a sombre manner on Brinton, whom the beast began +gradually to approach. At this moment Rounders, who was narrowly +watching the proceeding, observed a momentary quailing of the eye in the +tamer; still he called up his fierce expression again, and gave the +order for the third time to the gradually advancing brute, whose eyes +were steadily fixed on him. The heart of Rounders beat quick; he held +his breath. The theory then flashed through his mind about the steady +human eye being able to hold the lion in subjection or deter him from +attacking, and he scanned the eyes of Brinton. They were both fixed on +the beast, but there was no sign of the beast's quailing. Brinton cursed +and shouted at the brute, the motive of which Rounders quickly +understood, another theory being that the lion is sometimes prevented +from attacking in this way. This noise seemed rather to contribute to +the ire of the beast; besides it was presently drowned in his mighty +roar. The culminating point of anger was reached, the mane stood out on +end, and the lashing tail stiffened into a straight line, as the animal +made a bound toward Brinton, who still bore himself as if he were +complete master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> Brinton fell. Quick as a flash, Rounders seized the +magic wand, burst open the little door, and made a lunge at the brute on +top of the fallen man. The men with the spears attacked him from behind, +and as the animal turned for a moment to face them, Rounders took +advantage of it to clutch Brinton, drag him to the door, and out of the +cage.</p> + +<p>At this the applause was deafening. It was the first night in this +community, and the spectators thought it was in the play. The heart of +Rounders turned sick as he heard the admiring shouts. He pulled Brinton +into the little tent-chamber; thence he smuggled him into a room in an +adjoining hotel.</p> + +<p>The beast had ripped the flesh from the bone nearly the length of his +leg, as the surgeon ascertained, who was secretly called in. Fortunately +no bones were broken. Five minutes after the event of the cage, the +manager of the concern came before the audience and stated that the +celebrated lion-tamer, John Brinton, who had been engaged at a fabulous +sum, and had performed before all the crowned heads of Europe, was taken +with a sudden indisposition to which he was sometimes subject, and would +be obliged to deny himself the pleasure of appearing again that evening. +Then he added some remark about the noble beast of the forest, who +probably regretted the non-appearance of its master—whom he positively +loved, as much as the people before him.</p> + +<p>After the show was over that night, the manager asked the doctor how +long the wounded tamer would keep his bed, to which answer was made that +it would be several weeks. The manager did not know what was to be done. +Then, turning to Rounders, he said,</p> + +<p>"There's good stuff in you. Brinton owes you his life. Don't you think +you might go into Pompey until Brinton gets on his legs?" (Pompey being +the old emasculated lion who appeared to the public in the same cage +with Brutus). To which question Rounders, picking up heart of grace, +said he thought he might.</p> + +<p>"I mean," added the manager, "of course, in keeping Brutus out of the +cage, and confining your handling to Pompey, who is not a bad-natured +animal. Have you got the courage to go into him?"</p> + +<p>Rounders said he had.</p> + +<p>"I don't want any foolhardiness," continued the manager. "If you can +manage to make Pompey run around the cage a little, that will do until +Brinton recovers."</p> + +<p>A few minutes afterward Rounders was in the room of the wounded tamer, +to whom he said:</p> + +<p>"I'm going in to do the business with Pompey, until you get well."</p> + +<p>The expression of languid suffering left the face of Brinton, as he +asked, "What are you going to do with him?"</p> + +<p>"Do what you did with him—or try to."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you may do it, Rounders."</p> + +<p>"If I knew the 'meat jerk,' I don't know but I might try that on him."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Rounders," said the reclining man, "I have a word to say to +you. You tried to get Sally Stubbs away from me; for that I didn't like +you. But what you have done to-night wipes that out, and puts something +to the credit side of your account. This being the case, let me give you +this advice: Don't try the 'meat-jerk,' and when you go into Pompey, go +at him before he has time to think."</p> + +<p>Brinton was left in the town where he met with his mishap, under charge +of the doctor, and the train moved on to the next village, where +Rounders was to make his first appearance as a performer. He had faith +in hot iron, and as soon as he got inside of the cage door he went to +Pompey with the magic wand. The animal stood a moment and lashed his +tail, when Rounders quickly frizzled his nose before he had time for +reflection; then he gave way, retreating to one end. Here Rounders +strode toward him with his whip and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> gave him a cut, returned to the +middle of the cage, and stamped his foot as he had seen Brinton do. The +animal hesitated. Rounders stamped his foot again and raised his whip; +then Pompey jumped over his shoulder and up and down the ends of the car +in the traditional fashion. The new tamer pulled open his jaws, lay down +between his paws, and stood over him with a foot on his neck in sign of +victory. After which he bowed and retired. This was the whole +performance as far as the lions were concerned, the others—Cleopatra +and Brutus—being simply exhibited.</p> + +<p>"Not bad for a beginner," said the manager when he came out of the cage. +Miss Stubbs, who was standing by in short cloud-like skirts and +flesh-colored tights, said something more handsome, being in closer +sympathy with Rounders than the manager.</p> + +<p>For two or three weeks Rounders continued to go through a performance +like the initiatory one, but at the end of that time his ambition moved +him to do something more. Pompey was tractable, and he determined to +attempt the "meat-jerk." He had not forgotten the advice of Brinton, but +he thought it was given through jealousy. He communicated his +determination to the manager, who told him if he thought he could do it, +to go ahead, for the managerial mind was absorbed with the idea of +additional attraction. He also informed Miss Stubbs of his project, who +exhibited more solicitude, and her first impulse was to dissuade the +ambitious Rounders from the undertaking. Under such circumstances men +are not inclined to heed the words of women, and in this instance +Rounders did not. His principal aim in making the communication was to +elicit information. She knew Brinton perhaps better than any one else in +the company. Couldn't she give him some "points"? Alas! she had no +"points" to give, for, however expansive Brinton may have been under +Cupid's influence, he was as close as an oyster in what related to his +profession, as has already been said. There was but one course left for +Rounders to pursue, which was to play a close imitation of Brinton.</p> + +<p>The night of the representation came. The first part of the lion +performance passed off, and the second was at hand. The sweat stood on +the forehead of Rounders in drops as it had on that of Brinton when +Rounders saw him on the night of his irresolution. He issued from the +little tent-chamber, with a piece of meat in each hand, as he had seen +Brinton do. Miss Stubbs stood at the door of the cage in her +professional costume, with the magic wand in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Jim Rounders," said she solemnly, "keep cool. If you lose your presence +of mind, you're gone."</p> + +<p>"All right, Sally Stubbs," said he reassuringly as he opened the door +and went in with the two pieces of meat. The hungry animal jumped to his +feet and switched his tail. He smelt the meat. Rounders threw him a +piece, which he seized with the voracity common to lions, and began to +eat, growling between each bite. Rounders eyed the menacing beast for a +few moments, as it fed, then approached and put out his hand, at which +there was a louder and more threatening growl. It was the growl of +warning. A low feminine voice reached Rounders's ear from the cage door, +which said,</p> + +<p>"Jim Rounders, don't do it." But Rounders was not a man to renounce a +project when it was once lodged in his head; and he boldly reached down +to take hold of the meat on which Pompey was feeding. A gurgling growl, +rising to a high key, was the response, and a spring. Rounders was down +and the beast on top of him. At that moment the cage door flew open. +Sally Stubbs ran with the magic wand against the beast and stuck it into +his mouth, and as it went in, the act sounded like putting a steak on +the fire. She caught the prostrate man by the arm, and drew him behind +her with her free hand, and thus holding him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> she dragged him backing +toward the door, holding out her rod in front to prevent a renewal of +the attack. The two got out safe together. On examination it was found +that Rounders had sustained no other injury than some severe bruises.</p> + +<p>"No more of that, Rounders," said the manager. "I don't want the +prospects of my show ruined by a tragedy. You have had a narrow escape. +Let it be a lesson to you not to undertake a thing you don't +understand."</p> + +<p>Rounders's first act after the rescue was to kiss Miss Stubbs on both +cheeks, saying as he did so,</p> + +<p>"Sally Stubbs, you are the only one of the kind."</p> + +<p>"<i>Mister</i> Rounders," said she, pertly pushing him back, "none of them +liberties with me. I may be foolish enough to go into a cage after you, +but I'm not foolish enough to suffer them things."</p> + +<p>After that there was no performance with the lions for over a week, +during which Rounders was despondent. He was still occupied with the +extraordinary feat of removing meat from under the jaws of a feeding +lion. It pursued him night and day, and he told Miss Stubbs that he +would never be happy until he found out the secret.</p> + +<p>At length Brinton overtook the company, having come by railway. He was +completely restored, and as anxious to begin again as the manager to +have him do so. He was informed of the accident which had befallen him +who had attempted to walk in his traces. He turned to Rounders saying,</p> + +<p>"Now I suppose you'll own that I wanted to do you a good turn."</p> + +<p>"I acknowledge it—I was presumptuous and wanted tapping," answered +Rounders with proper humility.</p> + +<p>"As I told you before," continued Brinton, "I owe you something. Sit +down here and let me talk to you."</p> + +<p>Brinton picked up a piece of shingle, took out his knife, and whittled +as the two sat down together.</p> + +<p>"You want to learn the business, but you begin at the wrong end. You +don't know much about lion nature, and you want to do the high art in +the profession on sight. A man must creep before he can walk. Now, you +tried to begin by walking, and you know what came of it."</p> + +<p>This was a specimen of a bit of the talk given for the benefit and +guidance of the lion-tamer <i>en herbe</i>, and by the time Brinton got +through with his advice, his words had a salutary effect, at least for +the time being.</p> + +<p>There was a smouldering gleam of vengeance in the eye of Brinton when he +entered the cage for the first time after his accident, which brightened +almost into a flame as he bore down on Brutus with the hot rod. He +persistently thrust it at him; the great cog-wheel growls issued from +his throat, and he tried to break down the rod with his paw; then he +ingloriously fled around the cage as Brinton chased him with his whip. +This was accompanied with curses low but intense, which would have +shocked the Christian spectators of the assembly had they heard them.</p> + +<p>In playing the drama, Brinton took the precaution to have put in the +centre of the cage, as part of the decorations, a stump of a tree, which +was hollow, and contained a navy revolver and a bowie-knife. When he +gave the command to Brutus to leap forward against the spears, Brinton +stood alongside of the stump with one hand inside of it, his forefinger +playing with the trigger of the revolver. The apprehension of a +recurrence of the critical scene which has been narrated was however +groundless. Brutus dutifully leaped forward and smashed the brittle +spears, without hesitation, and calmly suffered himself to be embraced +as a "noble beast" afterward.</p> + +<p>The "meat-jerk" was given with the success which usually characterized +it in the hands of Brinton, the applause being enthusiastic.</p> + +<p>"And yet," said Rounders to Miss Stubbs, as they both stood looking at +the performance, "he does it just as I tried to do it. How easy and +natural! As he says, it's high art."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't think it's anything to be compared to standin' on my +cream-colored horse and jumping through the balloons."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Sally Stubbs, we can't see these things with the same eyes," said +Rounders, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>Miss Stubbs noted that sigh as she had the other sighs to which Rounders +gave himself over ever since his failure. She was persuaded that the man +was incorrigible, unless that particular mystery was unfolded to him.</p> + +<p>One day, as the caravan wound the shoulder of a steep hill, the horses +drawing the wagon containing Brutus shied at some object in the woods, +which precipitated horses and wagon down an embankment of twelve or +fifteen feet. The outside woodwork broke in several places, and the +shock knocked the door of the cage open. The driver jumped up unhurt, +but consternation was depicted on his face when his eyes turned toward +the cage. Brutus was standing on the ground lashing his sides with anger +at the bruises which he had received from the fall. Word went along the +caravan that the lion was out; all the vehicles stopped, and several of +the company's people ran to the brow of the embankment and looked down +on the scene of the catastrophe and the infuriated lion. Brinton, who +was riding in a buggy a short distance ahead of the wagon of Brutus, +jumped out and ran back to the spot where the disaster had just taken +place. He held in his hand an ordinary whip used in driving a buggy. +With this he approached the angry animal, the people falling back. When +he got near him he raised his whip menacingly. The brute made the quick +bound for which he is known, and struck him down, his claws sinking deep +into vital parts. He called out the name of Brutus with a groan. At this +juncture the animal discovered that it was his master, as he quickly +snuffed his prostrate person. That day Brinton had put on a new suit of +clothes, and when he ran toward the animal it was evident he had not +recognized him. Brinton lay unconscious on the ground, the animal not +making any further attack after his discovery of the identity. The brute +did not betray any sorrow at what he had done, nor did he give any proof +of affection. He simply became indifferent, and while he was in this +state, Rounders enticed him into another cage by the display of a piece +of meat, and as soon as he got him in, he jumped out and locked the +door.</p> + +<p>The wounded man was picked up and conveyed to a neighboring farmhouse, +Rounders being one of those who carried him. In proceeding to the house +he revived, and when they reached it, they carefully placed him on a +couch. The nearest physician was sent for, he living two or three miles +away. Making an effort to control the manifestation of suffering, +Brinton requested all to leave the room except Rounders. His request was +complied with. He asked Rounders to sit down alongside of him, as he +could not speak loud, and he wanted to reserve his strength.</p> + +<p>"Jim Rounders," said he with a softened expression of the eyes, "I have +something to say to you, and I want to say it before it is too late. +There was no use sending for the doctor—I won't be here long."</p> + +<p>At this Rounders offered a consolatory word to inspire hope, but Brinton +understood with what intent it was uttered and took no notice of it.</p> + +<p>"Jim Rounders," pursued he, "I owe you something, and I want to pay you +before I die. It's about the 'meat-jerk.'"</p> + +<p>Naturally the curiosity of Rounders was eager.</p> + +<p>"Like all great inventions," continued the tamer, "it's as simple as A, +B, C when you know how it's done."</p> + +<p>The secret, as explained by the sinking man, was in substance as +follows: It is a work of several months. You begin by giving the lion a +large piece of meat, and when he has polished it to the bone, you give +another piece, and when he fastens on that you pick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> up the bone. After +awhile you will be able to take the bone from under his mouth as you +slip the other piece of meat in its place. In time he gets to know that +when you take the first piece away from him, though it should be only +half finished, it is to be replaced by a larger piece. Gradually you let +a little time pass between the taking away and the giving, which he will +get accustomed to. This is the time you bow to the audience as if the +feat were finished, and when you give the second piece in an indifferent +manner, as if it were of no importance, the public will not see through +it.</p> + +<p>"Just as you did not see through it," to resume the words of Brinton, +"though you watched me like a hawk."</p> + +<p>"How simple!" said the enthusiastic listener.</p> + +<p>"So simple," continued the wounded man with effort, "I'm sure you wonder +to yourself you never thought of it before."</p> + +<p>Here he gasped for breath. After a pause he gathered himself together +for another effort, and went on.</p> + +<p>"You tried it on Pompey. He was never trained, and of course you failed. +If you are afraid of handling Brutus, you can train Pompey—as I did +Brutus."</p> + +<p>The tamer stopped again to get breath, and the pause was longer than +those which preceded it. He was weak unto death. The faint reflection of +a smile flitted over his features as he said in a hoarse whisper,</p> + +<p>"My last performance now—no postponement—on account of the weather."</p> + +<p>After another long pause, in the same hoarse whisper, he said,</p> + +<p>"This secret—will be a fortune—to you, Jim Rounders. Now shake +hands—and let—me die."</p> + +<p>And two hands clasped. One was warm, and pulsating with vigorous life, +but the other was dead. As Rounders held the lifeless one in his, he +resolved to renounce the ungrateful profession; but after the burial of +the dead tamer, the ruling passion took possession of him again, and he +did not rest until he had performed the "meat-jerk" with Brutus. Indeed, +he was not satisfied to walk in the footsteps of Brinton, but became in +his turn a creator of a Biblical drama, which he called "Daniel in the +Lion's Den."</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Albert Rhodes.</span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_WOMANS_GIFTS" id="A_WOMANS_GIFTS"></a>A WOMAN'S GIFTS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">First I would give thee—nay, I may and will,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thoughts, memory, prayers, a sacred wealth unguessed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul's own glad and beautiful bequest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Conveyed in voiceless reverence, deep and still,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As angels give their thoughts and prayers to God!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Next I would yield, in service freely made,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All of my days and years, thy needs to fill;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To bear or heavy cross, or thorny rod,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Glad of my bondage, deeming it most meet:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, mystery of love, as strange as sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That love from its own wealth should be repaid!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Last, I would give thee, if it pleased thee so,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And for thy pleasure, wishing it increased,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My woman's beauty, heart and lips aglow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this, dear, last—so soon its charm must fade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is, indeed, of all my gifts, the least!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">Mary Ainge DeVere.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="THE_MODERN_PYTHIA" id="THE_MODERN_PYTHIA"></a>THE MODERN PYTHIA.</h2> + + +<p>The arraignment of Dr. Slade, the spiritual medium, before a London +magistrate, on a charge of vagrancy, suggests the rather trite remark +that "history repeats itself."</p> + +<p>Spiritualism is literally "as old as the hills." Lying in a manner +dormant through long years, it has had its periodical outcroppings; as, +when absolutely prohibited by an edict of Israel's first king, B. C. +1060; when it was abjured by the Council of Ancyra of Galatia, in A. D. +314; and again when ranking highest among the popular delusions of a +people boasting of their civilization and culture, in the year of our +Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six.</p> + +<p>Having its foundations in truth, there have not been found wanting, in +the remote past as in the present, unscrupulous persons ready to erect +on those foundations the most stupendous frauds.</p> + +<p>The mental phenomena which have given rise to what is called +spiritualism are daily exhibited in some form or other in the life and +experience of almost every one. But the simplest and perhaps the most +interesting method of exhibition is by means of the little toy called +Planchette; a brief account of some experiments with which will best +serve to illustrate the nature of the phenomena in question.</p> + +<p>The writer and a lady friend placing the tips of their fingers lightly +on the board, the following words were traced on the paper upon which it +was placed:</p> + +<p>"Have you courage for the future?"</p> + +<p>"Will you not faint by the roadside?"</p> + +<p>"You will be beset by foes within and without."</p> + +<p>"Lions in your pathway."</p> + +<p>"Hope and trust—trust—trust."</p> + +<p>On being asked to whom this applied, it answered:</p> + +<p>"The heart that needs it will understand."</p> + +<p>A question was then put by a bystander; but instead of answering, it +went on as though continuing the former train of thought:</p> + +<p>"Hope and trust. You will have trials you know not of." And again, "Hope +and trust."</p> + +<p>Here another question was put by a bystander, but instead of answer came +the words:</p> + +<p>"You will find important letters awaiting you from home. Hope and +trust."</p> + +<p>I then asked: "To whom are these words addressed?"</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Soon enough you will know. Hope and trust.</p> + +<p>To a question given mentally by a bystander it answered:</p> + +<p>"Letters awaiting you. Hope and trust."</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Letters from whom?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Your home and family.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—From what place?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Soon enough you will know.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Are they all well at home?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—With God all things are well.</p> + +<p>Not being able to decipher this clearly, it repeated:</p> + +<p>"With God all things are well. Trust Him."</p> + +<p>I confess to having been impressed with these words, so solemn were +they, so oracular, and, as it then appeared, so fitly spoken. At the +time of making these experiments I was on board one of the Pacific Mail +steamships, on my way to San Francisco; and I had reason to be +particularly solicitous in regard to my future. But my companion, in +these my first experiments, just entering a new and untried field, had +far more cause of anxiety than myself in regard to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> future. To her +these warnings seemed singularly applicable. Satisfied that my +coöperator exercised no voluntary control over the board, absolutely +certain the words were not emanations of my own mind, and impelled by +curiosity, I determined to try the effect of a few test questions, and, +ridiculous as it may appear, ascertain from the instrument itself +something of its nature.</p> + +<p>Is there any power in Planchette, or is it merely a vehicle? I asked.</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Inactive bodies have no active agency.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Whence come the words of Planchette—whence her intelligence?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—From the seat of intelligence in the one who commands me.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can you foretell coming events?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—The future is not made known to man.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can you give information not in the minds of the operators?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—No, or in the mind of some one who works me.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—What distinction do you make between the operator and the +worker?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—The worker may be removed from the board.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Are you influenced by animal magnetism?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Entirely.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Are you influenced by electricity?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—One and the same.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Do the minds of the present operators influence the answers?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Undoubtedly.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Is it the result of magnetism?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—The power of giving out.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Giving out what?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Yielding magnetism.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Which of the operators influences you most?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Neither is worth without the other.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Have you communications with the spirit world?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Disembodied spirits—no.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can you be put to any practical use?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Man will be introduced to the world of science.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Is your information concerning the ordinary affairs of life of +any practical value?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Not much, unless the worker is reliable as an informant.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—What is magnetism?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Magnetism is the force of the universe.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—What is electricity?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Electricity is the outward expression of the hidden force.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Has magnetism or electricity anything to do with the polarity +of the needle?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—The interchange of magnetism throughout the entire universe.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Give a more definite answer.</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Currents are exchanged from earth to air and from planet to +planet.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Do these affect the mariner's compass?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Yes.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can we control the local attraction of the compass?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Yes.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—How? I exclaimed excitedly, as the thought flashed through my +mind that I was on the eve of a great discovery.</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—By the substitution of some other attractive force?</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Name one.</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Magnetized iron.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can the compass be so constructed as to be uninfluenced by +local attraction?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—No, inasmuch as all surroundings are themselves magnets or the +mediums of conveyance.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can the approach of storms be foretold by the amount of +electricity in the air?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Storms are the disturbance of the equilibrium, and therefore can +be foretold when the atmospherical balance is understood.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> +<p><i>Ques.</i>—Can you give information not in the minds of the operators?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Planchette is a tool, and does nothing of herself.</p> + +<p><i>Ques.</i>—A tool in the hands of whom?</p> + +<p><i>Ans.</i>—Of those who work her.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<p>Now if these various answers came from the minds of the "workers," we +were asking questions which we ourselves were answering, we will say, +unawares, out of the depths of our consciousness. As a seeker after +truth, therefore, I became as much involved as the dreamer spoken of by +Jeremy Taylor in one of his sermons. A man who implicitly believed in +dreams, he relates—in effect—dreamed one night that all dreams were +false. "If," reasoned he on awakening, "dreams are indeed false, then is +this one false; therefore they are true. But if, as I have always +supposed, they are true, then is this dream true; therefore they must be +false."</p> + +<p>Planchette's oracular sayings became famous among the passengers who +thronged the room to hear its predictions and to ask questions. The trip +to which I refer was made in the early part of November, 1868, while the +Presidential election was in progress, and there was naturally great +curiosity on the part of the passengers to know how their several States +had voted.</p> + +<p>Of the six States asked about, Planchette gave the majority in figures +for one candidate or the other. On comparing these figures subsequently +with the published returns, it was found that not one answer was +correct—<i>not a single answer was even approximately true</i>.</p> + +<p>There was a certain shipmaster on board who had left his vessel in Rio +Janeiro, with directions to the mate to bring her to San Francisco, by +way of Cape Horn. The oracle was consulted as to the position of the +ship at that particular time. Without a moment's hesitation, the +latitude and longitude of the vessel were given, placing her somewhere +off Valparaiso (Chili). "That's just where <i>I</i> put her!" cried the +master with an ejaculation of unfeigned surprise. On reaching San +Francisco shortly after, the vessel was discovered quietly tied up at +one of the wharves. I found too, on landing, that the prophecy, "You +will find important letters awaiting you from home," was not fulfilled, +neither in my case nor in that of the other "worker."</p> + +<p>Now in the case of putting down the position of the merchant vessel, the +"worker" who was operating with me at the time did not know how to plot +the position of a ship at sea, after the manner of seamen; and although +the method of stating a ship's position was perfectly familiar to me, +yet I <i>anticipated</i> that the answer in regard to her would have been +given in general and indefinite terms. What was my astonishment, then, +to find distinctly written out, "Latitude 35 deg. 30 min. S.; longitude +98 deg. 40 min. W." True this position was about four thousand miles out +of the way, but where did the answer, such as it was, come from?</p> + +<p>Continued experiments proved that in every instance where Planchette +attempted to foretell an event, it failed ignominiously; and while it +replied to questions with the utmost effrontery, it was rarely correct, +unless indeed, as it shrewdly said itself, "the worker was reliable as +an informant."</p> + +<p>Many months after these experiments, I found myself on the shores of +southern France. Here my associations were entirely different from those +I had known in the far-off Pacific, and, desirous of ascertaining how +Planchette would comport itself under the change of conditions, I +essayed further trials.</p> + +<p>It will be sufficient to give one example of the answers given:</p> + +<p>"What should one do," it was asked, "when life becomes unbearable?" The +answer was contained in one word, but written in such a scrawl as to be +illegible. The question was repeated,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> when the same word apparently was +written in reply, but still illegible. The question was put a third +time, when Planchette, with great energy, wrote in bold characters, and +distinct, the word PRAY. On comparing this with the former answers, they +were found to be the same.</p> + +<p>The question, however, is not as to the degree of faith to be placed in +the words of Planchette, but why should it write at all?</p> + +<p>In attempting to answer this question, I shall confine myself mainly to +the field of daily experience, and draw illustrations from such works +only as are familiar to the great majority of readers.</p> + +<p>Our twofold nature has often been noticed and commented upon. It has +been said that we are possessed of two separate and distinct characters: +the outward, which we present to the world, and with which we are in +some degree familiar ourselves, and that inner, deeper part of which we +know so little.</p> + +<p>St. Paul reveals the existence of our dual nature when he exclaims with +passionate fervor, "The good that I would I do not, but the evil which I +would not, that do I. I delight in the law of God after the <i>inner man</i>, +but I see <i>another law in my members</i> warring against the law of my +mind." Xenophon gives, in the Cyropedia, a remarkable speech, expressing +almost precisely the same idea. Araspes, a young nobleman of Media, is +overwhelmed with mortification on being detected by Cyrus in an +indiscretion in regard to a captive princess. Chided by Cyrus, "Alas," +said he, "now I am come to a knowledge of myself, and find most plainly +that I have two souls: one that inclines me to good, another that +incites me to evil ..."—the animal versus the spiritual nature, +referred to by St. Paul.</p> + +<p>In another place St. Paul, speaking of the "Word of God," says it is +"quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even +to the <i>dividing asunder of soul and spirit</i>, and of the joints and +marrow...." Heb. iv. 12. Hence we may term the two elements of our +duality <i>soul</i> and <i>spirit</i>, they being two separate and distinct +entities.</p> + +<p>The learned Doctor Whedon, in commenting on the forty-fourth verse of +the fifteenth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians, where the +great apostle speaks of the resurrection, says the expression natural +body, as distinct from spiritual body, fails utterly to convey to the +mind of the English reader the apostle's true idea. "If," he says, "we +assume a difference between soul and spirit, and coin the word +<i>soulical</i> as the antithesis of <i>spiritual</i>, we present his exact idea. +The Greek word <i>psyche</i>, soul or life, when used as antithetical to +<i>pneuma</i>, spirit, signifies that animating, formative, and thinking soul +or <i>anima</i> which belongs to the animal, and which man, as animal, shares +as his lower nature with other animals. Its range is within the limits +of the five senses, within which limits it is able to think and to +reason. Such is the power of the highest animals. Overlying this is the +spirit which man shares with higher natures, by which thought transcends +the range of the senses, and man thinks of immensity, eternity, +infinity, immortality, the beautiful, the holy, and God—it is certain +that man's mind possesses both these classes or sets of thought." Now in +regard to the higher of these elements, there are very many well +authenticated cases where the extreme susceptibility of the mind (the +seat of these elements) to outward impressions, and the reaction of the +mental sensation on the nervous system, has led to the most singular +and, in some instances, even fatal results. So marvellously delicate is +this portion of our organization, that we are not always conscious of +this reaction, and as the reaction is conveyed from the nerve centres to +the muscular tissue, we actually find ourselves uttering words or making +motions unconsciously. So sensitive is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> the brain through the influence +of this higher nature, so subtle its functions, that it is often +impressed by means indiscernible to the bodily eye or to the ordinary +senses—by means just as mysterious as the action of magnetic attraction +or the course of the electric wave.</p> + +<p>Byron alludes to this exquisite susceptibility with no less of truth +than beauty:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And slight withal may be the things which bring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Back on the heart the weight which it would fling<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Aside for ever; it may be a sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tone of music, summer's eve or spring,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound</i>.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And how or why we know not, <i>nor can trace</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Home to its cloud this lightning of the wind</i> ...<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Having referred to the reaction of a mental sensation on the nervous +system, let us now examine the course by which the reaction proceeds.</p> + +<p>We are told by physiologists that stimuli applied to the nerves in +certain cases induce contraction or motion in the muscles by direct +conduction of a stimulus along a nerve, or by the conduction of a +stimulus to a nervous centre, whence it is reflected along another nerve +to the muscles. Not only mechanical and electrical, but <i>psychical</i> +stimuli "excite the nerves, whether these are ideational, emotional, or +volitional. They proceed from the brain, being themselves sometimes +induced by external causes, and sometimes originating primarily in the +great nervous centres from the <i>operations of the instinct, the memory, +the reason, or the will</i>."</p> + +<p>When a stimulus of any kind, whether mechanical, chemical, electrical, +or vital, acts upon the living nervous substance, it produces an +impression on that nerve substance and excites within it some particular +change, and the property by which this takes place in the nerve +substance has been called its excitability or neurility. But the nerve +substance not only receives such an impression from a stimulus and is +excited to such a change, but it possesses the property of conducting +that impression in certain definite directions, and this property might +be spoken of as conductility.</p> + +<p>When such an impression is thus conducted simply along a nerve fibre, +and thence to a muscle, it induces or excites, as we have seen, the +contraction of that muscle, and so exercises what is called a <i>motor</i> +function.</p> + +<p>The nerve cells appear to possess, beyond the simple excitability to +general stimuli, conductility, and the peculiar receptivity which is +essential to sensation, a special or more exalted kind of excitability +which is called into play under mental or psychical stimuli by the +changes produced in the gray matter<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> in the formation of ideas, +emotions, and the will.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Now if two sympathetic nerve systems operated upon by psychical stimuli +be directed to one and the same point, it is by no means difficult to +understand how the brains belonging to those systems may be brought into +telegraphic communication by means of the nerve fibres, the product of +the two minds evolved, and the resultant idea, by means of a simple +mechanical contrivance operated upon by the motor function already +explained, be transmitted to paper by the process of writing so familiar +to both. The action of the psychical stimuli on the nerve fibre, and its +transmission thence to the muscles resulting in the movement of the +board, is so subtle that we ourselves are not aware of its operation +except through the results produced.</p> + +<p>It has just been said that two minds may be brought into telegraphic +communication by means of nerve fibres. Let us see how far the +expression is justified by facts. There are few of us who have not +experienced the truth of Solomon's saying that "if two persons lie +together, they have <i>heat</i>; but how can one be warm alone?" Even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> the +close proximity of two persons affects their respective temperatures, +and heat and motion we know to be correlative. It has been shown by the +physicist that mechanical force producing motion is correlative with and +convertible into heat, heat into chemical force, chemical force into +electrical force, and electrical force into magnetic force. Moreover, +that each of these is correlative and convertible into the other, all +being thus interchangeable.</p> + +<p>"Now it is not to be supposed that the force acting in a nerve is +identical with electrical force, nor yet a peculiar kind of electricity, +nor even physically induced by it, as magnetism may be, but that in the +special action of the living nerve a force is generated peculiar to that +tissue, which is so correlated with electricity that an equivalent of +the one may in some yet unknown manner excite, give rise to, or even be +converted into the other. In this concatenation of the several forces of +nature, physical and vital, the force acting in a nerve may also be +correlated with chemical force, with the heat developed in the muscle, +and even with the peculiar molecular motions which produce muscular +contraction and all its accompanying physical and mechanical +consequences." If, then, two brains, one in London and one in New York, +may be brought into communication with each other through their +respective nerve systems and the common medium of the electric wire, and +both brought to bear on one idea—say the rate of exchange, consols, or +the price of gold—is it to be wondered at that two other brains, in +close proximity, may be brought into communication through the media of +the nerve fibres which are operated upon by a force so similar to that +which courses along the electric wire? Or is it strange that the two +sympathetic minds—two minds having a strong affinity for each +other—should combine and generate ideas? and having produced them, is +it strange they should give them expression in writing? Before the days +of Franklin, this might indeed appear strange, but it surely cannot be +so considered now.</p> + +<p>Such, then, is the rationale of what may be termed the automatic +writing, by means of Planchette, and such writing is simply a +manifestation of what has been named psychic force. Whether operated by +one or two persons, the rationale is the same.</p> + +<p>There is reason to believe that the phenomenon just explained was known +to the ancients, and that it was the origin of the oracles which formed +so important a feature, at one period, in the history of Greece; such, +for example, as the "Whispering Groves of Dodona," and the yet more +famous oracle of Delphi.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> It is worthy of remark that these oracles +were not established at the first by the Greeks themselves. They were of +<i>foreign</i> origin, having been first introduced from Egypt, then the seat +of learning.</p> + +<p>The secret of psychic force having been once discovered, it may easily +be conceived how it would be seized upon as a means of communicating, as +the pagans supposed, with beings of another world, and how readily the +more enlightened and designing would avail themselves of it as a means +to practise upon the credulity of a superstitious people. Such were the +cunning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> priesthood in the temples of pagan worship. They were quick to +take advantage of a discovery that offered so powerful a leverage, and +having once secured its services, they did not scruple to shape the +utterances to suit their own selfish ends. Frequently their answers were +so framed as to admit of a double interpretation.</p> + +<p>Crœsus consulted the oracle of Delphi on the success that would +attend his invasion of the Medes. He was told that by passing the river +Halys a great empire would be ruined. He crossed, and the fall of his +own empire fulfilled the prophecy. Sometimes they were couched in vague +and mysterious terms, leaving those who solicited advice to put whatever +construction upon them their hopes or fears suggested. Compare, for +example, the first specimen of writing given in this article with the +descriptions we read in ancient history of the utterances of the Delphic +oracle. How vague and indefinite are its warnings! and then the +continual recurrence of the solemn admonition, "Hope and trust"—does it +not seem prophetic of some evil hour, when all one's hope and faith were +to be tried to the utmost?</p> + +<p>Suppose these words had been addressed to a superstitious person by the +priestess of a temple situated in the deep recesses of a dense forest, +among the toppling crags of some lofty mountain range, or near the +gloomy habitations of the dead: it could not have failed of making a +serious impression upon the mind. It was thus that the pagan priesthood +threw about their oracles everything that could inspire the mind of the +visitor with a sense of awe. We are told that the "sacred tripod" was +placed over the mouth of a cave whence proceeded a peculiar exhalation.</p> + +<p>On this tripod sat the Pythia—the priestess of Apollo—who, having +caught the inspiration, pronounced her oracles in extempore prose or +verse. The cave and the exhalations were mere accessories, stage +properties as it were, the more readily to impose upon those who came +to consult the oracle. So of the "sacred tripod," which was the symbol +merely of the real instrument which had given birth to this system of +fraud.</p> + +<p>Planchette, the "sacred tripod" of the ancients, uses language of +various styles. Sometimes it will not deign to speak at all; sometimes +its answers are vague and unmeaning; sometimes singularly concise and +pertinent.</p> + +<p>A very striking point of similarity is the occasional irrelevancy of the +answers. Tisamenus, soothsayer to the Greek army, consulted the oracle +at Delphi concerning his lack of offspring, when he was told by the +Pythia that he would win five glorious combats; and when Battus asked +about his voice he was told "to establish a city in Libya abounding in +fleeces." Such freaks are common with the modern Pythia. The resemblance +is complete.</p> + +<p>It is to the development of psychical force, as shown by Planchette, +that the phenomena known as mesmerism and the so-called spiritualism are +undoubtedly due. In some persons this force is found to exist +abnormally, when its manifestations are certainly extraordinary. The +trouble is that we are not always satisfied with its feeble and +uncertain utterances, and are too often impelled by cupidity or other +equally unworthy motive to practise the charlatanism of the crafty +priests of old.</p> + +<p>In the time of Nebuchadnezzar the Chaldean priesthood, the magicians and +astrologers, and those who had understanding in all visions and dreams, +possessed all the learning of the known world. Much of their learning +was transmitted to Egypt and thence to Greece, but much of it we know +was lost to the world. From all that we can gather now, however, we may +feel assured that they were not ignorant of the existence of what has +been termed psychic force, or a sixth sense, or unconscious cerebration +(for our terminology in all speculations bordering: on the +"<i>unknowable</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> must necessarily be uncertain), and as a neighboring +people, the Israelites, communicated with their God through that medium, +they supposed, as was natural, that they could communicate with their +gods in the same way. And they were perfectly sincere in that belief. +But in the process of time and migration the theology of the Greeks came +to bear little resemblance to that of the Chaldeans. The dignity of the +priestly office and the influence of the priesthood became greatly +diminished. That the religion of these several nations had one common +origin, and that the priests and prophets of God's chosen people had +many imitators among other nations, there is abundant proof.</p> + +<p>The story of the origin of the Pythia, for example, contains points not +without resemblance to certain passages in our own early sacred history. +The Son of God is at enmity with the serpent; the serpent pursues a +woman, and is trodden under foot by the Son. Zeus is the god of the +Greeks; Apollo is his son; Leto—or Latona—is pursued by Python, the +serpent, and is slain by Apollo. To commemorate this deed a temple was +erected at Delhi to Apollo, and the priestess was called the Pythia. +Regarded as the symbol of wisdom by the Egyptians, the serpent came to +be considered by the Greeks as representing the principle of evil.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> +Ages before this, however, the history of our first parents, the +temptation, and the fall, and the prophecy that the Son should bruise +the serpent's head, had been recorded. The wonderful Chaldeans too had +mapped out the same story among the eternal stars, their great designs +being still traceable on the celestial globes of our common schools.</p> + +<p>But the intellectual Greek was not long to be imposed upon. Men who +could discourse on the immortality of the soul had not much faith in the +nonsense often put forth by a priestess of Apollo. Themistocles made a +tool of the oracle in order to serve his own purposes, and Demosthenes +publicly denounced it. Convinced that the oracle was subsidized by +Philip of Macedon, and instructed to speak in his favor, he boldly +declared that the Pythia <i>philippized</i>, and bade the Athenians and +Thebans remember that "Pericles and Epaminondas, instead of listening to +the frivolous answers of the oracle, the resort of the ignorant and +cowardly, consulted only reason in the choice of their measures."</p> + +<p>Had there been a London magistrate at hand in the days of the great +Athenian orator, it would certainly have gone hard with the poor Pythia.</p> + +<p>No observer of human nature can doubt that we are bound by an "electric +chain," and that we are liable to impressions, the sources of which are +often unknown to us. Nor can we doubt that there have been abnormally +sensitive persons, like Swedenborg, whose receptivity was such that the +brain could be impressed by means which would entirely fail with the +normal brain. But in respect to the professional mediums, +notwithstanding the antiquity of the class and their many advocates, it +remains to be shown where they have been of the slightest practical +utility, or served any good or useful end. Nay more. It remains to be +shown wherein the modern medium is entitled to a particle more of +respect than the medium of Endor.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">S. B. Luce.</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> This answer is the more remarkable from the fact that my +mind was intent upon the revelation of some new theory, while the other +operator was not at all familiar with the subject. The simplicity of the +answer, and its statement of what had been the common practice for years +past, made me feel for the moment that I had been very cleverly +hoaxed.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> In every instance the writing of Planchette has been copied +<i>verbatim</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> The gray matter of the nervous centres, the precise nature +of which is unknown.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> "Outlines of Physiology."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> There is no doubt that spirit-writing is very ancient, +China alone furnishing sufficient evidence of the fact. +</p><p> +"Spirit-writing," says Taylor, "is of two kinds, according as it is done +with or without a material instrument. The first kind is in full +practice in China, where, like other rites of divination, it is probably +ancient. It is called 'descending of the pencil,' and is especially used +by the literary classes. When a Chinese wishes to consult a god in this +way, he sends for a professional medium. Before the image of the god are +set candles and incense, and an offering of tea or mock money. In front +of this on another table is placed an oblong tray of dry sand. The +writing instrument is a V-shaped wooden handle, two or three feet long, +with a wooden tooth fixed at its point. Two persons hold this +instrument, each grasping one leg of it, and the point resting on the +sand. Proper prayers and charms induce the god to manifest his presence +by a movement of the point in the sand, and thus the response is +written, and there only remains the somewhat difficult and doubtful task +of deciphering it...."—<i>"Primitive Culture." By Ed. B. Taylor. Vol. I., +p. 133.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> The serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field; +"Be ye wise as serpents."—<i>Bible.</i></p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ALNASCHAR" id="ALNASCHAR"></a>ALNASCHAR.</h2> + +<h3>1876.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Here's yer toy balloons! All sizes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twenty cents for that. It rises<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jest as quick as that 'ere, Miss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twice as big. Ye see it is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some more fancy. Make it square<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fifty for 'em both. That's fair.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That's the sixth I've sold since noon.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Trade's reviving. Just as soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As this lot's worked off I'll take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wholesale figgers. Make or break,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's my motto! Then I'll buy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some first-class lottery:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One half ticket, numbered right—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As I dreamed about last night.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That'll fetch it. Don't tell me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When a man's in luck, you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All things help him. Every chance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hits him like an avalanche.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here's your toy balloons, Miss. Eh?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You won't turn your face this way?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mebbe you'll be glad some day!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">With that clear ten-thousand prize<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This yer trade I'll drop, and rise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Into wholesale. No! I'll take<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stocks in Wall street. Make or break,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That's my motto! With my luck,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where's the chance of being stuck?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Call it Sixty Thousand, clear,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Made in Wall street in one year.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sixty thousand! Umph! Let's see.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bond and mortgage'll do for me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good. That gal that passed me by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Scornful like—why, mebbe I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some day'll hold in pawn—why not?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All her father's prop. She'll spot<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's my little game, and see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What I'm after's her. He! he!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He! he! When she comes to sue—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let's see. What's the thing to do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kick her? No! There's the perliss!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sorter throw her off like this!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hello! Stop! Help! Murder! Hey!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There's my whole stock got away!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kiting on the house tops! Lost!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All a poor man's fortin! Cost?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twenty dollars! Eh! What's this?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fifty cents! God bless ye, Miss!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">Bret Harte.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AUT_DIABOLUS_AUT_NIHIL" id="AUT_DIABOLUS_AUT_NIHIL"></a>AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL.</h2> + +<h3>THE TRUE STORY OF A HALLUCINATION.</h3> + + +<p>The career of the Abbé Gérard had been an eminently successful +one—successful in every way; and even he himself was forced to +acknowledge it to be so as he reviewed his past life, sitting by a +blazing fire in his comfortable apartment in the Rue Miromeuil previous +to dressing for the Duc de Frontignan's dinner-party. Born of poor +parents in the south of France, entering the priesthood at an early age, +having received but a meagre education, and that chiefly confined to a +superficial knowledge of the most elementary treatises on theology, he +had, in twenty-five years, and solely by his own exertions, unaided by +patronage, obtained a most desirable berth in one of the leading Paris +churches, thereby becoming the recipient of a handsome salary and being +enabled to indulge his tastes as a dilettante and <i>homme du monde</i>. The +few hours snatched from those absorbed by his parochial duties he had +ever devoted to study, and his application and determination had borne +him golden fruit. Moreover, he had so cultivated his mind, and made such +good use of the rare opportunities afforded him in early life of +associating with gentlemen, that when now at length he found his +presence in demand at every house in the "Faubourg" where wit and +graceful learning were appreciated, no one would ever have suspected he +had not been bred according to the strictest canons of social +refinement.</p> + +<p>But in his upward progress such had been his experience of life that +when, during the brief intervals of breathing time he allowed himself, +he would look below and above, he was forced to confess that at every +step a belief, an illusion had been destroyed and trodden under foot, +and he would wonder, while bracing himself for a new effort, how it +would all end, and whether the mitre he lusted for would not after all, +perhaps, be placed upon a head that doubted even the existence of a God. +He was not a bad man, but merely one of that class who have embraced the +priesthood merely as a means of raising themselves from obscurity to +eminence, and have in their intercourse with the world discovered many +flaws and blemishes in what they may at one time have considered +perfect. When his reason rejected many of the fables hitherto cherished +and believed in, the Abbé Gérard was at the beginning inclined to +abandon in despair the attempt to discern the true from the false, and +this all the more that he saw the time thus spent was, in a worldly +sense,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> but wasted, and that the good things of this world come to such +reapers as gather wheat and tares alike, well knowing there is a market +for them both.</p> + +<p>During a certain period, therefore, of his struggle upward, while his +worldly ambition was aiding by sly insinuations and comparisons the +deadly work already begun by the destruction of his dreams, Henri Gérard +was nigh being an atheist. But the nature of the man was too finely +sensual for this phase to be lasting, and when at length he found +himself so far successful in his worldly aspirations as to be tolerably +sure of their complete fulfilment; when at length he found time to +examine spiritual matters apart from their direct bearing upon his +social altitude, his æsthetic sense—which by this time had necessarily +developed—he was struck by the exquisite <i>beauty</i> of Christianity, and +thus, as a shallow philosophy had nearly induced him to become an +atheist, a deep and sensual spirit of sentimentality nearly made him a +Christian. His Madonna was the Madonna of Raphael, not that of Albert +Dürer: the woman whose placid grace of countenance creates an emotion +more subtly voluptuous than desire; not she in whose face can be +discerned the human mother of the Man of Sorrows and of Him divinely +acquainted with all grief. The Holy Spirit he adored was not the Friend +of the broken-hearted or the Healer of the blind Bartimœus, but He +"who feedeth among the lilies"—the Alpha and Omega of all æsthetic +conception. Christianity he looked upon as the highest moral expression +of artistic perfection, and he regarded it with the same admiration he +accorded to the Antinous and the Venus of Milo. He was not, however, by +nature a pagan as some men are—men who, in the words of De Musset, +"Sont venu trop tard dans un monde trop vieux"; but the atmosphere in +which his early years had been spent had been so antagonistic to the +impulses of his nature, his inner life had been so cramped in and +starved, that when at length the key of gold opening the prison door let +in the outer air, his spirit revelled in all the wild extravagance so +often accompanying sudden and long wished-for emancipation. His nature +was perhaps not one that could have been attuned to a perfect harmony +with that of a Greek or Roman of the golden days, but one better +calculated to enjoy the hybrid atmosphere of the Italian Renaissance; +and he would have been in his element in the Rucellai Gardens, +conversing with feeble little Cosimino, or laughing with Buondelmonte +and Luigi Alamanni. He did not believe in the narrative of the Bible, +but its precepts and tendencies he appreciated and admired, although, it +must be confessed, he did not always put himself out to follow them. In +his heart he utterly rejected all idea of a future life, since it was +incompatible with his conception of the artistic unity of this; but he +would blandly acknowledge to himself that there are perhaps things we +cannot comprehend, and that beauty may have no term. He assimilated, so +far as in him lay, his duties as a priest with his ideas as a man of +culture; and his sermons were ever of love; sermons which, winged as +they were with impassioned eloquence, were deservedly popular with all: +from the scholar, who delighted in them as intellectual feasts, to the +fashionable Paris woman of the second empire, who was enchanted at +finding in the quasi-fatalistic and broadly charitable views enunciated +therein means whereby her vulgar amours might be considered in a light +more pleasing to herself and more consoling to her husband.</p> + +<p>On the Sunday afternoon preceding the evening on which we introduce him +to the reader the Abbé had departed from his usual custom, and, by +especial request of his curé, had preached a most remarkable sermon upon +the Personality of Satan. It is a vulgar error to suppose that men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +succeed best when their efforts are enlivened by a real belief in the +matter in hand. Not only some men have such a superabundance of fervid +imagination that they can, for the time being, provoke themselves into a +pseudo belief in what they know in their saner moments to be false, but +moreover a large class of men are endowed with minds so restless and so +finely strung that they can play with a sophism with marvellous +dexterity and skill, while lacking that vigorous and comprehensive grasp +of mind which the lucid exposition of a hidden truth necessitates. The +Abbé Gérard belonged a little to both these classes of beings; and +moreover, his vanity as an intellectual man provoked him to +extraordinary exertions in cases wherein he fancied he might win for +himself the glory of strengthening and verifying matters which in +themselves perhaps lacked almost the elements of existence. "Spiritual +truths," he once cynically remarked to Sainte-Beuve, whom, by the way, +he detested, "will take care of themselves; it is the nursing of +spiritual falsehood which needs all the care of the clergy." On the +Sunday in question he had surpassed himself. With biting irony he had +annihilated the disbelievers in Divine punishment, and then, with +persuasive and overwhelming eloquence, he had urged the necessity of +believing not only in hell, but in the personality of the Prince of +Evil. Women had fainted in their terror; men had been frightened into +seeking the convenient solace of the confessional, and the Archbishop +had written him a letter of the warmest thanks.</p> + +<p>It was a triumph which a man of the nature of the Abbé Gérard +particularly enjoyed. The idea of finding himself the successful reviver +of an inanimate doctrine, while secretly conscious that he was, in +reality, a skeptic in matters of dogmatically vital importance, was to a +mind so prone to delight in paradoxes eminently agreeable. It pleased +him to see the letter of the Archbishop lying upon a volume of Strauss, +and to read the glowing and extravagant praise lavished on him in the +pages of the "Univers" after having enjoyed a sparkling draught of +Voltaire.</p> + +<p>Such was the Abbé Gérard—the type of a class. The Duc de Frontignan, +with whom he was dining on the evening this story opens, was or rather +<i>is</i> in many ways a no less remarkable personage in Paris society. +Possessing rank, birth, and a splendid income, he had inherited more +than a fair share of the good gifts of Providence, being endowed not +only with considerable mental power, but with the tact to use that power +to the best advantage. Although beyond doubt <i>clever</i>, he was +universally esteemed a much more intellectual man than he really was, +and this through no voluntary deceitfulness on his part, but owing to a +method he had unconsciously adopted of exhibiting his wares with their +most favorable aspect to the front. He was well read, but not deeply +read, and yet all Paris considered him a profound scholar; he was quick +and epigrammatic in his appreciation and expression of ideas, as men of +cultivation and varied experience are apt to be, but he enjoyed the +reputation of being a wit, and finally having merely lounged through the +world, impelled by a spirit of restlessness, begotten of great wealth +and idleness, society looked upon him as a bold and adventurous +traveller. One gift he most certainly possessed: he was vastly amusing +and entertaining, and resembled in one respect the Abbé Galiani, as +described by Diderot; for he was indeed "a treasure on rainy days, and +if the cabinet-makers made such things, everybody would have one in the +country." He not only knew everybody in Paris, but he possessed an +extraordinary faculty of drawing people out, and forcing them to make +themselves amusing. No man was in his society long before he discovered +himself openly discussing his most cherished hobby, or airily +scattering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> as seed for trivial conversation the fruit of long years of +experience and reflection. His hotel in the Rue de Varenne was the +resort of all that was most remarkable and extraordinary in the +fashionable, the artistic, the diplomatic, and the scientific world. His +intimacy with the Abbé Gérard was one of long standing: they mutually +amused each other; the keen intellect of the priest found much that was +interesting in the shallow but attractive and brilliant nature of the +layman; while the Duke entertained feelings of the warmest admiration +for a man who, having risen from nothing, enlivened the most exclusive +coteries with his graceful learning and charming wit.</p> + +<p>It was one of the peculiar whims of Octave de Frontignan never to have +an even number of guests at his dinner table. His soirées indeed were +attended by hundreds, but his dinner parties rarely exceeded seven +(including himself), and in many cases he only invited two. On this +especial occasion the only guest asked to meet the Abbé Gérard was the +celebrated diplomatist and millionaire the Prince Paul Pomerantseff. +This most extraordinary personage had for the past six years kept Europe +in a constant state of excitement by reason of his munificence and +power. Brought up under the direct personal supervision of the Emperor +of Russia, he had done a little of everything and succeeded in all he +had undertaken. He had distinguished himself as a diplomatist and as a +soldier, and had left traces of his indomitable will in many State +papers as on many an enemy's face during the period of the Crimean war. +In London, but perhaps more especially in "the shires," his face was +well known and liked. Duchesses' daughters had sighed for him, but in +vain; and the continuance of his celibacy appeared to be as certain as +the splendor of his fortune. The Abbé Gérard had known him for many +years, and proved no exception to the general rule, for although their +friendship had never ripened into great intimacy, there was perhaps no +man in the wide circle of his acquaintance in whose society the priest +took a more lively pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Late as usual!" cried the Duke, as Gérard hurried into the room ten +minutes after the appointed hour. "Prince, if you were so unpunctual in +your diplomatic duties as the Abbé is in his social (and I <i>fear</i> in his +spiritual!), where would the world be?"</p> + +<p>The Abbé stopped short, pulled out his watch, and looked at it with a +comically contrite air.</p> + +<p>"Only ten minutes late, and I am sure when you think of the amount of +business I have to transact you can afford to forgive me," he said as he +advanced and shook hands warmly with his friends.</p> + +<p>"You have no idea," he continued, throwing himself lazily down upon a +lounge—"you have no idea of the amount of folly I am forced to listen +to in a day! Every woman whose bad temper has got her into trouble with +her husband, and every man whose stupidity has led him into quarrelling +with his wife—one and all they come to me, pour out their misfortunes +in my ears, and expect me to arrange their affairs."</p> + +<p>The servant announcing dinner interrupted the poor Abbé's complaints.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I should do," said Pomerantseff when they were seated +at table. "I should say to every man and woman who came to me on such +errands, 'My dear friend, my business is with your spiritual welfare, +and with that alone. The doctor and solicitor must take care of your +worldly concerns. It is my duty to insure your eternal felicity when the +tedium of delirium tremens and the divorce court is all over, and that +is really all one man can do.'"</p> + +<p>"By the way, talking of spiritual matters," interrupted the Duke, +"Pomerantseff has been telling me his experience with a man you detest, +Abbé."</p> + +<p>"I detest no man."</p> + +<p>"I can only judge from your own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> words," rejoined Frontignan. "Did you +not tell me years ago that you thought Home a more serious evil than the +typhoid fever?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Home the medium!" cried Gérard in great disgust. "I admit you are +right. It is not possible, Prince, that you encourage Frontignan in his +absurd spiritualism."</p> + +<p>The Prince smiled gravely.</p> + +<p>"I do not pretend to encourage any man in anything, <i>mon cher Abbé</i>."</p> + +<p>"But you cannot believe in it!"</p> + +<p>"I do most certainly believe in it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Dieu de Dieu!</i>" exclaimed Gérard. "What folly! What are we all coming +to?"</p> + +<p>"It has always struck me as remarkable," said the Duke, "that with all +your taste for the curious and unknown, you have never been tempted into +investigating the matter, Abbé."</p> + +<p>"I am, as you say, a lover of the curious," replied the priest, "but not +of such empty trash as spiritualism. I have enough cares with the +realities of this world without bringing upon myself the misery of +investigating the possibilities of the next."</p> + +<p>"That is a sentiment worthy of Abbé Dubois," said Pomerantseff laughing, +and then the Duke, suddenly making some inquiry relative to the train +which was to take him and the Prince to Brunoy on a shooting expedition +the following morning, the subject for the nonce was dropped. It was +destined, however, to be revived later in the evening, for when after +dinner they were comfortably ensconced in the <i>tabagie</i>, Frontignan, who +had been greatly excited by some extraordinary manifestations related to +him by the Prince before the arrival of the Abbé, said abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Now, Gérard, you must really let us convert you to spiritualism."</p> + +<p>"Never!" cried the Abbé.</p> + +<p>"It is absurd for you to disbelieve, for you know nothing about it, +since you have never been willing to attend a <i>séance</i>."</p> + +<p>"I <i>feel</i> it is absurd, and that is enough."</p> + +<p>"I myself do not exactly believe in <i>spirits</i>," said Frontignan +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"<i>À la bonne heure!</i> Of course not!" cried the Abbé. "You see, Prince, +he is not quite mad after all!"</p> + +<p>The Prince said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I cannot doubt the existence of some extraordinary phenomena," +continued the young Duke thoughtfully; "for I cannot bring myself to +such an exquisite pitch of philosophical imbecility as to doubt my own +senses; but, to my thinking, the exact nature of the phenomena, remains +as yet an open question. I have a theory of my own about it, and +although it may be absurd and fantastical, it is certainly no more so +than that which would have us believe the spirits of the dear old lazy +dead come back to the scenes of their lives and miseries to pull our +noses and play tambourines."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask you," inquired the Prince, with a touch of sarcasm in his +voice, "what this theory of yours may be?"</p> + +<p>"I will give you," said the Duke, ignoring the sneer, and stretching +himself back in his chair as he sent a ring of smoke curling daintily +toward the ceiling—"I will give you with great pleasure the result of +my reflection about this matter. It is my belief that the things—the +tangible things we create, or rather cause to appear, come from within +ourselves, and are portions of ourselves. We produce them, in the first +instance, generally with hands linked, but afterward when our nervous +organizations are more harmonized to them, they come to us of +themselves, and even against our wills. It is my belief that these are +what we term our passions and our emotions, to whose existence the +electric fluid and nervous ecstasy we cause to circulate and induce by +sitting with hands linked, merely gives a tangible and corporeal +expression. We all know that grief, joy, remorse, and many other +sensations and emotions can kill as surely and in many cases as quickly +as an assassin's dagger, and it is a well known<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> scientific fact that +there are certain nerves in the hand between certain fingers which have +a distinct <i>rapport</i> with the mind, and by which the mind can be +controlled. Since this is so, why is it that under certain given +conditions, such as sitting with hands linked—that thus sitting, and +while the electric fluid, drawn out by the contact of our hands, forms a +powerful medium between the inner and the outward being—why is it, I +say, that these strong emotions I have mentioned should not take +advantage of this strange river flowing to and fro between the +conceptional and the visual to float before us for a time, and give us +an opportunity of seeing and touching them, who influence our every +action in life? It is my belief that I can shake hands with my emotions; +that my conscience can become tangible and pinch my ear just as surely +as it can and does keep people awake at night by agitating their nervous +system, or in other words, by mentally pinching their ears."</p> + +<p>"That is certainly a very fantastical idea," said the Abbé smiling. "But +if you have ever seen any of your emotions, what do they look like? I +should like to see my hasty temper sitting beside me for a minute; I +should take advantage of his being corporealized to pay him back in his +own coin, and give him a good thrashing."</p> + +<p>"It is difficult," said the Duke gravely, "to recognize one's emotions +when brought actually face to face with them, although they have been +living in us all our lives—turning our hair gray or pulling it out; +making us stout or lean, upright or bent over. Moreover, our minor +emotions, except in cases where the medium is remarkably powerful, +outwardly express themselves to us as perfumes, or sometimes in lights. +I have reason, however, to believe I have recognized my conscience."</p> + +<p>"I should have thought he'd have been too sleepy to move out!" laughed +the Prince.</p> + +<p>"That just shows how wrongly one man judges another," said Octave +lazily, without earnestness, but with a certain something in his tone +that betokened he was dealing with realities. "You probably think that I +am not much troubled with a conscience; whereas the fact is that my +conscience, with a strong dash of remorse in it, is a very keen one. +Many years ago a certain episode changed the whole color and current of +my life inwardly to myself, although of course outwardly I was much the +same. Now, this episode aroused my conscience to a most extraordinary +degree, and I never 'sit' now without seeing a female figure; with a +face like that of the heroine of my episode, dressed in a queer robe, +woven of every possible color except white, who shudders and trembles as +she passes before me, holding in her arms large sheets of glass, through +which dim Bohemian glass colors pass flickering every moment."</p> + +<p>"What a very disagreeable thing to see this weather," said the +Abbé—"everything shuddering and shaking!"</p> + +<p>"Have you ever discovered why she goes about like the wife of a +glazier?" asked the Prince.</p> + +<p>"For a long time I could not make out what they could be, these large +panes of glass with variegated colors passing through them; but now I +think I know."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"They are dreams waiting to be fitted in."</p> + +<p>"Bravo!" cried the Abbé. "That is really a good idea! If I had only the +pen of Charles Nodier, what a charming <i>feuilleton</i> I could write about +all this!"</p> + +<p>Pomerantseff laid his hand affectionately on the Duke's shoulder. "<i>Mon +cher ami</i>," he said with a grave smile, "believe me, you are wholly at +fault in your speculations. Gérard here of course, naturally enough, +since he has never been willing to 'sit,' thinks we are both madmen, and +that the whole thing is folly; but you and I, who have sat and seen many +marvellous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> manifestations, know that it is not folly. Take the word of +a man who has had greater experience in the matter than yourself, and +who is himself a most powerful medium: the theory you have just +enunciated is utterly false."</p> + +<p>"Prove that it is false."</p> + +<p>"I cannot prove it, but wait and see."</p> + +<p>"Nay; I have given it all up now. I will not meddle with spiritualism +again. It unhinged my nerves and destroyed my peace of mind while I was +investigating it."</p> + +<p>The Prince shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Prince, leave him alone," said the Abbé smiling. "His theory is a great +deal more sensible than yours; and if I could bring myself to believe +that at your <i>séances</i> any real phenomenon <i>does</i> take place (which of +course no sane person can), I should be much more apt to accept +Frontignan's interpretation of the matter. Let us follow it out a little +further, for the mere sake of talking nonsense. Doubtless the dominant +passion of a man would be the most likely to appear—that is to say, +would be the most tangible."</p> + +<p>"That would depend," replied the Duke, "upon circumstances. If the +phenomenon should take place while the man is alone, doubtless it would +be so; but if while at a <i>séance</i> attended by many people, the +apparition would be the product of the master passions of all, and thus +it is that many of the visions which appear at <i>séances</i> where the +sitters are not harmonized are most remarkable and unrecognizable +anomalies."</p> + +<p>"I thought I understood from Mme. de Girardin that certain spirits +always appeared."</p> + +<p>"Pooh, pooh! Mme. de Girardin never went deep enough into the matter. +The most ravishing vision I ever saw was when I fancied I saw love."</p> + +<p>"What? Love! An emanation from yourself?"</p> + +<p>The Duke sighed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that is what proved to me that what I saw could not be love. That +sentiment has been too long extinguished in me to awaken to a corporeal +expression."</p> + +<p>"What made you think it was love?" asked Pomerantseff.</p> + +<p>"It was a white dove with something I cannot express that was human +about it. I felt ineffably happy while it was with me."</p> + +<p>"Your theory is false, I tell you," said the Russian. "What you saw +probably was love."</p> + +<p>"Then it would have been God!" cried the Abbé.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"I believe with Novalis that 'love is the highest reality,'" replied +Gérard; then he added with a laugh, "No, Duke, what you saw was an +emanation from yourself—a master passion. It was the corporeal +embodiment of your love of pigeon-shooting!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," laughed the Duke.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, <i>mon ami</i>," said Pomerantseff rising, as he saw the +Abbé making preparations to depart. "I am glad that my appetite, +corporealized and separated from my discretion, is not in your wine +cellar. Your Johannisberg would suffer!"</p> + +<p>"Prince, you must drive me home," said the Abbé. "I cannot get into a +draughty cab at this hour of the night."</p> + +<p>"<i>Très volontiers!</i> Good night, Duke. Remember to-morrow morning, at +half-past nine, at the Gare de Lyon," said the Prince.</p> + +<p>"Remember to-morrow night at half-past ten, at Mme. de Langeac's," +bawled the Abbé; and so they left. The young nobleman hurried down the +cold staircase and into the Prince's brougham.</p> + +<p>"What a pity," exclaimed the Abbé when they were once fairly started, +"that a man with all the mind of De Frontignan should give himself up to +such wild ideas and dreams!"</p> + +<p>"You are not very complimentary," rejoined the other smiling gravely; +"for you know that so far as believing in spirits I am as bad if not +worse than he is."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, but <i>you</i> are jesting."</p> + +<p>"On my honor as a gentleman, I am not jesting. See here." As he spoke +Pomerantseff seized the Abbé's hand. "You heard me tell the Duke just +now that I believed he had seen the spirit of love. Well, the sermon you +preached the day before yesterday, which all Paris is talking about, and +in which you endeavored to prove the personality of the devil to be a +fact, was truer than perhaps you believed when you preached it. Why +should not Frontignan have seen the spirit of love <i>when I know and have +seen the devil</i>?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon ami</i>, you are insane!" cried Gérard. "Why, the devil does not +exist!"</p> + +<p>"I tell you I have seen him—the God of all Evil, the Prince of +Desolation!" cried the other in an excited voice. "And what is more, <i>I +will show him to you</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Show the devil to <i>me</i>!" exclaimed the Abbé, half terrified, half +amused. "Why, you are out of your mind!"</p> + +<p>The Prince laid his other hand upon the arm of the Abbé, who could feel +he was trembling with excitement.</p> + +<p>"You know my address," he said in a quick, passionate voice. "When you +feel—as I tell you you surely will—desirous of investigating this +further, send for me, and I promise, on my honor as a gentleman, to show +you the devil, so that you cannot doubt. I will do this on one +condition."</p> + +<p>The Abbé felt almost faint; for apart from the wildness of the words +thus abruptly and unexpectedly addressed to him, the hand of the Prince +which lay upon his own, as if to keep him still, seemed to be pouring +fire and madness into him. He tried to withdraw it, but the other +grasped the fingers tight.</p> + +<p>"On one condition," repeated Pomerantseff in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>"What condition?" murmured the poor Abbé.</p> + +<p>"That you trust yourself entirely to me until we reach the place of +meeting."</p> + +<p>"Prince, let go my hand! You are hurting me! I will promise to do as you +say when I want to go to your infernal meeting."</p> + +<p>He wrenched his hand away, pulled down the carriage window and let the +cold night air in.</p> + +<p>"Pomerantseff, you are a madman; you are dangerous. Why the devil did +you grasp my hand in that way? My arm is numb."</p> + +<p>The Prince laughed.</p> + +<p>"It is only electricity. I was determined, since you doubted the +existence of the devil, to make you promise to come and see him."</p> + +<p>"I never promised!" exclaimed the Abbé. "I only promised to trust myself +to you if the horrible desire should ever seize me to investigate your +mad words further. But you need not be afraid of that. God forbid I +should indulge in such folly!"</p> + +<p>The Prince smiled.</p> + +<p>"God has nothing to do with this," he remarked simply. "You will come."</p> + +<p>The carriage had now turned up the street in which the Abbé lived, and +they were but a few doors from his house.</p> + +<p>"My dear Prince," said Gérard earnestly, "let me say a few words to you +at parting. You know I am not a bigot, so that your words—which many +might think blasphemous—I care nothing about; but remember we are in +the Paris of the nineteenth century, not in the Paris of Cazotte, and +that we are eminently practical nowadays. Had you asked me to go with +you to see some curious atrocity, no matter how horrible, I might, were +it interesting, have accepted; but when you invite me to go with you to +see the devil you really must excuse me; it is too absurd."</p> + +<p>"Very well," replied Prince Pomerantseff. "Of course I know you will +come; but think the matter over well. Remember, I promise to show the +devil to you so that you can never doubt of his personality again. This +is not one of the wonders of electro-biology, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> simply a fact: <i>the +devil exists, and you shall see him</i>. Good night."</p> + +<p>Gérard, as he turned into his <i>porte cochère</i>, and made his way up +stairs, was more struck than perhaps he confessed even to himself by the +quiet tone of certainty and assurance in which the Prince uttered these +words; and on reaching his apartment he sat down by the blazing fire, +lighted a cigarette, and began considering in all its bearings what he +felt convinced was a most remarkable case of mania and mental +derangement. In the first place, was the Prince deceived himself, or +merely endeavoring to deceive another? The latter theory he at once +rejected; not only the character and breeding of the man, but his +nervous earnestness about this matter, rendered such a supposition +impossible. Then he himself was deceived—and yet how improbable! Gérard +could remember nothing in what he knew or had heard of the Prince that +could lead him to suppose his brain was of the kind charlatans and +pseudo-magicians can successfully bewitch. On the contrary, although of +a country in which the grossest superstitions are rife, he himself had +led such an active, healthy life, partly in Russia and partly in +England, that his brain could hardly be suspected of derangement. An +intimate and practical acquaintance with most of the fences in "the +shires," and all the leading statesmen of Europe, can hardly be +considered compatible with a morbid disposition and superstitious +nature.</p> + +<p>No; the Abbé confessed to himself that the man who deceived Pomerantseff +must have been of no ordinary ability. That he had been deceived was +beyond all question, but it was certainly marvellous. In practical +matters, the Abbé was even forced to confess to himself, he would +unhesitatingly take the Prince's advice, sooner than trust to his own +private judgment; and yet here was this model of keen, healthy, worldly +wisdom gravely inviting him to meet the devil face to face, and not only +this, but promising that it should be no unintelligible freak of +electro-biology, but as a simple fact. Gérard smoked thirty cigarettes +without coming to any satisfactory solution of the enigma. What if after +all he, the Abbé Gérard, for once should abandon the line of conduct he +had laid down for himself, and, to satisfy his curiosity, and perhaps +with the chance of restoring to its proper equilibrium a most valuable +and comprehensive mind, overlook his determination never to endanger his +peace of mind by meddling with the affairs of spiritualists? He could +picture to himself the whole thing: they would doubtless be in a +darkened room; an apparition clothed in red, and adorned with the +traditional horns, would make its appearance, and there would very +likely be no apparent evidence of fraud. Even supposing some portion of +the absurd theory enunciated by the Duke de Frontignan were true, and +some strange thing begotten of electric fluid and overwrought +imagination were to make its appearance, that could hardly be considered +by a sane man as being equivalent to an interview with the devil. The +Abbé told himself that it would be most likely impossible to <i>detect</i> +any fraud, but he felt convinced that should the Prince find this +phenomenon pooh-poohed, after a full investigation, by a man of sense +and culture, his faith in it would be shaken, and ere long he would come +to despise it.</p> + +<p>All the remarkable stories he had heard about spiritualism from Mme. de +Gérardin and others, and which he hitherto paid no heed to, came back +to-night to the Abbé as he sat ruminating over the extraordinary offer +just made him. He had heard of dead people appearing, and <i>that</i> was +sufficiently absurd, for he did not believe in a future life; but the +devil——The idea was preposterous! Poor Luther, indeed, might throw his +ink-pot at him, but no enlightened Roman Catholic priest could be +expected to believe in his existence, no matter how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> much he might be +forced—for obvious reasons—to preach about it, and represent it as a +fact in sermons. Yes; he would unhesitatingly consent to investigate the +matter, and discover the fraud he felt certain was lurking somewhere, +but that the Prince seemed to feel so certain of his consent; and he +feared by thus fulfilling an idly expressed prophecy to plunge the +unhappy man still deeper in his slough of superstition. One thing was +certain, the Abbé told himself with a smile—nothing on earth or from +heaven or hell—if the two latter absurdities existed—could make <i>him</i> +believe in the devil. No, not even if the devil should come and take him +by the hand, and all the hosts of heaven flock to testify to his +identity. By this time, having smoked and thought himself into a state +of blasphemous idiocy, our worthy divine threw away his cigarette, went +to bed, and read himself into a nightmare with a volume of Von Helmont. +The following morning still found him perplexed as to what course to +adopt in this matter. As luck (or shall we say—the devil?) would have +it, while he was trifling in a listless way with his breakfast, there +called to see him the only priest in whose judgment, purity, and +religious fervor he had any confidence. It is probable, to such an +extent was his mind engrossed by the subject, that no matter who might +have called, he would have discussed the extraordinary conduct of Prince +Pomerantseff with him; but insomuch as the visitor chanced to be the +very man best calculated to direct his judgment in the matter, he, +without unnecessary delay, laid the whole affair before him.</p> + +<p>"You see, <i>mon cher</i>," said Gérard in conclusion, "my position is just +this: It appears to me that this person, whom I will not name, has been +trifled with by Home and other so-called spiritualists to such an extent +that his mind is really in danger. Now, although of course we are +forbidden to have any dealings with such people, or to participate in +any way in their infamous, foolish, and unholy practices, surely it +would be the act of a Christian if a clear, healthy-minded man were to +expose the fraud, and thus save to society a man of such transcendent +ability as my friend. Moreover, should I determine to accept his mad +invitation, I hardly think I could be said to participate in any of the +scandalous and perhaps blasphemous rites he may have to perform to bring +about the supposed result. What do you think of it, and what do you +advise?"</p> + +<p>His friend walked up and down the room for a few minutes, turning the +matter over carefully in his mind, and then, coming up to where the Abbé +lay lazily stretched upon a lounge, he said earnestly,</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon cher</i> Henri, I am very glad you have asked me about this. It +appears to me that your duty is quite clear. You perhaps have it in your +power, as you yourself have seen, to save, not only, as you say, a +<i>mind</i>, but what I wish I could feel you prized more highly—a soul. You +must accept the invitation."</p> + +<p>The Abbé rose in delight at having found another man who, taking the +responsibility off his shoulders, commanded him as a duty to indulge his +ardent curiosity.</p> + +<p>"But," continued the other in a solemn voice, "before accepting, you +must do one thing."</p> + +<p>The Abbé threw himself back on the lounge in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pray, of course," he exclaimed petulantly. "I am quite aware of +that."</p> + +<p>"Not only pray, but <i>fast</i>, and that for seven days at least, my dear +brother."</p> + +<p>This was a very disagreeable view of the matter, but the Abbé was equal +to the occasion. After a pause, during which he appeared absorbed in +religious reflection, he rose, and taking his friend by the hand—</p> + +<p>"You are right," said he, "as you always are. Although of course I know +the evil spirit cannot harm an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> officer of God's Holy Catholic church, +even supposing, for the sake of argument, my poor friend can invoke +Satan, yet if I am to do any good, if I am to save my friend from +destruction, I must be armed with extraordinary grace, and this, as you +truly divine, can only come by fasting."</p> + +<p>The other wrung his hand warmly. "I knew you would see it in its proper +light, my dear Henri," he said, "and now I will leave you to recover +your peace of mind by religious meditation."</p> + +<p>The Abbé smiled gravely, and let his friend depart. The following letter +was the result of this edifying interview between the two divines:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Mon cher Prince</span>: No doubt you will feel very triumphant when +you learn that my object in writing this letter is to accept +your offer of presentation to <i>Sa Majesté</i>; but I do not care +whether you choose to consider this yielding to what is only in +part whimsical curiosity a triumph or no. I will not write to +you any cut-and-dried platitudes about good and evil, but I +frankly assure you that one of the strongest reasons which +induces me to go with you on this fool's errand is a belief +that I can discover the absurdity and imposture, and cure you +of a hallucination which is unworthy of you.</p> + +<p class="right">"<i>Tout à vous</i>,<br /><br /> +"<span class="smcap">Henri Gérard</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>For two days he received no reply to this letter, nor did he happen, in +the interval, to meet the Prince in society, although he heard of him +from De Frontignan and others; but on the third day the following note +was brought to him:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Mon cher ami</span>: There is no question of triumph, any more than +there is of deception. I will call for you this evening at +half-past nine. You must remember your promise to trust +yourself entirely to me.</p> + +<p class="right">"<i>Cordialement à vous</i>,<br /><br /> +"<span class="smcap">Pomerantseff</span>."</p></div> + +<p>So the matter was now arranged, and he, the Abbé Gérard, the renowned +preacher of the celebrated —— church, was to meet that very night, by +special appointment, at half-past nine, the Prince of Darkness; and this +in January, in Paris—at the height of the season in the capital of +civilization. As may be well imagined, during the remainder of that +eventful day, until the hour of the Prince's arrival, the Abbé did not +enjoy his customary placidity. A secretary of the Turkish embassy who +called at four found him engaged in a violent discussion with one of the +Rothschilds about the early Christians' belief in demons, as shown by +Tertullian and others, while Lord Middlesex, who called at half-past +five, found he had captured Faure, installed him at the piano, and was +inducing him to hum snatches from "Don Juan." When his dinner hour +arrived, having given orders to his valet to admit no one lest he should +be discovered <i>not</i> fasting, he hastily swallowed a few mouthfuls, +fortified himself with a couple of glasses of Chartreuse verte, and +lighting an enormous "imperial," awaited the coming of the messenger of +Satan. At half-past nine o'clock precisely the Prince arrived. He was in +full evening dress (but contrary to his usual custom, wearing no +decoration or ribbon in his buttonhole), and his face was of a deadly +pallor.</p> + +<p>"<i>Mon Dieu!</i>" exclaimed the Abbé, "What is the matter with you, <i>mon +cher</i>? You are looking very ill. We had better postpone our visit."</p> + +<p>"No; it is nothing," replied the Prince gravely. "Let us be off without +delay. In matters of this sort waiting is unbearable."</p> + +<p>The Abbé rose, and rang the bell for his hat and cloak. The appearance +of the Prince, his evident agitation, and his unfeigned impatience, +which seemed to betoken terror, were far from reassuring, but the Abbé +promptly quelled any misgivings he might have felt. Suddenly a thought +struck him; a thought which certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> his brain would never have +engendered had it been in its normal condition.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I had better change my dress, and go <i>en pékin</i>?" he inquired +anxiously.</p> + +<p>The ghost of a sarcastic smile flitted across the Prince's face, as he +replied,</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not. Your <i>soutane</i> will be in every way acceptable. +Come, let us be off."</p> + +<p>The Abbé made a grimace, put on his hat, flung his cloak around his +shoulders, and followed the Prince down stairs. He remarked with some +surprise that the carriage awaiting them was not the Prince's.</p> + +<p>"I have hired a carriage for the occasion," remarked Pomerantseff +quietly, noticing Gerard's glance of surprise. "I am unwilling that my +servants should suspect anything of this."</p> + +<p>They entered the carriage, and the coachman, evidently instructed +beforehand where to go, drove off without delay. The Prince immediately +pulled down the blinds, and taking a silk pocket handkerchief from his +pocket, began quietly to fold it lengthwise.</p> + +<p>"I must blindfold you, <i>mon cher</i>," he remarked simply, as if announcing +the most ordinary fact.</p> + +<p>"<i>Diable!</i>" cried the Abbé, now becoming a little nervous. "This is very +unpleasant! I believe you are the devil yourself."</p> + +<p>"Remember your promise," said Pomerantseff, as he carefully covered his +friend's eyes with the pocket handkerchief, and effectually precluded +the possibility of his seeing anything until he should remove the +bandage. After this nothing was said. The Abbé heard the Prince pull up +the blind, open the window, and tell the coachman to drive faster. He +endeavored to discover when they turned to the right, and when to the +left, but in a few minutes got bewildered and gave it up in despair. At +one time he felt certain they were crossing the river.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had not come," he murmured to himself. "Of course the whole +thing is folly, but it is a great trial to the nerves, and I shall +probably be upset for many days."</p> + +<p>On they drove; the time seemed interminable to the Abbé.</p> + +<p>"Are we near our destination yet?" he inquired at last.</p> + +<p>"Not very far off," replied the other, in what seemed to Gérard a most +sepulchral tone of voice. At length, after a drive of perhaps half an +hour, but which seemed to the Abbé double that time, Pomerantseff +murmured in a low tone, and with a profound sigh which sounded almost +like a sob, "Here we are," and at that moment the Abbé felt the carriage +was turning, and heard the horses' hoofs clatter on what he imagined to +be the stones of a courtyard. The carriage stopped. Pomerantseff opened +the door himself, and assisted the blindfolded priest to alight.</p> + +<p>"There are five steps," he said as he held the Abbé by the arm. "Take +care."</p> + +<p>The Abbé stumbled up the five steps. They had now entered a house, and +Gérard imagined to himself it was probably some old hotel, like the +Hôtel Pimodan, where Gautier, Beaudelaire, and others at one time were +wont to assemble to disperse the cares of life in the fumes of opium. +When they had proceeded a few yards, Pomerantseff warned him that they +were about to ascend a staircase, and up many shallow steps they went, +the Abbé regretting every instant more and more that he had allowed his +vulgar curiosity to lead him into an adventure which could be productive +of nothing but ridicule and shattered nerves. When at length they had +reached the top of the stairs, the Prince guided him by the arm through +what the Abbé imagined to be a hall, opened a door, closed and locked it +after them, walked on again, opened another door, which he closed and +locked likewise, and over which the Abbé heard him pull a heavy curtain. +The Prince then took him again by the arm, advanced him a few steps, and +said in a low whisper,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> "Remain quietly standing where you are, and do +not attempt to remove the pocket handkerchief until you hear voices."</p> + +<p>The Abbé folded his arms and stood motionless while he heard the Prince +walk away a few yards. It was evident to the unfortunate priest that the +room in which he stood was not dark, for although he could see nothing, +owing to the pocket handkerchief, which had been bound most skilfully +over his eyes, there was a sensation of being in strong light, and his +cheeks and hands felt, as it were, illuminated. Suddenly a horrible +sound sent a chill of terror through him—a gentle noise as of naked +flesh touching the waxed floor—and before he could recover from the +shock occasioned by the sound, the voices of many men, voices of men +groaning or wailing in some hideous ecstasy, broke the stillness, +crying—"Father of all sin and crime, Prince of all despair and anguish, +come to us, we implore thee!"</p> + +<p>The Abbé, wild with terror, tore off the pocket handkerchief. He found +himself in a large, old-fashioned room, panelled up to the lofty ceiling +with oak, and filled with great light, shed from innumerable tapers +fitted into sconces on the wall—light which, though naturally <i>soft</i>, +was almost fierce by reason of its greatness, for it proceeded from at +least two hundred tapers. He had then been after all right in his +conjectures: he was evidently in a chamber of some one of the many +old-fashioned hotels which are to be seen in the Ile St. Louis, and +indeed in all the antiquated quarters of Paris. It was reassuring, at +all events, to know one was not in Hades, and to feel tolerably certain +that a sergeant de ville could not be many yards distant. All this +passed into his comprehension like a flash of lightning, for hardly had +the bandage left his eyes ere his whole attention was riveted upon a +group before him.</p> + +<p>Twelve men—Pomerantseff among the number—of all ages, from twenty-five +to fifty-five, all dressed in evening dress, and all, so far as one +could judge at such a moment, men of culture and refinement, knelt or +rather lay nearly prone upon the floor, with hands linked. They were +bowing forward and kissing the floor—which might account for the +strange sound heard by Gérard—and their faces were illuminated with a +light of hellish ecstasy—half distorted as if in pain, half smiling as +if in triumph. The Abbé's eyes instinctively sought out the Prince. He +was the last on the left hand side, and while his left hand grasped that +of his neighbor, his right was sweeping nervously over the floor as if +seeking to animate the boards. His face was more calm than those of the +others, but of a deadly pallor, and the violet tints about the mouth and +temples showed he was suffering from intense emotion. They were all, +each one after his own fashion, praying aloud, or rather moaning, as +they writhed in ecstatic adoration.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Father of Evil, come to us!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Prince of Endless Desolation, who sitteth by the bed of suicides, +we adore thee!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, creator of eternal anguish! oh, king of cruel pleasures and +famishing desires, we worship thee!"</p> + +<p>"Come to us, with thy foot upon the hearts of widows, thy hair lucid +with the slaughter of innocence, and thy brow wreathed with the chaplet +of despair!"</p> + +<p>The heart of the Abbé turned cold and sick as these beings, hardly human +by reason of their great mental exaltation, swayed before him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly—or rather the full conception of the fact was sudden, for the +influence had been gradually stealing over him—he felt a terrible +coldness, a coldness more piercing than any he had before experienced +even in Russia; and with the coldness there came to him the certain +knowledge of the presence of some new being in the room. Withdrawing his +eyes from the semi-circle of men, who did not seem to be aware of his, +the Abbé's, presence, and who ceased not in their blasphemies,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> he +turned them slowly around, and as he did so they fell upon a newcomer, a +thirteenth, who seemed to spring into existence from the air before his +very eyes.</p> + +<p>He was a young man of apparently twenty, very tall, with bright golden +hair falling from his forehead like a girl's. He was dressed in evening +dress, and his cheeks were flushed as if with wine or pleasure, but from +his eyes there gleamed a look of inexpressible sadness, of intense +despair. The group of men had evidently become aware of his presence at +the same moment, for they all fell prone upon the floor adoring, and +their words were now no longer words of invocation, but words of praise +and worship. The Abbé was frozen with horror; there was no room in his +breast for the lesser emotion of fear; indeed, the horror was so great +and all-absorbing as to charm and hold him spellbound. He could not +remove his eyes from the thirteenth, who stood before him calmly, with a +faint smile playing over his intellectual and aristocratic face—a smile +which only added to the intensity of the despair gleaming in his clear +blue eyes. Gérard was struck first with the sadness, then with the +beauty, and then with the intellectual vigor of that marvellous +countenance. The expression was not unkind: haughtiness and pride could +be read only in the high-bred features, short upper lip, and nobly +moulded limbs; for the face betokened, save for the flush upon the +cheeks, only great sadness. The eyes were fixed upon those of Gérard, +and he felt their soft, subtle, intense light penetrate into every nook +and cranny of his soul and being. This being simply stood and gazed upon +the priest as the worshippers grew more wild, more blasphemous, more +cruel. The Abbé could think of nothing but the face before him, and the +great desolation that lay folded over it as a veil. He could think of no +prayer, although he could remember there were prayers. Was this +despair—the despair of a man drowning in sight of land—being shed +into him from the sad blue eyes? Was it despair, or was it death? Ah, +no; not death. Death was peaceful, and this was violent and lively. Was +there no refuge, no mercy, no salvation anywhere? Perhaps, but he could +not remember while those sad blue eyes still gazed upon him. He could +not remember, and still he could not entirely forget. He felt that help +would come to him if he sought it, and yet he could hardly tell how to +seek it. Moreover, by degrees the blue eyes—it seemed as if their +color, their great blueness, had some fearful power—began pouring into +him a more hideous pleasure. It was the ecstasy of great pain, becoming +a delight, the ecstasy of being beyond all hope and of being thus +enabled to look with scorn upon the author of hope. The blue eyes still +gazed sadly with a soft smile of despair upon him. Gérard knew that in +another moment he would not sink, faint, or fall, but that he would—oh, +much worse!—he would smile. At this very instant a name—a familiar +name, and one which the infernal worshippers had made frequent use of, +but which he had never remarked before—struck his ear; the name of +Christ. Where had he heard it? He could not tell. It was the name of a +young man; he could remember that, and nothing more. Again the name +sounded—"Christ." There was another word like Christ which seemed at +some time to have brought an idea first of great suffering and then of +great peace. Aye, peace, but no pleasure. No delight like this shed from +these marvellous blue eyes. Again the name sounded—"Christ."</p> + +<p>Ah! the other word was cross (<i>croix</i>). He remembered now; along thing +with a short thing across it.</p> + +<p>Was it that as he thought of these things the charm of the blue eyes and +their great sadness lessened in intensity? We dare not say, but as some +faint conception of what a cross was flitted through the Abbé's brain, +although he could think of no prayer,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> of no distinct use of this cross, +he drew his right hand slowly up, and feebly made the sign across his +breast.</p> + +<p>The vision vanished.</p> + +<p>The men adoring ceased their clamor, and lay crouched up against each +other as if some strong electric power had been taken from them, and +great weakness had succeeded. But for a moment; and then they rose +trembling and with loosened hands, and stood for an instant feebly +gazing at the Abbé, who felt faint and exhausted, and heeded them not. +With extraordinary presence of mind, the Prince walked quickly up to +him, pushed him out of the door by which they had entered, followed him, +and locked the door behind them, thus precluding the possibility of +being immediately pursued by the others. Once in the next room, the Abbé +and Pomerantseff paused for an instant to recover breath, for the +swiftness of their flight had exhausted them, worn out as they both were +mentally and physically; but during this brief interval the Prince, who +appeared to be retaining his presence of mind by a merely mechanical +effort, carefully replaced over his friend's eyes the bandage which the +Abbé held tightly grasped in his hand. Then he led him on, and it was +not until the cold air struck them that they noticed they had left their +hats behind.</p> + +<p>"<i>N'importe!</i>" muttered Pomerantseff. "It would be dangerous to return"; +and hurrying the Abbé into the carriage which awaited them, he bade the +coachman speed them away "<i>au grand galop</i>!"</p> + +<p>Not a word was spoken; the Abbé lay back as one in a swoon, and heeded +nothing until he felt the carriage stop, and the Prince uncovered his +eyes and told him he had reached home. He alighted in silence, and +passed into his house without a word. How he reached his apartment he +never knew, but the following morning found him raging with fever and +delirious. When he had sufficiently recovered, after the lapse of a few +days, to admit of his reading the numerous letters awaiting his +attention, one was put into his hand which had been brought on the +second night after the one of the memorable <i>séance</i>. It ran as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">Jockey Club</span>, January 26, 186-.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Mon cher Abbé</span>: I am afraid our little adventure was too much +for you; in fact, I myself was very unwell all yesterday, and +nothing but a Russian bath has pulled me together. I can hardly +wonder at this, however, for I have never in my life been +present at so powerful a <i>séance</i>, and you may comfort yourself +with the reflection that <i>Son Altesse</i> has never honored any +one with his presence for so long a space of time before. Never +fear about your illness; it is merely nervous exhaustion, and +you will be well soon; but such evenings must not often be +indulged in if you are not desirous of shortening your life. I +shall hope to meet you at Mme. de Metternich's on Monday.</p> + +<p class="right">"<i>Tout à vous</i>,<br /><br /> +"<span class="smcap">Pomerantseff</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>Whether or no Gérard was sufficiently recovered to meet his friend at +the Austrian embassy on the evening named, we do not know, nor does it +concern us; but he is certainly enjoying excellent health now, and is no +less charming than before his extraordinary adventure.</p> + +<p>Such is the true story of a meeting with the devil in Paris not many +years ago; a story true in every particular, as can be easily proved by +a direct application to any of the persons concerned in it, for they are +all living still. The key to the enigma we cannot find, for we certainly +do not put faith in any of the theories of spiritualists; but that an +apparition such as we have described did appear in the way and under the +circumstances we have described, is a fact, and we must leave the +satisfactory solution of the difficulty to more profound psychologists +than ourselves.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="ON_READING_SHAKESPEARE" id="ON_READING_SHAKESPEARE"></a>ON READING SHAKESPEARE.</h2> + +<h3>CONCLUSION.</h3> + + +<p>Probably no play of Shakespeare's, probably no other play or poem of a +high degree of merit, is so much neglected as "Troilus and Cressida" is. +I have met intelligent readers of Shakespeare, who thought themselves +unusually well acquainted with his writings, and who were so, who +understood him and delighted in him, but who yet had never read "Troilus +and Cressida." They had, in one way and another, got the notion that it +is a very inferior play, and not worth reading, or at least not to be +read until after they were tired of all the others—a time which had not +yet come. There seems to be a slur cast upon this play; the reason of +which is its very undramatic character, and the consequent +non-appearance of its name in theatrical records. No one has heard of +any actor's or actress's appearance, even in the last century, as one of +the personages in "Troilus and Cressida." Its name has not been upon the +playbills for generations, although even "Love's Labor's Lost" has once +in a while been performed. Hence it is almost unknown, except to the +thorough Shakespearian readers, who are very few; fewer now, in +proportion to the largely increased leisurely and instructed classes, +than they were two hundred years ago, much to the shame of our vaunted +popular education and diffusion of knowledge. And yet this neglected +drama is one of its author's great works; in one respect his greatest. +"Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play in the way of +worldly wisdom. It is filled choke-full of sententious, and in most +cases slightly satirical revelations of human nature, uttered with a +felicity of phrase and an impressiveness of metaphor that make each one +seem like a beam of light shot into the recesses of man's heart. Such +are these:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">In the reproof of chance<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lies the true proof of men.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i10">The wound of peace is surety;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Surety secure; but modest doubt is called<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beacon of the wise.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What is aught, but as 'tis valued?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">'Tis mad idolatry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make the service greater than the god.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A stirring dwarf we do allowance give<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Before a sleeping giant.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Tis certain greatness once fall'n out with fortune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must fall out with men too; what the declin'd is<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shall as soon read in the eyes of others<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Show not their mealy wings but to the summer;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a man, for being simply man,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hath any honor.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Besides passages like these, there are others of which the wisdom is +inextricably interwoven with the occasion. One would think that the +wealth of such a mine would be daily passing from mouth to mouth as the +current coin of speech; and yet of all Shakespeare's acknowledged plays, +there are only two, "The Comedy of Errors" and "The Winter's Tale," +which do not furnish more to our store of familiar quotations than this +play does, rich though it is with Shakespeare's ripest thought and most +splendid utterance. And yet by a strange compensating chance, it +furnishes the most often quoted line; a line which not one in a million +of those that use it ever saw where Shakespeare wrote it, or if they had +any brains behind their eyes, they would not use it as they do. For by +another strange chance it happens that this line is entirely perverted +from the meaning which Shakespeare gave it. As it is constantly quoted, +it is not Shakespeare's. The line is:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This has come to be always quoted with the meaning implied in the +following indication of emphasis: "One<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> touch of <i>nature</i> makes the +<i>whole world</i> kin." Shakespeare wrote no such sentimental twaddle. Least +of all did he write it in this play, in which his pen "pierces to the +dividing asunder of soul and spirit and of the joints and marrow, and is +a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." The line which +has been thus perverted into an exposition of sentimental brotherhood +among all mankind, is on the contrary one of the most cynical utterances +of an undisputable moral truth, disparaging to the nature of all +mankind, that ever came from Shakespeare's pen. Achilles keeps himself +aloof from his fellow Greeks, and takes no part in the war, sure that +his fame for valor will be untarnished. Ulysses contrives to provoke him +into a discussion, and tells him that his great deeds will be forgotten +and his fame fade into mere shadow, and that some new man will take his +place, unless he does something from time to time to keep his glory +bright. For men forget the great thing that was done, in favor of the +less that is done now.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For time is like a fashionable host<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And with his arms outstretched as he would fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grasps in the comer. Welcome ever smiles,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And farewell goes out sighing. O let not virtue seek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remuneration for the thing it was;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For beauty, wit,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To envious and calumniating time.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And then he immediately adds that there is one point on which all men +are alike, one touch of human nature which shows the kindred of all +mankind—that they slight familiar merit and prefer trivial novelty. The +next lines to those quoted above are:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That all with one consent praise new-born gauds.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though they are made and moulded of things past;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And give to dust that is a little gilt<br /></span> +<span class="i0">More sand than gilt oe'rdusted.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The meaning is too manifest to need or indeed to admit a word of +comment, and it is brought out by this emphasis: "<i>One</i> touch of nature +makes the <i>whole world kin</i>"—that one touch of their common failing +being an uneasy love of novelty. Was ever poet's or sage's meaning so +perverted, so reversed! And yet it is hopeless to think of bringing +about a change in the general use of this line and a cessation of its +perversion to sentimental purposes, not to say an application of it as +the scourge for which it was wrought; just as it is hopeless to think of +changing by any demonstration of unfitness and unmeaningness a phrase in +general use—the reason being that the mass of the users are utterly +thoughtless and careless of the right or the wrong, the fitness or the +unfitness, of the words that come from their mouths, except that they +serve their purpose for the moment. That done, what care they? And what +can we expect, when even the "Globe" edition of Shakespeare's works has +upon its very title-page and its cover a globe with a band around it, on +which is written this line in its perverted sense, that sense being +illustrated, enforced, and deepened into the general mind by the union +of the band-ends by clasped hands. I absolve, of course, the Cambridge +editors of the guilt of this twaddling misuse of Shakespeare's line; it +was a mere publisher's contrivance; but I am somewhat surprised that +they should have even allowed it such sanction as it has from its +appearance on the same title-page with their names.</p> + +<p>The undramatic character of "Troilus and Cressida," which has been +already mentioned, appears in its structure, its personages, and its +purpose. We are little interested in the fate of its personages, not +merely because we know what is to become of them, for that we know in +almost any play which has an historical subject; but the play is +constructed upon such a slight plot that it really has neither dramatic +motive nor dramatic movement. The loves of "Troilus and Cressida" are of +a kind which are interesting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> only to the persons directly involved in +them; Achilles's sulking is of even less interest; and the death of +Hector affects us only like a newspaper announcement of the death of +some distinguished person, so little is he really involved in the action +of the drama. There is also a singular lack of that peculiar +characteristic of Shakespeare's dramatic style, the marked distinction +and nice discrimination of the individual traits, mental and moral, of +the various personages. Ulysses is the real hero of the play; the chief, +or at least the great purpose of which is the utterance of the Ulyssean +view of life; and in this play Shakespeare is Ulysses, or Ulysses +Shakespeare. In all his other plays Shakespeare so lost his personal +consciousness in the individuality of his own creations that they think +and feel as well as act like real men and women other than their +creator, so that we cannot truly say of the thoughts and feelings which +they express, that Shakespeare says thus or so; for it is not +Shakespeare who speaks, but they with his lips. But in Ulysses, +Shakespeare, acting upon a mere hint, filling up a mere traditionary +outline, drew a man of mature years, of wide observation, of profoundest +cogitative power, one who knew all the weakness and all the wiles of +human nature, and who yet remained with blood unbittered and soul +unsoured—a man who saw through all shams and fathomed all motives, and +who yet was not scornful of his kind, not misanthropic, hardly cynical +except in passing moods; and what other man was this than Shakespeare +himself? What had he to do when he had passed forty years but to utter +his own thoughts when he would find words for the lips of Ulysses? And +thus it is that "Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play. If +we would know what Shakespeare thought of men and their motives after he +reached maturity, we have but to read this drama; drama it is, but with +what other character who shall say? For, like the world's pageant, it +is neither tragedy nor comedy, but a tragi-comic history, in which the +intrigues of amorous men and light-o'-loves and the brokerage of panders +are mingled with the deliberations of sages and the strife and the death +of heroes.</p> + +<p>The thoughtful reader will observe that Ulysses pervades the serious +parts of the play, which is all Ulyssean in its thought and language. +And this is the reason or rather the fact of the play's lack of +distinctive characterization. For Ulysses cannot speak all the time that +he is on the stage; and therefore the other personages, such as may, +speak Ulyssean, with, of course, such personal allusion and peculiar +trick as a dramatist of Shakespeare's skill could not leave them without +for difference. For example, no two men could be more unlike in +character than Achilles and Ulysses, and yet the former, having asked +the latter what he is reading, he, uttering his own thought, says as +follows with the subsequent reply:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Ulyss.</i>—A strange fellow here<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Writes me: That man, how dearly ever parted,<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a><br /></span> +<span class="i0">How much in having, or without or in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cannot make boast to have that which he hath<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor feels not what he owes but by reflection,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As when his virtues shining upon others<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Heat them, and they retort that heat again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the first giver.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Achil.</i>—This is not strange, Ulysses.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The beauty that is borne here in the face<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bearer knows not, but commends itself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Salutes each other with each other's form,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For speculation turns not to itself<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till it hath travelled and is mirror'd there<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Now these speeches are made of the same metal and coined in the same +mint; and they both of them have the image and superscription of William +Shakespeare. No words or thoughts could be more unsuited to that bold, +bloody egoist, "the broad Achilles," than the reply he makes to Ulysses; +but here Shakespeare was merely using the Greek champion as a lay figure +to utter his own thoughts, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> are perfectly in character with the +son of Autolycus. Ulysses thus flows over upon the whole serious part of +the play. Agamemnon, Nestor, Æneus, and the rest all talk alike, and all +like Ulysses. That Ulysses speaks for Shakespeare will, I think, be +doubted by no reader who has reached the second reading of this play by +the way which I have pointed out to him. And why, indeed, should Ulysses +not speak for Shakespeare, or how could it be other than that he should? +The man who had written "Hamlet," "King Lear," "Othello," and "Macbeth," +if he wished to find Ulysses, had only to turn his mind's eye inward; +and thus we have in this drama Shakespeare's only piece of introspective +work.</p> + +<p>But there is another personage who gives character to this drama, and +who is of a very different sort. Thersites sits with Caliban high among +Shakespeare's minor triumphs. He was brought in to please the mob. He is +the Fool of the piece, fulfilling the functions of Touchstone, and +Launce, and Launcelot, and Costard. As the gravediggers were brought +into "Hamlet" for the sake of the groundlings, so Thersites came into +"Troilus and Cressida." As if that he might leave no form of human +utterance ungilded by his genius, Shakespeare in Thersites has given us +the apotheosis of blackguardism and billingsgate. Thersites is only a +railing rascal. Some low creatures are mere bellies with no brain. +Thersites is merely mouth, but this mouth has just enough coarse brain +above it to know a wise man and a fool when he sees them. But the +railings of this deformed slave are splendid. Thersites is almost as +good as Falstaff. He is of course a far lower organization +intellectually, and somewhat lower, perhaps, morally. He is coarser in +every way; his humor, such as he has, is of the grossest kind; but still +his blackguardism is the ideal of vituperation. He is far better than +Apemantus in "Timon of Athens," for there is no hypocrisy in him, no +egoism, and, comfortable trait in such a personage, no pretence of +gentility. For good downright "sass" in its most splendid and aggressive +form, there is in literature nothing equal to the speeches of Thersites.</p> + +<p>"Troilus and Cressida" is also remarkable for its wide range of style, +because of which it is a play of great interest to the student of +Shakespeare, who here adapted his style to the character of the matter +in hand. The lighter parts remind us of his earlier manner; the graver +are altogether in his later. He did this unconsciously, or almost +unconsciously, we may be sure. None the less, however, is the play +therefore valuable in a critical point of view, but rather the more so. +It is a standing and an undeniable warning to us not to lean too much +upon any one special trait of style in estimating the time in +Shakespeare's life at which a play was produced. Moreover it illustrates +the natural course of style development, showing that it is not only +gradual, but not by regular degrees; that is, that a writer does not +pass at one period absolutely from one style to another, dropping his +previous manner and taking on another, but that he will at one time +unconsciously recur to his former manner or manners, and at a late +period show traces of his early manner. Strata of his old fashion thrust +themselves up through the newer formation. "Troilus and Cressida" is so +remarkable in this respect that the chief of the absolute-period +critics, the Rev. Mr. Fleay, has been obliged to invent a most +extraordinary theory to account for it. His view is that there are three +plots interwoven, each of which is distinct in manner of treatment, and, +moreover, that each of these was composed at a different time from the +other two. He would have us believe that the parts embodying the Troilus +and Cressida story were written in Shakespeare's earliest period, those +concerning Hector in his middle period, and the Ajax parts in the last. +That these three stories<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> were interwoven is manifest; but they came +naturally together in this Greek historical play—for it is that—and +their interweaving was hardly to have been avoided; the manner of each +is not distinct from that of the other, although there is, with +likeness, a noticeable unlikeness; but the notion that therefore +Shakespeare first wrote the Troilus and Cressida part as a play, and +then years afterward added the Hector part, and again years afterward +the Ajax and Ulysses part, seems to me only a monstrous contrivance of +an honest and an able man in desperate straits to make his theory square +with fact. As to detail upon this subject, I shall only notice one +point. Tag-rhymes, or rhymed couplets ending a scene or a speech in +blank verse or in prose, are regarded by the metre-critics (and justly +within reason) as marks of an early date of composition. Now in "Troilus +and Cressida" these abound. It contains more of them than any other +play, except one or two of the very earliest. The important point, +however, is that these rhymes appear no less in the Ulysses and Ajax +scenes of the play than in the others—a sufficient warning against +putting absolute trust in such evidence.</p> + +<p>Among those few of Shakespeare's plays which are least often read is +"All's Well that Ends Well." This one, however, is to the earnest +student one of the most interesting of the thirty-seven which bear his +name; not only because it contains some of his best and most thoughtful +work, but because, being Shakespeare's all through, it is written in two +distinct styles—styles so distinct that there can be no doubt that as +it has come down to us it is the product of two distinct periods of his +dramatic life, and those the most distant, the first and the last. Its +singularity in this respect gives it a peculiar value to the student of +Shakespeare's style and of his mental development. There is not an +interweaving of styles as in "Troilus and Cressida"; the two are +distinctly separable; and there is external historical evidence which +supports the internal.</p> + +<p>We have a record in Francis Meres's "Palladis Tamia" of a play by +Shakespeare called "Love's Labor's Won"; and there is no reasonable +doubt that that was the first name of "All's Well that Ends Well." As +the "Palladis Tamia" was published in 1598, this play was produced +before that year, and all the evidence, internal and external, goes to +show that Shakespeare wrote it soon after "Love's Labor's Lost," and as +a counterpart to that comedy. The difference of its style in various +parts had been remarked upon in general terms; but I believe that this +difference was first specially indicated in the following passage, which +I cannot do better here than to quote from the introduction to my +edition of the play published in 1857; and I do so with the greater +freedom because the particular traits which it discriminated have been +lately, in the present year, insisted upon by the Rev. Mr. Fleay, in his +very useful and suggestive, but not altogether to be trusted +"Shakespeare Manual," to which I have before referred.</p> + +<p>"It is to be observed that passages of rhymed couplets, in which the +thought is somewhat constrained and its expression limited by the form +of the verse, are scattered freely through the play, and that these are +found side by side with passages of blank verse in which the thought, on +the contrary, so entirely dominates the form, and overloads and weighs +it down, as to produce the impression that the poet, in writing them, +was almost regardless of the graces of his art, and merely sought an +expression of his ideas in the most compressed and elliptical form. The +former trait is characteristic of his youthful style; the latter marks a +certain period of his maturer years. Contracted words, which Shakespeare +used more freely in his later than in his earlier works, abound; and in +some passages words are used in an esoteric sense, which is distinctive +of the poet's style about the time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> when 'Measure for Measure' was +produced. Note, for instance, the use of 'succeed' in 'owe and succeed +thy weakness,' in Act II., Sc. 4 of that play, and in 'succeed thy +father in manners,' Act I., Sc. 1 of this. It is to be observed also +that the advice given by the Countess to Bertram when he leaves +Rousillon is so like that of Polonius to Laertes in a similar situation, +that either the latter is an expansion of the former, or the former a +reminiscence of the latter; and as the passage is written in the later +style, the second supposition appears the more probable. Finally, it is +worthy of remark that both the French officers who figure in this play +as First Lord and Second Lord are somewhat strangely named <i>Dumain</i>, and +that in 'Love's Labor's Lost' Dumain is also the name of that one of the +three attendants and brothers in love of the King who has a post in the +army; which, when taken in connection with other circumstances, is at +least a hint of some relation between the two plays."</p> + +<p>If the reader who has gone thoughtfully through the plays in the course +which I have indicated will take up this one, he will find in the very +first scene evidence and illustration of these views. It is almost +entirely in prose, which itself shows the weight of Shakespeare's mature +hand. The first blank verse is the speech of the Countess, in which she +gives a mother's counsel to Bertram as he is setting out for the wars, +as is pointed out above, and which is unmistakably of the "Hamlet" +period. Then comes a speech by Helen beginning,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O were that all! I think not on my father:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And these great tears grace his remembrance more<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than those I shed for him—<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and ending with this charming passage, referring to the growth of her +love for Bertram:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i12">'Twas pretty, though a plague,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To see him every hour; to sit and draw<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In our heart's table; heart too capable<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of every line and trick of his sweet favor:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It is needless to say to the advanced student of Shakespeare's style +that this is in his later manner. A little further on is Helen's speech +to the detestable Parolles, beginning with the mutilated line, "Not my +virginity yet," which is followed by some ten, in which she pours out in +Euphuistic phrase her love for Bertram, saying that he has in her "a +mother, and a mistress, and a friend, a counsellor, a traitress, and a +dear"; and yet further,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His humble ambition, proud humility,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of pretty, fond, adoptious Christendoms<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That blinking Cupid gossips.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>This will remind the reader of Scott's Euphuist, Sir Piercie Shafton, +who, if I remember aright, uses some of these very phrases, in which +Shakespeare has beaten Lilly at his own weapons, and made his affected +phraseology the vehicle of the touching utterance of real feeling. +"Euphues" was published in 1580, when Shakespeare was only sixteen years +old; and this passage, although it may have been written or perhaps +altered later, was probably a part of the play as it was first produced. +The scene ends with the following speech by Helen, which, for its +peculiar characteristics, is worth quoting entire. The reader who will +compare it with "Love's Labor's Lost" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream" +will have not a moment's doubt as to the time when it was written:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What power is it which mounts my love so high<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That makes me see and cannot feed mine eye?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The mightiest space in fortune nature brings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To join like likes and kiss like native things.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Impossible be strange attempts to those<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What hath been cannot be: whoever strove<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To show her merit that did miss her love?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The king's disease—my project may deceive me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But my intents are fixed and will not leave me.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Besides its formal construction and its rhyme, this passage is overmuch +afflicted with youngness to be accepted as the product of any other +than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> Shakespeare's very earliest period. Of like quality to this are +other passages scattered through the play. For example, the Countess's +speech, Act I., Sc. 3, beginning, "Even so it was with me"; all the +latter part of Act II., Sc. 1, from Helen's speech, "What I can do," +etc., to the end, seventy lines; passages in the third scene of this +act, which the reader cannot now fail at once to detect for himself; +Helen's letter, Act III., Sc. 4, and Parolles's, Act IV., Sc. 3; and +various passages in the last act. Shakespeare, I have no doubt, wrote +this play at first nearly all in rhyme in the earliest years of his +dramatic life, and afterward, late in his career, possibly on two +occasions, rewrote it and gave it a new name; using prose, to save time +and labor, in those passages the elevation of which did not require +poetical treatment, and in those which were suited to such treatment +giving us true, although not highly finished specimens of his grand +style.</p> + +<p>A few of the plays now remain unnoticed; but our purpose is accomplished +without further particular remark. The reader who has gone thus far with +me needs me no longer as a guide. The Roman plays, "Coriolanus," "Julius +Cæsar," and "Antony and Cleopatra," particularly the last, should now +receive his careful attention. In "The Winter's Tale," "The Tempest," +and "Henry VIII." he will find the very last productions of +Shakespeare's pen, and in the first and the third of these he will find +marks of hasty work both in the versification and in the construction; +but the touch of the master is unmistakable quite through them all, and +"The Tempest" is one of the most perfect of his works in all respects. +No true lover of Shakespeare should neglect the Sonnets, although many +do neglect them. They are inferior to the plays; but only to them.</p> + +<p>As to helps to the understanding of Shakespeare, those who can +understand him at all need none except a good critical edition. And by a +good critical edition I mean only one which gives a good text, with +notes where they are needed upon obscure constructions, obsolete words +or phrases, manners and customs, and the like. Of the plays in the +Clarendon Press series, "The Merchant of Venice," "Richard II.," +"Macbeth," "Hamlet," and "King Lear," better editions cannot be had, +particularly for readers inexperienced in verbal criticism. Those who +find any difficulty which the notes to those editions do not explain may +be pretty sure that, with the exception of a very few passages the +corruption of which is admitted on all hands, the trouble is not with +Shakespeare or the editor. Shakespeare read in the way which I have +indicated, and with the help of such an edition, has a high educating +value, and in particular will give the reader an insight into the +English language, if not a mastery of it, that is worth a course of all +the text-books of grammar and rhetoric that have been written ten times +over. As to editions, I shall give only one caution. Do not get Dyce's. +Mr. Dyce was a scholar, a man of fine taste, most thoroughly read in +English literature, particularly in that of the Elizabethan period. He +was a man for whom I had a very high respect, and whom I had reason to +regard with a somewhat warmer feeling than that of a mere literary +acquaintance. This and my deference to his age and his position +prevented me from saying during his life what there is no reason that I +should not say now—that in my opinion he was one of the most +unsuccessful of Shakespeare's editors. His edition is one of the worst +that has been published in the last century, both for its text and, +except as to their learning, for its notes. With all my deferential +respect for him,<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> I was prepared for this result before the +appearance of the first of his three editions. Being in correspondence +with him, and on such terms that I could make such a request, I asked +him to send me some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> sheets of his edition while it was passing through +the press. He replied that he could not do this; but the reason that he +gave was, not any unwillingness to confide them to me, but that it was +then impossible, because after his edition was half struck off he had +cancelled the greater part of it on account of changes in his opinions +as to the reading of so many passages! And this after he was well in +years; after having passed his life in the study of Elizabethan +literature; and after having edited Beaumont and Fletcher! I was never +more amazed. Such a man could have no principles of criticism. How could +he guide others who after such study was not sure of his own way? With +all his knowledge of the literature and the literary history of the +Elizabethan period, he seemed to lack the power of putting himself in +sympathy with Shakespeare as he wrote. Hence the crudity and incongruity +of his text, his vacillating opinions, and the weakness and poverty of +his annotation.</p> + +<p>Of criticism of what has been called the higher kind, I recommend the +reading of very little, or better, none at all. Read Shakespeare; seek +aid to understand his language, if that be in any way obscure to you; +but that once comprehended, apprehension of his purpose and meaning will +come untold to those who can attain it in any way. In my own edition I +avoided as much as possible the introduction of æsthetic criticism, not +because I felt incapable of writing it; for it is easy work; on the +contrary, I freely essayed it when it was necessary as an aid to the +settlement of the text, or of like questions; and by its use I think +that I succeeded in establishing some points of importance. But in my +judgment the duty of an editor is performed when he puts the reader, as +nearly as possible, in the same position, for the apprehension of his +author's meaning, that he would have occupied if he had been +contemporary with him and had received from him a correct copy of his +writings. More than this seems to me to verge upon impertinence. Upon +this point I find myself supported by William Aldis Wright,<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> who is +in my judgment the ablest of all the living editors of Shakespeare; who +brings to his task a union of scholarship, critical judgment, and common +sense, which is very rare in any department of literature, and +particularly in Shakespearian criticism, and whose labors in this +department of letters are small and light in comparison with the graver +studies in which he is constantly engaged. He, in the preface to his +lately published edition of "King Lear" in the Clarendon Press series, +says: "It has been objected to the editions of Shakespeare's plays in +the Clarendon Press series that the notes are too exclusively of a +verbal character, and that they do not deal with æsthetic, or as it is +called, the higher criticism. So far as I have had to do with them, I +frankly confess that æsthetic notes have been deliberately and +intentionally omitted, because one main object in these editions is to +induce those for whom they are especially designed to read and study +Shakespeare himself, and not to become familiar with opinions about him. +Perhaps, too, it is because I cannot help experiencing a certain feeling +of resentment when I read such notes, that I am unwilling to intrude +upon others what I should regard myself as impertinent. They are in +reality too personal and objective, and turn the commentator into a +showman. With such sign-post criticism I have no sympathy. Nor do I wish +to add to the awful amazement which must possess the soul of Shakespeare +when he knows of the manner in which his works have been tabulated, and +classified, and labelled with a purpose, after the most approved method, +like modern <i>tendenzschriften</i>. Such criticism applied to Shakespeare is +nothing less than gross anachronism."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> +<p>Not a little of the Shakespearian criticism of this kind that exists is +the mere result of an effort to say something fine about what needs no +such gilding, no such prism-play of light to enhance or to bring out its +beauties. I will not except from these remarks much of what Coleridge +himself has written about Shakespeare. But the German critics whom he +emulated are worse than he is. Avoid them. The German pretence that +Germans have taught us folk of English blood and speech to understand +Shakespeare is the most absurd and arrogant that could be set up. +Shakespeare owes them nothing; and we have received from them little +more than some maundering mystification and much ponderous platitude. +Like the western diver, they go down deeper and stay down longer than +other critics, but like him too they come up muddier. Above all of them, +avoid Ulrici and Gervinus. The first is a mad mystic, the second a very +literary Dogberry, endeavoring to comprehend all vagrom men, and +bestowing his tediousness upon the world with a generosity that +surpasses that of his prototype. Both of them thrust themselves and +their "fanned and winnowed opinions" upon him in such an obtrusive way +that if he could come upon the earth again and take his pen in his hand, +I would not willingly be in the shoes of either. He would hand them down +to posterity the laughing stock of men for ever.</p> + +<p>Not Shakespeare only has suffered from this sort of criticism. The great +musicians fare ill at their hands. One of them, Schlüter, writing of +Mozart, says of his E flat, G minor, C (Jupiter) symphonies:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It is evident that these three magnificent works—produced +consecutively and at short intervals—are the embodiment of +<i>one</i> train of thought pursued with increasing ardor; so that +taken as a whole they form a grand <i>trilogy</i>.... These three +grandest of Mozart's symphonies (the first lyrical, the second +tragic-pathetic, and the third of ethical import) correspond to +his three greatest operas, "Figaro," "Don Giovanni," and "Die +Zauberflöte."</p></div> + +<p>Now, I venture to say, that there is no such consecutive train of +thought, and no such correspondence. Ethical import in the Jupiter and +in the "Zauberflöte," and correspondence between them! Mozart did not +evolve musical elephants out of his moral consciousness. But a German +professor of <i>esthetik</i> is not happy until he has discovered a trilogy +and an inner life. Those found, he goes off with ponderous serenity into +the <i>ewigkeit</i>.</p> + +<p>I have been asked, apropos of these articles, to give some advice as to +the formation of Shakespeare clubs. The best thing that can be done +about that matter is to let it alone entirely. According to my +observation, Shakespeare clubs do not afford their members any +opportunities of study or even of enjoyment of his works which are not +attainable otherwise. And how should they do so except by the formation +of libraries for the use of their members? In this respect they may be +of some use, but not of much. Few books, a very few, are necessary for +the intelligent and earnest student of Shakespeare, and those almost +every such student can obtain for himself. As I have said, a good +critical edition is all that is required; and whoever desires to wander +into the wilderness of Shakespearian commentary will find in the public +libraries ample opportunities of doing so. I have observed that those +who read Shakespeare most and understand him best do not use even +critical editions, except for occasional reference, but take the text by +itself, pure and simple. An edition with a good text, brief +introductions to each play, giving only ascertained facts, and a few +notes, glossological and historical, at the foot of the page, is still a +desideratum. Quiet reading with such an edition as this at hand will do +more good than all the Shakespeare clubs ever established have done. I +have seen something of such associations; and I have observed in them a +tendency on one hand to a feeble and fussy literary antiquarianism, and +on the other to conviviality; a thing not bad in itself, and indeed, +within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> bounds, much better than the other; but which has as little to +do as that has (and it could not have less) with an intelligent study of +Shakespeare. There is hardly anything less admirable to a reasonable +creature than the assemblage at stated times of a number of +semi-literary people to potter over Shakespeare and display before each +other their second-hand enthusiasm about "the bard of Avon," as they +generally delight to call him. Now, a true lover of Shakespeare never +calls him the bard of Avon, or a bard of anything; and he reads him o' +nights and ponders over him o' days while he is walking, or smoking, or +at night again while he is waking in his bed. If he is too poor to buy a +copy offhand, he saves up his pennies till he can get one, and he does +not trouble himself about the commentators or the mulberry tree. He +would not give two pence to sit in a chair made of it; for he knows that +he could not tell it from any other chair, and that it would not help +him to understand or to enjoy one line in "Hamlet," or "Lear," or +"Othello," or "As You Like It," or "The Tempest." These remarks have no +reference of course to such societies as the Shakespeare Societies of +London, past and present. They are associations of scholars for the +purpose of original investigations, and which they print for the use of +their subscribers, and for the republication of valuable and scarce +books and papers having a bearing upon Shakespeare and the literary +history of his time. We have no such material in this country. Whoever +wishes to go profoundly into the study of Shakespearian, or rather of +Elizabethan literature, would do well to obtain a set of the old +Shakespeare Society's publications, and to become a subscriber to the +other Shakespeare society, which is doing good thorough work. Clubs +might well be formed for the obtaining of these books and others, for +the use of their members who cannot afford or who do not care to buy +them for their own individual property; although a book really owned is, +I cannot say exactly why, worth more to a reader than one belonging to +some one else. But all other Shakespeare clubs are mere vanity. The true +Shakespeare lover is a club unto himself.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Richard Grant White.</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <i>I. e.</i>, gifted, endowed with parts.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> See "Shakespeare's Scholar," <i>passim.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and one of the +editors of the Cambridge edition.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_PHILTER" id="THE_PHILTER"></a>THE PHILTER.</h2> + +<h3>A LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR'S TIME.</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dying afar in Brittany,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The gallant Tristram lay;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His gentle bride's sweet ministry,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her tender touch and way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That erstwhile brought the rest he sought,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No more held soothing sway.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The naming of her tuneful name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Isoude—so sweet to hear<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Because its music was the same<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With one long holden dear—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Now, like a bell discordant, fell,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And brought but mocking cheer.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Her eyne so blue, with lids so white,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her tresses from their snood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That rippling ambered all the light<br /></span> +<span class="i2">About her where she stood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Served only now to cloud his brow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who longed for lost Isoude—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Isoude, who charmed him once when storm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Had blown his ship ashore<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On Ireland's coast; Isoude, whose form<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bewitched him more and more,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As mem'ry came, his love to flame,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When hope, alas! was o'er:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Isoude, who sailed with him the sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Across to Cornwall land,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To marry Mark, whose treachery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Did Tristram's faith command<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To win her grace for kingly place,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And his own heart withstand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">On sultry deck becalmed they pine;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Careless, their thirst to ease,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A philter—mixt for bridal wine—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her lip beguiles, and his:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O subtle draught unconscious quaffed!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They drained it to the lees—<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until in Tristram's knightly form<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All joy for her seemed blent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until her cheek could only warm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Beneath his gaze intent;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until her heart sought him apart,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whoever came or went;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until the potion did beget<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An all-enduring spell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Albeit Cornwall's king now met<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And liked her fairness well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And claimed her hand, while through the land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rang sound of marriage bell;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Until, as fragrance from a flower,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">True love outbrake control,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And dropped its sweetness as a shower<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of pearls, that threadless roll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To find their rest in some near nest;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her home, Sir Tristram's soul!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And he, though frequent jousts he won;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Though many a valiant deed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of prowess made his fame outrun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The claim of knightly creed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though maidens oft their glances soft<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Bestowed in tenderest meed;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though Brittany upon him prest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A bride, in gratitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For service done; and though the quest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sacred grail subdued<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His full heart-beat of smothered heat—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He loved but <i>Queen</i> Isoude!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And now with holy vows all tossed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of fever's frantic sway—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As mariner whose bark is crossed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Upon a peaceful way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By winds that lure from purpose pure<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And well-meant plans bewray—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He bade a trusty servitor<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Cornwall's queen forthwith.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Take this," he said, "and show to her<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How great my languor, sith<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This signet's round will not be found<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bear one hurted lith.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Say that Sir Tristram prays her aid,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And so he prays not vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let sails of silken white be made,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose gleam shall heal my pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As hither borne some favoring morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love claims his own again!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But if she yield no heed to these<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fond cravings of love's breath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then bearing on the burdened breeze<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Let sail that shadoweth,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of darkest dark, beshroud the bark,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A presage of my death."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So spake the Lord of Lyonesse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And bode his joy or bale;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While jealous of her right to bless,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The wife Isoude, grown pale<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As buds of light that shrink from night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Made sad and lonely wail:<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Alas! all one the loss to me,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My lord alive or dead,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If life of his by sorcery<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of this fair queen be fed."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then adding, "Be her answer <i>nay</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hope yet to hope is wed."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She scanned the sea. On waves of balm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A white sail of rare glow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Came rounding to the harbor's calm<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With fullest promise—lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bleak winds arise, as false she cries,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"<i>A black sail entereth</i> slow."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Too weak to battle with his grief,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sir Tristram breathed a sigh—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Alack, that Isoude's sweet relief<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should fail me where I lie:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sith not for me her face to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is but to droop and die."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Black sails are hoisted now in truth!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They wing two forms to rest:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Cornwall's queen a-cold, in ruth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fell prone on Tristram's breast;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Cornwall's knight for kinsman's right<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of shrine had made request.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A letter lay upon the bier,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And this the word it bare:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"O love is sweet, O love is dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And followeth everywhere<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whoso has drained the chalice stained<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With its red wine and rare.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O love is dear, O love is sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And yet, of faith's decree<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would Honor quench beneath stern feet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Love's bloom if that need be.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O King, one wills. But Love distils<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His philters fatefully!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Then did the King in penitence<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Weep dole for these two dead.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some slight remorse had pricked his sense<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That he through wile had wed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His best knight's love; alas, to prove<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such end, so ill bestead!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In royal crypt he bade the twain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Be laid; and there a vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er which the murderous scythe was vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sprang up the graves to twine,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Defying death with its green breath:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">True plant of seed divine!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i23"><span class="smcap">Mary B. Dodge.</span><br /></span> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="MISS_MISANTHROPE" id="MISS_MISANTHROPE"></a>MISS MISANTHROPE.</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Justin McCarthy.</span></h3> + + +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + +<h4>MISS MISANTHROPE.</h4> + +<p>The little town of Dukes-Keeton, in one of the more northern of the +midland counties, had in its older days two great claims to +consideration. One was a park, the other a sweetmeat. The noble family +whose name had passed through many generations of residence at the place +had always left their great park so freely open to every one, that it +came to be like the common property of the public, and the town had +grown into fame by the manufacture of the sweetmeat which bore its name +almost everywhere in the track of the meteor-flag of England. But as +time went on other places took to manufacturing the sweetmeat so much +better, and selling it so much more successfully than "Keeton," as the +town was commonly called, could do, that "Keeton" itself had long since +retired from the business, and was content to import the delicacy which +still bore its own name in consignments of canisters from Manchester or +London. During many years the heir of the noble family had deserted the +park, and absolutely never came near it or near England even, and +everything that gave the town a distinct reason for existence seemed to +be passing rapidly into tradition. It had lain out of the track of the +railway system for a long time, and when the railway system at length +enclosed it in its arms, the attention seemed to have come too late. All +the heat of life appeared to have chilled out of Dukes-Keeton in the +mean time, and it lay now between two railways almost as inanimate and +hopeless a lump as the child to whom the Erl-king's touch is fatal in +his father's arms.</p> + +<p>The park, with its huge palace-like, barrack-like house, not a castle, +and too great to be called merely a hall, lies almost immediately +outside the town. From streets and shops the visitor passes straightway +through the gates of the great enclosure. Every stranger who has seen +the house is taken at once to see another object of interest.</p> + +<p>In the centre of the park was a broad, clear space, made by the felling +and removing of every tree, until it spread there sharp and hard as a +burnt-out patch in a forest. Gravel and small shells made the pavement +of this space, and thus formed a new contrast with the turf, the +grasses, and the underwood of the park all around. In the midst of this +open space there rose a large circular building: a tower low in height +when the bulk enclosed by its circumference was considered, and standing +on a great square platform of solid masonry with steps on each of its +sides. The tower itself reminded one of the tomb of Cecilia Metella, or +some other of the tombs that still stand near Rome. It was in fact the +mausoleum which it had pleased the father of the present owner to have +erected for himself during his lifetime. He lavished money on it, cared +nothing for the cost of materials and labor, planned it out himself, +watched every detail, and stood by the workmen as they toiled. Within he +had prepared a lordly reception-room for his dead body when he should +come to die. A superb sarcophagus of porphyry, fit to have received the +remains of a Cæsar, was there. When the work was done and all was ready, +the lonely owner visited it every day, unlocked its massive gate, and +went in, and sat sometimes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> for hours in his own mausoleum. He was +growing insane, people thought, in these later days, and they counted on +his soon becoming an actual madman. So far, however, he showed no +greater madness than in wasting his money on a huge tomb, and wasting so +much of his time in visiting it prematurely. The tomb proved a vanity in +a double sense. For the noble owner was seized with a sudden mania for +travel, and resolved to go round the world. Somewhere in mid ocean he +was attacked by fever, or what alarmed people called the plague, and he +died, and his body had to be committed without much delay or ceremonial +to the sea. He had built his monument to no purpose. He was never to +occupy it. It stood a vast and solid gibe at the vanity of its founder.</p> + +<p>Over the great gate through which the mausoleum was entered were three +heads sculptured in stone. One was that of a man in the prime of +manhood, with lips and eyebrows contracted and puckered, forehead +wrinkled, eyes full of anxious strain, all telling of care, of pain, of +sleepless struggle against difficulty, watchfulness to ward off danger. +This was Life. The next was the face of the same man with the eyes +closed and the cheeks sunken, and the expression of one who had fallen +into sleep from pain—the struggle and agony gone indeed, but their +shadow still resting on the brows and the lips: and that of course was +Death. The third piece of carving showed the same face still, but now +with clear eyes looking broadly and brightly forward, and with features +all noble, serene, and glad. This was Eternity. These three faces were +the wonder and admiration of the neighborhood, and had been for now some +years back employed to solve the problem of existence for all the little +lads and lasses of Keeton who might otherwise have failed sometimes to +see the harmonious purpose working in all things. The sculptor had it +all his own way, and took care that Life should have the worst of it. +Keeton was in almost all its conditions a place of rather sleepy +contentment, and its people could be trusted to take just as much of the +moral as was good for them, and not to carry to extremes the lesson as +to the discomfort and dissatisfaction of the probationary life-period. +Otherwise there might perhaps be a chance that impressionable, not to +say morbid, persons would desire to hurry very rapidly through the dark +and anxious vestibule of life in order to get into the broad bright +temple of Eternity.</p> + +<p>Some thought like this was passing through the mind of Miss Minola Grey, +who sat on the steps of the tomb and looked up into the faces +illustrative of man's struggle and final success. Life had long been +wearing a hard and difficult appearance to her, and she would perhaps +have been glad enough sometimes if she could have got into the haven of +quiet waters which, in the minds of so many people and in so many +symbolic representations, is made to stand for Eternity. She was a +handsome, graceful girl, rather tall, fair-haired, with deep bluish gray +eyes which seemed to darken as they looked earnestly at any one—eyes +which might be described in Matthew Arnold's words as "too expressive to +be blue, too lovely to be gray"—with a broad forehead, from which the +hair was thrown back in disregard of passing fashions. Perhaps it was +her attitude, as she leaned her chin upon her hand and looked up at the +mausoleum—perhaps it was the presence of that gloomy building +itself—that made her face seem like an illustration of melancholy. +Certainly her face was pale and a little wanting in fulness, and the +lips were of the kind that one can always think of as tremulous with +emotion of some kind. This was a beautiful summer evening, and all the +park around was green, sunny, and glad. The dry bare spot on which the +tomb was built seemed like a gray and withering leaf on a bright branch; +and the figure of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> girl was more in keeping with the melancholy +shadow of the mausoleum than the joyousness of the sun and the trees and +the whole scene all around.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there was a good deal of melancholy in the girl's mind at that +moment. She was taking leave of the place: had come to say it a +farewell. That park had been her playground, her studio, her stage, her +world of fancy and romance and poetry since her infancy. She had driven +her brother as a horse there, and had played with him at hunting lions. +She had studied landscape drawing there from the days when a half +staggery stroke with some blotches out of it was supposed to represent a +tree, and a thing shaped like the trade-mark on Mr. Bass's beer bottles +stood for a mountain. As she grew up she came there to read and to idle +and to think. There she revelled in all the boundless fancies and +extravagant ambitions of a clever, half-poetic child. There she was in +turn the heroine of every book that delighted her, and the heroine of +stories which had never been put into print. Heroes of surpassing +beauty, strength, courage, and devotion had rambled under these trees +for years with her, nor had the new-comer's presence ever been made a +cause of jealousy or complaint by the one whom his coming displaced. +They were a strange procession of all complexions and garbs. Achilles +the golden-haired had been with her in his day, and so had the +melancholy Master of Ravenswood: and the young Djalma, the lover of +Adrienne of the "Juif Errant," forgotten of English girls to-day; and +Nello, the proud gondolier lad with the sweet voice, who was loved by +the mother and the daughter of the Aldinis; and the unnamed youth who +went mad for Maud; and Henry Esmond, and Stunning Warrington, and Jane +Eyre's Rochester, and ever so many else. Each and all of these in turn +loved her and was passionately loved by her, and all had done great +things for her; and for each she had done far greater things. She had +made them victorious, crowned them with laurels, died for them. It was a +peculiarity of her temperament that when she read some pathetic story it +was not at the tragic passages that her tears came. It was not the +deaths that touched her most. It was when she read of bold and generous +things suddenly done, of splendid self-sacrifice, of impossible rescue +and superhuman heroism, that she could not keep down her feelings, and +was glad when only the watching, untelltale trees could see the tears in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>She had, however, two heroes chief over all the rest, whose story she +found it impossible to keep apart, and whom she blended commonly into +one odd compound. These were Hamlet and Alceste, the "Misanthrope" of +Molière. It was sometimes Alceste who offered to be buried quick with +Ophelia in the grave; and it was often Hamlet who interjected his scraps +of poetic cynicism between the pretty and scandalous prattlings of +Célimène and her petticoaterie. But perhaps Alceste came nearest to the +heart of our young maid as she grew up. She said to herself over and +over again that "C'est n'estimer rien qu'estimer tout le monde." She +refused "d'un cœur la vaste complaisance qui ne fait de mérite aucune +différence," and declared that "pour le trancher net l'ami du genre +humain n'est point du tout mon fait." No doubt there was unconscious or +only half conscious affectation in this, as there is in the ways of +almost all young people who are fond of reading; and her way of thinking +herself a girl-Alceste would probably have vanished with other whims, or +been supplanted by fancies of imitation caught from other models, if +everything had gone well with her. But several causes conspired as she +grew into a woman to make her think very seriously that Alceste was not +wrong in his general estimate of men and their merits. She was intensely +fond of her mother, and when her mother died her father married<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> again, +his second wife being a young woman who put him under the most absolute +control, being not by any means an ill-natured person, but only +strong-willed, serene, and stupid. Then her brother, to whom she was +devoted, and who was her absolute confidant, went away to Canada, +declaring he would not stand a stepmother, and that as soon as his +sister grew old enough to put away domestic control he would send for +her; and he soon got married and became a prominent member of the +Dominion Legislature, and in none of his not over frequent letters said +a word about his promise to send for her. Now, her father was some time +dead; her stepmother had married Mr. Saulsbury, an elderly Nonconformist +minister, who was shocked at all the ways of Alceste's admirer, and with +whom she could not get on. It would take a very sweet and resigned +nature to make one who had had these experiences absolutely in love with +the human race, and especially with men; and Alceste accordingly became +more dear than ever to Miss Grey.</p> + +<p>Now she was about to leave the place and open of her own accord a new +chapter in life. She had to escape at once from the dislike of some and +the still less endurable liking of others. She was determined to go, and +yet as she looked around upon the place, and all its dear sweet memories +filled her, it is no wonder if she envied the calmness of the face that +symbolized eternal rest. At last she broke down, and covered her face +with her hands, and gave herself up to tears.</p> + +<p>Her quick ears, however, heard sounds which she knew were not those of +the rustling woods. She started to her feet and dried her eyes hastily. +Straight before her now there lay the long broad path through the trees +which led up to the gate of the mausoleum. The air was so exquisitely +pure and still that the footfall of a person approaching could be +distinctly heard by the girl, although the newcomer was yet far away. +She could see him, however, and recognized him, and she had no doubt +that he had seen her. A thought of escape at first occurred to her; but +she gave it up in a moment, for she knew that the person approaching had +come to seek her, and must have seen her before she saw him. So she sat +down again defiantly and waited. She did not look his way, although he +raised his hat to her more than once.</p> + +<p>As he comes near we can see that he is a handsome, rather stiff looking +man, with full formal dark whiskers, clearly cut face, and white teeth. +His hat is very shiny. He wears a black frock coat buttoned across the +chest, and dark trowsers, and dainty little boots, and gray gloves, and +has a diamond pin in his necktie. He is Mr. Augustus Sheppard, a very +considerable person indeed in the town. Dukes-Keeton, it should be said, +had three classes or estates. The noble owners of the park and the +guests whom they used to bring to visit them in their hospitable days +made one estate. The upper class of the town made another estate; and +the working people and the poor generally made the third. These three +classes (there were at present only two of them represented in Keeton) +were divided by barriers which it never occurred to any imagination to +think of getting over. Mr. Augustus Sheppard was a leading man among the +townspeople. His father was a solicitor and land agent of old standing, +and Mr. Augustus followed his father's profession, and now did by far +the greater part of its work. He was a member of the Church of England +of course, but he made it part of his duty to be on the best terms with +the Dissenters, for Keeton was growing to be very strong in dissent of +late years. Mr. Augustus Sheppard had done a great deal for the mental +and other improvement of the town. It was he who got up the Mutual +Improvement Society, and made himself responsible for the rent of the +hall in which the winter course of lectures, organized by him, used to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +take place; and he always gave a lecture himself every season, and he +took the chair very often and introduced other lecturers. He always +worked most cordially with the Rev. Mr. Saulsbury in trying to restrict +the number of public houses, and he was one of the few persons whom Mrs. +Saulsbury cordially admired. He had a word of formal kindness for every +one, and was never heard to say an ill-natured thing of any one behind +his or her back. He was vaguely believed to be ambitious of worldly +success, but only in a proper and becoming way, and far-seeing people +looked forward to finding him one day in the House of Commons.</p> + +<p>As he came near the mausoleum he raised his hat again, and then the girl +acknowledged his salute and stood up.</p> + +<p>"A very lovely evening, Miss Grey."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Miss Grey, and no more.</p> + +<p>"I have been at your house, Miss Grey, and saw your people; and I heard +that possibly you were in the park. I thought perhaps you would have +been at home. When I saw you last night you seemed to believe that you +would be at home all the day." This was said in a gentle tone of implied +reproach.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> spoke then of walking in the park, Mr. Sheppard."</p> + +<p>"And I have kept my word, you see," Mr. Sheppard said, not observing the +implied reason for her change of purpose.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see it now," she answered, as one who should say, "I did not +count upon it then."</p> + +<p>Of all men else, Minola Grey would have avoided him. She knew only too +well what he had come for. She would perhaps have disliked him for that +in any case, but she certainly disliked him on his own account. His +formal and heavy manners impressed her disagreeably, and she liked to +say things that puzzled and startled him. It was a pleasure to her to +throw some paradox or odd saying at him, and watch his awkward attempts +to catch it, and then while he was just on the point of getting at some +idea of it to bewilder him with some new enigma. To her he seemed to be +what he was not, simply a sham, a heavy piece of hypocrisy. Formalism +and ostentatious piety she recognized as part of the business of a +Nonconformist minister, in whom they were excusable, as his grave garb +would be, but they seemed insufferably out of place when adopted by a +layman and a man of the world, who was still young.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to have found you at last," Mr. Sheppard said, with a grave +smile.</p> + +<p>"You might have found me at first," Minola said, quoting from Artemus +Ward, "if you had come a little sooner, Mr. Sheppard. I have only lately +escaped here."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had known, and I would have come a great deal sooner. May I +take the liberty of sitting beside you?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to stand, Mr. Sheppard. But that need not prevent you from +sitting."</p> + +<p>"I should not think of sitting unless you do. Shall we walk a little +among the trees? This is a gloomy spot for a young lady."</p> + +<p>"I prefer to stand here for a little, Mr. Sheppard, but don't let me +keep you from enjoying a walk."</p> + +<p>"Enjoying a walk?" he said, with a grave smile and solemn emphasis. +"Enjoying a walk, Miss Grey—and without you?"</p> + +<p>She deliberately avoided meeting the glance with which he was +endeavoring to give additional meaning to this polite speech. She knew +that he had come to make love to her; and though she was longing to have +the whole thing done with, as it must be settled one way or the other, +she detested and dreaded the ordeal, and would have put it off if she +could. So she did not give any sign of having understood or even heard +his words, and the opportunity for going on with his purpose, which he +had hoped to extract, was lost for the moment. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> truth, Mr. Sheppard +was afraid of this girl, and she knew it, and liked him none the more +for it.</p> + +<p>"I have been studying something with great interest, Mr. Sheppard," she +began, as if determined to cut him off from his chance for the present. +"I have made a discovery."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, Miss Grey? Yes—I saw that you were in deep contemplation as I +came along, and I wondered within myself what could have been the +subject of your thoughts."</p> + +<p>She colored a little and looked suddenly at him, asking herself whether +he could have seen her tears. His face, however, gave no explanation, +and she felt assured that he had not seen them.</p> + +<p>"I have found, Mr. Sheppard, that some of the weaknesses of men are +alive in the insect world."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, Miss Grey? Some of the affections of men do indeed live, we are +told, in the insect world. So beautifully ordained is everything——"</p> + +<p>"The affectations I meant, not the affections of men, Mr. Sheppard. +Could you ever have believed that an insect would be capable of a +deliberate attempt at imposture?"</p> + +<p>"I should certainly not have looked for anything of the kind, Miss Grey. +But there is unfortunately so much of evil mixed up with all——"</p> + +<p>"So there is. I was going to tell you that as I came here and passed +through the garden, my attention was directed—is not that the proper +way to put it?"</p> + +<p>"To put it, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; my attention was directed to a large, heavy, respectable +blue-bottle fly. He kept flying from flower to flower, and burying his +stupid head in every one in turn, and making a ridiculous noise. I +watched his movements for a long time. It was evident to the meanest +understanding that he was trying to attract attention and was hoping the +eyes of the world were on him. You should have seen his pretence at +enjoying the flowers and drinking in sweetness from them—and he stayed +longest on the wrong flowers!"</p> + +<p>"Dear me! Now why did he do that?"</p> + +<p>"Because he didn't know any better, and he was trying to make us think +he did."</p> + +<p>"But, Miss Grey—a fly—a blue-bottle! Now really—how did you know what +he was thinking of?"</p> + +<p>"I watched him closely—and I found him out at last. Have you not +guessed what the meaning of the whole thing was?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Grey, I can't say that I quite understand it just yet; but I +am sure I shall be greatly interested on hearing the explanation."</p> + +<p>"It was simply the imposture of a blue-bottle trying to pass himself off +as a bee! It was man's affectation put under the microscope!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Sheppard looked up at her in the hope of catching from her face some +clear intimation as to whether she was in jest or earnest, and demeaning +himself accordingly. But her eyes were cast down and he could not make +out the riddle. Driven by desperation, he dashed in, to prevent the +possible propounding of another before he had time to come to his point.</p> + +<p>"All the professions of men are not affectations, Miss Grey! Oh, no: far +from it indeed. There are some feelings in our breasts which are only +too real!"</p> + +<p>She saw that the declaration was coming now and must be confronted.</p> + +<p>"I have long wished for an opportunity of revealing to you some of my +feelings, Miss Grey, and I hope the chance has now arrived. May I +speak?"</p> + +<p>"I can't prevent you from speaking, Mr. Sheppard."</p> + +<p>"You will hear me?"</p> + +<p>He was in such fear of her and so awkward about the terms of his +declaration of love that he kept clutching at every little straw that +seemed to give him something to hold on to for a moment's rest and +respite.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I had better hear you, I suppose," she said with an air of profound +depression, "if you will go on, Mr. Sheppard. But if you would please +me, you would stop where you are and say no more."</p> + +<p>"You know what I am going to say, Miss Grey—you must have known it this +long time. I have asked your natural guardians and advisers, and they +encourage me to speak. Oh, Miss Grey—I love you. May I hope that I may +look forward to the happiness of one day making you my wife?"</p> + +<p>It was all out now, and she was glad. The rest would be easy. He looked +even then so prosaic and formal that she did not believe in any of his +professed emotions, and she was therefore herself unmoved.</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Sheppard," she said, looking calmly at him straight in the +face. "Such a day will never come. Nothing that I have seen in life +makes me particularly anxious to be married; and I could not marry you."</p> + +<p>He had expected evasion, but not bluntness. He knew well enough that the +girl did not love him, but he had believed that he could persuade her to +marry him. Now her pointblank refusal completely staggered him.</p> + +<p>"Why not, Miss Grey?" was all he could say at first.</p> + +<p>"Because, Mr. Sheppard, I really much prefer not to marry you."</p> + +<p>"There is not any one else?" he asked, his face for the first time +showing emotion and anger.</p> + +<p>The faint light of a melancholy smile crossed Minola's face. He grew +more angry.</p> + +<p>"Miss Grey—now, you must tell me that! I have a right to ask—yes: and +your people would expect me to ask. You must tell me <i>that</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, "if you force me to it, and if you will have an +answer, I must give you one, Mr. Sheppard. I have a lover already, and I +mean to keep him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Sheppard was positively shocked by the suddenness and coolness of +this revelation. He recovered himself, however, and took refuge in +unbelief.</p> + +<p>"Miss Grey, you don't mean it, I know—I can't believe it. Why, I have +known you and seen you grow up since you were a child. Mrs. Saulsbury +couldn't but know——"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Saulsbury knows nothing of me: we know nothing of each other. I +<i>have</i> a lover, Mr. Sheppard, for all that. Do you want to know his +name?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to know his name, certainly," the breathless Sheppard +stammered out.</p> + +<p>"His name is Alceste——"</p> + +<p>"A Frenchman!" Sheppard was aghast.</p> + +<p>"A Frenchman truly—a French gentleman—a man of truth and courage and +spirit and honor and everything good. A man who wouldn't tell a lie or +do a mean thing, or flatter a silly woman, or persecute a very unhappy +girl—no, not to save his soul, Mr. Sheppard. Do you happen to know any +such man?"</p> + +<p>"No such man lives in Keeton." He was surprised into simple earnestness. +"At least I don't know of any such man."</p> + +<p>"No; you and he are not likely to come together and be very familiar. +Well, Mr. Sheppard, that is the man to whom I am engaged, and I mean to +keep my engagement. You can tell Mrs. Saulsbury if you like."</p> + +<p>"But you haven't told me his other name."</p> + +<p>"Oh—I don't know his other name."</p> + +<p>"Miss Grey! Don't know his other name?"</p> + +<p>"No: and I don't think he has any other name. He has but the one name +for me, and I don't want any second."</p> + +<p>"Where does he live, then—may I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—I may as well tell you all now, since I have told you so much. +He only lives in a book, Mr. Sheppard; in what you would call a play," +she added with contemptuous expression.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now—I thought you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> were only amusing yourself." A smile of +reviving satisfaction stole over his face. "I'm not much afraid of a +rival like that, Miss Grey—if he is my only rival."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you talk of a rival," the young woman answered, with a +scornful glance at him; "but I can assure you he would be the most +dangerous rival a living man could have. When I find a man like him, Mr. +Sheppard, I hope he will ask me to marry him; indeed, when I find such a +man I'll ask him to marry me—and if he be the man I take him for, he'll +refuse me. I have told you all the truth now, Mr. Sheppard, and I hope +you will think I need not say any more."</p> + +<p>"Still, I'm not quite without hope that something may be done," Mr. +Sheppard said. "How if I were to study your hero's ways and try to be +like him, Miss Grey?"</p> + +<p>A great brown heavy velvety bee at the moment came booming along, his +ponderous flight almost level with the ground and not far above it. He +sailed in and out among the trees and branches, now burying himself for +a few seconds in some hollow part of a trunk, and then plodding through +air again.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it would be of any use, Mr. Sheppard," she calmly asked, +"if that honest bee were to study the ways of the eagle?"</p> + +<p>"You are not complimentary, Miss Grey," he said, reddening.</p> + +<p>"No: I don't believe in compliments: I very much prefer truth."</p> + +<p>"Still there are ways of conveying the truth—and of course I never +professed to be anything very great and heroic——"</p> + +<p>He was decidedly hurt now.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sheppard," she said, in a softer and more appealing tone, "I don't +want to quarrel with you or with anybody, and please don't drive me on +to make myself out any worse than I am. I don't care about you, and I +never could. We never could get on together. I don't care for any man—I +don't like men at all. I wouldn't marry you if you were an emperor. But +I don't say anything against you; at least I wouldn't if you would only +let me alone. I am very unhappy sometimes—almost always now; but at +least I mean to make no one unhappy but myself."</p> + +<p>"That's what comes of books and poetry and solitary walks and nonsense! +Why can't you listen to the advice of those who love you?"</p> + +<p>She turned upon him angrily again.</p> + +<p>"Well, I am not speaking of myself now, but of your—your people, who +only desire your good. Mr. Saulsbury, Mrs. Saulsbury——"</p> + +<p>"Once for all, Mr. Sheppard, I shall not take their advice; and if you +would have me think of you with any kindness at all, any memory not +disagreeable and—and detestable, you will not talk to me of their +advice. Even if I had been inclined to care for you, Mr. Sheppard, you +took a wrong way when you came in their name and talked of their +authority. Next time you ask a girl to marry you, Mr. Sheppard, do it in +your own name."</p> + +<p>He caught eagerly at the kind of negative hope that seemed to be held +out to him.</p> + +<p>"If that's an objection," he began, "I assure you that I came quite of +my own motion, and I am the last man in the world to endeavor to bring +any unfair means to bear. Of course it is not as if they were your own +parents, and I can quite understand how a young lady must feel——"</p> + +<p>"I don't know much of how young ladies feel," Minola said quietly, "but +I know how I feel, Mr. Sheppard, and you know it too. Take my last word. +I'll never marry you. You only waste your time, and perhaps the time of +somebody else as well—some good girl, Mr. Sheppard, who would be glad +to marry you and whom you will be quite ready to make love to the day +after to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Her heart was hardened against him now, for she thought him mean and +craven and unmanly. Perhaps, according to her familiar creed, she ought +rather to have thought him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> manly, meanness being in that sense one of +the attributes of man. She did not believe in the genuineness of his +love, and in any case no thought was more odious to her than that of a +man pressing a girl to marry him if she did not love him and was not +ready to meet him half way.</p> + +<p>There was a curious contrast between these two figures as they stood on +the steps of that great empty tomb. The contrast was all the more +singular and even the more striking because the two might easily have +been described in such terms as would seem to suggest no contrast. If +they were described as a handsome young man (for he was scarcely more +than thirty) and a handsome young woman, the description would be +correct. He was rather tall, she was rather tall; but he was formal, +severe, respectable, and absolutely unpicturesque—she was picturesque +in every motion. His well-made clothes sat stiffly on him, and the first +idea he conveyed was that he was carefully dressed. Even a woman would +not have thought, at the first glance at least, of how <i>she</i> was +dressed. She only impressed one with a sense of the presence of graceful +and especially emotional womanhood. The longer one looked at the two the +deeper the contrast seemed to become. Both, for example, had rather thin +lips; but his were rigid, precise, and seeming to part with a certain +deliberation and even difficulty. Hers appeared, even when she was +silent, to be tremulous with expression. After a while it would have +seemed to an observer, if any observing eye were there, that no power on +earth could have brought these two into companionship.</p> + +<p>"I won't take this as your final answer," he said, after one or two +unsuccessful efforts to speak. "You will consider this again, and give +it some serious reflection."</p> + +<p>She only shook her head, and once more seated herself on the steps of +the monument as if to suggest that now the interview was over.</p> + +<p>"You are not walking homeward?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I am staying here for awhile."</p> + +<p>He bade her good morning and walked slowly away. A rejected lover looks +to great disadvantage when he has to walk away. He ought to leap on the +back of a horse, and spur him fiercely and gallop off; or the curtain +ought to fall and so finish up with him. Otherwise, even the most heroic +figure has something of the look of one sneaking off like a dog told +imperatively to "go home." Mr. Sheppard felt very uncomfortable at the +thought that he probably did not seem dignified in the eyes of Miss +Grey. He once glanced back uneasily, but perhaps it was not a relief to +find that she was not looking in his direction.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h4>THE EVE OF LIBERTY.</h4> + +<p>Miss Grey remained in the park until the sun had gone down and the +stars, with their faint light, seemed as she moved homeward to be like +bright sparkles entangled among the high branches of the trees. She had +a great deal to think of, and she troubled herself little about the +mental depression of her rejected lover. All the purpose of her life was +now summed up in a resolve to get away from Keeton and to bury herself +in London.</p> + +<p>She knew that any opposition to her proposal on the part of those who +were still supposed to be her guardians would only be founded on an +objection to it as something unwomanly, venturous, and revolutionary, +and not by any means the result of any grief for her going away. Ever +since her mother's death and her father's second marriage she had only +chafed at existence, and found those around her disagreeable, and no +doubt made herself disagreeable to them. She had ceased to feel any +respect for her father when he married again, and he knew it and became +cold and constrained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> with her. Only just before his death had there +been anything like a revival of their affection for each other. He had +been a man of some substance and authority in his town, had built +houses, and got together property, and he left his daughter a not +inconsiderable annuity as a charge upon his property, and placed her +under the guardianship of the elderly and respectable Nonconformist +minister, who, as luck would have it, afterward married his young widow. +Minola had seen so many marriages during her short experience, and had +disliked two at least of them so thoroughly, that she was much inclined +to say with one of her heroes that there should be no more of them. For +a long time she had made up her mind that when she came of age she would +go to London and live there. She still wanted a few months of the time +of independence, but the manner in which Mr. Augustus Sheppard was +pressed upon her by himself and others made her resolve to anticipate +the course of the seasons a little, and go away at once. In London she +made up her mind that she would lead a life of enchantment: of +delightful and semi-savage solitude, in the midst of the crowd; of wild +independence and scorn of all the ways of men, with books at her +command, with the art galleries and museums, of which she had read so +much, always within easy reach, and the streets which were alive for her +with such sweet and dear associations all around her.</p> + +<p>Miss Grey knew London well. She had never yet set foot in it, or been +anywhere out of her native town; but she had studied London as a general +may study the map of some country which he expects one day to invade. +Many and many a night, when all in the house but she were fast asleep, +she had had the map of London spread out before her, and had puzzled her +way through the endless intricacies of its streets. Few women of her +age, or of any age, actually living in the metropolis, had anything like +the knowledge of its districts and its principal streets that she had. +She felt in anticipation the pride and delight of being able to go +whither she would about London without having to ask her way of any one. +Some particular association identified every place in her mind. The +living and the dead, the romantic and the real, history and fiction, all +combined to supply her with labels of association, which she might +mentally put upon every quarter and district, and almost upon every +street which had a name worth knowing. As we all know Venice before we +have seen it, and when we get there can recognize everything we want to +see without need of guide to name it for us, so Minola Grey knew London. +It is no wonder now that her mind was in a perturbed condition. She was +going to leave the place in which so far all her life literally had been +passed. She was going to live in that other place which had for years +been her dream, her study, her self-appointed destiny. She was going to +pass away for ever from uncongenial and odious companionship, and to +live a life of sweet, proud, lonely independence.</p> + +<p>The loneliness, however, was not to be literal and absolute. In all +romantic adventures there is companionship. The knight has his squire, +Rosalind has her Celia. Minola Grey was to have her companion in her +great enterprise. It had not indeed occurred to her to think about the +inconvenience or oddness of a girl living absolutely alone in London, +but the kindly destinies had provided her with a comrade. Having +lingered long in the park and turned back again and again for another +view of some favorite spot, having gathered many a leaf and flower for +remembrance, and having looked up many times with throbbing heart at the +white, trembling stars that would shine upon her soon in London, Miss +Grey at last made up her mind and passed resolutely out at the great +gate and went to seek this companion. She was glad to leave the park now +in any case, for in the fine evenings of summer and autumn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> it was the +custom of Keeton people to make it their promenade. All the engaged +couples of the place would soon be there under the trees. When a lad and +lass were seen to walk boldly and openly together of evenings in that +park, and to pass and repass their neighbors without effort at avoiding +such encounters, it was as well known that they were engaged as though +the fact had been proclaimed by the town-crier. A jury of Keeton folk +would have assumed a promise of marriage and proceeded to award damages +for its breach if it were proved that a young man had walked openly for +any three evenings in the park with a girl whom he afterward declined to +make his wife. Minola did not care to meet any of the joyous couples or +their friends, and even already the twitter of voices and the titter of +feminine laughter were beginning to make themselves heard among the +darkling paths and across the broad green lanes of the park.</p> + +<p>From the gates of the park one passed, as has been said already, almost +directly into the town. The town itself was divided in twain by a river, +the river spanned by a bridge which had a certain fame from the fact of +its having been the scene of a brave stand and a terrible slaughter +during the civil wars after Charles I. had set up his standard at +Nottingham. To be sure there was not much left of the genuine old bridge +on which the fight was fought, nor did the broad, flat, handsome, and +altogether modern structure bear much resemblance to the sort of bridge +which might have crossed a river in the days of the Cavaliers. Residents +of Keeton always, however, boasted of the fact that one of the arches of +the bridge was just the same underneath as it had always been, and +insisted on bringing the stranger down by devious and grassy paths to +the river's edge in order that he might see for himself the old stones +still holding together which had perhaps been shaken by the tramp of +Rupert's troopers. On the park side of the bridge lay the genteeler and +more pretentious houses, the semi-detached villas and lodges and +crescents of Keeton; and there too were the humbler cottages. On the +other side of the bridge were the business streets and the clustering +shops, most of them old-fashioned and dark, with low, beetling fronts +and narrow panes in the windows, and only here and there a showy and +modern establishment, with its stucco front and its plate glass. The +streets were all so narrow that they seemed as if they must be only +passages leading to broader thoroughfares. The stranger walked on and +on, thinking he was coming to the actual town of Dukes-Keeton, until he +walked out at the other side and found he had left it behind him.</p> + +<p>Minola Grey crossed the bridge, although her own home lay on the side +nearest the park, and made her way through the narrow streets. She +glanced with a shudder at one formal official looking house of dark +brick which she had to pass, and the door of which bore a huge brass +plate with the words "Sheppard & Sheppard, Solicitors and Land Agents." +Another expression of dislike or pain crossed her handsome, pale, and +emotional face when she passed a little lane, closed at the further end +by the heavy, sombre front of a chapel, for it was there that she had +even still to pass some trying, unsympathetic hours of the Sunday +listening to a preacher whose eloquence was rather too familiar to her +all the week. At length she passed the front of a large building of +light-colored stone, with a Greek portico and row of pillars and high +flight of steps, and which to the eye of any intelligent mortal had +"Court House" written on its very face. Miss Grey went on and passed its +front entrance, then turning down a narrow street, of which the building +itself formed one side, she came to a little open door, went in, ran +lightly up a flight of stone steps, and found herself in dun and dimly +lighted corridors of stone.</p> + +<p>A ray or two of the evening light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> still flickered through the small +windows of the roof. But for this all would seemingly have been dark. +Minola's footfall echoed through the passages. The place appeared +ghostly and sad, and the presence of youth, grace, and energetic +womanhood was strangely out of keeping with all around. The whole +expression and manner of Miss Grey brightened, however, as she passed +along these gaunt and echoing corridors. In the sunlight of the park +there seemed something melancholy in the face of the girl which was not +in accord with her years, her figure, and her deep, soft eyes. Now, in +this dismal old passage of damp resounding stone, she seemed so joyous +that her passing along might have been that of another Pippa. The place +was not very unlike a prison, and an observer might have been pleased to +think that, as the light step of the girl passed the door of each cell, +and the flutter of her garments was faintly heard, some little gleam of +hope, some gentle memory, some breath of forgotten woods and fields, +some softening inspiration of human love, was borne in to every +imprisoned heart. But this was no prison; only the courthouse where +prisoners were tried; and its rooms, occupied in the day by judges, +lawyers, policemen, public, suitors, and culprits, were now locked, +empty, and silent.</p> + +<p>Minola went on, singing to herself as she went, her song growing louder +and bolder until at last it thrilled finely up to the stone roofs of the +grim halls and corridors. For Minola was of that temperament to which +resolve of any kind soon brings the excitement of high spirits, and she +sang now out of sheer courage and purpose.</p> + +<p>Presently she stopped at a low, dark, oaken door which looked as if it +might admit to some dingy lumber-room or closet; and this door opened +instantly and she was in presence of a pretty and cheerful little +picture. The side of the building where the room was set looked upon the +broadest and clearest space in the town, and through the open window +could be seen distinctly the glassy gray of the quiet river and even +the trees of the park, a dark mass beneath the pale summer sky. Although +the room was lit only by the twilight, in which the latest lingering +reflection of the sunset still lived, it looked bright to the girl who +had come from the heavy dusk and gloom of the corridors with their +roof-windows and their rows of grim doors. A room ought to look bright, +too, when the visitor on just appearing on its threshold is rushed upon +and clasped and kissed and greeted as "You dear, dear darling." Such a +welcome met Miss Grey, and then she was instantly drawn into the room, +the door of which was closed behind her.</p> + +<p>The occupant of the room who thus welcomed Minola was a woman not far +short probably of forty years of age. She was short, she was decidedly +growing fat, she had a face which ought from its outlines and its color +to be rather humorous and mirthful than otherwise, and a pair of very +fine, deep, and consequently somewhat melancholy eyes. These eyes were +the only beauty of Miss Mary Blanchet's face. She had not good sight, +for all their brightness. When any one talked with her at some little +distance across a room, or even across a broad table, he could easily +see by the irresponsive look of the eyes—the eyes which never quite +found a common focus with his even during the most animated interchange +of thought—that Miss Blanchet had short sight. But Miss Blanchet always +frankly and firmly declined to put on spectacles. "I have only my eyes +to boast of, my dear," she said to all her female advisers, "and I am +not going to cover them with ugly spectacles, you may be sure." Hers was +a life of the simplest vanity, the most innocent affectation. Her eyes +had driven her into poetry, love, and disappointment. She was understood +to have loved very deeply and to have been deserted. None of her friends +could quite remember the lover, but every one said that no doubt there +must have been such a person. Miss Blanchet never actually spoke of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +him, but she somehow suggested his memory.</p> + +<p>Miss Blanchet was a poetess. She had published by subscription a volume +of verses, which was favorably noticed in the local newspapers and of +which she sent a copy to the Queen, whereof Her Majesty had been kindly +pleased to accept. Thus the poetess became a celebrity and a sort of +public character in Dukes-Keeton, and when her father died it was felt +that the town ought to do something for one who had done so much for it. +It made her custodian of the courthouse, entrusted with the charge of +seeing that it was kept clean, ventilated, water-besprinkled; that when +assizes came on, the judges' rooms were fittingly adorned and that +bouquets of flowers were placed every morning on the bench on which they +sat. This place Miss Blanchet had held for many years. The rising +generation had forgotten all about her poetry, and indeed, as she seldom +went out of her own little domain, had for the most part forgotten her +existence.</p> + +<p>When Minola Grey was a little girl her mother was one of Miss Mary +Blanchet's chiefest patronesses. It was in great measure by the +influence of Minola's father that Miss Blanchet obtained her place in +the courthouse. Little Minola thought her a great poetess and a +remarkably beautiful woman, and accepted somehow the impression that she +had a romantic and mysterious love history. It was a rare delight for +her to be taken to spend an evening with Miss Blanchet, to drink tea in +her pretty and well kept little room, to walk with her through the stone +passages of the courthouse, and hear her repeat her poems. As Minola +grew she outgrew the poems, but the affection survived; and after her +mother's death she found no congenial or sympathetic friend anywhere in +Keeton but Mary Blanchet. The relationship between the two curiously +changed. The tall girl of twenty became the leader, the heroine, the +queen; and Mary Blanchet, sensible little woman enough in many ways, +would have turned African explorer or joined in a rebellion of women +against men if Miss Grey had given her the word of command.</p> + +<p>"I know your mind is made up, dear, now that you have come," Miss +Blanchet said when the first rapture of greeting was over.</p> + +<p>Minola took off her hat and threw it on the little sofa with the air of +one who feels thoroughly at home. It may be remarked as characteristic +of this young woman that in going toward the sofa she had to pass the +chimney-piece with its mirror, and that she did not even cast a glance +at her own image in the glass.</p> + +<p>"Mary," she asked gravely, "am I a man and a brother, that you expect me +to change my mind? You are not repenting, I hope?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, my dear. I have all the advantages, you know. I am so tired of +this place and the work—dear me!"</p> + +<p>"And I hate to see you at such work. You might almost as well be a +servant. Years ago I made up my mind to take you out of this wretched +place as soon as I should be of age and my own mistress."</p> + +<p>"Well, I have sent in my resignation, and I am free. But I am a little +afraid about you. You have been used to every luxury—and the +carriage—and all that."</p> + +<p>"One of my ambitions is to drive in a hansom cab. Another is to have a +latch-key. Both will soon be gratified. I am only sorry for one thing."</p> + +<p>"What is that, dear?"</p> + +<p>"That we can't be Rosalind and Celia; that I can't put on man's clothes +and liberty."</p> + +<p>"But you don't like men—you always want to avoid them."</p> + +<p>Miss Grey said nothing in defence of her own consistency. She was +thinking that if she had been a man, she would have been spared the +vexation of having to listen to Mr. Augustus Sheppard's proposals.</p> + +<p>"I suspect," Miss Blanchet said, "that people will say we are more like +Don Quixote and Sancho Panza."</p> + +<p>"Which of us is the Sancho?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I of course; I am the faithful follower."</p> + +<p>"You—poor little poetess, full of dreams, and hopes, and unselfishness! +Why, I shall have to see that you get something to eat at tolerably +regular intervals."</p> + +<p>"How happy we shall be! And I shall be able to complete my poem! Do you +know, Minola," she said confidentially, "I do believe I shall be able to +make a career in London. I do indeed! The miserable details of daily +life here pressed me down, down," and she pressed her own hand upon her +forehead to illustrate the idea. "There, in freedom and quiet, I do +think I shall be able to prove to the world that I am worth a hearing!"</p> + +<p>This was a tender subject with Miss Grey. She could not bear to disturb +by a word the harmless illusion of her friend, and yet the almost fierce +truthfulness of her nature would not allow her to murmur a sentence of +unmeaning flattery.</p> + +<p>"One word, Mary," she said; "if you grow famous, no marrying—mind!"</p> + +<p>Little Miss Blanchet laughed and then grew sad, and cast her eyes down.</p> + +<p>"Who would ask me to marry, my dearest? And even if they did, the buried +past would come out of the grave—and——"</p> + +<p>She slightly raised both hands in deprecation of this mournful +resurrection.</p> + +<p>"Well, I have all to go through with my people yet."</p> + +<p>"They won't prevent you?" Miss Blanchet asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"They can't. In a few months I should be my own mistress; and what is +the use of waiting? Besides, they don't really care—except for the sake +of showing authority and proving to girls that they ought to be +contented slaves. They know now that I am no slave. I do believe my +esteemed step-father—or step-stepfather, if there is such a word—would +consent to emancipate me if he could do so with the proper +ceremonial—the slap on the cheek."</p> + +<p>The allusion was lost on Miss Blanchet.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Saulsbury is a stern man indeed," she said, "but very good; that we +must admit."</p> + +<p>"All good men, it seems, are hard, and all soft men are bad."</p> + +<p>"What of Mr. Augustus Sheppard?" Miss Blanchet asked softly. "How will +he take your going away?"</p> + +<p>"I have not asked him, Mary. But I can tell you if you care to know. He +will take it with perfect composure. He has about as much capacity for +foolish affection as your hearth-broom there."</p> + +<p>"I think you are mistaken, Minola—I do indeed. I think that man is +really——"</p> + +<p>"Well. Is really what?"</p> + +<p>"You won't be angry if I say it?"</p> + +<p>Minola seemed as if she were going to be angry, but she looked into the +little poetess's kindly, wistful eyes, and broke into a laugh.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't be angry with you, Mary, if I had ten times my capacity for +anger—and that would be a goodly quantity! Well, what is Mr. Sheppard +really, as you were going to say?"</p> + +<p>"Really in love with you, dear."</p> + +<p>"You kind and believing little poetess—full of faith in simple true +love and all the rest of it! Mr. Sheppard likes what he considers a +respectable connection in Keeton. Failing in one chance he will find +another, and there is an end of that."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," Miss Blanchet said gravely. "Well, we shall see."</p> + +<p>"We shall not see him any more. We shall live a glorious, lonely, +independent life. I shall study humanity from some lofty garret window +among the stars. London shall be my bark and my bride, as the old songs +about the Rovers used to say. All the weaknesses of humanity shall +reveal themselves to me in the people next door to us and over the way. +I'll study in the British Museum! I'll spend hours in the National +Gallery! I'll lie under the trees in Epping Forest! I <i>think</i> I'll go to +the gallery of a theatre! <i>Liberté, liberté, cherie!</i>" And Miss Grey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +proceeded to chant from the "Marseillaise" with splendid energy as she +walked up and down the room with clasped hands of mock heroic passion.</p> + +<p>"You said something about a man and a brother just now, dear," Miss +Blanchet gently interposed. "I have something to tell you about a man +and a brother. <i>My</i> brother is back again in London."</p> + +<p>Miss Blanchet made this communication in the tone of one who is trying +to seem as if it would be welcome.</p> + +<p>"Your brother? He has come back?" Miss Grey did not like to add, "I am +so sorry," but that was exactly what she would have said if she had +spoken her mind.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear—quite reformed and as steady as can be, and going to make +a great name in London. Oh, you may trust him to this time—you may +indeed."</p> + +<p>Miss Grey's handsome and only too expressive features showed signs of +profound dissatisfaction.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't help telling him that we were going to live in London—one's +brother, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, one's brother," Miss Grey said with sarcastic emphasis. "They are +an affectionate race, these brothers! Then he knows all about our +expedition? Has he been here, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, dear; but he wrote to me—such beautiful letters! Perhaps you +would like to read them?"</p> + +<p>Miss Grey was silent, and was evidently fighting some battle with +herself. At last she said:</p> + +<p>"Well, Mary dear, it can't be helped, and I dare say he won't trouble to +come very often to see <i>us</i>. But I hope he will come as often as you +like, for you might be terribly lonely. I don't care to know anybody. I +mean to study human nature, not to know people."</p> + +<p>"But you have some friends in London, and you are going to see them."</p> + +<p>"Oh—Lucy Money; yes. She was at school with us, and we used to be fond +of each other. I think of calling to see her, but she may be changed +ever so much, and perhaps we shan't get on together at all. Her father +has become a sort of great man in London, I believe—I don't know how. +They won't trouble us much, I dare say."</p> + +<p>The friends then sat and talked for a short time about their project. It +is curious to observe that though they were such devoted friends they +looked on their joint purpose with very different eyes. The young woman, +with her beauty, her spirit, and her talents, was absolutely sincere and +single-minded, and was going to London with the sole purpose of living a +free, secluded life, without ambition, without thought of any manner of +success. The poor little old maid had her head already filled with wild +dreams of fame to be found in London, of a distinguished brother, a +bright career, publishers seeking for everything she wrote, and her name +often in the papers. Devoted as she was to Miss Grey, or perhaps because +she was so devoted to her, she had already been forming vague but +delightful hopes about the reformed brother which she would not now for +all the world have ventured to hint to her friend.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h4>THE MAN WITH A GRIEVANCE.</h4> + +<p>Late that same night a young man stepped from a window in one of the +rooms on the third floor in the Hôtel du Louvre in Paris, and stood in +the balcony. It was a balcony in that side of the hotel which looks on +the Rue de Rivoli. The young man smoked a cigar and leaned over the +balcony.</p> + +<p>It was a soft moonlight night. The hour was late and the streets were +nearly silent. The latest omnibus had gone its way, and only now and +then a rare and lingering <i>voiture</i> clicked and clattered along, to +disappear round the corner of the place in front of the Palais Royal. +The long line of gas lamps, looking a faint yellow beneath the hotel and +the Louvre Palace across the way, seemed to deepen and deepen into +redder sparks the further the eye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> followed them to the right as they +stretched on to the Place de la Concorde and the Champs Elysées. To the +left the young man, leaning from the balcony, could see the tower of St. +Jacques standing darkly out against the faint, pale blue of the +moonlighted sky. The street was a line of silver or snow in the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>The young man was tall, thin, dark, and handsome. He was unmistakably +English, although he had an excitable and nervous way about him which +did not savor of British coolness and composure. He seemed a person not +to take anything easily. Even the moonlight, and the solitude, and the +indescribably soothing and philosophic influence of the contemplation of +a silent city from the serene heights of a balcony, did not prevail to +take him out of himself into the upper ether of mental repose. He pulled +his long moustaches now and then, until they met like a kind of strap +beneath his chin, and again he twisted their ends up as if he desired to +appear fierce as a champion duellist of the Bonapartist group. He +sometimes took his cigar from his lips and held it between his fingers +until it went out, and when he put it into his mouth again he took +several long puffs before he quite realized the fact that he was puffing +at what one might term dry stubble. Then he pulled out a box of fusees +and lighted his cigar in an irritated way, as if he were protesting that +really the fates were bearing down upon him rather too heavily, and that +he was entitled to complain at last.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, sir," said a strong, full British voice that sounded just +at his elbow.</p> + +<p>The young man, looking round, saw that his next-door neighbor in the +hotel had likewise opened his window and stepped out on his balcony. The +two had met before, or at least seen each other before, once or twice. +The young man had seen the elder with some ladies at breakfast in the +hotel, and that evening he and his neighbor had taken coffee side by +side on the boulevards and smoked and exchanged a few words.</p> + +<p>The elder man's strong, rather under-sized figure showed very clearly in +the moonlight. He had thick, almost shaggy hair, of an indefinable dark +brownish color—hair that was not curly, that was not straight, that did +not stand up, and yet could evidently never be kept down. He had a rough +complexioned face, with heavy eyebrows and stubby British whiskers. His +hands were large and reddish-brown and coarse. He was dressed +carelessly—that is, his clothes were evidently garments that had cost +money, but he did not seem to care how he wore them. Any garment must +fall readily into shapelessness and give up trying to fit well on that +unheeding figure. The Briton did not seem exactly what one would at once +assume to be a gentleman. Yet he was not vulgar, and he was evidently +quite at his ease with himself. He looked somehow like a man who had +money or power of some kind, and who did not care whether people knew it +or did not know it. Our younger Briton had at the first glance taken him +for the ordinary English father of a family, travelling with his +womankind. But he had not seen him for two minutes at the breakfast +table before he observed that the supposed heavy father was never in a +fuss, had a way of having all his orders obeyed without trouble or +misunderstanding, and for all his strong British accent talked French +with entire ease and a sort of resolute grammatical accuracy.</p> + +<p>"Staying in Paris?" the elder man said—he too was smoking—when the +younger had replied to his salutation.</p> + +<p>"No; I am going home—I mean I am going to England—to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay? I almost wish I were too. I'm taking my wife and daughters for +a holiday. I don't much care for holidays myself. I hadn't time for +enjoyment of such things when I could enjoy them, and of course when you +get out of the way of enjoying yourself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> you never get into it again; +it's a sort of groove, I suppose. Anyhow, we don't ever enjoy much, our +people. You are English, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am English."</p> + +<p>"Wish you weren't? I see."</p> + +<p>Indeed, the tone in which the young man answered the question seemed to +warrant this interpretation.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me; I didn't say that," the young man said, a little sharply.</p> + +<p>"No, no; I only thought you meant it. We are not bound, you know, to +keep rattling up the Rule Britannia always among ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I can assure you I am not at all inclined to rattle the Rule Britannia +too loudly," the young man said, tossing the end of his cigar away and +looking determinedly into the street with his hands dug deeply into his +pockets.</p> + +<p>The elder man smoked for a few seconds in silence, and looked up and +down the long straight line of street.</p> + +<p>"Odd," he said abruptly. "I always think of Balzac when I look into the +streets of Paris, and when I give myself time to think. Balzac sums up +Paris to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the younger man, talking for the first time with an +appearance of genuine interest in the conversation; "but things must be +greatly changed since that time even in Paris, you know."</p> + +<p>"Changed? Not a bit of it. The outsides of course. The Louvre was half a +ruin the other day, and now it's getting all right again. That's change, +if you like to call it so. But the heart of things is just the same. +Balzac stands for Paris, believe you me."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe a word of it—not a word! I mean—excuse me—that I +don't agree with you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes: I understand what you mean. I'm not offended. Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well—I don't believe a bit that men and women ever were like that. You +mean to tell me that people were made without hearts in Paris or +anywhere else? Do you believe in a place peopled by cads and sneaks and +curs—and the women half again as bad as the men?"</p> + +<p>The young man grew warm, and the elder drew him out, and they discussed +Balzac as they stood in the balcony and looked down on silent +moonlighted Paris. The elder man smoked and smiled and shrugged his +shoulders good-humoredly. The younger was as full of gesture and +animation as if his life depended on the controversy.</p> + +<p>"All right," the elder said at last. "I like to hear you talk, but Paris +is Balzac to me still. Going to be in London some time?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so: yes," in a tone of sudden depression and discontent.</p> + +<p>"I wish we might meet. I live in London, and I wish you would come and +see me when we get back from our—holiday we'll call it."</p> + +<p>The young man turned half away and leaned on the balcony as if he were +looking very earnestly for something in the direction of the Champs +Elysées. Then he faced his companion suddenly and said,</p> + +<p>"I think you had much better not have anything to do with me: I should +only prove a bore to you, or to anybody."</p> + +<p>"How is that?"</p> + +<p>"Well—in short, I'm a man with a grievance."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay? What's your grievance? Whom has it to do with?"</p> + +<p>The young man looked up quickly, as if he did not quite understand the +brusque ways of his new acquaintance, who put his questions so directly. +But the new acquaintance seemed good-humored and quite at his ease, and +evidently had not the least idea of being rude or over-inquisitive. He +had only the way of one apparently used to ordering people about.</p> + +<p>"My grievance is against the Government," the young man said with a +grave politeness, almost like self-assertion.</p> + +<p>"Government here: in France?"</p> + +<p>"No, no: our own Government."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, ay? What have they been doing? <i>You</i> haven't invented anything—new +cannon—flying machine—that sort of thing?"</p> + +<p>"No: nothing of the kind—I wish I had—but how did you know?"</p> + +<p>"How did I know what?"</p> + +<p>"That I hadn't invented anything?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I knew it by looking at you. Do you think I shouldn't know an +inventor? You might as well ask me how I know a man has been in the +army. Well, about this grievance of yours?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say you will know my name," the young man said with a sort of +reluctant modesty, which contrasted a little oddly with the quick +movements and rapid talk which usually belonged to him. Then his manner +suddenly changed, and he spoke in a tone of something like irritation, +as if he had better have the whole thing out at once and be done with +it—"My name is Heron—Victor Heron."</p> + +<p>"Heron—Heron?" said the other, turning over the name in his memory. +"Well, I don't know I'm sure—I may have heard it—one hears all sorts +of names. But I don't remember just at the moment."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heron seemed a little surprised that his revelation had produced no +effect. He had made up his mind somehow that his new friend was mixed up +with politics and public affairs.</p> + +<p>"You'll remember Victor Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements?" he said +decisively.</p> + +<p>"Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements? Ah, yes, yes. To be sure. Yes, I +begin to remember now. Of course, of course. You're the fellow who got +us into the row with the Portuguese or the Dutch, or who was it? About +the slave trade, or something? I remember it in the House."</p> + +<p>"I am the fool," Mr. Heron went on volubly—"the blockhead, the idiot, +that thought England had principles, and honor, and a policy, and all +the rest of it! I haven't lived in England very much. I'm the son of a +colonist—the Herons are an old colonial family—and you can't think, +you people always in England, how romantic and enthusiastic we get about +England, we silly colonists, with our old-fashioned ways. When I got +that confounded appointment—it was given in return for some old +services of my father's—I believe I thought I was going to be another +sort of Raleigh, or something of the kind."</p> + +<p>"Just so; and of course you were ready to tumble into any sort of +scrape. You are hauled over the coals—snubbed for your pains?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I was snubbed."</p> + +<p>"Of course: they'll soon work the enthusiasm out of you. But that's a +couple of years ago—and you weren't recalled?"</p> + +<p>"No. I wasn't recalled."</p> + +<p>"Well, what's your grievance then?"</p> + +<p>"Why—don't you see?—my time is out—and they've dropped me down. My +whole career is closed—I'm quietly thrown over—and I'm only +twenty-nine!" The young man caught at his moustache with nervous hands +and kicked with one foot against the rails of the balcony. He gazed into +the street, and his eyes sparkled and twinkled as if there were tears in +them. Perhaps there were, for Mr. Heron was evidently a young man of +quicker emotions than young men generally show in our days. He made +haste to say something, apparently as if to escape from himself.</p> + +<p>"I am leaving Paris in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you go to bed and have a sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't feel like sleeping just yet."</p> + +<p>"You young fellows never know the blessing of sleep. I can sleep +whenever I want to—it's a great thing. I make it a rule though to do +all my sleeping at night, whenever I can. You leave Paris in the +morning? Now that's a thing I don't like to do. Paris should never be +seen early in the morning. London shows to the best advantage early; but +Paris—no!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why not?" Mr. Heron asked, stimulated to a little curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Paris is a beauty, you know, a little on the wane, and wanting to be +elaborately made up and curled and powdered and painted, and all that. +She's a little of a slattern underneath the surface, you know, and +doesn't bear to be taken unawares—mustn't be seen for at least an hour +or two after she has got out of bed. All the more like Balzac's women."</p> + +<p>Perhaps the elder man had observed Mr. Heron's sensitiveness more +closely and clearly than Heron fancied, and was talking on only to give +him time to recover his composure. Certainly he talked much more volubly +and continuously than appeared at first to be his way. After a while he +said, in his usual style of blunt but not unkind inquiry—</p> + +<p>"Any of your people living in London?"</p> + +<p>"No—in fact, I haven't any people in England—few relations now left +anywhere."</p> + +<p>"Like Melchisedek, eh? Well, I don't know that he was the most to be +pitied of men. You have friends enough, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Not friends exactly—acquaintances enough, I dare say—people to call +on, people who remember one's name and who ask one to dinner. But I +don't know that I shall have much time for cultivating acquaintanceships +in the way of society."</p> + +<p>"Why so? What are you going to London to do?"</p> + +<p>"To get a hearing, of course. To make the whole thing known. To show +that I was in the right, and that I only did what the honor of England +demanded. I trust to England."</p> + +<p>"What's England got to do with it? England is only so many men and women +and children all concerned in their own affairs, and not caring twopence +about you and me and our wrongs. Besides, who has accused you? Who has +found fault with you? Your time is out, and there's an end."</p> + +<p>"But they have dropped me down—they think to crush me."</p> + +<p>"If they do, it will be by severely letting you alone; and what can you +do against that? You can't quarrel with a man merely because he ceases +to invite you to dinner, and that's about the way of it."</p> + +<p>"I'll fight this out for all that."</p> + +<p>"You'll soon get tired of it. It's beating the air, you know. Of course, +if you want to annoy the Government, you could easily get some of us to +take up your case—no difficulty about that—and make you the hero of a +grievance and a debate, and so on."</p> + +<p>"I want nothing of the kind! I don't want any one to trouble himself +about me, and I don't care to be taken in hand by any one. If Englishmen +will not listen to a plain statement of right, why then——But I know +they will."</p> + +<p>The conviction itself was expressed in the tone of one who by its very +assertion protests against a rising doubt and tries to stifle it.</p> + +<p>"Very good," said the other. "Try it on. We shall soon see. I have a +sort of interest in the matter, for I had a grievance myself, and I have +still, only I went about things in a different way—looking for redress, +I mean."</p> + +<p>"What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"It's a longish story, and quite a different line from yours, and it +would bore you to hear, even if you understood it. I got into the House +and made myself a nuisance. I put money in my purse; it came in somehow. +I watch the department that I once belonged to with the eye of a lynx. +Well, I shall look out for you and give you a hand if I can, always +supposing it would annoy the Government—any Government—I don't care +what."</p> + +<p>Mr. Heron looked at him with wonder and incredulity.</p> + +<p>"Terrible lack of principle, you think? Not a bit of it; I'm a strong +politician; I stick to my side through thick and thin. But in their +management of departments, you know—contracts, and all +that—governments are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> all the same; the natural enemies of man. Well, I +hope to see you. I am going to have a sleep. Let me give you my +address—though in any case I think we are certain to meet."</p> + +<p>They parted with blunt expression of friendly inclination on the one +side and a doubtful, half-reluctant acknowledgment on the other. Heron +remained standing in his balcony looking at the changes of the moonlight +on the silent streets and thinking of his career and his grievance.</p> + +<p>The nearer he came to England the colder his hopes seemed to grow. Now +upon the threshold of the country he had so longed to reach, he was +inclined to linger and loiter and to put off his entrance. Everything +that was so easy and clear a few thousand miles off began to show itself +perplexed and difficult. "When shall I be there?" he used to ask himself +on his homeward journey. "What have I come for?" he began to ask himself +now.</p> + +<p>Times had indeed changed very suddenly with Victor Heron. He had come +into the active world perhaps rather prematurely. When very young, under +the guidance of an energetic and able father who had been an +administrator of some distinction in England's service among her +dependencies, he had made himself somewhat conspicuous in one of the +colonies; and when an opportunity occurred, after his father's death, of +offering him a considerable position, the Government appointed him to +the administration of a new settlement. It is hardly necessary for us to +go any deeper into the story of his grievance than he has already gone +himself in a few words. Except as an illustration of his character, we +have not much to do with the story of his career as an administrator. It +was a very small business altogether; a quarrel in a far off, lately +appropriated, and almost wholly insignificant scrap of England's +domains. Probably Mr. Heron was in the wrong, for he had been stimulated +wholly by a chivalrous enthusiasm for the honor of England's principles +and a keen sense of what he considered justice. The Government had +dealt very kindly with him in consideration of his youth and of his +father's services, and had merely dropped him down.</p> + +<p>This to a young man like Heron was simply killing with kindness. He +could have stood up stoutly against impeachment, trial, punishment, any +manner of exciting ordeal, and commanded his brave heart to bear it. But +to be quietly allowed to go his way was intolerable, and, being accused +of nothing, he was rushing back to England to insist on being accused of +something. A chief of any kind in a small dependency is a person of +overwhelming greatness and importance in his own sphere. Every eye there +is literally on him. He diffuses even a sort of impression as if he were +a good deal too large for his sphere, like the helmet of such portentous +size in the courtyard of Otranto. To come down all at once to be an +ordinary passenger to England, an ordinary "No. 257, au 3me" at the +Hôtel du Louvre in Paris, an obscure personage getting out at the +Charing Cross station and calling a hansom, nobody caring whence he has +come, or capable, even after elaborate reminder, of calling to memory +his story, his grievance, or his identity—this is something to try the +soul of a patient man. Mr. Heron was not patient.</p> + +<p>He was a young Quixote out of time and place. He never could let +anything alone. He could not see a grievance without trying to set it +right. The impression that anybody was being wronged or cheated affected +and tormented him as keenly as a discordant note or an inharmonious +arrangement of colors might disturb persons of loftier artistic soul. In +the colonies queer old ideas survive long after they have died out of +England, and the traveller from the parent country comes often on some +ancient abstraction there as he might upon some old-fashioned garment. +Heron started into life with a full faith in the living reality of +divers abstractions<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> which people in England have long since dissected, +analyzed, and thrown away. He believed in and spoke of progress, and +humanity, and brotherhood, and such like vaguenesses as if they were +real things to work for and love. People who regard abstractions as +realities are just the very persons who turn solid and commonplace +realities into shining and splendid abstractions. Young Heron regarded +England not as an island with a bad climate, where some millions of +florid men made money or worked for it, but as a sort of divine +influence inspiring youth to noble deeds and patriotic devotion. He was +of course the very man to get into a muddle when he had anything to do +with the administration of a new settlement. If the muddle had not lain +in his way, he would assuredly have found it.</p> + +<p>He had so much to do now on his further way home in helping elderly +ladies on that side who could not speak French, and on this side who +could not speak English; in seeing that persons whom he had never set +eyes on before were not neglected at buffets, left behind by trains, or +overcharged by waiters; in giving and asking information about +everything, that he had not much time to think about the St. Xavier's +settlements and his personal grievance. When the suburbs of London came +in sight, with their trim rows of stucco-fronted villas and cottages, +and their front gardens ornamented with the inevitable evergreens, a +thrill of enthusiasm came up in Heron's breast, and he became feverish +with anxiety to be in the heart of the great capital once again. Now he +began to see familiar spires, and domes, and towers, and then again +huge, unfamiliar roofs and buildings that were not there when he was in +London last, and that puzzled him with their presence. Then the train +crossed the river, and he had glimpses of the Thames, and Westminster +Palace, and the embankment with its bright garden patches and its little +trees, and he wondered at the ungenial creatures who see in London +nothing but ugliness. To him everything looked smiling, beautiful, alive +with hope and good omen.</p> + +<p>Certainly a railway station, an arrival, a hurried transaction, however +slight and formal, with a customs officer, are a damper on enthusiasm of +any kind. Heron began to feel dispirited. London looked hard and +prosaic. His grievance began to show signs of breaking out again amid +the hustling, the crowd, the luggage, and the exertion, as an old wound +might under similar circumstances, if one in his haste and eagerness +were to strain its hardly closed edges.</p> + +<p>It was when he was in a hansom driving to his hotel that Heron, putting +his hand in his waistcoat pocket, drew out a crumpled card which he had +thrust in there hastily and forgotten. The card bore the name of</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Mr. Crowder E. Money</span>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Victoria street,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Westminster."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Heron remembered his friend of Paris. "An odd name," he thought. "I have +heard it before somewhere. I like him. He seems a manly sort of fellow."</p> + +<p>Then he found himself wondering what Mr. Money's daughters were like, +and wishing he had observed them more closely in Paris, and asking +whether it was possible that girls could be pretty and interesting with +such an odd name.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="DRIFT-WOOD" id="DRIFT-WOOD"></a>DRIFT-WOOD.</h2> + + +<h3>THE SPINNING OF LITERATURE.</h3> + +<p>"Of making many books there is no end," sighed a preacher in times when +industrious readers might presumably have kept the run of current +literature. Our advantage over Solomon is the utter hopelessness of +reading the new works, not to speak of standard acres in the libraries. +In this holiday season, chief hatching-time of books, it is pleasant to +see them flocking out in numbers so vast. "Germany published 11,315 +works of all classes in 1873, 12,070 in 1874, 12,516 in 1875." We rub +our hands over statistics like these, because they check any mad +ambition to master German contemporary literature; and besides, there +are "1,622 newspapers and periodical publications in the German empire." +As for the new works in our own tongue, the only way of getting through +them would obviously be to do as legislators do with the laws they +pass—"read them by title."</p> + +<p>Earlier ages, that had not reached this happy hopelessness, produced +great bookworms. When the old monks had devoured their convent +libraries, they were fain to pay vast sums occasionally for extra +reading, as St. Jerome did for the works of Origen; whereas now a +reviewer can only glance at his "complimentary copies" of new books, so +numerous are they. Bacon argued against abridgements, as if the body of +literature could be compassed in his day. A century or two ago there +were prodigious Porsons and Johnsons; but such gluttons are now rare. It +is true that Mill, between his fourth and eighth years, read in the +original all Herodotus and a good part of Xenophon, Lucian, Isocrates, +Diogenes Laertius, Plato, and the Annual Register, besides Hume, Gibbon, +Robertson, Miller, Mosheim, and other historians; while before the age +of thirteen he had mastered the whole of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Sallust, +Thucydides, Aristotle's Rhetoric and Logic, Tacitus, Juvenal, +Quinctilian, parts of Ovid, Terence, Nepos, Cæsar, Livy, Lucretius, +Cicero, Polybius, and many other authors, besides learning geometry, +algebra, and the differential calculus. But that lad was crammed +scientifically like a Strasbourg goose; our ordinary modern writers are +not walking cyclopædias, and are rarely prodigious readers. It is no +longer a reproach even for a man not to know all the literature of his +specialty; while, as for general reading, when the "Publisher's +Circular" tells us that the different books that mankind have made are +numbered by millions, we sit down in a most comfortable despair, and +pick to our liking.</p> + +<p>Thanks to modern fecundity, critics rarely molest authors with demands +for the <i>raison d'être</i> of a new book. The reviewer's question used to +be, "Why did the man publish? What need was there? What is he trying to +show?" One pontiff is said to have suggested burning up all the +different books in the world, except six thousand, so that the rest +might be read. There used to be pleas for condensations, as if people +were still fondly hoping to compass the realm of literature and science, +the blessed era of hopelessness having not yet dawned. But it is idle to +plead against diffuseness now, when writers are paid by the page or +line. "I want," said the editor of "La Situation" to Dumas, "a story +from you, entitled 'Terreur Prussienne à Francfort'—60 <i>feuilletons</i> of +400 lines each; total, 84,000 lines." "And if it makes only 58?" +responded Dumas. "I require 60, of 400 lines each, averaging 31 letters +each line—744,000 letters." At noon of the day agreed upon, the +manuscript was in the hands of M. Hollander. If Sir Critic ever came +with foot-rule and condensing-pump to gravely detect diffusiveness in +the "Terreur Prussienne," it must have diverted the high contracting +parties.</p> + +<p>It is said that a dialogue of Dumas the elder created a revolution in +the French mode of paying romance literature. Dumas, who was reckoned by +the line, one day introduced, they say, into his <i>feuilleton</i> this +thrilling passage:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My son!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My mother!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Listen!<br /></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Speak!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Seest thou?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This poniard!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It is stained—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With blood!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy father's.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ah!!!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After that Dumas was paid by the letter. To say sooth, the same +incident, with a different catastrophe, is related of Ponson Du Terrail, +who, one day, in his "Resurrection de Rocambole," filled about a column +with dialogue of this character:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Who?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yes.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He shuddered.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Accordingly, as the story goes, the author being summoned before the +editor of the "Petit Journal," was notified that if this monosyllabic +chat went on, he would be paid by the word. "Very well," replied the +obliging novelist, "I will change my style;" and next day, M. Millaud +was astounded to find the <i>feuilleton</i> introducing a pair of stammerers +talking in this agreeable fashion:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Wou-wou-would you de-de-de-deceive me, you wr-wr-wretch?" said +the old corsair in a tone of thunder.</p> + +<p>"I ne-ne-ne-never de-de-de-deceived an-an-an-anybody," +exclaimed Baccarat, imitating the other's defect in +pronunciation.</p> + +<p>"Wh-wh-wh-where is Ro-ro-rocam-bo-bole?"</p> + +<p>"You ne-ne-never will kn-know."</p></div> + +<p>"He will make all his characters stutter soon," said Millaud. "We had +better pay him by the line." Of course this is a story <i>faite à +plaisir</i>, as is also the one that as soon as Dumas made his first +contract by the line, enchanted with the arrangement, he invented dear +old Grimaud, who only opened his mouth to utter "yes," "no," "what?" +"ah!" "bah!" and other monosyllables; but when the editor, who knew the +cash price of "peuh" and "oh," declared he would only pay for lines half +full, Grimaud was slaughtered the next morning. However, these yarns +show that the French can satirize their jerky, staccato style of +<i>feuilleton</i>, with each sentence staked off in a paragraph by itself, +like some grimacing clown, who expects each particular joke or +handspring to be observed individually, and to be greeted with separate +applause. Across the channel we of course find the English journals +going to the other extreme, in insular pride, and packing distinct +subjects into the same paragraph.</p> + +<p>Greek and Roman Tuppers used, no doubt, to "reel off a couple of hundred +lines, standing on one foot;" but the veneering of a thin layer of ideas +upon a thick layer of words is naturally the special trait of our age of +cheap ink and paper, of steam printing, and of paying for writing by +long measure. The "Country Parson" is a favorite writer of this sort, +whose excellence is in "the art of putting things," rather than in +having many things to put. The essays of the "Spectator," "Guardian," +"Tatler," "Rambler," rarely gave only a pennyworth of wit to an +intolerable deal of words; but our modern periodical essay achieves +success by taking some such assertion as "Old maids are agreeable," or +"Old maids are disagreeable," and wire-drawing it into sundry yards of +readable matter. Macbeth's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where got'st thou that goose-look?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>would supply a modern playwright with a square foot of gold-beaten +invective. "True poems," said Irving, "are caskets which enclose in a +small compass the wealth of the language—its family jewels." But when +poems are paid by the line, bards are pardonable for diffuseness. And +then, besides diffuseness, our age has wonderful literary fecundity. Few +people know how much painters paint, and how much great writers write; +for the bards of a single poem, as Mr. Stedman shows, are exceptional, +and rich quantity as well as rich quality is the usual rule for +greatness, whether of novelist, poet, essayist, metaphysician, or +historian. So here we come upon another source of the accumulated floods +of literature. The other day I was looking through a prodigious list of +the works of Alexandre Dumas, <i>père</i>. There were 127 of them, mostly +novels—"Monte Christo," "Three Musketeers," "Bragelonne," and the rest +that we used to read. They made 244 volumes; but the plays were not +included, and many slighter miscellanies did not seem to be there; and +the posthumous work on cookery was certainly not there; and of course +there was no effort to collect everything from "Le Mois,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> "La Liberté," +and the half dozen other journals he edited or wrote in; so that I doubt +not the writings of this illustrious man, if ever brought together in a +complete edition, would make at least 150 works of 300 or 400 stout +volumes. And in English literature we have many Salas and Southworths. I +remember an announcement in the "Lancet" that "Mr. G. A. Sala is +completely restored to health, and in the full discharge of his +professional duties." An expressive term, that "full discharge"!</p> + +<p>Again, some popular authors employ apprentices to do the bulk of their +work, only touching it up with mannerisms, and so turn out much more +than if they wrought it all. The world, too, has now accumulated a +myriad handbooks of facts and compilations of statistics, which enable +writers with a fondness for theory, like Buckle, to have all their +material ready to spin into generalization. Then there is a popular +education toward prolixity in the telegraphic part of newspapers. The +associated press writers from Washington seem to be selected for their +inability to be terse and pithy, and dribble out the simplest fact with +pitiful iteration. The special news-writers, being often at their wits' +end for their dole of day's work, can hardly be asked to be laconic. The +special messages which the ocean wires bring, doubtless with exquisite +terseness and picturesqueness, are most carefully interwritten and +diluted; so that, for example, the words "Thiers spoke at Coulmiers" +become "M. Adolphe Thiers, president of the French Republic before the +accession of the present Chief Executive, Marshal MacMahon, delivered an +address, or rather made some remarks partly in the nature of an oration +or speech on subjects connected with matters of interest at the present +time, at the town of Coulmiers, which is situated"—and here follow a +dozen lines from the Cyclopædia, but dated at Paris, giving the +geography, history, and commerce of Coulmiers. One can fancy in the +"Atlantic cable" columns of the "Morning Meteor" the tokens of a +standing prescription to dilute foreign facts with nine parts domestic +verbiage; and this kind of "editing" educates mankind to padding and +patching with superfluous material.</p> + +<p>It is harder for French writers to be prolix. The French writer is +inevitably epigrammatic first, and, if diffusive afterward, it is with +malice aforethought. If we compare, for example, publicists like Guizot +and Gladstone, while each has that perfect command of his material, +instead of letting the material command him, which marks the skilful +writer, yet the Englishman sometimes seems to require two or three +consecutive sentences to bring out his thought, whereas M. Guizot packs +it into one. But Guizot deliberately goes on to put the identical +statement into two or three paraphrased forms. For example, in the +"History of Civilization in Europe" there is usually a terse sentence or +two in each paragraph which contain the whole of it, packed into +briefest compass; were these key sentences repeated on the side of the +page as marginal notes, the reader could master the book by mastering +the margins. When an English writer is diffuse, he cannot help it; when +a French writer is diffuse, he effects it by sheer effort at repetition.</p> + +<p>And we humble hack scribblers, who confidingly slip our daily, and +weekly, and monthly mites into the vast mass of current reading turned +out for an omnivorous public—let us hope that the world's maw may long +remain unsated and the market unglutted.</p> + + +<h3>GROWTH OF AMERICAN TASTE FOR ART.</h3> + +<p>While to many it has seemed a pity that the Johnston gallery should be +broken up, yet this distribution of its treasures scatters the seeds of +art education. Besides, the prices obtained at the sale must impress +many wealthy men with a conviction valuable to the interests of art; +namely, that pictures, like diamonds, are a safe investment, as well as +a source of enjoyment and fame. Considering that the times are hard, and +that pictures are luxuries, the sum thus paid for art treasures, so soon +after the centennial purchases, is a proof of the number of good patrons +that can be counted on when works of value are for sale. But the works +must be of value. At a former auction in New York "old masters" brought +these prices: Madonna Del Correggio, $30; two Murrillos, $160 and $90; a +landscape of Salvator Rosa, $55; a Tintoretto, $115; a Guido, $35; "St. +John," by Sir Joshua Reynolds, $15—and so on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> Every few months we find +a so-called Titian or Raphael going for the price of the frame. Such +auctions tell a story as emphatic as that of the Johnston gallery.</p> + +<p>When the German painters were considering whether they should send +canvases to the Centennial Exposition the "Allgemeine Zeitung" reminded +them "that their works bring twice as much in America as in Germany." +But each successive sale here shows that most buyers now know what is +worth getting and what is not, though naturally some painters are the +rage who will be forgotten fifty years hence. Still, the cynics are +wrong in decrying the eagerness to buy painters who are in fashion. What +harm in a millionaire's ordering a picture <i>d'ameublement</i>, to suit a +particular room or panel, or in his ordering from the bookseller a +hundred volumes of current novels? If the picture be good, whether +bought by the foot for furnishing or whether painted under the +microscope, its sale may aid the profession of art.</p> + +<p>Comparing the Johnston sale with some of the famous auctions of the past +four years at the hotel Drouot, we find that in the Paturle collection +twenty-eight canvases bought $90,000, being all works of masters. The +general prices were not higher than the Johnston prices, but Ary +Scheffer's Marguerites brought 40,000 and 35,000 francs; a Troyon, +63,000; and Leopold Robert's admirable "Fishers of the Adriatic," 83,000 +francs. The gallery of the Pereires brought 1,785,586 francs, which was +rather higher than the Johnston total, but I believe there were more +masterpieces. A head by Greuze brought 32,500 francs. The highest prices +seemed to be carried off by the Dutch painters, who were in force, and +three works by Hobbema, a country residence, a forest scene, and a +windmill, brought respectively 50,000, 81,000, and 30,000 francs.</p> + +<p>The prices for good pictures, taking into account agreeableness of +subject and state of preservation, seem to be much the same in New York +and Paris, though French newspapers fancy American taste for art to be +at barbarian pitch. They should learn otherwise from the American +painting and sculpture in Paris, London, Vienna, Florence, and Rome; +they might learn otherwise from the discriminating appreciation of their +own artists at such sales as Mr. Johnston's. The worst statuary as well +as by far the best at Philadelphia last year was Italian, and some of +the worst painting as well as the best was Spanish. There is some +monstrous governmental art, no doubt, with us, but as for popular taste, +there is nothing in America so vulgar as the cheap glass necklaces, tin +spangles, and painted trinkets on the sacred images in the churches of +Southern Europe. American travellers speak of the contrast between the +beautiful cathedral and its hideous painted images bedizened with trash +to which dollar-store jewels are gems of art; and the approaches to a +splendid church or castle are very likely bedecked with clumsy, +unvolatile angels, most terrestrial and unlovely. It is true that the +decoration of temples and the adoration of images, whether under heathen +or Christian auspices, has always fostered art; but American popular +taste, low as it is supposed to be, would hardly set up in churches +statues of painted wood only fit for tobacco shops. In Rome, where +American taste is looked down upon, they have annual shows of painted +wooden figures of saints and angels, in all hues, each uglier than the +other, to be sold for putting upon the altars as votive offerings. In +fact, wherever the "Latin race" is, the popular taste runs to blocks of +the Virgin and Child resembling the lay figures in a tailor's shop.</p> + +<p>The leading thought on this subject is that art has made greater strides +in the United States within the past twenty years than for the century +preceding. Twenty years ago there was comparatively no art public at +all. There were not a quarter part as many foreign pictures here as +to-day; there were not a fourth part as many American artists. The +department of American water colors has been substantially created +within ten years. The facilities for art education have been quadrupled +within the same period, and the wealthy who form galleries have +multiplied in like proportion. American progress in science and +mechanism, though so great, falls short of American progress in taste +and American productivity in the fine arts.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Philip Quilibet.</span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY" id="SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY"></a>SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.</h2> + + +<h3>PROTECTION FROM LIGHTNING.</h3> + +<p>Prof. Clerk Maxwell says that the ordinary lightning rod is a great +mistake. It acts to discharge electricity from the clouds at all +possible opportunities, but these discharges are smaller than would +occur without the rod. The true method is to encase the building in a +network of rods, when it will take its charge quietly like a Leyden jar. +Taking the case of a powder mill, it would be sufficient to surround it +with a conducting material, to sheathe its roof, walls, and ground-floor +with thick sheet copper, and then no electrical effect could occur +within it on account of any thunderstorm outside. There would be no need +of any earth connection. We might even place a layer of asphalte between +the copper floor and the ground, so as to insulate the building. If the +mill were then struck with lightning, it would remain charged for some +time, and a person standing on the ground outside and touching the wall +might receive a shock, but no electrical effect would be perceived +inside, even on the most delicate electrometer.</p> + +<p>This sheathing with sheet copper is not necessary. It is quite +sufficient to enclose the building with a network of a good conducting +substance. For instance, if a copper wire, say No. 4, B. W. G. (0.238 +inches diameter), were carried round the foundation of the house, up +each of the corners and gables, and along the ridges, this would +probably be a sufficient protection for an ordinary building against any +thunderstorm in this climate. The copper wire may be built into the wall +to prevent theft, but should be connected to any outside metal, such as +lead or zinc on the roof, and to metal rain-water pipes. In the case of +a powder-mill it might be advisable to make the network closer by +carrying one or two additional wires over the roof and down the walls to +the wires at the foundations. If there are water or gas pipes which +enter the building from without, these must be connected with the system +of conducting wires; but if there are no such metallic connections with +distant points, it is not necessary to take any pains to facilitate the +escape of the electricity into the earth. But it is not advisable to put +up a tail pointed conductor.</p> + + +<h3>STEAM MACHINERY AND PRIVATEERING.</h3> + +<p>Mr. Barnaby, a prominent English naval constructor, has written a +memorandum on the British mercantile marine as an adjunct to the navy in +time of war. He points out that privateering has been made obsolete, not +merely by popular feeling, but also by the progress of the arts. A +privateer, he thinks, must be prepared to meet regular ships of war of +about the same strength. This the introduction of steam machinery has +made impossible. War ships are built for security, merchant steamers for +economical work, and the different objects have necessitated different +arrangements. In a word, the machinery of war ships is carefully +disposed below the water line, that of marine vessels is usually above +the water line. The latter would therefore be much more subject to +injury from shot than the other. This state of things excludes from +service as privateers all but the swiftest vessels, and Mr. Barnaby +thinks that the use of the merchant marine "would be confined to ships +that could save themselves by their speed if they met a ship of war, +whether armored or not," and that only those which can steam eleven and +a half or twelve knots an hour can be considered serviceable for +privateering. This limits the number of vessels available for this +service to 400 or 500, and the common idea that England can, in case of +war, "cover the sea" with her ships is proved to be untrue. Even these +vessels could not be used as privateers except against certain nations. +The Government would be compelled to buy them, and this would cost, he +estimates, a hundred to a hundred and fifty million dollars. This +addition to the regular fleet he thinks would enable England to "close +up every hostile port, and the slow steamers and the helpless sailing +ships might cross the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> seas in such security (privateering not being +admissible) that merchandise would be as safe in the English ship as in +the neutral." The fault in all this reasoning is that a ship of inferior +speed is certain to meet with a swifter antagonist, and therefore become +a capture. Our experience with the Confederate cruisers was that the +efforts of a very large navy may be eluded and defied for years, without +regard to the sailing qualities on either side.</p> + + +<h3>MAN AND ANIMALS.</h3> + +<p>The influence upon animals of their association with man formed the +subject of an interesting discussion in the British Association meeting. +Mr. Shaw read a paper "On the Mental Progress of Animals During the +Human Period," and Dr. Grierson mentioned an instance of intelligence +which had come under his own notice. Five years ago a barrel was put up +in his garden at the top of a high pole. The barrel was perforated with +holes and divided in the centre. In the course of two days two starlings +visited the barrel, and returned on the following day, and in about a +week afterward two pairs of starlings came and occupied it, and brought +up their young. They were very wild starlings, and readily took flight +when any person went near the barrel. In the second year four pairs of +starlings occupied the barrel, and they were much tamer than the +previous ones, and this last year there were a number of pairs of +starlings so tame that they would almost allow him to take hold of them. +They had now changed their mode of speaking, for the starlings in his +garden frequently articulated words.</p> + + +<h3>THE LIMBS OF WHALES.</h3> + +<p>Whales have rudimentary limbs, and Prof. Struthers concludes that such +muscles existed in the whale-bone whales, but in ordinary teethed whales +they were merely represented by fibrous tissue. These muscles existing +in the true bottle-nosed whale had a special interest, as the teeth in +that whale were rudimentary and functionless. He had found these muscles +in the forearms of whales largely mixed with fibrous tissue, so the +transition was easy. Prof. MacAlister of Dublin thinks that whales were +not of very ancient origin, for the existence of the rudimentary limbs +tends to show that a sufficient length of time has not elapsed since the +use of the limb was essential to the earlier animal to produce its +complete obliteration.</p> + + +<h3>OUR EDUCATIONAL STANDING.</h3> + +<p>The advance which this country has made in educational facilities of all +grades within its hundred years of life was summarized as follows by +Prof. Phelps, President of the National Educational Association:</p> + +<p>"Prior to 1776 but nine colleges had been established, and not more than +five were really efficient. Now there are more than 400 colleges and +universities, with nearly 57,000 students, and 3,700 professors and +teachers. Then little was done for the higher education of women. Now +there are 209 female seminaries, 23,445 students, and 2,285 teachers. +There are also 322 professional schools of various classes, excluding +23,280 students and 2,490 instructors. Then normal schools had no +existence. Now there are 124, with 24,405 students and 966 instructors. +There were then no commercial colleges. Now 127 are in operation, with +25,892 students and 577 teachers. Then secondary and preparatory schools +had scarcely a name by which to live. Now 1,122 are said to exist, +affording instruction to 100,593 pupils, and giving employment to 6,163 +teachers. The kindergarten is a very recent importation. In 1874 we were +blessed with 55 of these human nurseries, with 1,636 pupils and 125 +teachers. Now 37 States and 11 Territories report an aggregate of more +than 13,000,000 school population, or more than four times the total +population of the country in 1776. Then the school enrollment was of +course unknown. Now it amounts to the respectable figure of about +8,500,000. Then the schools were scattered and their number +correspondingly restricted. Now they are estimated at 150,000, employing +250,000 teachers. The total income of the public schools is given at +$82,000,000, their expenditures at $75,000,000, and the value of their +property at $165,000,000. The number of illiterates by the census of +1870 above the age of ten years, in round numbers, was 5,500,000. Of +these more than 2,000,000 were adults, upward of 2,000,000 more were +from fifteen to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> twenty-one years of age, and 1,000,000 were between ten +and fifteen years. Of the number between fifteen and twenty-one years it +is estimated that about one-half have passed the opportunity for +education."</p> + + +<h3>SURFACE MARKINGS.</h3> + +<p>Mr. James Croll, in a letter to "Nature" (July 13, 1876), incidentally +mentions the lessons that may be derived from the configurations of the +earth's surface.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Given the hardly perceptible wearing of water and time, a +cañon a mile deep, and many hundreds of miles long, has +resulted from the flowing of a stream. Given glacial 'abrasion' +and time enough, then valleys of rounded section and firths and +lake-basins of a particular kind probably resulted from the +flowing of ice.</p> + +<p>"Where a stream flows from source to mouth on a gradual slope, +there has been no great disturbance of level since the stream +began to work. Where ice fills the dales there are no cañons. +Where ice has filled dales and has left fresh marks, cañons are +short and small. In mountain regions, where ice-marks are rare +or absent, cañons are of great depth and length, apparently +because their streams have flowed in the same channels ever +since the mountains were raised. But where cañons are marked +features, these lakes, firths, and dales of rounded section are +very rare, or do not exist. It seems therefore that hollows +which have, in fact, been carved out of the earth's surface may +be known for water-work or for ice-work by their shape, and +that firths, dales, and lakes may mark the sites of local +glacial periods; and cañons the sites of climates that have not +been glacial since the streams began to flow."</p></div> + + +<h3>THE OLDEST STONE TOOLS.</h3> + +<p>One of the problems which geologists now propose to themselves is to +ascertain definitely whether the existence of man before the close of +the glacial epoch can be certainly proved. The method of proof consists +in the examination of formations older than those of that epoch, in the +hope of finding in them bones or implements of human origin. Mr. S. B. +J. Skertchly thinks he has done this. In the valley sides around the +town of Brandon, in England, "are preserved patches of brick-earth, +which are valuable as affording the only workable clay in the district. +Whenever these beds are well exposed they are seen to underlie the +chalky boulder-clay of glacial age. Of this there cannot be the +slightest doubt, for the glacial bed is typically developed and not in +the slightest degree reconstructed. In these beds I have been so +fortunate as to find palæolithic implements in two places; and in one of +them quantities of broken bones and a few fresh-water shells. The +implements are of the oval type, boldly chipped, but without any of the +finer work which distinguishes the better made palæolithic implements. +Although it would be rash to lay too great a stress upon the characters +of these implements, it is nevertheless worthy of remark that they do +belong to the crudest type. Equally rough specimens are found in the +gravels above the boulder-clay, and even among neolithic finds. Still +these very antique implements certainly do seem to belong to an earlier +stage of civilization, if we regard them as examples of the best +workmanship of their makers." These, he thinks, are the oldest specimens +of man's handiwork known, and prove him to have lived before the +culmination of the glacial epoch.</p> + + +<h3>ORIGIN OF THE SPANISH PEOPLE.</h3> + +<p>An anthropologist, M. Turbino, has written a paper on the relations of +the people who inhabit Spain and Portugal, from which it appears that +those civilized races present a heterogeneity that reminds us forcibly +of the condition in which the savage tribes of America were at the time +of the discovery, and indeed are still. There is found in the Spanish +races no unity of origin or of physique. There is not only +dissimilarity, but also antithesis and opposition. M. Turbino endeavored +to show that the same diversity existed in the region of morals, in +language, in art, and in the ideas of right and law, and that thus there +is really no Spanish race and no means of establishing in the Iberian +Peninsula a centralized state.</p> + +<p>Broca, in discussing these facts, asserted that the same state of things +exists everywhere; that the idea of race as applied to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> the people of +the present political divisions is untrue. The only great barriers of +states are their geographical limits.</p> + + +<h3>THE ENGLISH METEORITE.</h3> + +<p>Prof. Maskelyne, of the British Museum, seems to be particularly +gratified by the fall of a metallic meteorite in England. He says:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is, indeed, an iron meteorite, and the special interest of +this statement lies in the fact that, though our great +collection of 311 distinct meteorites at the Museum contains +104 indubitable iron meteorites, the falls of only seven of the +latter were witnessed. The collection contains eight stony +meteorites that have fallen in the British Islands; but the +Rowton meteorite is only the second iron meteorite known as +having been found in Great Britain."</p></div> + +<p>It weighs seven and three-quarter pounds, is angular in shape, and he +supposes that it is but the fragment of a much larger aerolite, since +one loud explosion was heard and rumbling sounds, which may have denoted +others, were heard before it fell.</p> + + +<h3>THE BOOMERANG.</h3> + +<p>Mr. A. W. Howitt, after many years' observation in Australia, reports +that the boomerang, though a singular, is not the marvellous instrument +which we are told of in some books of travel; especially does he deny it +the power of continuing its flight after striking its object, and also +the power of returning with exact aim to the thrower's hand. That might +be in an instrument which was made with theoretical perfectness, but as +it is the return flight is very wild. He had a trial made by several +natives, one of them a boomerang thrower of great skill. The ground was +good, and the only drawback was a light sea breeze. He found that the +throws could be placed in two classes, one in which the boomerang was +held when thrown in a plane perpendicular to the horizon, the other in +which one plane of the boomerang was inclined to the left of the +thrower.</p> + +<p>In the first method of throwing the missile proceeded, revolving with +great velocity, in a perpendicular plane for say one hundred yards, when +it became inclined to the left, travelling from right to left. It then +circled upward, the plane in which it revolved indicating a cone, the +apex of which would lie some distance in front of the thrower. "When the +boomerang in travelling passed round to a point above and somewhat to +the right of the thrower, and perhaps one hundred feet above the ground, +it appeared to become stationary for a moment; I can only use the term +<i>hovering</i> to describe it. It then commenced to descend, still revolving +in the same direction, but the curve followed was reversed, the +boomerang travelling from left to right, and, the speed rapidly +increasing, it flew far to the rear. At high speed a sharp whistling +noise could be heard. In the second method, which was shown by 'bungil +wunkun,' and elicited admiring ejaculations of 'ko-ki' from the black +fellows, the boomerang was thrown in a plane considerably inclined to +the left. It there flew forward for say the same distance as before, +gradually curving upward, when it seemed to 'soar' up—this is the best +term—just as a bird may be seen to circle upward with extended wings. +The boomerang of course was all this time revolving rapidly. It is +difficult to estimate the height to which it soared, making, I think, +two gyrations; but judging from the height of neighboring trees on the +river bank, which it surmounted, it may have reached one hundred and +fifty feet. It then soared round and round in a decreasing spiral, and +fell about one hundred yards in front of the thrower. This was performed +several times. The descending curve passed the thrower, I think, three +times.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Another method of throwing was mentioned; namely, to throw the +boomerang in such a manner that it would strike the ground with +its flat side some distance in front of the thrower. It would +then rise upward in a spiral, returning in the same. This was +not attempted, as it was decided the boomerang was not strong +enough. A final throw in a vertical plane, so that the missile +struck the ground violently fifty or sixty yards in advance, +terminated the display. It ricocheted three times with a +twanging noise and split along the centre. My black friends +said they should soon manufacture a number of the best +constructed 'wunken' to show me. I observed that the spectators +stood about a hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> yards on one side of the thrower, and +when the boomerang in its gyrations approached us, every black +fellow had his eyes sharply fixed on it. The fact stated by +them that it was dangerous was well shown in one instance, +where it suddenly wheeled and flew so close over us that I and +Toolabar fell over each other in dodging it."</p></div> + + +<h3>A WESTERN LAVA FIELD.</h3> + +<p>Lieutenant Ruffner describes one of the great lava outflows in the West +in a way that serves to set before the reader the magnitude of the +eruptions which have made America <i>par excellence</i> the volcanic +continent. It is in New Mexico.</p> + +<p>From the Conejos river, in Colorado, one continuous sheet of lava covers +the face of the country to the south, for eighty miles unbroken; and +then for fifty miles further is now exhibited in outlying areas and +detached masses, separated from the main body by the exercise of the +power of erosion through prolonged ages. One hundred and thirty miles in +length, and perhaps thirty in breadth at its widest, the area of a +principality lies swallowed up for ever. From craters existing probably +in the San Antonio mountain and in the Ute Peak, near the boundary of +Colorado, and possibly from other centres, this flood poured over the +land. Reaching to the east, it was checked by the mountains of the +Sangre de Cristo range; flowing to the west, the mountains and hills of +the main divide, and the spur now between the Chama and the Rio Grande, +limited its extent. To the south it was deflected westwardly by the spur +of the mountains called the Picuris range, some fifteen miles south of +Taos. Protected by this spur, we find the east bank of the Rio Grande +for many miles free from the flux. Confined on the west by the slopes of +the Jemez mountains, the breadth of the field is narrowed. But from the +village of San Ildefonso to Pena Blanca, we find the lava on both sides +of the Rio Grande, spreading to the east as far as the Santa Fé creek. +Secondary centres in the Jemez mountains possibly contributed to this +extension, but the main force of the eruptions was probably felt further +to the north. However, in this vicinity the edges and extremity of the +field have been reached, and there has been so much erosion in places +since its deposition, that outlying masses, as in the bluffs to the west +of San Felipe, alone remain. Throughout the whole region thus depicted, +the lava field is the great and controlling element. The streams that +have eaten their way through it with untold difficulty are found in +narrow and deep cañons having no land for cultivation. A dangerous feat +for man to descend these precipices, the passage by an animal of burden +is almost impossible. The Rio Grande passes for eighty miles or more +through its black abyss, with walls of seven or eight hundred feet in +height, crowned with perpendicular cliffs of solid lava, two and three +hundred feet high. Throughout the whole region there is no agriculture.</p> + + +<h3>THE PRINCIPLE OF CEPHALIZATION.</h3> + +<p>In the last of a series of papers on cephalization (or brain +development) as a fundamental principle in the development of the system +of animal life, Prof. Dana says ("American Journal," October, 1876): "I +would refer to the case among mammals for an illustration of the +principle that the lowest forms are those having their locomotive +functions located in the posterior parts of the body; and that in the +higher the forces, or force organs, are more and more forward in the +structure. For example, in the whale the tail is the propelling organ, +and is of enormous power and magnitude, and the brain is very small, and +is situated far from the head extremity in a great mass of flesh and +bone furnished with poor organs of sense; a grade up, in the horse or +ox, the tail or posterior extremity is no longer an organ of locomotion, +and is little more than a caudal whip lash, and locomotion is performed +by organs situated more anteriorly, the legs, and a well-formed head +carries a brain which is a vastly higher organ of intelligence than that +of the whale, but the legs are simply organs of locomotion, and the +hinder are the more powerful; and higher up, in the tiger or cat, the +fore legs—not the hind legs—are the organs of chief muscular force, +and these have higher functions than that of simple locomotion, and +further, the body is proportionately shortened, and the head is +shortened anteriorly, or in the jaws, and approximates thus toward the +condition of man. The existence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> or not of a switch-like tail, as in +ordinary quadrupeds, has little bearing on the question of the degree of +cephalization, since the organ is not an organ of locomotion, or one +indicating a large posterior development of muscular bone. But, +approaching man in the system of life, even this seems to have +significance."</p> + + +<h3>CURIOSITIES OF THE HERRING FISHERY.</h3> + +<p>The hot weather last summer affected even the herring fishery. The +fishermen off the Scotch coast had been supplied with sea thermometers +by the Scottish Meteorological Society, and they found that during one +week, when the sea water showed a temperature of 58 deg. to 59 deg., no +fish were caught. But when the temperature fell to 55 deg. the herring +were caught in great abundance. Indeed, they flocked to the land in such +numbers that many nets were taken to the bottom with their weight, and +the fishermen lost considerable sums from this odd mishap. The action of +the Meteorological has produced important results. The entirely new +discovery has been made that the herring love cold water, and in seasons +when the temperature of the sea water rises, they keep away from the +land, in deeper water, between the fifteen to eighteen fathoms for which +the nets are calculated. The colder the weather the greater is the take +of fish; 1875, a year when the water was considerably and continuously +warmer than 1874, having been a poor year, while the latter was a better +one. This action of the fish makes it probable that it likes a given +range of temperature, neither too high nor too low. In cold water this +belt of agreeable temperature is found nearer the sun-warmed surface, +and the fish creep inshore. Many singular facts relating to this fishery +are known. If a thunderstorm occurs, the fishermen expect a good catch +on that day, but the next day they will get none except in deep water, +and the supposition is that the fish are leaving the land. The herring +has a strong sense of locality, always returning to the same ground. +Experienced dealers can tell by inspection in just what sea or loch a +given lot of fish were caught.</p> + + +<h3>NATURAL GAS IN FURNACES.</h3> + +<p>A paper describing the use of natural gas in the puddling furnaces at +Leechburg, Pa., was presented by Mr. A. L. Holley to the American +Institute of Mining Engineers. This well is about twenty miles northeast +of Pittsburg, on one of the side tributaries of the Alleghany river. It +had been drilled in search of oil to a depth of 1,250 feet in 1871, but +none was found. A great flow of gas was developed, however, accompanied +by a slight spray of salt water, and this has continued with little or +no diminution to the present time. The gas in its escape has been +discharged through a five-inch pipe, and at a pressure of from sixty to +eighty pounds per square inch. The rolling mill of Messrs. Roger & +Burchfield is on the opposite side of the river, and it has been for +some years devoted to the production of fine grades of sheet iron from +charcoal pig metal, by puddling and in knobbling fires. The usual weekly +product of the mill has been thirty tons of No. 3 tin plates and fifty +tons of No. 24 to twenty-eight sheets.</p> + +<p>The well was bought by this firm for $1,000, and the gas is led across +the river, a distance of 500 feet, through a three-inch pipe. It is +distributed through half-inch pipes, and at a pressure of about +forty-five pounds per square inch, to several of the furnaces. No +essential alteration in any of the furnaces has been found necessary in +the use of the gas fuel, except to brick up the fire bridge and to put +in the gas and air pipes. The old grate used for coal is loosely covered +with bricks and cinder, so that a slight percolation of air may take +place through them. The gas is admitted through a half-inch pipe, and +blows toward the fire-bridge through eighteen or twenty one-eighth inch +jets. The air is blown in, at about 2 lbs. pressure, through two one and +one-eighth-inch jets, obliquely down upon the centre of the hearth, and +a very perfect combustion is obtained. A great improvement is effected +in the quality of the product of the puddling furnaces by the combined +action of the gas and air blast. The air is blown in during the melting, +but it is then shut off until the boiling begins. It is then turned on +full, and a violent boiling action is maintained without any rabbling. +Many advantages<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> result from the use of this fuel. The product of the +mill has increased about thirty per cent., from sixty to seventy tons of +coal are saved daily, besides the labor necessary to fire with it, and a +poorer quality of iron can be used in making the tin plate. Thus the +iron now used is credited to the furnace at $45 per ton, while charcoal +blooms have cost $80. These are certainly enormous advantages, and +though every mill cannot have a permanent gas well, it must be more +economical to produce such results by making coal into gas than to +continue using it in the solid form. The gas at Leechburg is used in +fourteen furnaces and under seven boilers. Its composition is carbonic +acid, 0.35; carbonic oxide, 0.26; illuminating hydrocarbons, 0.56; +hydrogen, 4.79; marsh gas, C H<sub>4</sub>, 89.65; ethyl hydride, C<sub>2</sub> H<sub>6</sub>, +4.39; specific gravity, 0.558. This analysis shows about 57 per cent. of +carbon and 42 per cent. of hydrogen. If the well discharges one million +cubic feet of gas daily, it would weigh about sixty tons, yielding +thirty-nine tons of carbon. Mr. Holley calculates that it equals about +150 tons of bituminous coal, such as is found in the Pittsburg region.</p> + + +<h3>SOUTH CAROLINA PHOSPHATES.</h3> + +<p>In England the favorite source of phosphates of lime is the "Cambridge +coprolites." These are small, hard, gray nodules, obtained by washing a +stratum, of about one foot in thickness, lying in the upper greensand +formation in Cambridgeshire. Similar coprolites are found and mined in +other districts of England, but they are of inferior quality, containing +more oxide of iron and alumina. These give the tribasic phosphate of +lime, which results from the application of sulphuric acid to the +nodules, a tendency to "go back" to the insoluble condition. French +nodules are of inferior quality from another cause. They contain very +much silica, sometimes even forty per cent. The Cambridge coprolites are +so much esteemed that buyers of artificial manure often stipulate that +it shall be made from them. As a consequence the privilege of mining the +ground is costly, sometimes as much as $1,500 an acre being paid. The +yield is about three hundred tons to the acre. An English chemist +reports that the South Carolina phosphate, made in factories situated in +and near Charleston, ranks next in value to this Cambridge product. It +contains 54 per cent. of tribasic phosphate of lime, 14 per cent. of +carbonate of lime, 3-1/2 per cent. of iron oxide and alumina, 2-1/2 per +cent. of fluoride of calcium, and 15 per cent. of silica. It consists of +bone fragments derived from animal species which are now extinct. These +bones have accumulated in old river beds, and the mining operations are +compelled to follow the sinuosities of these streams. Though a supply +derived from such sources is necessarily limited, the quantity known to +be available is very great, and has been estimated to last a century +with a yearly extraction of 50,000 tons. In addition to the river +phosphate is a lighter deposit, occurring in a stratum of sand and clay +about two feet thick; but this is not so valuable, though it is softer +and easier ground. The river deposit is nearly black, and when ground +makes a very dark powder. It is a great favorite, and in some respects +the finest natural source of phosphatic manure in the world.</p> + + +<h3>RARE METALS FROM OLD COINS.</h3> + +<p>The operations of the Government assay office in Frankfort during the +last year have developed the fact that gold, platinum, palladium, and +selenium are found in old silver coins and also in ores which were +formerly supposed to be nearly pure sulphides and oxides of lead and +silver. From 400,000 pounds of silver and 5,000 pounds of gold were +obtained twelve pounds of platinum, two pounds of palladium, and several +pounds of selenium. To obtain these the gold is first precipitated from +the solution by ferrous chloride, all the other metals by iron turnings. +The precipitate is first submitted to the action of ferric chloride to +dissolve the copper, and the residue is fused with charcoal and soda to +separate the selenium. The regulus from this operation is dissolved, and +a compound of selenium and palladium, or of these with platinum, is +obtained. They are composed of equal atoms of the two metals and form +hard brilliant plates. The presence of these metals in coins is less +remarkable than in such ores as those of Commern and Mechernich on the +west<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> bank of the Rhine. These ores occur as small granules of galena in +a soft sandstone, their origin being still a mooted point. The ore +yields a very soft and pure lead, though the presence of pyrite prevents +the manufacture of the virgin lead used in making the best brands of +white paint.</p> + + +<h3>A FRENCH MOUNTAIN WEATHER STATION.</h3> + +<p>The French government has placed on the top of the Puy de Dome a +meteorological observatory, which, as that is the highest land in +France, answers to our stations on Mt. Washington and Pike's Peak. It +is, however, constructed in a style very different from those somewhat +forbidding abodes. At the top is an observatory tower, placed on a +platform, and upon this is placed the anemometer, especially constructed +to withstand the force of the storms. Within the tower is a well hole +fifty feet deep, which leads to a tunnel more than a hundred feet long, +at the end of which is placed the keeper's house. This is a massive +building, situated a short distance from the top, where it is partly +protected by rocks. The whole work cost $45,000, and $20,000 more will +be spent in supplying it with apparatus.</p> + + +<h3>MIGRATION OF THE LEMMING.</h3> + +<p>A new theory has been broached to explain the migrations of the Norway +lemming, a variety of field mouse. Every few years an immense body of +these animals leaves their habitat and proceed westward, attacking every +obstacle in front in preference to flanking it, until it reaches the +sea, which the little animals boldly enter, only to perish there. No +conceivable advantage to the lemming is known to have ever resulted from +these long and arduous marches. The losses in swimming large rivers, +from fire, the attacks of predatory animals, hunger, and fatigue, are so +great that but few reach the sea, and the remnant always perish there. +Mr. W. Duppa Crotch, who has studied the habits of these animals for ten +years, now suggests that they are moved by an hereditary instinct, and +that their prehistoric home was some country west of Sweden, and now +covered by the Atlantic. The same kind of reasoning would allot an +Atlantic origin to the progenitors of the grasshoppers, which have been +such plagues in this country for a few years, for, as stated in the +August "Galaxy," those which moved eastward in 1875 did not halt until +they perished on the ocean beach or in its waves. Mr. Crotch has thrown +new light on some of the habits of the lemming. According to him, says +"Nature," the migration is not all completed in one year, as formerly +supposed, nor do they, as stated, form processions and cut their way +through obstacles; but, breeding several times in the season, they +gather in batches, and at intervals make a move westward. Their +pugnacity, he states, is astonishing, and the approach of any animal, or +even the shadow of a cloud, arouses the anger of this small creature +like a guinea pig, and they back against a stone or rock uttering shrill +defiance. Our author found, in most examples, a bare patch on the rump, +due to their rubbing against the said buttress of support when at bay. +He wonders why a bare patch, and not a callosity, should not result from +this innate, apparently hereditary habit.</p> + + +<h3>NEW DISCOVERY OF NEOLITHIC REMAINS.</h3> + +<p>A very interesting discovery of human remains has been made in a cave in +Cravanch, about two miles northwest of Belfort, France. Some workmen, +excavating in a quarry of Jurassic limestone, found the opening to the +cave, the bottom of which was covered with stalagmites, while there were +no corresponding stalactites hanging from the roof. Some of these +calcareous columns appear to be artificial piles covered with the +limestone sheeting. Between them, and also covered with stalagmite, were +a quantity of human skeletons, with the skulls raised above the rest of +the bodies. A number of weapons and implements, together with a mat of +plaited meshes, have been found, all belonging to the polished stone +period. It is thought that careful search may uncover remains of an +earlier date. The cave is quite large, a hundred feet long and forty +wide and high. It was at once taken possession of by the authorities and +placed under the charge of Mr. Felix Voulot, who hopes to extract at +least one skeleton entire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>OCTOBER WEATHER.</h3> + +<p>The most noticeable features of the month are: the hurricane of the 17th +to 23d; lower temperatures in the districts east of the Rocky mountains; +large excess of rainfall in some districts and large deficiencies in +others; low water in the rivers.</p> + +<p><i>Areas of High Pressure.</i>—These have generally appeared in the Upper +Missouri valley, from whence their movements have been south and +eastward across the country. Their advance has been frequently marked by +high northerly winds and gales, especially when preceded by decidedly +low-pressure areas, in the more northern districts and on the Texas +coast. When rainy weather has preceded them, the fall in the temperature +has been sufficient to turn the rain into sleet and snow, while frequent +and heavy frosts have been produced.</p> + +<p><i>Areas of Low Pressure.</i>—Nine have been traced. Excepting the hurricane +of the 17th to 23d, the centres of all have moved over the northern +sections, and further northward than during previous Octobers. They have +been frequently accompanied by barometric troughs, extending south or +southwestward toward the Gulf, in which rainy weather and high winds or +gales have prevailed.</p> + +<h3><i>Temperatures.</i>—</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td colspan="2"><i>Maximum.</i></td><td colspan="2"><i>Minimum.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Albany</td><td align='left'>70</td><td align='left'>deg.</td><td align='left'>23</td><td align='left'>deg.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Boston</td><td align='left'>70</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>26</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Buffalo</td><td align='left'>73</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>24</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cape May</td><td align='left'>73</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>34</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Chicago</td><td align='left'>73</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>28</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cincinnati</td><td align='left'>74</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>29</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cleveland</td><td align='left'>75</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>26</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Detroit</td><td align='left'>72</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>24</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Duluth</td><td align='left'>67</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>23</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Jacksonville</td><td align='left'>85</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>43</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Marquette</td><td align='left'>73</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>28</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mt. Washington</td><td align='left'>48</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>5</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>New Orleans</td><td align='left'>84</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>50</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>New York</td><td align='left'>73</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>31</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Pike's Peak</td><td align='left'>41</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>-2</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Philadelphia</td><td align='left'>75</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>31</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>San Diego</td><td align='left'>80</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>48</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>San Francisco</td><td align='left'>72</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>52</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Washington</td><td align='left'>78</td><td align='center'>"</td><td align='left'>30</td><td align='center'>"</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>The first frost of the season is reported from a large number of +stations, and first snow from about twenty.</p> + +<p><i>Verifications.</i>—The average is 92.8 per cent. for the weather; 90.1, +wind direction; 91.1, temperature; 87.7, barometric changes. For the +whole country the average verified is 90.4 per cent. There were four +omissions to predict out of 3,720, or 0.1 percent.</p> + +<p>A severe earthquake shock was felt at San Francisco at 9:20 p.m., on the +6th, lasting ten seconds; motion from northwest to southeast. A second +and lighter shock was felt the same day.</p> + + +<h3>FRENCH NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES.</h3> + +<p>Probably few American travellers visit a collection of antiquities, +infinitely older than the paintings, statues, and relics of mediæval +life, or even than those of Roman and Grecian age, but which is as +freely open to them, near Paris. This is the museum which has been +established in the château of Saint Germain. France has been +particularly fortunate in rescuing fragments of the life which existed +within her borders long before the day of the very earliest races to +which history points us. These fragments have sometimes been preserved +in the most fortuitous manner, and afford unique illustrations of the +remarkable accidents to which man is occasionally indebted for his +knowledge. The fossil man of Denyse, whatever his age may have been, has +been preserved for our inspection by becoming overwhelmed in a volcanic +eruption. The skeleton of Mentone was found by Rivière while engaged in +a systematic search among French caves. Other caves in France have +preserved evidences sufficiently distinct for us to gain valuable hints +of ancient life. In fact all the ages of man, so far as they are +recognized, and all the kinds of proof concerning them, are well +represented in French collections. During the reign of the late Emperor +this museum was founded, and has received the case of many noted French +<i>savants</i> who have won distinction in this field of research. The walls +are covered by finely painted maps illustrating the distribution of +caves, and rock shelters, and places where instruments of stone, bone, +and bronze have been found. Pictures are also exhibited which illustrate +the views of former social customs which are thought to be supported by +the material evidences assembled in the château. In the cases are not +only large collections of celts, but also the carved bones, horn, and +stones which, by their distribution through the stalagmite of caves, or +through the gravel of ancient river beds, give infallible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> proof of the +presence of man. One floor contains a collection not less interesting, +though illustrating the manners of a much later age. It is formed of the +military weapons, bridges, fortifications, camps, etc., which were +constructed to illustrate the "life of Cæsar," by Napoleon. This +collection is, and will probably remain, unique. At the meeting of the +Geographical Congress last year, these great engines of war were taken +to the park and exhibited in action. The museum is now placed under the +control of the historical commission for constructing the map of Gaul. +This body is publishing a series of maps and engravings to illustrate +the progress of the science of the prehistoric and subsequent periods. A +catalogue of the collections has been made and is sold to visitors. +There is also in the establishment a special library in which has been +collected by M. Gabriel de Mortillet all the books relating to +prehistoric antiquities, and which is open free on certain days to the +public.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is found that insects preserve their colors better under yellow glass +than in any other color. The curtains of entomological show-cases and +the blinds of the room should be yellow. Only in this way can the +delicate carmine tints of some insect wings be preserved.</p> + + +<p>A student of animal nature announces a case of two hens, who by joint +efforts hatched one chick. They have since, for some weeks, been +parading the yard, each clucking and manifesting all the anxiety and +care of a true mother over this one. The hens never quarrel, or show the +least appearance of jealousy or rivalry.</p> + + +<p>M. Tresca, who has charge of the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers, the +institution which in Paris answers to our Patent Office, says that +drawings of new inventions are more useful than models, are cheaper, and +are very much oftener consulted. In Paris the model room is covered with +dust and rarely entered.</p> + + +<p>The French weather bureau intends not only to study the thunderstorm, +hailstorm, rainfall, inundations, and frosts, with especial reference to +their effects upon agriculture, but also to experiment upon the +asserted effect of smoke as a preventive to frost. The experiments will +be extensive and may cover a large valley.</p> + + +<p>To discover by the spectroscope the smallest quantity of a gaseous or +very volatile hydrocarbon, the Messrs. Negri introduce a small quantity +of the gaseous mixture into a tube. This mixture should not contain +oxygen, carbonic oxide, or carbonic acid; and the pressure is to be +reduced to not more than twenty millimetres. Then if a hydrocarbon is +present, the passage of a spark from a Ruhmkorff's coil will cause the +appearance of a sky-blue light. Viewed with the spectroscope, this +presents the spectrum of carbon, and generally so brilliant as to mask +totally the spectra of other gases present.</p> + + +<p>The rare metals cerium, lauthanum, and didymium have been lately +investigated by Drs. Hillebrand and Norton, in Bunsen's laboratory. +Cerium looks like iron, having both its color and lustre, but is +heavier, and has the hardness of calcite. It tarnishes slowly in dry air +and rapidly in moist air. It ignites so readily that pieces scratched +off inflame, and its wire burns more brilliantly than magnesium wire. +Lauthanum is a little harder, but also a little lighter. It tarnishes +more easily and inflames less easily than cerium. Didymium resembles +lauthanum. The metals were all obtained by electrolysis of the +chlorides.</p> + + +<p>It is stated that a week's work in Birmingham comprises, among its +various results, the fabrication of 14,000,000 pens, 6,000 bedsteads, +7,000 guns, 300,000,000 cut nails, 100,000,000 buttons, 1,000 saddles, +5,000,000 copper or bronze coins, 20,000 pairs of spectacles, six tons +of papier maché wares, over £30,000 worth of jewelry, 4,000 miles of +iron and steel wire, ten tons of pins, five tons of hairpins and hooks +and eyes, 130,000 gross of wood screws, 500 tons of nuts and screw bolts +and spikes, fifty tons of wrought iron hinges, 350 miles' length of wax +for vestas, forty tons of refined metal, forty tons of German silver, +1,000 dozens of fenders, 3,500 bellows, 800 tons of brass and copper +wares—these, with a multitude of other articles, being exported to +almost all parts of the civilized world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + + +<p>The aërated beverages of which Americans are so fond should not be kept +in copper vessels, for carbonic acid (which is the gas present) +dissolves this metal with great avidity. From three-hundredths to +one-tenth of a grain of copper per gallon has been found in aërated +lemonade, ginger ale, soda water, etc.</p> + + +<p>In making the ultimate analysis of organic compounds by combustion, with +lead chromate and metallic copper reduced by hydrogen, the results +obtained are too high, on account of the expulsion of hydrogen, which +had been occluded by the copper. Heating the copper to 150 deg. C. does +not prevent the error, which may be .05 per cent.</p> + + +<p>Mayer & Walkoff, who have been experimenting on the respiration of +plants, find that the action goes on both in light and darkness, and +that changes of temperature within normal limits have little effect. +There is no direct relation between growth in length and respiration, a +conclusion that is in conflict with that of previous experiments.</p> + + +<p>The famous "Blue Grotto" in the island of Capri, Italy, has been +investigated spectroscopically. Most of the light enters through the +water, which absorbs the red rays entirely and so much of the yellow as +to make the D line scarcely visible. The green, blue, and indigo rays +are very bright, and the F and <i>b</i> lines unite in a well marked +absorption line.</p> + + +<p>The springs of Weissenburg in the Bernese Oberland yield a water which +is popularly supposed to have the power of cicatrizing cavities in the +lungs, but its analysis shows no reason for such a power. Sulphates of +lime and magnesia are its principal solid ingredients, with chloride and +a little iodide of lithium and an organic compound having the odor of +blackberries.</p> + + +<p>The mountains about Innsbruck in the Tyrol, as well as other parts of +the Alps, present the singular phenomenon of a climate more moderate at +a considerable elevation than in the valleys. Prof. Kerner finds that +there is a warm region midway up the mountain, lying between two colder +zones above and below it. We have heretofore referred to a similar +phenomenon in Indiana.</p> + + +<p>It is remarked by anthropologists that differences of color are one of +the most marked signs of race. The Aryan word for caste is <i>Varanum</i>, +meaning color, and the Aryans are supposed to have used it to +distinguish themselves from the Dasyuf, with whom they came in contact +on crossing the Indus, when migrating from Central Asia. The first +migrating wave from that centre of human creation can no longer be +traced, and only its remnants are found among the most degraded of the +hill tribe and slave population in India. Prof. Rollesten thinks that +the earliest races of man were preëminently of the Australioid type, +which is now brown-skinned and wavy haired, with long narrow heads.</p> + + +<p>Messrs. Gladstone & Tribe have been investigating the results of the +decomposition of alcohol by aluminium. When absolute alcohol, in which +iodine has been dissolved, is poured upon finely divided aluminium in a +flask, energetic action takes place and large quantities of hydrogen are +evolved. A pasty mass remains, and this heated to 100 deg. C., gives off +alcohol, and leaves a solid residue, which liquefies at 275 deg. C., +alcohol and an oily body containing iodine passing over. At a higher +temperature, this product was again decomposed, with formation of +alcohol, ethylene, and alumina. But the most interesting results were +obtained under diminished pressure. Then a greenish white solid +sublimed, and this was found to be aluminic ethylate. This is therefore +the second known organometallic body, containing oxygen, which is +capable of distillation, cacodylic oxide being the other.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CURRENT_LITERATURE" id="CURRENT_LITERATURE"></a>CURRENT LITERATURE.</h2> + + +<p>Prof. Huxley's ingenious if somewhat shallow evasion of the Biblical +account of creation, by crediting it to Milton rather than to Moses, has +perhaps aroused many minds to inquire what modern theologians really do +think of the first chapters of Genesis. This question is answered by a +recent publication<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> by Dr. Cocker of the Michigan State University. +In the "Theistic Conception of the World" he treats the first two +chapters of the Bible as a poem, which he calls the "symbolical hymn of +creation." It has an exordium, six strophes, each with its refrain, and +an episode. He does not believe the sacred narrative intends to describe +the exact mode of forming the world, nor even to set the successive +events in order. It is an ascription, designed to embody in symbolical +language the fact that all existence is derived from God. One paragraph +will show the broad ground on which this conclusion is based:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A cursory reading of the narrative will convince any one that +its purpose is not to enlarge men's views of nature, but to +teach them something concerning nature's God. It says nothing +about the forces of nature, the laws of nature, the +classifications of natural history, or the size, positions, +distances, and motions of the heavenly bodies. From first to +last, every phenomenon and every law is linked immediately to +some act or some command of God. It is God who creates, God who +commands, God who names, God who approves, and God who blesses. +Strike out the allusions to God, and the narrative is +meaningless. Clearly it was never intended to teach science. It +has obviously one purpose, to reveal and keep before the minds +of men the grand truth <i>that Jehovah is the sole Creator and +Lord of the heavens and the earth</i>; and it leaves the +scientific comprehension of nature to the natural powers with +which God has endowed man for that end.</p></div> + +<p>But the author believes that the Mosaic account is practically correct, +or perhaps we should say harmonious with the truth. It may be truthful +without being all the truth, or truthful and still be very defective. He +considers that when scientific knowledge is complete, the Scripture, +rightly interpreted, will be found in harmony with its final +conclusions. How Moses was made acquainted with the events of creation +is a matter upon which it is impossible to be positive. The author sees +no objection to the suggestion that he may have witnessed a series of +pictures or visions, the result of which upon his mind is given in the +hymn of creation. This explanation of the Biblical narrative forms but a +small part of the work, which is chiefly given to a discussion of the +views and positive discoveries of scientific men which relate to the +production of the world. It is a remarkable tribute to the overmastering +power of positive knowledge. Science and theology are mingled in an +extraordinary way, but a way that is now necessary, for there is not one +province of human thought that has not been compelled to acknowledge the +great possibilities of inductive reasoning. Dr. Cocker labors to +establish the old faith on the new ground. He is a man of great reading +and has a strong belief in the religion to which he has given his heart. +Every question is approached in the firm faith that when rightly +interpreted it will be found to sustain the Christian religion. This is +the fundamental fault of the work. It is a plea for a cause that does +not need it, for a cause that is quite as apt to lose as to gain by the +defence. The difficulty with this method of meeting the hypothesis of +science is that the scientific views are themselves in a state of +unstable equilibrium. They may topple at any moment, and then the +correspondence that eager devotees have found between them and the Bible +is a slur that falls altogether on the religion and not on the science. +This is a great error, and those who are drawn into it belittle the +cause that is dear to them. While our author is catholic in his reading, +he does not seem to assign to all writers in his field their just value. +His quotations, the fresh, the obsolete, the trustworthy, and the +doubtful, are mingled in a confusion that only the experienced can +penetrate. His book is creditable to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> his unshaken faith, and it +presents the religious aspect of modern knowledge in a thorough manner.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is not strange that under the present condition of the general mind +the question as to the right of the State to teach religion at the +public expense should be regarded with unusual interest. This question +has been very ably discussed by the Rev. Dr. Spear, whose book upon the +subject,<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> originally published as a series of essays in "The +Independent," is notably thorough and notably calm and judicial in tone. +Dr. Spear considers the subject in both its constitutional and its +equitable aspect, and the conclusion to which he is led is that "the +public school, like the State, under whose authority it exists, by whose +taxing power it is supported, should be simply a civil institution, +absolutely secular and not at all religious in its purposes, and all +practical questions involving this principle should be settled in +accordance therewith." He admits that this logical result of his +argument excludes the Bible from the public school, just as it excludes +the Westminster Catechism, the Koran, or any of the sacred books of +heathenism. But, as he justly says, this conclusion pronounces no +judgment against the Bible and none for it; it simply omits to use it +and declines to inculcate the religion which it teaches. It is difficult +to see how any other view of the case can be taken consistently with the +spirit of our institutions, from the Constitution of the United States +downward; and it is a cheering promise of the disappearance of bigotry, +even in its milder forms, when we see this view set forth by a +distinguished orthodox minister of the Gospel. There still, however, +remains this question in connection with religious toleration and +religious qualifications—Does a religion one element of which is +absolute subservience to the will of a foreign potentate or prelate, the +Roman or the Greek, for example, and which undertakes to deal with a +civil relation, marriage for example, come properly within the provision +for universal religious toleration, or does it not, for the reasons +assigned, assume a relation to the State more or less political?</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Captain Whittaker's "Life of General Custer"<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> can no more be +estimated by fixed biographical rules than the meteoric career of his +hero can be compared to the regular and peaceful lives of other men. Not +often, perhaps, does the biographer devote himself with such +enthusiastic <i>abandon</i> to his task, and seldom is there to be found +within the covers of a single volume such an infinite variety of +incident and personal reminiscence. The chapters which deal with the +early youth of General Custer are exceedingly interesting photographs, +as it were, of a certain phase of American domestic and academic life. +The characteristics of the child, the sorrows of the "plebe," and the +aspirations and experiences of the cadet, are faithfully narrated. The +first service of the subaltern, and his initiation into the perils and +responsibilities of an officer in time of war, are interwoven with +Custer's own recollections of his generals and their campaigns. We are +irresistibly reminded of Lever in the style of the narration, and of +that dashing creature "O'Malley" in the adventures of our own dragoon. +The story of General Custer's wooing is quaintly told, and shines like a +bow of promise through all the clouds of his stormy career; it is a +romance by itself. <i>Apropos</i> of the charge which we are told won the boy +general his star, we clip a bit of word painting which could only have +been written by "one who has been there":</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Were you ever in a charge—you who read this now by the winter +fireside, long after the bones of the slain have turned to +dust, when peace covers the land? If not, you have never known +the fiercest pleasure of life. The chase is nothing to it; the +most headlong hunt is tame in comparison. In the chase the game +flees, and you shoot; here the game shoots back, and every leap +of the charging steed is a peril escaped or dashed aside. The +sense of power and audacity that possesses the cavalier, the +unity with his steed, both are perfect. The horse is as wild as +the man: with glowing eyeballs and red nostrils, he rushes +frantically forward at the very top of his speed, with huge +bounds as different from the rhythmic precision of the gallop +as the sweep of the hurricane is from the rustle of the breeze. +Horse and rider<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> are drunk with excitement; feeling and seeing +nothing but the cloud of dust, the scattered flying figures; +conscious of only one mad desire, to reach them, to smite, +smite, smite!</p></div> + +<p>The author of this book is too much of an artist, too much of a poet, +perhaps, to divest his battle descriptions of anything that is doubtful +in fact, if only it is eulogistic of his hero or picturesque in its +nature. He has an eye for color, and prefers to have his picture a showy +and effective one even if some of the accessories are purely of the +imagination. We cannot consider the letters of the "Times" special +correspondent as a reliable history of the events immediately following +the battle of Gettysburg, although they are undoubtedly glowing +bulletins of the exploits of General Kilpatrick and his temporary +subordinate, General Custer. Nor can we accept the statement of the +Detroit "Evening News" for an entirely correct report of the grand +review at Washington, in 1865, when he hands down to posterity that +sober-sided old warrior, Provost Marshal General Patrick, as one who +"had ridden down the broad avenue bearing his reins in his teeth, and +his sabre in his only hand"; although the Mazeppa act in which Custer +immediately followed is not overdrawn by the "News," because that would +be "painting the lily." There are several other extracts from newspapers +of a similar nature, but we have not space to refer to them. Captain +Whittaker's book offers material for that "coming historian," but cannot +be looked upon as an entirely safe historical authority. Colonel Chesney +says, "Accept no one-sided statement from any national historian who +rejects what is distasteful in his authorities, and uses only what suits +his own theory.... Gather carefully from actual witnesses, high and low, +such original material as they offer for the construction of the +narrative. This once being safely proved, judge critically and calmly +what was the conduct of the chief actor; how far his insight, calmness, +personal control over others, and right use of his means were concerned +in the result." The great fault of this otherwise attractive biography +is the unwise partisanship which, as Captain Whittaker shows, was so +injurious to his hero in life and which even in death does not forsake +him. At page 282 Captain Whittaker says of alleged envy and jealousy of +Custer in certain quarters:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>A great deal of this was due to the boasting and sarcastic +remarks of his injudicious friends, who could not be satisfied +with praising their own chief without depreciating others.</p></div> + +<p>Thus the author, after warning his readers of the pit into which so many +others have fallen, proceeds in the most inconsistent manner to fall +into it himself.</p> + +<p>Had we space, we could here make many extracts entirely free from the +foregoing objections. Many new descriptions of Indian life, never before +in print, are here given; some excellent essays on the prominent phases +of American military life; and many anecdotes and biographical sketches +of the officers who fell with Custer on the "Little Big-horn," with +portraits, are also given. The volume is a very large, handsome octavo, +illustrated by two portraits of General Custer (one an excellent +likeness on steel), and many full-page woodcuts, and seems especially +seasonable as a holiday present. No biographical collection can be +considered complete without it, and we should think it would have an +especial charm to military readers. That Mrs. Custer is to receive a +share of the receipts from its sale will not lessen its circulation.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Palestine is certainly an inexhaustible source of books, and Dr. +Ridgaway<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> tells us the reason why. Travellers' descriptions of the +grand mountain scenery, its strange deserts, its ancient customs, +transmitted from the dawn of history, its trees a thousand years of age, +and its mighty ruins, contribute to and intensify the interest which the +Christian feels in that region alone of all the earth. Of late years +this country has been the scene of systematic explorations and the theme +of an important series of critical works. Dr. Ridgaway's volume deserves +a place in this series, though he has little of novelty to present. But +the author has produced just the book that was needed, the one which it +might be supposed the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> traveller there would have written. Leaving +out nearly all the every-day incidents of travel, he aims to extract +from each place he saw just what is of interest to the Bible student. He +is to be congratulated on a rare ability to discriminate between the +important and entertaining and what is matter-of-course. The plan of his +journey, which was made in company with eleven others, mostly clergymen, +was to follow the route of the Israelites from Egypt to Palestine, and +then to visit every place made memorable by the life of Christ, besides +many others of Biblical interest. He tried to be critical, and +constantly discusses the pros and cons for admitting the received +location of prominent points; but in this he is not very successful, and +seems to decline at length into helpless acquiescence. He rejects the +innovations and doubts of such men as Robinson and Baker, and +acknowledges that the sacred sites have for the most part been +identified. But there is a limit to even his credulity. He swallowed +easily the "exact spot" where the cradle lay, but strained at the +fragment of a column on which Mohammed is to sit when he judges the +world, and says, "I was unable to resist the temptation to straddle it!" +Perhaps the secret of Dr. Ridgaway's success is that he has omitted +those rhapsodies which are natural enough amid such scenes, but which we +get our fill of without going to Palestine. He is too full of the real +situation to turn to fanciful imaginations, and as a consequence he +gives us the best companion to the Bible which we know of. The critical +results of his journey are small, but as a careful summary of what +others have finally settled upon his work is authentic. A large number +of engravings, of the best execution, bring the landscape and buildings +vividly before us. Many of them are from Dr. Ridgaway's sketches, others +from photographs, and the only fault we have to find is the omission of +titles to them, an omission which is artistic, but inconvenient.</p> + +<p>—Lieutenant Ruffner<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> does not give a very assuring picture of New +Mexico, considered as a possible State in our Union. It has never +prospered; its population and area of cultivated land being smaller now +than three hundred years ago. As these changes are no doubt due to the +operation of natural causes, about which scientific men do not agree, +the immediate future of the country does not appear very flattering. +Wide as the spread of westward migration has been, it has hardly +affected New Mexico. Lieutenant Ruffner says: "The line once crossed, a +foreign country is entered. Foreign faces and a foreign tongue are +encountered." For twenty-six years the Territory has formed a part of +our country, but in that time our civilization has hardly made an +impression upon it. The author, without directly saying so, seems to +regard the scheme for making it a State with disfavor, and his readers +will agree with him. He has done his country a service by this +painstaking and impartial description of a region which few but army +officers know anything about.</p> + +<p>—It is a very difficult thing nowadays to write a book of travels that +can interest the general public. A hundred years ago a man who had +circumnavigated the world was a remarkable object, and people would +crowd to see him, and read his works with avidity. But what a change the +last century has produced. Compare the difference of tone between 1776 +and 1876, and then go back and compare 1676 with the former year. There +is not anything like a parity of advance between the two centuries. The +traveller and sailor was as much of a hero in 1776 as was the captain of +the Vittoria, the last ship of Magellan's fleet when he sailed into +Cadiz in 1522, having been round the earth and lost a day in the +operation; just as Mr. Phileas Fogg, of later fame, gained one by going +in the opposite direction. Men who have been to China and India, +Australia and New Zealand, are too plentiful to-day to excite notice; +and when it comes to writing books about their adventures, it is +necessary to be cautious to avoid treading in old tracks and wearying +the reader. The man who describes a voyage round the world to-day must +be a character of interest in himself, or he will not interest his +audience. The writer of the book now before us<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> possesses the +qualifications for the task seldom possessed by the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> professional +traveller, who is apt to bore one with long stories. He has the eye of a +newspaper correspondent, the quick intuition as to what is or is not +interesting <i>per se</i>, and has actually succeeded in making an +interesting and readable book of three hundred pages out of a subject +nearly worn out. Mr. Vincent started from New York in a clipper ship, +went round the Horn to San Francisco, thence to Hawaii, where he +remained some weeks, thence to New Zealand and Australia, finally to +Calcutta, and thence home to New York, after a prolonged tour through +India, Siam, and China. The incidents of the latter tour formed the +basis of his first book, the "Land of the White Elephant," the success +of which encouraged him to this, his second venture. The chief +characteristic of Mr. Vincent's second work is its freshness and +interest. He seems to be profoundly impressed with the truth of the +saying of Thales of Miletus, that "the half is sometimes more than the +whole." The taste and judgment of the author are shown by what he leaves +out as much as by what he leaves in. There is hardly a dull page in the +book, and in each place he only notes what is curious, leaving out of +the question all that is commonplace. More could not be asked of him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>We have received the first number of the "Archives of the National +Museum at Rio de Janeiro."<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> This is a scientific institution, and +from the number of officers named it appears to be prepared for +inaugurating thorough work in archæology, geology, botany, zoölogy, etc. +Its aim, however, is not merely the study of pure science, but its +application to the immediate welfare of man through agriculture and the +industries. The director general is Dr. Netto, and the secretary Dr. +Joao Joaquin Pizarro. Most of the officers are Brazilians, but our +countryman, Prof. Hartt, is director of the "sciencias physicas," +including geology, mineralogy, and palæontology. This first number of +the "Archivos" contains papers in the Portuguese language on aboriginal +remains, one by Prof. Wiener and Prof. Hartt, and one by Dr. Netto on a +botanical subject.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Prof. Walker's work in both the Census Bureau and the Indian Department +shows how original and critical his mind is. The first fruit of his +activity as a professional teacher of political economy is an extended +treatise on the question of wages.<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> He seems to have found himself +unable to make the views of the systematic writers always harmonize with +his own conceptions, and his work is to a considerable extent +controversial. One of his prominent objects of attack is the wage-fund +theory, which is that wages are paid out of capital, that a certain +portion of the capital in every country is charged with this duty, and +that the rate of wages could be accurately determined if the amount of +this fund and the total number of laborers could be ascertained. This +theory makes the savings of past labor to be the source from which wages +are paid. Prof. Walker argues that "wages are, in a philosophical view +of the subject, paid out of the product of present industry, and hence +that production furnishes the true measure of wages." Labor is an +article which the employer buys because it forms a necessary part of a +certain product which he intends to sell. The price which he expects to +obtain for the product controls the amount he can afford to pay for the +labor. It is true that the money paid must necessarily come from past +savings unless the laborers wait for their pay, as they formerly did in +this country. But in making this payment capital merely <i>advances</i> the +money, and its possessor receives interest for its use; the amount of +this interest being another element that is controlled by the price +which the manufacturer expects to obtain for the product. Prof. Walker +thinks it not surprising that the erroneous wage-fund theory found +acceptance in England, where the facts on which it is based were first +observed. But he marvels that American thinkers can accept it, for the +condition of some classes of laborers here was, so late as half a +century ago, a decided disproof of it. Farm hands, for instance, were +formerly often paid at the end of the year, for the reason that there +was not capital enough in farmers' hands to make the advances necessary +for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> weekly or monthly payments. Here was a case in which the employer +clearly had to wait for the product before he could pay the wages. No +past savings were available for the purpose. The author's arguments are +always clearly put and forcible, but his position loses strength by the +very character of his task. He has so completely separated the wages +question from all others, that we miss the natural collocation of wages +with the other items which make up the cost of a product. The capitalist +has one and the same purpose in buying raw material and labor, and no +discussion of the subject can seem complete that does not proceed from +the likeness or unlikeness of these two components of value. Another +theory which our author combats strongly is that the interest of the +employer is sufficient to keep wages up to the highest profitable point. +He holds that the laborer must be active in his own interests, or he +will never obtain that rate of payment which is necessary to his proper +maintenance. Bad food reduces the quantity and quality of the laborer's +work, so that more men have to be hired for a given task, and the +employer pays more in the end for his product, than when wages are good; +but even this prospective loss is not sufficient to keep employers from +experimenting to find just that point to which wages may be lowered +without affecting food disastrously. This disposition of the employer +can be combatted only by the resistance of the laborer. Prof. Walker +thinks there is a "constantly imminent danger that bodies of laborers +will not soon enough or amply enough resent industrial injuries which +may be wrought by the concerted action of employers or by slow and +gradual changes in production, or by catastrophes in business, such as +commercial panics." Of course he does not advocate strikes, which "are +the insurrections of labor," but even these are to be judged by their +results. The results may or may not justify them. He considers that +coöperation is a real panacea that can successfully take the place of +violent measures. He denies the assertion that coöperation gets rid of +the capitalist. It merely avoids the business man, who in the present +order of things borrows the capital, hires the laborers, and directs the +business. Practically he is a salaried man. Prof. Walker finds +difficulty in giving this man a title suitable for use in treatises on +political economy. He objects to "undertaker" and "adventurer," because +they have other meanings, and suggests the French <i>entrepreneur</i>. The +objections are well taken, but the middleman is not only a reality; he +also has a name by which he is known in business. If Prof. Walker wants +to have a cellar dug or rock blasted, he can go to Pennsylvania and find +a "venturer" to undertake the work; and there seems to be no good reason +why a term that is already in common use and well understood should be +rejected by the schoolmen. This is a valuable contribution to political +economy, so valuable, in fact, that we can only <i>say</i> that it should be +read, not demonstrate the fact in a short notice.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Elsie's Motherhood"<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> is a story in which piety of the Sunday-school +kind is curiously contrasted with villany in the shape of Ku Klux +outrages. Elsie's children are all sweetness, obedience, and kisses, and +live in an atmosphere of goodness that is revolting because it is +monstrous. There is a suspicion of political purpose associated with the +appearance of the book just at this time which does not improve it.</p> + +<p>—The author of "Near to Nature's Heart"<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> shows abundant powers of +invention, but his imagination is not sufficiently well regulated for +the production of a natural or even plausible story. The individual who +is so intimate with nature is a young girl whose father has fled from +England and hidden himself in the forests of the Hudson river on account +of a quarrel with his brother, which he (erroneously) supposes to have +been a fatal one. His seclusion is so complete that his daughter grows +up almost without the sight of man or womankind except the three who are +in her father's hut, and the consequence is a partial reversion to the +wild state from which we are nowadays supposed to have been somewhat +removed by the process of evolution. The author dresses the nymph in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> a +style that ingeniously indicates the character he desires to paint. "Her +attire was as simple as it was strange, consisting of an embroidered +tunic of finely dressed fawn skin, reaching a little below the knee, and +ending in a blue fringe. Some lighter fabric was worn under it, and +encased the arms. The shapely neck and throat were bare, though almost +hidden by a wealth of wavy golden tresses that flowed down her +shoulders. Her hat appeared to have been constructed out of the skin of +the snowy heron, with its beak and plumage preserved intact, and dressed +into the jauntiest style. Leggings of strong buckskin, that formed a +protection against the briers and roughness of the forest, were clasped +around a slender ankle, and embroidered moccasins completed an attire +that was not in the style of the girl of the period, even a century +ago." This nymph was fishing, and for a float used the bud of a water +lily! This is quite characteristic of the author's idea throughout. In +losing civilization this girl put on all the supposed graces and none of +the known brutishness of the wild state. The result is an incongruous +character, but it is quite in harmony with the general notion that the +natural state is one of greater perfection than that we really dwell in. +As for the story, it relates to Revolutionary times, introduces +Washington and the Continental army, with battles, dangers, and other +lively and thrilling situations. In plot it is crude and rough. The +author makes the artistic mistake of introducing religion as a principal +element of his tale, though it does not relate to a time or to persons +characteristically religious. The variety of incident, the presence of +historical characters, including Washington and "Captain" Molly, and a +certain <i>quantum</i> of real skill in the author, will no doubt make this +book acceptable to the uncritical, but it does not deserve the attention +of others. We notice that the publishers announce the "fourteenth +thousand," which is the best indication of the book's popularity.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The ranks of the rhymers of the day are thronged with women, among the +better of whom is the author of "Edelweiss,"<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> who has gathered her +occasional verses into a pretty volume under the title of that graceful +and tender little poem. Her title-page bears no publisher's name and her +dedication to friends, whose loving kindness has welcomed them one by +one, and at whose request they have been gathered together, seems to +imply that they are privately printed. If this is because no publisher +would undertake the production of the volume, we do not wonder; not +because of the inferiority of the poems, for they are much better than +many that do find publishers. They belong to a large class in which the +world cannot be brought to take any great interest—verses expressive of +various emotions, love, devotion, resignation, and so forth, which are +all uttered with fervor or with tenderness, verses graceful in style, +and in good rhythm, and which yet produce no great impression; while on +the other hand they are much above that sentimental or that sententious +twaddle which sometimes finds many admirers. It is sad to see so much of +this sort of verse published; for it is the occasion and the sign of +woful disappointment to persons of unusual intelligence and true poetic +feeling, who, however, have not in any great measure the poetic faculty.</p> + +<p>—"Frithiof's Saga" has been often translated into English, and we have +here the result of one more effort to give us the great Swedish poem in +our own language.<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> The principal difference between this translation +and its predecessors is that this preserves the changing metres of the +original. It was undertaken chiefly because it seems the Swedes have not +been satisfied with the previous translations because they did not +follow the metre of the original. The reason is not a good one, and the +result of the attempt to conform to it is not very happy. There is no +question of pleasing the Swedes with a translation into English. It is +English ears that are to be consulted by what is written in English, +whether original or not. The Swedes have the original; that is for them; +the English version is for us. The effect of the many<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> and great changes +in the rhythm and in the form of the verse is not pleasant to our taste; +and indeed we are inclined to think that the best translation of this or +of any other "Saga" would be into rhythmic prose, which embodied the +spirit, but did not simulate the form of the original.</p> + +<p>—It is very unfortunate for what is often called American literature, +that almost all attempts to treat any part of our history poetically or +dramatically are miserable failures. Among the verse books before us two +are of this kind; one by Mr. George L. Raymond,<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> who has written in +what he supposes is the ballad form some things which are not at all +ballad-like, and which are dreary stuff under whatever name; and the +other a thing which Mr. Martin F. Tupper<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> seems to suppose is a drama +in blank verse upon the events of our war of independence. A more stupid +and ridiculous performance we have rarely seen. That it should be read +through by any one seems to us quite insupposable. And yet, although he +has written this and "Proverbial Philosophy," Mr. Tupper is a D. C. L. +of Oxford and an F. R. S.</p> + +<p>—Something of a far higher quality than this is Mr. Bayard Taylor's +"National Ode" written for the Centennial celebration. It is to be +regretted, we think, that Mr. Taylor was not able to give himself up +entirely to poetical composition. He has the poetic faculty, and his +verse is nervous and manly, far better, we think, than his prose. Had he +been a poet only, he might have taken a still higher place in +contemporary literature. This poem, well known to the public, is one of +his finest and most spirited efforts. The present edition<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> is very +handsomely illustrated and printed.</p> + +<p>—Charles Sprague is an "American" poet of the last generation, who is +almost forgotten, and indeed quite unknown to readers of the present +day. He has something of Campbell in his style—Campbell in his calm and +serious moods. It may have been desirable to reprint his poems and +essays in an attractive volume,<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> with his portrait; but we fear that +he belongs to the class of middling writers of prose and verse who were +much talked of by our fathers chiefly because they were "American."</p> + +<p>—One of the best of the many volumes of verse upon our table is the +collection of poems by Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt.<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> Mrs. Piatt's muse is +often thoughtful, but in all that she has given us, of which much is +attractive in form and suggestive in substance, these lines that follow +are the most valuable. They refer to the altar which Paul found at +Athens "To the Unknown God":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Because my life was hollow with a pain<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As old as death: because my eyes were dry<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As the fierce tropics after months of rain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Because my restless voice said, "Why?" and "Why?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wounded and worn, I knelt within the night<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As blind as darkness—Praying? And to Whom?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When yond' <i>cold crescent cut my folded sight</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And showed a phantom Altar in my room.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">It was the Altar Paul at Athens saw.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Greek bowed there, but not the Greek alone!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ghosts of nations gathered, wan with awe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And laid their offerings on that shadowy stone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Egyptian worshipped there the crocodile;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There they of Nineveh the bull with wings;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Persian there with swart, sun-lifted smile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Felt in his soul the writhing fire's bright stings.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There the weird Druid held his mistletoe;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">There, for the scorched son of the sand, coiled bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The torrid snake was hissing sharp and low;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And there the Western savage paid his rite.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Allah," the Moslem darkly muttered there;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Brahma," the jewelled Indies of the East<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sighed through their spices with a languid prayer;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Christ?" faintly questioned many a paler priest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And still the Athenian Altar's glimmering Doubt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On all religions—evermore the same.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What tears shall wash its sad inscription out?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What hand shall write thereon His other name?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last five lines of Mrs. Piatt's poem express finely the feeling as +to God and religion which now fills countless numbers of the truest +hearts and brightest minds.</p> + +<p>—"As You Like It" has just been published in the "Clarendon Press +Series of Shakespeare's Select Plays." Mr. Grant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> White, in his article +"On Reading Shakespeare," in the present number of "The Galaxy," has +said so much in regard to this series and its present editor,<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> +William Aldis Wright, that it is only necessary for us to record here +the appearance of this edition of Shakespeare's most charming comedy, +and to say that Shakespeare's lovers and students will find in it some +new views which are interesting, and appear to be sound, and a copious +and careful body of annotation.</p> + +<p>—Of poetry, or rather of verse, as we before remarked, our table is +full this month, and with it we have a dictionary to teach us to rhyme +withal.<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> "Walker's Rhyming Dictionary" has had complete possession of +this field for three quarters of a century, and we are not sure that it +will be supplanted by Mr. Barnum's. His new plan is very systematic. He +classifies his words in groups—single rhymes, double rhymes, triple, +quadruple, and even quintuple rhymes; and then he divides and subdivides +and parcels off his words under separate headings. He does not give +definitions. The book will be valuable to the student of the English +language, more so, we are inclined to think, than to the mere +rhyme-hunter, who will prefer to run his finger and his eye down a +column of words arranged merely according to their final letters.</p> + +<p>—Mr. Tennyson's new dramatic poem is before us in the elegant Boston +typography of Ticknor & Field's worthy successors.<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a> The poet laureate +added little to his fame by his previous dramatic work, "Queen Mary"; he +will gain less by this. It is good of course to a certain degree, but +it is only "fair to middling" Tennysonian work. We find in it not a +passage that stirs us, not one that charms. It puts the story of the +Norman Conquest of England into a dramatic form and into good blank +verse, with sound and sensible treatment of the subject, and that is +all. Its author's good taste, and above all his experience, his +dexterity, acquired by such long practice, are manifest on every page; +but there is little more. He dedicates it to the present Lord Lytton, in +evident desire to wipe out the memory of the old feud between him and +Bulwer Lytton; but that was too black and too bitter to be sponged away +with a little sugar and water.</p> + +<p>—Mr. Latham Cornell Strong is modest in his preface about his +collection of verse,<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> although he is rather too elaborately +metaphorical in his way of blushing properly. He says, as to the flaws +in his poems, that he "has a reasonable confidence that they will not +all be discovered by any one reader." This may be true from the probable +fact that no one reader will read them all; we think that we have met +with enough of them to show that Mr. Strong might well have refrained +himself from publication. For example, we think that a true poet could +hardly have written many such passages as these, and there are many such +in the volume:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The night is rising from the trees,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her <i>hands</i>, uplifted, <i>trail</i> with stars<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The moon hath flung <i>its banners</i> on the sward<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Rupert named, <i>alone of all the rest</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">She most esteemed, for he had brought her flowers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To wreathe her tresses and make manifest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His sympathy for her, <i>in many ways expressed</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The last four lines unite incorrectness, tameness, and inelegance with +remarkable and fatal facility.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> "<i>The Theistic Conception of the World.</i> An Essay in +Opposition to Certain Tendencies of Modern Thought." By <span class="smcap">B. F. Cocker, +D.D., LL.D.</span> New York: Harper & Brothers.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> "<i>Religion and the State</i>; or, The Bible and the Public +Schools." By <span class="smcap">Samuel T. Spear, D.D.</span> 12mo, pp. 393. New York: Dodd, Mead & +Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> "<i>A Complete Life of General George A. Custer</i>," etc. By +<span class="smcap">F. Whittaker</span>, Brevet Captain Sixth N. Y. V. Cavalry. New York: Sheldon & +Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> "<i>The Lord's Land</i>: A Narrative of Travels in Sinai, +Arabia, Petræa, and Palestine, from the Red Sea to the Entering in of +Hamath." By <span class="smcap">Henry B. Ridgaway, D.D.</span> New York: Nelson & Phillips.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> "<i>New Mexico and the New Mexicans</i>: A Political Problem." +By an Officer of the Army.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> "<i>Through and Through the Tropics.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Frank Vincent</span>, Jr. +New York: Harper & Brothers. 1876.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> "<i>Archivos do Musen Nacional do Rio de Janeiro.</i>" Imprensa +Industrial.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> "<i>The Wages Question.</i> A Treatise on Wages and the Wages +Class." By <span class="smcap">Francis A. Walker</span>. New York: Henry Holt & Co. $3.50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> "<i>Elsie's Motherhood.</i>" A Sequel to "Elsie's Womanhood." +By <span class="smcap">Martha Finley (Farquharson)</span>. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> "<i>Near to Nature's Heart.</i>" By Rev. <span class="smcap">E. P. Roe</span>. New York: +Dodd, Mead & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> "<i>Edelweiss</i>: An Alpine Rhyme." By <span class="smcap">Mary Lowe Dickinson.</span> +New York, 1876.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> "<i>Frithiof's Saga.</i> A Norse Romance." By <span class="smcap">Esais Fegner</span>, +Bishop of Wexio. Translated from the Swedish by Thomas A. Holcombe and +Martha and Lyon Holcombe. 16mo, pp. 213. Chicago: S. C. Griggs & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> "<i>Colony Ballads</i>, etc., etc., etc., etc." By <span class="smcap">George L. +Raymond</span>. 16mo, pp. 95. New York: Hurd & Houghton.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> "<i>Washington</i>: A Drama in Five Acts." By <span class="smcap">Martin F. Tupper</span>. +16mo, pp. 67. New York: James Miller.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> "<i>The National Ode.</i> The Memorial Freedom Poem." By <span class="smcap">Bayard +Taylor</span>. Illustrated. 8vo, pp. 74. Boston: William E. Gill & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> "<i>The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague.</i>" +16mo, pp. 207. Boston: A. Williams & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> "<i>That New World, and Other Poems.</i>" By Mrs. <span class="smcap">S. M. B. +Piatt</span>. 16mo, pp. 130. Boston: James R. Osgood & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> "<i>Shakespeare.</i>" Select Plays. "As You Like It." Edited by +<span class="smcap">William Aldis Wright, M.A.</span>, Bursar of Trinity College, Cambridge. 16mo, +pp. 168. Oxford: at the Clarendon Press.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> "<i>A Vocabulary of English Rhymes.</i>" Arranged on a new +plan. By the Rev. <span class="smcap">Samuel W. Barnum</span>. 18mo, pp. 767. New York: D. Appleton +& Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> "<i>Harold</i>: A Drama." By <span class="smcap">Alfred Tennyson</span>. 16mo, pp. 170. +Boston: James B. Osgood & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> "<i>Castle Windows.</i>" By <span class="smcap">Latham Cornell Strong</span>. 16mo, pp. +229. Troy: H. B. Nims & Co.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="NEBULAE" id="NEBULAE"></a>NEBULÆ.</h2> + + +<p>—The evolutionists manifestly feel that they are put upon their defence +in the matter of religion. As far as they themselves are concerned, they +are at peace with their own consciences; but nevertheless they do not +sit easily under the charge of atheism which is very generally brought +against them by that part of the world to which science does not stand +in place of religion. They are now making desperate efforts to show that +they have a religion, and Mr. M. J. Savage has written a very clever +book upon the subject, entitled "The Religion of Evolution." Mr. Savage +is a very pronounced evolutionist; he sticks at nothing in the most +extravagant form of the new theory, and the attitude which he would take +toward religion is clearly shown in the title of his previous volume on +a kindred subject, "Christianity the Science of Manhood." It is safe to +say that although Mr. Savage and others like him may call themselves +Christians and believe themselves to be so, and may live lives worthy of +the name, no man who twenty-five years ago was a professed believer in +the Christian religion, and comparatively very few of those who are so +now, would accept the term <i>science</i> as applicable to Christianity or to +religion at all. For science means knowledge, knowledge of facts, and +cautious logical deductions from those facts; whereas the very essence +of religion is a faith which holds itself above knowledge and reason, a +faith which is not only the substance of things hoped for, but the +evidence of things not seen. And this great definition, one of the +greatest ever given, applies not particularly to the faith of the +Christian religion, but to all faiths—Judaism, Mohammedanism, Buddhism, +and the rest. The true religionist will sooner accept one of these as a +religion than a religion of evolution, or than he will consent to accept +Christianity as a science of anything—of manhood, or even of God-hood.</p> + +<p>—It is with this view of religion, this feeling about it, that the +evolutionists have to deal when they endeavor to free themselves from +the charge of irreligion. This is a state of the case which some of them +do not seem to appreciate at its full importance. They shirk it, or at +least they slight it; but Mr. Savage, it must be admitted, meets it +fairly and boldly. He takes the position that such a view of religion is +unworthy of a reasonable creature, and he brushes it aside with little +ceremony and with some dexterity. But his chief difficulty is with the +conception which lies at the foundation of all religions—the idea of +god. Granted a god, or gods, and religion follows as a matter of course; +and conversely, no god, no religion. Therefore the evolutionists, those +of them who feel, or who see the necessity of a religion, of whom Mr. +Savage may be taken as a fair representative, go about to provide +themselves and the rest of the universe with a god, and they do it in +this fashion. It is shown to the satisfaction of the evolutionists, and +also of very many who have no respect for their theory, that the Mosaic +cosmogony—that is, the account in Genesis of the creation of the earth +and its inhabitants, and all the visible universe—has never been +proved, and is incapable of proof, and that it holds its place in +popular belief solely because of its supposed connection with +Christianity; that it is merely a tradition (from however high and +venerable a source), and that it rests upon no knowledge or study of the +facts which it professes to explain; that it is in no way connected with +Christianity, which would stand on its own merits equally whether the +world were six thousand or six million years old, and whether it and its +inhabitants were made in six days or six æons; that it—the Mosaic +account of the origin of the world—explains nothing, but simply tells +dogmatically that God made all and that God did so and so; that no +intelligent person would think of resting satisfied with the Mosaic +account, had it not come to be regarded as a requirement of religion to +do so, but that this has become so fixed that the whole orthodox<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> system +is the natural and logical outgrowth of the Mosaic account of the +beginning of things: "the prevailing belief about God, the nature and +the fall of man, total depravity, the need and the schemes for +supernatural redemption, the whole structure, creed, and ritual of the +Church, the common belief about the nature and efficacy of prayer +meetings, the whole system of popular revivals, limited salvation, and +everlasting punishment"—all and each being built on the foundation of +the Mosaic cosmogony. Therefore for the vast number of intelligent +thoughtful people to whom the Mosaic account of the creation is no +longer authoritative, although it may be mythically instructive, the +foundation of their religion is gone. It is then assumed that religion +must rest upon a veneration for the creative power or agent to which the +present <i>cosmos</i> owes its existence, and that as the traditional God or +Creator of Genesis has been eliminated from cognition by science, his +place in religion must be taken by the power by which he is supplanted. +Hence we have the god of evolution and the religion of evolution.</p> + +<p>—But what is this god of evolution? In a very remarkable series of +papers which have appeared for some months past in "Macmillan's +Magazine," upon Natural Religion, remarkable equally for the subtlety +and closeness of their thought and their clearness of style, something +called Nature is set up as God; Mr. Savage's god, as nearly as we can +make out, is the law of evolution—the formative power by which the +universe passed from a mass of fluid fire, revolving in space, into +suns, and suns and planets, and their inhabitants. In either case it +amounts to about the same thing. What is nature? We may be sure the word +is not used in the sense which it has when we say that a man admires +nature, loves nature, or observes nature, nor in that which it has when +we speak of the nature of things or the nature in a work of the +imagination, or the nature of man, or "the nature of the beast." What is +it then? We are very sure that the "Macmillan" writer, with all his +delicacy of thought and command of expression, could not say exactly +what he means when he speaks of this Nature which is so worthy of +reverence and of love. For this reason, and for no other, we may be +sure, he has left the word undefined. This is important; for, as Mr. +Savage says in his eleventh chapter, when he proposes the question +whether evolution and Christianity are antagonistic, so that one +necessarily excludes the other—"that depends upon definitions."</p> + +<p>—The truth is that this whole question is one greatly of definitions. +What do you mean by God? what by Nature? what by religion? We are +inclined to think that if the two parties on one side and the other of +the great question of the day were to have a preliminary settlement of +definitions, it would become plain that there could be no discussion, +certainly no profitable discussion, between them—no more than there +could be a fight between a deep-sea fish and a chamois. They would find +that there was no ground on which they could meet, no point on which +they could come in contact! To one God is, and must be, a person, an +individual, who, however spiritual, eternal, omniscient, and +omnipresent, is yet as much a person as a man having a will, with +purposes, affections, feelings, sentiments, as indeed every spiritual +being must have—a being who can be feared, revered, admired, loved. +Religion to these men is worship of this person, obedience to his will +because it is his, faith in him, love of him. The god of the +evolutionists, on the other hand, is, if Nature, a mere manifestation or +result; if a law, a mere mode or rule of action. As to the religion of +evolution, we cannot, with all Mr. Savage's help, and that of the +"Macmillan" writer (who, we are sure, must be a man of mark, or at least +one who will become so), discover what it is, except a conformity to +what may be called the law of nature; but that is something of which a +healthy beast or a drop of water is quite as capable as a man is; and +such conformity implies feeling quite as much in one of these cases as +in the other. It implies feeling in no case; and religion without +feeling, sentiment, and faith is no religion at all in the sense which +the word has had from the beginning of its use to this day. The +religious man finds in <i>his</i> God a being whom he can love and lean upon, +who has a right to his obedience, to whom he can be loyal, whom he can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +address, calling him Father, as we are told that Christ did. But you +cannot love a law. True, David says, "O how I love thy law"; but the law +that he loved was the will of the Supreme Being, and he loved it because +it was His. It was not a mode of action or of evolution that he loved. +Nor can you obey such a law, although you may conform to it; nor can you +be loyal to it, for you cannot be loyal to an abstraction. As to +fatherhood, this law-god of evolution is the father of nothing except as +two and two are the father and mother of four. Therefore, while we +regard such books as Mr. Savage's as interesting expositions of the +condition as to super-scientific subjects into which modern science has +brought many of its votaries, we cannot see that they do anything toward +refuting the charge brought against science (as it is among the +evolutionists), that it is at war with religion, and takes away all the +grounds of religious faith. For that which the evolutionists set up as a +god religious people regard as the mere creature of the true God; and +what they set up as religion the others regard utterly lacking in all +the essentials of religion. It would be much better for the +evolutionists to face this whole question boldly, as Mr. Savage does in +part, and to say that the result of their investigations is the belief +that there is no God, and consequently that there need not be, and in +fact cannot be, any religion in the sense in which that word has for +centuries been used. Moreover, we cannot see the grounds of one pretence +which is made by the evolutionists, and which is implied if not in terms +set up in all their writings that are not purely scientific and have +what may be called a moral character, such as the book before us. This +is that their theory accounts for everything, and is more consistent +with reason than that of those who accept with faith the book of +Genesis. The evolution theory is, in the words of Mr. Savage, "that the +whole universe, suns, planets, moons, our earth, and every form of life +upon it, vegetable and animal, up to man, together with all our +civilization, has developed from a primitive fire-mist or nebula that +once filled all the space now occupied by the worlds; and that this +development has been according to laws and methods and forces still +active and working about us to-day." But if it be granted, or even +proved, that this is true, we cannot see how it satisfies the reason +when we come to the question of creation and a creator. For what a +stupendous, unutterably stupendous, and almost inconceivable thing was +that fire-mist that filled all space and had in it not only the germs +and possibilities of suns and moons and planets and our earth, but of +man and <i>all his civilization</i>; and those laws and methods and forces +according to which the universe and man and his civilization have been +evolved from a fire-mist—what inconceivable things they are! Now who +made the fire-mist and the law of evolution? We cannot see that reason +is satisfied by the substitution of a fire-mist and a law of evolution +for the will of a creator and a specific creation of the suns and stars +and planets, including the earth, and man, and his possibilities of +civilization. The thing is as broad one way as it is long the other. As +far as the fact of creation goes, in either case the belief must be a +matter of faith, not of reason. With regard to the anthropomorphism of +the Hebrew story, that is shared, and must be shared, by all +religions—that is, all religious which rest upon the notion of a +personal God. The limitations of man's nature, the limitations of +language, make anthropomorphic metaphor necessary when a man speaks of a +god. Even the evolutionists cannot get rid of the necessity of faith.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>—Dr. Richardson's papers published in "Nature," and designed to prove +the advantage, and in fact the real necessity of experimenting on +animals in order to be ready to save human life, contain many +interesting facts and deserve to be widely read in view of the current +discussion as to the propriety of permitting the practice of +vivisection. The following case affords conclusive proof of the learned +and humane physiologist's argument. He says: "Dr. Weir Mitchell of +Philadelphia, in the year 1869, made the original and remarkable +observation that if a part of the body of a frog be immersed in simple +syrup, there soon occurs in the crystalline lens of the eyeball an +opaque appearance resembling the disease called cataract. He extended +his observations to the effects of grape<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> sugar, and obtained the same +results. He found that he could induce the cataractic condition +invariably by this experiment, or by injecting a solution of sugar with +a fine needle, subcutaneously, into the dorsal sac of the frog. The +discovery was one of singular importance in the history of medical +science, and explained immediately a number of obscure phenomena. The +co-existence of the two diseases, diabetes and cataract, in man had been +observed by France, Cohen, Hasner, Mackenzie, Duncan, Von Graafe, and +others, and Von Graafe had stated that after examining a large number of +diabetic patients in different hospitals, he had found one-fourth +affected with cataract. Before Mitchell's observation there was not a +suspicion as to the reason of this connection, and a flood of light, +therefore, broke on the subject the moment he proclaimed the new +physiological fact. Still more, Mitchell showed that the cataract he was +able to induce by experiment was curable also by experiment, a truth +which will one day lead to the cure of cataract without operation. Then, +but not till then, the splendid character of this original +investigation, and the debt that is due to one of the most original, +honest, laborious workers that ever in any age cultivated the science +and art of medicine, will be duly recognized." Upon receiving +intelligence of this discovery, Dr. Richardson undertook experiments to +discover the cause of this dependence of cataract upon diabetes. He +found that whenever the specific gravity of the blood was raised to ten +degrees above the normal standard, and remained so for a short time, +cataract followed. He also found that the disease so produced could be +cured by removing the salts which had been introduced into the blood. +This certainly points to a cure for cataract which shall be really +radical, and adds another to the results which justify, even upon +humanitarian grounds, physiological experiments, at the expense of the +animal creation, within prescribed limits.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>—Mr. Sorby has lately made some calculations of the probable size of +the invisible atoms which compose material substances. Dr. Royston +Pigott determined that the smallest visual angle which we can well +appreciate is that covering a hole of 11.4 inches diameter at a distance +of 1,100 yards. This corresponds to about six seconds of an arc. In a +microscope magnifying 1,000 diameters this would make visible a particle +one-three-millionth part of an inch thick. But Mr. Sorby is inclined to +think that a size between 1/80,000 and 1/100,000 of an inch is about the +limit of the visibility of minute objects, even with the best +microscopes. Now, taking the mean of the calculations made by Stoney, +Thomson, and Clerk-Maxwell, we have 21,770 as the number of atoms of any +permanent gas required to cover one-thousandth of an inch, when lying +end to end. By a series of calculations which produce numbers entirely +beyond human conception, (10,317,000,000,000 atoms in 1/100,000,000 of a +cubic inch, for instance) he reached the conclusion that there are in +the length of 1/80,000 of an inch (the smallest visible object) about +2,000 molecules of water, or 520 of albumen, and therefore, in order to +see the ultimate constitution of organic bodies, it would be necessary +to use a magnifying power from 500 to 2,000 times greater than those we +now possess. With this result settled, he was able to make one of those +radical predictions which are so rarely possible to the careful +scientist; namely, that the atom will never be seen by man. It is not +that instruments cannot be made powerful enough (though that is no doubt +true), but that the waves of light are too coarse to distinguish the +limits of such an extremely small distance. To see atoms we should need +light waves only one-two-thousandth of their actual length. At present +we are as far from that attainment as we are from reading a newspaper, +with the naked eye, at the distance of one-third of a mile.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, +February, 1877, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + +***** This file should be named 31085-h.htm or 31085-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/0/8/31085/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://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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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 Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, February, 1877 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 26, 2010 [EBook #31085] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + +THE GALAXY. + +VOL. XXIII.--FEBRUARY, 1877.--No. 2. + + +Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by SHELDON & +CO., in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + +ADMINISTRATION OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN. + + +The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress, from its commencement +to its close, tested the strength of the Government and the capability +of those who administered it. Disappointment, in consequence of no +decisive military success during the first few months of the war, had +caused a generally depressed feeling which begot discontent and distrust +that in various ways found expression in Congress. Democrats complained +more of the incapacity of the Executive than of the inefficiency of the +generals, and the entire Administration was censured and denounced by +them for acts which, if not strictly legal and constitutional in peace, +were necessary and unavoidable in war. Republicans, on the other hand, +were dissatisfied because so little was accomplished, and the factious +imputed military delay to mismanagement and want of energy in the +Administration. Indeed, but for some redeeming naval successes at +Hatteras and Port Royal preceding the meeting of Congress in December, +the whole belligerent operations would have been pronounced weak and +imbecile failures. Conflicting views in regard to the slavery question +in all its aspects prevailed; the Democrats insisting that fugitives +should be returned to their masters under the provisions of law, as in +time of peace. The Republicans were divided on this question, one +portion agreeing with the Democrats that all should be returned, +another claiming that only escaped slaves who belonged to loyal owners, +wherever they resided, should be returned; another portion insisted that +there should be no rendition of servants of rebel masters, even in loyal +or border States, who, by resisting the laws and setting the authorities +at defiance, had forfeited their rights and all Governmental protection. +Questions in regard to the treatment of captured rebels, and the +confiscation of all property of rebels, were agitated. What was the +actual condition of the seceding States, and what would be their status +when the rebellion should be suppressed, were also beginning to be +controverted points, especially among members of Congress. On these and +other questions which the insurrection raised, novel, perplexing, and +without law or precedent to guide or govern it, the Administration had +developed no well defined policy when Congress convened in December, +1861, but it was compelled to act, and that in such a manner as not to +alienate friends or give unnecessary offence, while maintaining the +Government in all its Federal authority and rights for the preservation +of the Union and the suppression of the rebellion. + +The character and duration of the war, which many had supposed would be +brief, was still undetermined. While affairs were in this uncertain and +inchoate condition, and the Administration had no declared policy on +some of the most important questions, Congress came together fired with +indignation and revenge for a war so causeless and unprovoked. A large +portion of the members, exasperated toward the rebels by reason of the +war, and dissatisfied with delays and procrastination, which they +imputed chiefly to the Administration, were determined there should be +prompt and aggressive action against the persons, property, +institutions, and the States which had confederated to break up the +Union. There was, however, little unity among the complaining members as +to the mode and method of prosecuting the war. It was not difficult to +find fault with the Administration, but it was not easy for the +discontented to settle on any satisfactory plan of continuing it. The +Democrats complained that the President transcended his rightful +authority; the radical portion of the Republicans that he was not +sufficiently aggressive; that he was deficient in energy and too tender +of the rebels. It was at this period, after Congress had been in session +two months, and opinions were earnest but diverse and factious, with a +progeny of crude and mischievous schemes as to the conduct of affairs +and the treatment of the rebels, that Senator Sumner, in the absence of +a clearly defined policy on the part of the Administration, and while +things were not sufficiently matured to adopt one, submitted his project +for overthrowing the State governments and reducing them to a +territorial condition, and with the subversion of their governments the +abolition of slavery. It was the enunciation of a policy that was in +conflict with the Constitution, and would change the character of the +Government, but which he intended to force upon the Administration. +Though a scheme devised by himself, it had in its main features the +countenance of many and some able supporters. + +President Lincoln had high respect for Mr. Sumner, but was excessively +annoyed with this presentation of the extreme, and, as he considered +them, unconstitutional and visionary theories of the Massachusetts +Senator, which were intended to commit the Government and shape its +course. It was precipitating upon the Administration issues on delicate +and deeply important subjects at a critical period--issues involving the +structure of the Government and the stability of our Federal system. +These questions might have to be ultimately met and disposed of, but it +was requisite that they should be met with caution and deliberate +consideration. The times and condition of the country were inauspicious +for considerate statesmanship. The matters in dispute, the consequences +and results of the war, were yet in embryo. There could be no union of +sentiment on Senator Sumner's plan, nor any other at that period, in the +free States, in Congress, or even in the Republican party. There were +half a dozen factions to be reconciled or persuaded to act together. +This plan was felt to be an element of discord, which, if it could not +be finally averted, might in that gloomy period, when the country was +threatened and divided, have been temporarily, at least, avoided. But +Senator Sumner, though scholarly and cultured, was not always judicious +or wisely discreet. The President, as he expressed himself, could not, +in the then condition of affairs, afford to have a controversy with +Sumner, but he so managed as to check violent and aggressive demands by +quietly interposing delay and non-action. + +In the mean time, while the subjects of slavery, reconstruction, and +confiscation were being vehemently discussed, he felt the necessity of +adopting, or at least proposing, some measure to satisfy public +sentiment. + +On the subject of confiscation there were differing opinions among the +Republicans themselves, in Congress, which called out earnest debate. +The Radicals, such as Thaddeus Stevens, who were in fact revolutionists +and intended that more should be accomplished by the Government than the +suppression of the rebellion and the preservation of the Union, were for +the immediate and unsparing confiscation of the property of the rebels +by act of Congress without awaiting judicial proceedings. In their view +and by their plan rebels, if not outlaws, were to be considered and +treated as foreigners, not as American citizens; the States in +insurrection were to be reduced to the condition of provinces; the +people were to be subjugated and their property taken to defray the +expenses of the war. Mr. Sumner, less crafty and calculating than +Stevens, but ardent and impulsive, was for proceeding to extreme +lengths; and, having the power, he urged that they should embrace "the +opportunity which God in his beneficence had offered" to extinguish by +arbitrary enactment slavery, and all claim to reserved sovereignty in +the States; but Judge Collamer, calm and considerate, and other milder +men were opposed to any illegal and unjustifiable enactment. + +As is too often the case in high party and revolutionary times, the +violent and intriguing were likely to be successful, until it came to be +understood that the President would feel it obligatory to place upon the +extreme and unconstitutional measures his veto. A knowledge of this and +the attending fact, that his veto would be sustained, induced Congress +to pass a joint resolution, modifying the act, expounding and declaring +its meaning, instead of enacting a new and explicit law, which the +judiciary, whose province it is, would expound and construe. + +The President, in order not to be misunderstood when informing the House +of Representatives that he had affixed his signature to the bill and +joint resolution, also transmitted a copy of the message he had prepared +to veto the act in its original shape, with his objections, in which he +said that by a fair construction of the act he considered persons "are +not punished without regular trials, in duly constituted courts, under +the forms and the substantial provisions of the law and the Constitution +applicable to their several cases." It was apprehended at that time, and +subsequent acts proved the apprehension well founded, that Congress or +its radical leaders were disposed to assume and exercise not only +legislative, but judicial and executive powers. Rebels were by Congress +to be condemned and their property confiscated and taken without trial +and conviction. Such was not the policy of the President, as was soon +well understood; and to reconcile him and those who agreed with him, a +provision was inserted that persons who should commit treason and be +"_adjudged guilty thereof_" should be punished. But to prevent +misconception from equivocal phraseology in a somewhat questionable act, +he explicitly made known that "regular trials in duly constituted +courts" were to be observed, and the rights of the executive and +judicial departments of the Government maintained. This precaution, and +the determination which he uniformly expressed to regard individual +rights, and not to impose penalty or inflict punishment for alleged +crimes, whether of treason or felony, until after trial and conviction, +was not satisfactory to the extremists, who were ready to treat rebels +as outlaws, and condemn them without judge or jury. + +The Centralists in Congress, who were arrogating executive and judicial +as well as legislative power, authorized the President, by special +provision in this law, to extend pardon and amnesty on such occasions as +he might deem expedient. This was represented as special grace and a +great concession; but as the pardoning power is explicitly conferred on +the President by the Constitution, the permission or authorization given +by the act was entirely supererogatory. Congress could neither enlarge +nor diminish the authority of the Executive in that respect; but if the +President acquiesced, and admitted the right of the legislative body to +grant, it was evident the day was not distant that the same body, when +dissatisfied with his leniency, would claim the right to restrain or +prohibit. The ulterior design in this grant to the President of +authority which he already possessed, and of which they could not +legally deprive him, President Lincoln well understood, but felt it to +be his duty and it was his policy to have as little controversy with +Congress or any of the factions in that body as was possible, and he +therefore wisely forebore contention. + +On the slavery question, the alleged cause of secession and war, there +were legal and perplexing difficulties which, in various ways, +embarrassed the Administration, and in the disturbed condition of the +country prevented, for a time, the establishment and enforcement of any +decisive policy. By the Constitution and laws, slavery and property in +slaves were recognized, and the surrender and rendition of fugitives +from service to their owners was commanded; but in a majority of the +seceding States the usurping governments and the rebel slave-owners were +in open insurrection, resisting the Federal authority, defying it and +making war upon it. Still there were many citizens in those States who +were opposed to secession, loyal to the Federal Government, and earnest +friends of the Union, who owned slaves. What policy could the +Administration adopt in regard to these two classes of citizens in the +same State? The fugitive slave law was not and could not be enforced in +States where there was organized rebellion. Should fugitive slaves be +returned to both, or either, or neither of the owners in insurrectionary +States? There were moreover five or six border States, where slavery +existed, which did not secede. The governments and a majority of the +people of those States were patriotic supporters of the Union, but there +was a large minority in each of them who were violent enemies of the +Government and of the Union. Many of them were serving in the rebel +armies. For a time there was no alternative but to return slaves to +their owners who resided in border States which had neither seceded nor +resisted the Government. The Administration was not authorized to +discriminate, for instance, between slave-owners on the eastern shore of +the Potomac in the lower counties of Maryland and those on the western +shore in Virginia. There were, however, no secessionists, through the +whole South, more malignantly hostile to the Federal Union than a large +portion of the slave-owners in the southern counties of Maryland; but +the State not having seceded, and there being no organized resistance to +the Government, masters who justified secession continued to reclaim +their slaves, while on the opposite side of the river, in Virginia, +slave-owners who claimed to be loyal or neutral, could not reclaim or +obtain a restoration of their escaped servants. The Executive was +compelled to act in each of these cases, and its policy, the dictate of +necessity in the peculiar war that existed, was denounced by each of the +disagreeing factions. Affairs were in this unsettled and broken +condition when Congress convened at its second session in December, +1861. The action of the President in these conflicting cases as they +arose, if not condemned, was not fully approved. Many, if not a +majority, in Congress were undetermined what course to take. Democrats +insisted that the laws must be obeyed in all cases, in war as in peace. +The radical portion of the Republicans began to take extreme opposite +grounds, and claim that the laws were inoperative in regard to +slavery--that slavery was at all times inconsistent with a republican +government, and should now be extinguished. Among the revolutionary +resolutions of Senator Sumner of the 11th of February were some on the +subject of slavery. Other but not dissimilar propositions, antagonistic +to slavery, found expression, increasing in intensity as the war was +prolonged. While it was evident to most persons that one of the results +of the insurrection would be, in some way or form, the emancipation of +the slaves, there was no person who seemed capable of devising a +constitutional, practical plan for its accomplishment, except by +subjugation and violence. To these the President was unwilling to +resort; yet the necessity of doing something that did not transcend the +law, was morally right, and would tend to the ultimate freedom of the +slaves was felt to be an essential and indispensable duty. Unavailing +but seductive appeals continued in the mean time to be made by the +secessionists to the people of the border slave States to unite with the +further South for the security and protection of slavery, in which they +had a common interest, and against which there was increasing hostility +through the North. It was under these circumstances, with a large and +growing portion of the North in favor of abolition--the slave States, +including the border States, opposed to the measure and for the +preservation of the institution--that the President was to prescribe a +policy on which the government in the disordered state of the country +was to be administered. + +To surmount the difficulties, without setting aside the law, or giving +just offence to any, the President, with his accustomed prudence and +regard for existing legal rights, devised a course which, if acquiesced +in by those most in interest, would, he believed, in a legal way open +the road to ultimate, if not immediate, emancipation. Instead of +assenting to the demands of the radical extremists that he should, by +arbitrary proceedings, and in disregard of law and Constitution, decree +freedom to all slaves, he preferred milder and more conciliatory +measures. The authority or right of the national Government to abolish +or interfere with an institution that was reserved and belonged +exclusively to the States, he was not prepared to act upon or admit, +though entreated and urged thereto by sincere party friends, and also by +party supporters, whose sincerity was doubtful. + +There could be no excuse or pretext for such interference but the +insurrection; and, even as a war measure, there were obstacles in the +condition of the border slave States, to say nothing of loyal, patriotic +citizens in the insurrectionary region, that could not be overlooked. + +On the 6th of March, within less than three weeks after Senator Sumner +had submitted his revolutionary resolution, for reconstruction, and a +declaration that it is the duty of Congress "to see that everywhere in +this extensive (secession) territory slavery shall cease to exist +practically, as it has already ceased to exist constitutionally or +morally," that President Lincoln, not assenting to the assumption, sent +a message to Congress proposing a plan of voluntary and compensated +emancipation. In this message he suggested that "the United States ought +to co-operate with any State which may adopt gradual abolishment of +slavery, giving to each State pecuniary aid," etc., and he invited an +interview upon the 10th of March, with the representatives of the border +States, to consider the subject. They did not conclude at this interview +to adopt his suggestions, and some of them were much incensed that the +proposition had been made, believing it would alienate and drive many, +hitherto rightly disposed, into secession. + +Nevertheless, the fact that slavery was doomed, and had received a death +blow from the war of secession, was so obvious, that the moderate and +reflecting began seriously to consider whether they ought not to give +the President's plan favorable consideration. + +While the policy of voluntary emancipation, in which the States should +be aided by the national Government, was not immediately successful, it +made such advance as, by the aid of the Federal Government, led to the +abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. The advocates of +immediate, general, and forcible emancipation, if not satisfied with the +conciliatory policy of the President, could not well oppose it. + +Warm discussions in Congress, and altercations out of it, on most of the +important questions growing out of the war, and particularly on those of +confiscation, emancipation, and reconstruction, or the restoration of +the States to their rightful position, and the reestablishment of the +Union, were had during the whole of the second session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress. All of these were exciting and important +questions, the last involving grave principles affecting our federal +system, and was most momentous in its consequences. As time and events +passed on, the convictions and conclusions of the President became more +clear and distinct as to the line of policy which it was his duty and +that of the Administration to pursue. + +Dissenting, wholly and absolutely, from the revolutionary views and +schemes of Senator Sumner and those who agreed with him, the President +became convinced, as the subject had been prematurely introduced and +agitated, with an evident intent to forestall and shape the action of +the Government, that the actual status of the rebel States and their +true relation to the Federal Government should be distinctly understood. +The resolution of Mr. Dixon, a gentleman of culture and intelligence, +who, as well as Mr. Sumner, was a New England Senator, and also of the +same party, was, it will be observed, diametrically opposed to the +principles and the project of the Massachusetts Senator on the great, +impending, and forthcoming subject of reconstruction. It was directly +known that the President coincided with the Connecticut Senator in the +opinion that all the acts and ordinances of secession were mere +nullities, and should be so treated; that while such acts might subject +_individuals_ to penalties and forfeitures, they did not in any degree +affect the _States_ as commonwealths, and their relations to the Federal +Government; that such acts were rebellious, insurrectionary, and hostile +on the part of the _persons_ engaged in them, but that the _States_, +notwithstanding the acts and conspiracies of individuals, were still +members of the Federal Union, and that the loyal citizens of these +States had forfeited none of their rights, but were entitled to all the +protection and privileges guaranteed by the Constitution. + +The theory and principles set forth in Senator Dixon's resolutions were +the opinions and convictions of the President, deliberately formed and +consistently maintained while he lived, on the subject of reconstruction +and the condition of the States and people in the insurrectionary +region. In his view there was no actual secession, no dismembering of +the Union, no change in the Constitution and Government; the relative +position of the States and the Federal Government were unchanged; the +organic, fundamental laws of neither were altered by the sectional +conspiracy; the whole people, North and South, were American citizens; +each person was responsible for his own acts and amenable to law; and he +was also entitled to the protection of the law, and the rights and +privileges secured by the Constitution. The confiscation and +emancipation schemes concerning which there was so much excitement in +Congress were of secondary consideration to the all-absorbing one of +preserving the Union. + +The second session of the Thirty-seventh Congress closed on the 17th of +July. Its proceedings had been confused and uneasy, with a good deal of +discontented and revolutionary feeling, which increased toward the +close. The decisive stand which the President had taken, and which he +calmly, firmly, and persistently maintained against the extreme measures +of some of the most prominent Republicans in Congress, was +unsatisfactory. It was insinuated that his sympathies on important +measures had more of a Democratic than Republican tendency; yet the +Democratic party maintained an organized and often unreasonable, if not +unpatriotic, opposition. + +Military operations, aside from naval success at New Orleans and on the +upper Mississippi, had been a succession of military reverses. +Disagreement between the Secretary of War and the General-in-Chief, +which the President could not reconcile, caused the latter to be +superseded after the disastrous result before Richmond. Dissensions in +the army and among the Republicans in Congress, the persistent +opposition of Democrats to the Administration, and the general +depression that prevailed were discouraging. "In my position," said the +President, "I am environed with difficulties." Friends on whom he felt +he ought to be able to rely were dissatisfied with his conscientious +scruples and lenity, and party opponents were unrelenting against the +Administration. + +A few days before Congress adjourned, the President made another but +unsuccessful effort to dispose of the slavery question, by trying to +induce the border States to take the initiative in his plan of +compensated emancipation. The interview between him and the +representatives of the border States, which took place on the 12th of +July, convinced him that the project of voluntary emancipation by the +States would not succeed. Were it commenced by one or more of the +States, he had little doubt it would be followed by others, and +eventuate in general emancipation by the States themselves. Failing in +the voluntary plan, he was compelled, as a war necessity, to proclaim +freedom to all slaves in the rebel section, if the war continued to be +prosecuted after a certain date. This bold and almost revolutionary +measure, which would change the industrial character of many States, +could be justified on no other ground than as a war measure, the result +of military necessity. It was an unexpected and startling demonstration +when announced, that was welcomed by a vast majority of the people in +the free States. In Congress, however, neither this nor his project of +compensated emancipation was entirely acceptable to either the extreme +anti-slavery or pro-slavery men. The radicals disliked the way in which +emancipation was effected by the President. But, carried forward by the +force of public opinion, they could not do otherwise than acquiesce in +the decree, complaining, however, that it was an unauthorized assumption +by the Executive of power which belonged to Congress. + +The opponents of the President seized the occasion of this bold measure +to create distrust and alarm, and the result of the policy of +emancipation in the election which followed in the autumn of 1862 was +adverse to the Administration. Confident, however, that the step was +justifiable and necessary, the President persevered and consummated it +by a final proclamation on the 1st of January, 1863. + +The fact that the Administration lost ground in the elections in +consequence of the emancipation policy served for a time to promote +unity of feeling among the members when Congress convened in December. +The shock occasioned by the measure when first announced had done its +work. The timid, who had doubted the necessity and legality of the act, +and feared its consequences, recovered their equipoise, and a reaction +followed which strengthened the President in public confidence. But the +radical extremists, especially the advocates of Congressional supremacy, +began in the course of the winter to reassert their own peculiar ideas +and their intention of having a more extreme policy pursued by the +Government. + +Thaddeus Stevens embraced an early opportunity to declare his extreme +views, which were radically and totally antagonistic to those of the +President. But Stevens, whose ability and acquirements as a politician, +and whose skill and experience as a party tactician were unsurpassed if +not unequalled in either branch of Congress, made no open, hostile +demonstration toward the President. He restricted himself to +contemptuous expressions in private conversation against the Executive +policy and general management of affairs. Without an attack on the +President, whom he personally liked, the Administration was sneered at +as weak and inefficient, of which little could be expected until a more +aggressive and scathing policy was adopted. His personal intercourse +with members and his talents and eloquence on the floor of the House +gave him influence with the representatives on ordinary occasions, but +his ultra radical and revolutionary ideas caused the calm and +considerate to distrust and disclaim his opinions and his leadership. It +was not until a later period, and under another Executive, less affable +but not less honest and sincere than Mr. Lincoln, that the suggestions +of Stevens were much regarded. When his disciples and adherents became +more partisan and numerous, they, in order to give him power and +consequence and reconcile their constituents, denominated him the "Great +Commoner." + +If his political hopes and party schemes had been sometimes successful, +his reverses and disappointments had been much greater. Many and severe +trials during an active, embittered, and often unscrupulous partisan +experience, had tempered his enthusiasm if they had not brought him +wisdom. Defeats can hardly be said to have made him misanthropic; but +having little philosophy in his composition, he vented his spleen when +there was occasion on his opponents in ironical remarks that made him +dreaded, and which were often more effective than arguments; but his +sagacity and knowledge of men taught him that a hostile and open +conflict with a chief magistrate whose honesty even he respected, and +whose patriotism the people so generally regarded, would be not only +unavailing, but to himself positively injurious. He therefore conformed +to circumstances; and while opposed to the tolerant policy of the +Administration toward the rebels and the rebel States, he had the tact +and address, with his wit and humor, to preserve pleasant social +intercourse and friendly personal relations with the President, who well +understood his traits and purpose, but avoided any conflict with him. + +For the first five or six weeks of the third session of the +Thirty-seventh Congress, Stevens improved his time in free and sarcastic +remarks on the reconstruction policy of the Government, which he +characterized as puerile and feeble, and at length, on the 8th of +January, he gave utterance to his feelings, maintaining that "with +regard to all the Southern States in rebellion, the Constitution has no +binding influence or application." He averred that "in his opinion they +were not members of the Union"; that "the ordinances of secession took +them out of the Union"; that he "would levy a tax wherever he could upon +these conquered provinces"; said he "would not only collect the tax, but +he would, as a necessary war measure, take every particle of property, +real and personal, life estate and reversion, of every disloyal man, and +sell it for the benefit of the nation in carrying on this war." + +Several members of Congress hastened to deny that these sentiments and +purposes were those of the Republican party; this Mr. Stevens admitted. +He said "a very mild denial from the pleasant gentleman from New York +[Mr. Olin], and the somewhat softened and modified repudiation of the +gentleman from Indiana" (Mr. Colfax), would, he hoped, satisfy the +sensitive gentlemen in regard to him, and he "desired to say he did not +speak the sentiments of this side of the House _as a party_."; that +"for the last fifteen years he [Stevens] had always been ahead of the +party in these matters, but he had never been so far ahead but that the +members of the party had overtaken and gone ahead; and they would again +overtake him and go with him before the infamous and bloody rebellion +was ended." "They will find that they must treat those States, now +outside of the Union, as conquered provinces, and settle them with new +men, and drive the present rebels as exiles from this country." "Nothing +but extermination, or exile, or starvation, will ever induce them to +surrender to the Government." + +Not very consistent or logical in his policy and views, this +subsequently Radical leader proposed to treat the Southern people +sometimes as foreigners and at other times as rebel citizens; in either +case he would tax, starve, and exile them--make provinces of their +States, and overturn their old established governments. Few, +comparatively, of the Republicans were at that time prepared to follow +Stevens or adopt his vindictive and arbitrary measures. Shocked at his +propositions, the "Great Commoner" had at that day few acknowledged +adherents. When in vindication of his scheme it was asked upon what +ground the collection of taxes could be enforced in the Southern States, +Judge Thomas, one of the ablest and clearest minds of the Massachusetts +delegation, said, "Upon this ground, that the authority of this +Government at this time is as valid over those States as it was before +the acts of secession were passed; upon the ground that every act of +secession passed by those States is utterly null and void; upon the +ground that every act legally null and void cannot acquire force because +armed rebellion is behind it, seeking to uphold it; upon the ground that +the Constitution makes us not a mere confederacy, but a _nation_; upon +the ground that the provisions of that Constitution strike through the +State government and reach directly, not intermediately, the subjects. +Subjects of whom? Of the nation--of the United States." "Who ever heard, +as a matter of public law, that the authority of a government over its +rebellious subjects was lost until that revolution was successful--was a +fact accomplished?" + +Shortly after the capture of New Orleans and the establishment of +Federal authority over Louisiana, two of the Congressional districts of +that State elected representatives to Congress. The admission or +non-admission of these representatives involved the question of the +political condition of the Southern States and people in the Federal +Union, and the whole principle, in fact, of restoration and +reconstruction. + +The subject was long and deliberately considered and fully discussed in +Congress. The committee on elections reported in favor of their +admission, and Mr. Dawes of Massachusetts, the chairman, stated that +"more than ordinary importance is attached to the consideration of this +subject. It is not simply whether two gentlemen shall be permitted to +occupy seats in this House. The question whether they shall be admitted +involves the principles touching the present state of the country to +which the attention of the House has more than once been called." He +said, "The question now comes up, whether any reason exists that +requires any departure from the rules and principles which have been +adopted." "An adherence to these principles is vitally important in +settling the question, how there is to be a restoration of this Union +when this war shall be drawn to a close." + +The subject of admitting these representatives and the principles of a +restoration of the Union which their admission involved, was debated +with earnestness for several days, and finally decided, on the 17th of +February, in favor of admitting them, by a vote of ninety-two in the +affirmative to forty-four in the negative. + +An analysis of this vote, in view of the proceedings, acts, and votes +of many of the same members a few years subsequently, after Mr. +Lincoln's death, presents some curious and interesting facts. It was not +a strictly party vote. Among those who then favored the Administration +policy of restoration were Colfax, Dawes, Delano, Fenton, Fisher of +Delaware, Wm, Kellogg, J. S. Morrill of Vermont, Governor A. H. Rice of +Massachusetts, Shellabarger, and others who opposed the restoration +policy of President Lincoln after his death and the accession of +President Johnson. + +In the negative with Thaddeus Stevens were Ashley, Bingham, the two +Conklings, Kelley, McPherson, and a few others. But when reconstruction +or exclusion actually took place after the termination of the war, great +changes occurred among the members of Congress, and Stevens, the "Great +Commoner," who in 1863 had a following of less than one-third of the +representatives, rallied, four years later, more than two-thirds to his +standard against restoration and for subjugation and exclusion. + +Mr. Stevens was no ordinary man. At the bar he was astute and eloquent +rather than profound, but in the Legislature of Pennsylvania and in the +management of the affairs of that State, where for a period he actively +participated and was a ruling mind, he was often rash and turbulent, and +had, not without cause, the reputation of being a not over scrupulous +politician. Personally my relations with him, though not intimate, were +pleasant and friendly. I was first introduced to him at Harrisburg in +1836, when he was a member of the convention that revised the +Constitution of Pennsylvania. We occasionally met in after years. He +expressed himself pleased with my appointment in Mr. Lincoln's Cabinet, +and, notwithstanding we disagreed on fundamental principles, he +complimented my administration of the Navy Department, and openly and +always sustained my positions, and particularly so on the subject of the +blockade, on which there were differences in the Administration. In the +Pennsylvania convention of 1836 he was probably the most eloquent +speaker, but his ideas were often visionary and radical. He ultimately +refused to sign the Constitution because the colored people were denied +the elective franchise. Severe as he exhibited himself toward the rebels +during and subsequent to the civil war, Mr. Stevens was not by nature, +as might be supposed, inhuman in his feelings and sympathies toward his +fellow men. To the colored race he seemed always more attached and +tender than to the whites, perhaps because they were enslaved and +oppressed. He was opposed to slavery, to imprisonment for debt, and to +capital punishment. There were strange contradictions in his character. +In his political career he had ardent supporters, though many who voted +with him had not a high regard for his principles. His course and +conduct in the Legislature and government of Pennsylvania did much to +debauch the political morals of that State, and in the celebrated +"buck-shot war" he displayed the bold and reckless disregard of justice +and popular rights that distinguished the latter years of his +Congressional life, when he became the acknowledged leader of the +radical reconstruction party in Congress. + +In his political career and management, though strongly sustained by a +local constituency, he had experienced a series of disappointments. The +defeat of John Quincy Adams, whom he greatly admired, in 1828, and the +election of General Jackson, against whom his prejudices were +inveterate, were to him early and grievous vexations. + +The attempt of Mr. Adams on his retirement to establish a national +anti-Masonic party was warmly seconded by Stevens, and with greater +success in Pennsylvania than attended his distinguished leader in +Massachusetts. The failure of the attempt was more severely felt by the +disciple than by the master. After the annihilation of the anti-Masonic +organization and the discomfiture of the buck-shot war, Stevens was +less conspicuous, though prominent for a few months in 1840, when he +came forward as an earnest advocate of the nomination of General +Harrison in that singular campaign which resulted in the General's +election. His efficiency and zeal in behalf of both the nomination and +election of the "hero of Tippecanoe" were acknowledged, and he and his +friends anticipated they would be recognized and he rewarded by a seat +in the Cabinet. But he had given offence to the great Whig leader of +that day by his preference of Harrison for President, and had moreover +an unsavory reputation, which, with the declared opposition of Clay and +Webster, caused his exclusion. It was a sore disappointment, from which +he never fully recovered. Eight years later, with the advent of General +Taylor and the defeated aspirations of the Whig leaders, who had caused +his exclusion from Harrison's Cabinet, he sought and obtained an +election to the thirty-first Congress from the Lancaster district. In +1856 he strove with all his power to secure the Presidential nomination +for John McLane of the Supreme Court, who had or professed to have had +anti-Masonic tendencies. His ill success was another disappointment; but +in 1859 he was again elected to Congress, and thereafter until his death +he represented the Lancaster district. + +Disappointments had made him splenetic, but he was not, as represented +by his opponents on the two extremes, either a charlatan or a miscreant, +though possibly not wholly exempt from charges against him in either +respect. In many of his ultra radical and it may be truly said +revolutionary views--revolutionary because they changed the structure of +the Government--he coincided with Senator Sumner, who was perhaps the +leading spirit in the Senate on the subject of reconstruction, but he +did not, like the Massachusetts Senator, make any pretence that his +project to subjugate the Southern people and reduce their States to the +condition of provinces was constitutional, or by authority of the +Declaration of Independence. President Lincoln well understood the +characteristics of both these men, and, though differing from each on +the subject of restoration and reconstruction, he managed to preserve +friendly personal relations with both--retained their confidence, and +while he lived secured their general support of his Administration. +Herein President Lincoln exhibited those peculiar qualities and +attributes of mind which made him a leader and manager of men, and +enabled him in a quiet and unostentatious way to exercise his executive +ability in administering the Government during the most troublesome +period of our national history. + + GIDEON WELLES. + + + + +ART'S LIMITATIONS. + + + This rich, rank Age--does it breed giants now-- + Dantes or Michaels, Raphaels, Shakespeares? Nay! + Its culture is of other sort to-day. + From the stanch stem (too ready to allow + Growths that divide the strength that should endow + The one tall trunk) who firmly lops away, + With wise reserve, such shoots as lead astray + The wasted sap to some collateral bough? + + Had Dante chiselled stone, had Angelo + Intrigued with courts, had Shakespeare dulled his pen + With critic gauge of Chaucer, Drummond, Ben-- + What lack there were of that life-giving shade, + Which these high-tower'd, centurial oaks have made, + Where walk the happy nations to and fro! + + MARGARET J. PRESTON. + + + + +APPLIED SCIENCE. + +A LOVE STORY IN TWO CHAPTERS. + + +CHAPTER II. + +CONCLUSION. + +The events of the last chapter happened on the night of Friday, July 17, +1874. The following day, Saturday, broke calm, clear, and warm. Elmer +awoke early, carefully looked out of a crack in his window curtain, and +found that the chimney-builder's room was empty. + +"The enemy has flown. I wonder if Alma is up?" + +He uncovered a small telegraphic armature and sounder standing on the +window-seat, and touched it gently. In an instant there was a response, +and Alma replied that she was up and dressed and would soon be down. + +She met him in the library, smiling, and apparently happy. + +"Oh, Elmer, he has gone away. He left a note on the breakfast table, +saying that he had gone to New York, and that he should not return till +Monday or Tuesday." + +"That's very good; but I think it means mischief." + +Just here the breakfast bell rang. The table was set for four, but Alma +and Elmer were the only ones who could answer the call, and they sat +down to the table alone. They talked of various matters of little +consequence, and when the meal was over Elmer announced that as the day +was quiet, he should make a little photographing expedition about the +neighborhood. + +"My visit here is now more than a quarter over, and I wish to take home +some photos of the place. Will you not go with me?" + +"With all my heart, if I can leave father. But please not talk of going +home yet. I hope you will not go till things are settled. We want you, +Elmer. You are so wise and strong, and--you know what I mean." + +"Perhaps I do. At any rate I'm not going till I have paid up that +Belford for his insults." + +"Oh, let's not talk of him to-day." + +This was eminently wise. They had better enjoy the day of peace that was +before them. The shadow of the coming events already darkened their +lives, though they knew it not. Mr. Denny was so much better that he +could spare Alma, and about ten o'clock she appeared, paper umbrella in +hand, at the porch, and Elmer soon joined her bearing a small camera, +and a light wooden tripod for its support. + +The two spent the morning happily in each other's company, and at one +o'clock returned to dinner with quite a number of negatives of various +objects of interest about the place. After dinner the young man +retreated to his room to prepare for the battle that he felt sure would +rage on the following Monday. + +He did not know all the circumstances of the trouble that had invaded +the family, but he felt sure that the confidential clerk intended some +terrible shame or exposure that in some way concerned his cousin Alma. +So it was he came to call himself her Lohengrin, come to fight her +battles, not with a sword, but with the telegraph, the camera, and the +micro-lantern. + +The Sabbath passed quietly, and the Monday came. After breakfast the +student retreated to his room and tried to study, but could not. + +About ten o'clock he heard a carriage of some kind stop before the +house. His room being at the rear, he could not see who had come, and +thinking that it might be merely some stray visitor, and that at least +it did not concern him, he turned to his books and made another attempt +to read. + +After some slight delay he heard the carriage drive away, and the old +house became very still. Then he heard a door open down stairs, and a +moment after one of the maids knocked at his door. + +"Would Mr. Franklin kindly come down stairs? Mr. Denny wished to see him +in the library." + +He would come at once; and picking up a number of unmounted photographs +from the table, he prepared to go down stairs. He hardly knew why he +should take the pictures just then. There seemed no special reason why +he should show them to Mr. Denny; still, an indefinite feeling urged him +to take them with him. + +The library was a small room, dark, with heavy book shelves against the +walls, and crowded with tables, desk, and easy chairs. There was a +student lamp on the centre table, and in a corner stood a large iron +safe. Mr. Denny was seated at the table with his back to the door, and +with his head supported by his hand and arm. He did not seem to notice +the arrival of his visitor, and Elmer advanced to the table and laid the +photographs upon it. + +"I am glad you have come, Mr. Franklin. I wish to talk with you. I wish +to tell you something. A great affliction has fallen upon us, and I wish +you, as our guest, to be prepared for it. I think I can trust you, Elmer +Franklin. I remember your mother, my boy. You have her features--and I +will trust you for her sake. We are ruined." + +"How, sir? How is that possible, with all your property?" + +"Not one cent of my property--not a foot of ground, or a single brick, +or piece of shafting in the mills--belongs to me." + +"This is terrible, sir. How did it happen?" + +"It is a short and sad story. I was my father's only child, and there +were no other heirs. My father's last illness was very sudden, and he +left no will. He told me when he died that he had left everything to me. +We never found any will that would bear out this assertion. However, +the ordinary process of law gave me the property, and I thought myself +secure. Suddenly a will was found, in which all the property was left to +a distant relative in New York, and I was merely mentioned with some +trifling gift. I contested the will and lost the case. It was an +undoubted will, and in my father's own handwriting, and dated more than +a year before he died and when I was rusticating from college. I thought +I must needs sow my wild oats, and day after to-morrow I pay for them +all by total beggary. The devisee, by the will, acted very strangely +about the property. He did not disturb me for a very long time. He +probably feared to do so; and then he made a mortgage of one hundred +thousand dollars on the property, took the money, and went abroad." + +"And he left you here in possession?" + +"Yes. The interest on the mortgage became due. There was no one to pay +it, and they even had the effrontery to come to me. I refused again and +again, and every time the interest was added to the mortgage till it +rolled up to an enormous amount. Meanwhile the devisee died, penniless, +in Europe, and on Wednesday Abrams, the lawyer who holds the mortgage, +is to take possession of everything--and we--we are to go--I know not +whither." + +For a few moments there was a profound silence in the room. The elder +man mourned his dreadful fate, and the son of science was ready to shout +for joy. Restraining himself with an effort, he said, not without a +tremor in his voice: + +"And have you searched for any other will?" + +"That is an idle question, my son. We have searched these years. Then, +too, just as I need a staff for my declining years, it breaks under me." + +"You refer to Mr. Belford, sir?" + +"Yes. Since I injured my foot in the mill, I have trusted all my +affairs to him, and now I sometimes think he is playing me false. Even +now, when all this trouble has come upon me, he is absent, and I have no +one to consult, nor do I find any to aid or comfort me." + +"Perhaps I can aid you, sir." + +"I do not know. I fear no one can avail us now." + +"May I be very frank with you, sir?" + +"Certainly. I am past all pride or fear. There can be nothing worse +now." + +"I think, sir, you have placed too much confidence in that man. He is +not trustworthy." + +"How do you know? Can you prove it?" + +"Yes, sir. You remember the new chimney?" + +"Yes; but he explained that, and collected all the money that had been +paid on the supposed extra height of the chimney." + +"That was very easy, sir, for he had it in his own pocket. I met some of +the work people in the village, and casually asked them how high the +chimney was to be, and every man gave the real height. Mr. Belford lied +to you about it, and pocketed the difference between his measurements +and mine. Of course, when detected he promptly restored the money, and +thought himself lucky to have escaped so easily. More than that, he +claimed that the chimney was capped with stone. It is not. It is brick +to the top, and the upper courses were rubbed over with colored +plaster." + +"I can hardly believe it. Besides, how can you prove it?" + +"That will, sir. Look at it carefully." + +So saying, Elmer selected a photograph from those on the table and +presented it to Mr. Denny. + +The old gentleman looked at it carefully for a few moments, and then +said with an air of conviction-- + +"It is a perfect fraud. I had no idea that the man was such a thief." + +"Yes, sir. Look at that bare place where the plaster has fallen off. +You can see the brick----" + +"Oh, I can see. There is no need to explain the picture. Have you any +more?" + +"Yes, sir; quite a number. I'm glad I brought them with me." + +Mr. Denny turned them over slowly, and commented briefly upon them. + +"That's the house. Very well done, my boy. That's the mill. Excellent. I +should know it at once. And--eh! what's that? The batting mill?" + +"Yes, sir. That's the new building going up beyond the millpond." + +"Great heavens! What an outrageous fraud! Mr. Belford told me it was +nearly done. He has drawn almost all the money for it already, and +according to this picture only one story is up. When was this picture +taken?" + +"On Saturday, sir. Alma was with me. She will tell you." + +Mr. Denny rang a small bell that stood at his elbow, and a maid came to +the door. + +"Will you call Miss Denny, Anna?" + +The maid retired, and in a moment or two Alma appeared. She seemed pale +and dejected, and she sat down at once as if weary. + +"What is it, father? Any new troubles?" + +"Were you with your cousin when he took this photograph?" + +She looked at it a moment, and then said wearily: + +"Yes. It's the batting mill." + +Just here the door opened, and Mr. Belford, hat and travelling bag in +hand, as if just from the station, entered the room. The two men looked +up in undisguised amazement, but Alma cast her eyes upon the floor, and +her face seemed to put on a more ashen hue than ever. + +"Ah! excuse me. I did not mean to intrude. I'm just from New York, and I +have been so successful that I hastened to lay the news before you." + +"What have you to say, Mr. Belford," said Mr. Denny coldly. "There are +none but friends here, and you need not fear to speak." + +Mr. Franklin hastily gathered up the pictures together, and rolling them +up, put them in his pocket, with the mental remark that he "knew of one +who was not a friend--no, not much." + +"I have arranged everything," said Mr. Belford, with sublime audacity. +"The note has been taken up. I have even obtained a release of the +mortgage, and here is the cancelled note and the release. To-morrow I +will have it recorded." + +"We are in no mood for pleasantry, Mr. Belford. The sheriff was here +to-day, and Abrams is to take possession on Wednesday." + +"Oh, I knew that. He did not get my telegram in time, or he would have +saved you all this unnecessary annoyance. And now everything is all +serene, and there is Abrams's release in full." + +He took out a carefully folded paper, and gave it to Mr. Denny. He read +it in silence, and then said: + +"It seems to be quite correct. We----" + +Alma suddenly dropped her head upon her breast, and slid to the floor in +a confused heap. She thought she read in that fatal receipt her death +warrant. Nature rebelled, and mercifully took away her senses. + +Elmer sprang to her rescue, but Mr. Belford intruded himself. + +"It is my place, Mr. Franklin. She is to be my wife." + + * * * * * + +The dreary day crept to its end. Alma recovered, and retired to her +room. Mr. Denny, overcome by the excitement of the interview, was quite +ill, and the visitor, oppressed with a sense of partial defeat, took a +long walk through the country. The enemy had made such an extraordinary +movement that for the time he was disconcerted, and he wished to be +alone, that he could think over the situation. About six o'clock in the +afternoon he returned looking bright and calm, as if he had thought out +his problem and had nerved himself up to do and dare all in behalf of +the woman he loved. He went quietly to his room and began his +preparations for a vigorous assault upon the enemy. + +He rolled out his micro-lantern into the middle of the room, drew up the +curtains at the window that faced Mr. Belford's chamber, and prepared to +adjust the apparatus to a new and most singular style of lantern +projections. He had hardly finished the work to his satisfaction before +he heard Alma's knock at the door. He hastily drew down the curtains, +and then invited her to come in. + +She opened the door and appeared upon the threshold, the picture of +resigned and heavy sorrow. She had evidently been weeping, and the dark +dress in which she had arrayed herself seemed to intensify the look of +anguish on her face. The son of science was disconcerted. He did not +know what to say, and, with great wisdom, he said nothing. + +She entered the room without a word, and sat wearily down on a trunk. +Elmer quickly rolled out the great easy chair so that it would face the +open western window. + +"Sit here, Miss Denny. This is far more comfortable." + +"Oh, Elmer! Have you too turned against me?" + +"Not knowingly. Sit here where there is more air, and before this view +and this beautiful sunset." + +She rose, and with a forlorn smile took the great chair, and then gazed +absently out of the window upon the charming landscape, brilliant with +the glow of the setting sun. Elmer meanwhile went on with his work, and +for a little space neither spoke. Then she said, with a faint trace of +impatience in her voice-- + +"What are you doing, Elmer?" + +"Preparing for war." + +"It is useless. It is too late." + +"Think so?" + +"Yes. Everything has been settled, and in a very satisfactory +manner--at least father is satisfied, and I suppose I ought to be." + +She smiled and held out her hand to him. + +"How can I ever thank you, cousin Elmer? You will not forget me when I +am gone." + +"Forget you, Alma! That was unkind." + +He took her hand, glanced at the diamond ring upon her finger, and +looking down upon her as she lay half reclining in the great chair, he +said, with an effort, as if the words pained him: + +"Alma, you have surrendered to him." + +She looked up with a startled expression, and said: + +"What do you mean?" + +"You have renewed your engagement with Mr. Belford?" + +"Yes--of course I have. He--he is to be my husband----" + +"On Wednesday." + +"Yes. How did you know it?" + +Instead of replying he turned to a drawer and drew forth a long ribbon +of white paper. Holding it to the light, near the window, he began to +read the words printed in dots and lines upon it. + +"Here is your own confession. Here are all the messages you sent me from +the parlor, when you broke your engagement with him----" + +"Oh, Elmer! Did you save that? Destroy it--destroy it at once. If he +should find it, he would never forgive me." + +"You need not fear. I shall not destroy it, and it shall never cause you +any trouble." + +She had risen in her excitement, and stood upon her feet. Suddenly she +flushed a rosy red, and a strange light shone in her eyes. The sun had +sunk behind the hills, and it had grown dark. As the shadows gathered in +the room a strange, mystic light fell on the wall before her. A +picture--dim, ghostly, gigantic, and surpassingly beautiful--met her +astonished eyes. She gazed at it with a beating heart, awed into +silence by its mystery and its unearthly aspect. What was it? What did +it mean? By what magic art had he conjured up this vision? She stood +with parted lips gazing at it, while her bosom rose and fell with her +rapid, excited breathing. Suddenly she threw her arms above her head, +and with a cry fell back upon the chair. + +"Oh, Elmer! My heart----" + +He had been gazing absently out of the window at the fading twilight, +and hearing her cry of pain, he turned hastily and said: + +"Alma, what is it? Are you----" + +He caught sight of the picture on the wall. He understood it at once, +and went to the stereopticon that stood at the other end of the room and +opened it. The lamp was burning brightly, and he put it out and closed +the door. Then he drew out the glass slide, held it a moment to the +light to make sure that it was Alma's portrait, and then he kissed it +passionately, and shivered it into fragments upon the hearthstone. + +She heard the breaking glass, and rose hastily and turned toward him. + +"Elmer, that was cruel. Why did you destroy it?" + +"Because it told too much." + +"It was my picture?" + +"Yes. I confess with shame that I stole it when you were asleep under +the influence of the gas I gave you. It happened to be in the lantern +when you came in." + +"And so I saw it pictured on the wall?" + +"Yes. In that way did it betray me. Forget it, Alma. Forget me. Forget +everything. Forget that I ever came here----" + +"No--never. I cannot." + +"You will be married soon and go away. I presume we may never meet +again." + +"Oh, Elmer, forgive me. I am the one to be forgiven. I am alone to blame +for all this sorrow. I thought I alone should suffer. But--but, Elmer, +you will not forget me, and you see--you must see that what I do is for +the best. It is the only way. I cannot see my father beggared." + +The clear-headed son of science seemed to be losing his self-control. +This was all so new, so exciting, so different from the calm and steady +flow of his student life, that he knew not what to say or do. He began +to turn over his books and papers in a nervous manner, as if trying to +win back control of his own tumultuous thoughts. Fortunately Alma came +to his rescue. + +"Elmer, hear me." + +"Yes," he said with an effort. "Tell me about it; then perhaps we can +understand each other better." + +"I will. Come and sit by me. It grows dark, and I--well, it is no +matter. It will do me good to speak of it." + +"Yes, do. Sorrow shared is divided by half." + +"And joy shared is doubled," she added. "But we will not talk of 'the +might have been.'" + +Then she paused and looked out on the gathering night for some minutes +in silence. Elmer sat at her feet upon a low stool, and waited till she +should speak. + +"Elmer, say that you will forgive me whatever happens. No matter how +dark it looks for me, forgive me--and--do not forget me. I couldn't bear +that. On Wednesday I am to be married to Mr. Belford. It is the only way +by which I can save my father. There seems no help for it, and I +consented this afternoon. Mr. Belford took up the mortgage, and I am to +be his reward." + +Elmer heard her through in silence, and then he stood up before her, and +his passion broke out in fury upon her. + +"Alma Denny, you are a fool." + +She cowered before him, and covered her face with her hands. + +"Have you no sense? Can you not see the wide pit of deceit that is +spread before you? Do you believe what he says? Will you walk into +perdition to save your father?" + +"Oh, Elmer! Elmer! Spare me, spare me, for my father's sake!" + +Her sobs and tears choked her utterance, and she shrank away into the +depths of the chair, in shame and terror, thankful that the darkness hid +her from his view. Still his righteous indignation blazed upon her +hotly. + +"Where have you lived? What have you done, that you should be so +deceived by this man? How can you save your father? If you cannot find +that missing will, of what avail is this withdrawal of the mortgage?" + +"I do not know. Oh, Elmer! I am weak, and I have no mother, and father +is----I must save him if I can--at any price." + +"You cannot save him. The devisee who held the will has heirs. They can +still claim the property. Besides, how could Mr. Belford pay off that +mortgage? Depend upon it, a gigantic fraud----" + +"Elmer! Thank God, you have saved----" + +She fainted quietly away, and slid down upon the floor at his feet. He +called two of the maids, and with their help he took her to her room and +placed her upon her own bed. Then, bidding them care for her properly, +he returned to his own room, and the heavy night fell down on the +sorrowful house. + +Far away in the northwest climbed up a ragged mass of sombre clouds. +Afar off the deep voice of the thunder muttered fitfully. The son of +science drew up his curtains and looked out on the coming storm. There +was a solemn hush and calm in the air. Nature seemed resting, and +nerving herself for the warfare of the elements. + +He too had need of calm. He drew a chair to the window, and sitting +astride of it, he rested his arms upon the back, and his chin upon his +folded hands, and for an hour watched the lightning flash from ragged +cloud to ragged cloud, and gave himself to deep and anxious thought. The +thunder grew nearer and nearer. The dark veil of clouds blotted out the +stars one by one. The roar of the water falling over the dam at the mill +seemed to fill all the air with its murmur. Every leaf and flower hung +motionless. + +He heard the village clock strike nine, with loud, deep notes that +seemed almost at hand. Every nerve of his body seemed strung to electric +tension, and all nature tuned to a higher pitch as if dark and terrible +things were abroad in the night. + +He heard a sound of closing blinds and windows. The servants were +shutting up the house, and preparing it for the storm. + +One of them knocked at his door, and asked if she should come in and +close his windows. + +He opened the door, thanked her, and said he would attend to it himself. +As he closed the door and stepped back into the room, he stood upon +something and there was a little crash. Thinking it might be glass, he +lit a candle and looked for the broken object, whatever it might be. + +It was Alma's engagement ring, broken in twain. It had slipped from her +nerveless finger when they took her to her room. With a gesture of +impatience, he picked up the fragments, and threw them, diamond and all, +out of the window into the garden below. + +Then for another hour he sat alone in the darkness of his room, watchful +and patient. He drew up the curtain toward Alma's room. There was a +light there, and he sat gazing at her white curtain till the light was +extinguished. The other lights were all put out one after the other, and +then it became very still. + +The clock struck ten. The gathering storm climbed higher up the western +sky. The lightning flashed brighter and brighter. There was a sigh in +the tree tops as if the air stirred uneasily. + +Suddenly there was another light. Mr. Belford's curtain was brightly +illuminated by his candle. Elmer moved his chair so that he could watch +the window, and waited patiently till the light was put out. Then he saw +the curtain raised and the window drawn down. + +"All right, my boy! That's just what I wanted. Nemesis has a clear road, +and her shadowy sword shall reach you. Now for the closed circuit +alarm." + +He silently pulled off his shoes, and then, with the tread of a cat, he +felt about his room till he found on the table two delicate coils of +fine insulated wire, and a couple of tacks. Carefully opening the door, +he crept down stairs and through the hall to the door of the library. +The door was closed, and kneeling down on the mat he pushed a tack into +the door near the jamb and stuck the other in the door post. From one to +another he stretched a bit of insulated wire. Then, aided by the glare +of the flashes of lightning, that had now grown bright and frequent, he +laid the wires under the mat and along the floor to the foot of the +stairs. Then in his stockinged feet he crept upward, dropping the wires +over into the well of the stairway as he went. In a moment or two the +wires were traced along the floor of the upper entry and under the door +into his room. Here they were secured to a small battery, and connected +with a tiny electric bell that stood on the mantle shelf. To stifle its +sound in case it rang, he threw his straw hat over the bell, and then he +felt sure that at least one part of his work was done. + +Louder and louder rolled the thunder. The lightning flashed brightly and +lit up the bare, mean little room where the wretch cowered and shivered +in the bed, sleepless and fearful he knew not why. He feared the storm +and the night. He feared everything. His guilty heart made terrors out +of the night and nature's healthful workings. The very storm, blessed +harbinger of clearer days and sweeter airs, terrified him. + +There was a sound of rushing wind in the air. A more vivid flash +blinded him. He sat up in bed and stopped his coward ears to drown the +splendid roll of the thunder. Another flash seemed to fill the room. + +Ah! What was that? His eyes seemed to start from their sockets in +terror. + +There, written in gigantic letters of fire upon the wall, glowed and +burned a single word: + + FRAUD! + +He stared at it and rubbed his eyes. It would not be winked out. There +was a loud crash of thunder and a furious dash of rain against the +window; then another blinding stroke of lightning. He drew the clothing +over his head in abject terror. Again the thunder rolled as if in savage +comment on the writing on the wall. + +It was a mistake, a delusion. He would face the horrid accusation. + +It was gone, and in its place was a picture. It seemed the top of---- + +Ah! It was that chimney. Already the false stucco had fallen off, and +there, pictured upon his wall in lines of fire, were the evidences of +his fraud and crime. + +He sprang from the bed with an oath and looked out of the window. +Darkness everywhere. The beating rain on the window pane ran down in +blinding rivulets. A vivid flash of lightning illuminated the garden and +the house. Not a living thing was stirring. He turned toward the bed. +The terrible picture had gone. With a muttered curse upon his weak, +disordered nerves, he crept into bed and tried to sleep. + +Suddenly the terrible writing glowed upon the wall again, and he fairly +screamed with fright and horror: + + MURDER! + +He writhed and turned upon the bed in mortal agony. He stared at the +letters of the awful word with ashen lips and chattering teeth. What +hideous dream was this? Had his reason reeled? Could it play him +phantom tricks like this? Or was it an avenging angel from heaven +writing his crimes upon the black night? + +"Great God! What was that?" + +The writing disappeared, and in its place stood a picture of his +wretched victim and himself. Her fair, innocent face looked down upon +him from the darkness, and he saw his own form beside her. + +He raved with real madness now. Great drops of perspiration gathered on +his face. He dared not face those beautiful eyes so calmly gazing at +him. Where had high Heaven gained such knowledge of him? How could God +punish him with such awful cruelty? + +"Hell and damnation have come," he screamed in frantic terror. The +thunder rolled in deep majesty, and none heard him. The wind and rain +beat upon the house, and his ravings disturbed no one. + +"Take it away! Take it away!" he cried in sheer madness and agony. + +It would not move. The lightning only made the picture more startling +and awful. The sweet and beautiful face of Alice Green lived before him +in frightful distinctness, and his very soul seemed to burn to cinder +before her serene, unearthly presence. + +It was her ghost revisiting the earth. Was it to always thus torment +him? + +"Thank God! It has gone." + +The room became pitch dark, and he fell back upon the pillow in what +seemed to him a bloody sweat. He could not sleep, and for some time he +lay trembling on the bed and trying to collect his senses and decide +whether he was in possession of his reason or not. + +Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a new vision sprang into +existence before him. + +An angel in long white robes seemed to be flying through the air toward +him, and above her head she held a sword. Beneath her feet was the word +"NEMESIS!" in letters of glowing fire. + +The poor wretch rose up in bed, kneeled down upon the mattress, and +facing the gigantic figure that seemed to float in the air above him, +cried aloud in broken gasps. + +"Pardon! For--Christ----" + +He threw up his arms and screamed in delirious terror. + +The angel advanced through the air toward him and grew larger and +taller. She seemed ready to strike him to the ground--and she was gone. + +He fell forward flat on his face, and tears gushed from his eyes in +torrents. For a while he lay thus moaning and crying, and then he rose, +staggered to the wash basin, bathed his face with cold water, and crept +shivering and trembling into bed. + + * * * * * + +The storm moved slowly away. The lightning grew less frequent, and the +thunder rolled in more subdued tones. The wind subsided, but the rain +fell steadily and drearily. One who watched heard the clock strike +twelve and then one. + +Slowly the laggard hours slipped away in silence. The rain fell in +monotonous showers. The darkness hung like a pall over everything. + +The wretch in his bed tossed in sleepless misery. He hardly dared look +at the blackness of the night, for fear some new vision might affright +him with ghostly warnings. What had he better do? Another night in this +haunted room would drive him insane. Had he not better fly--leave all +and escape out of sight in the hiding darkness? Better abandon the +greater prize, take everything in reach, and fly from scenes so +terrible. + +He rose softly, dressed completely, took a few essentials from his +table, did them up in a bundle, and then like a cat he crept out of the +room, never to return. The house was pitch dark and as silent as a tomb. +He had no need of a light, and, feeling his way along with his hands on +the wall, he stole down stairs and through the hall till he reached the +library door. With cautious fingers he turned the handle in silence and +pushed the door open. It seemed to catch on the threshold, but it was +only for an instant, and then he boldly entered the room. + +Placing his bundle upon the table, he took out a small bunch of keys, +and with his hands outstretched before him he felt for the safe. It was +easily found, and then he put in the key, unlocked the door, and swung +it open. With familiar fingers he pulled out what he knew were mere +bills and documents, and then he found the small tin box in which-- + +A blinding glare, an awful flash of overpowering light blazed before +him. His eyes seemed put out by its bewildering intensity, and a little +scream of terror escaped from his lips. A hand seized him by the collar +and dragged him over backward upon the floor. The blazing, burning light +filled all the room with a glare more terrible than the lightning. He +recovered his sight, and saw Nemesis standing above him, revolver in +hand, and with a torch of magnesium wire blazing in horrid flames above +his head. + +"Stir hand or foot, and--you understand. There are six chambers, and I'm +a good shot." + +"Let me up, you fool, or I'll kill you." + +"Oh! You surprise me, Mr. Belford. I thought it was a common robber." + +"No, it is not--so lower your pistol." + +"No, sir. You may rise, but make the slightest resistance, and I'll blow +your brains into muddy fragments. Sit in that chair, and when I've +secured you properly, I'll hear any explanation you may make. Your +conduct is very singular, Mr. Belford, to say the least. That's it. Sit +down in the arm chair. Now I'm going to tie you into it, and on the +slightest sign of resistance I shall fire." + +The poor, cowed creature sank into the chair, and the son of science +placed his strange lamp upon the table. With the revolver still in +hand, he procured a match and lit a candle on the table. Then he +extinguished his torch, and the overpowering light gave place to a more +agreeable gloom. Then he took from his pocket a tiny electric bell and a +little battery made of a small ink bottle. Then he drew forth a small +roll of wire, and securing one end to the battery, with the revolver +still in hand, he walked round the chair three times, and bound the +thief into it with the slender wire. + +"Stop this fooling, boy! Lower your revolver, and let me explain +matters." + +"No, sir. When I have you fast so that you can do no harm, I talk with +you--not before. Hold back your head. That's it. Rest it against the +chair while I draw this wire over your throat." + +"For God's sake, stop! Do you intend to garrote me?" + +"No. Only I mean to make you secure." + +"This won't hold me long. I'll break your wires in a flash, you little +fool." + +"No, you will not. The moment the wire is parted that bell will ring, +and I shall begin firing, and keep it up till you are disabled or dead." + +The man swore savagely, but the cold thread of insulated wire over his +throat thrilled his every nerve. It seemed some magic bond, mysterious, +wonderful, and dreadful. This cool man of science was an angel of awful +and incomprehensible power. His lamp of such mystic brilliance and that +battery quite unnerved his coward heart. What awful torture, what +burning flash of lightning might not rend him to blackened fragments if +the wires were broken! To such depths of puerile ignorance and terror +did the wretch sink in his guilty fancy. He dared not move a muscle lest +the wire break. The very thought of it filled him with unspeakable +agony. The son of science placed himself before his prisoner. With the +revolver at easy rest, he said: + +"Mr. Belford, I am going to call help. Do not move while I open the +door." + +In mortal terror the wretch turned his head round to see what was going +on. He managed to get a glimpse of the room without breaking the wire +round his throat, and he saw the young man stoop to the floor at the +door and pick up something. Then he made some strange and rapid motions +with the fingers of his right hand, while the left still steadied the +revolver. + +For several minutes nothing happened. The two men glared at each other +in silence, and then there was a sound of opening doors. One closed with +an echoing slam that resounded strangely through the old house, and then +there were light footsteps in the hall. + +"Oh! Elmer! What is it? What has happened?" + +"Nothing very serious--merely a common burglar. I called you because I +wished help." + +"Yes, I heard the bell, and I read your message in my room by the sound. +I dressed as quickly as possible. Is there no danger?" + +"No. Stand back. Do not come into the room. Call the men, and let them +wake the gardener and his son. You yourself call your father, and bid +him dress and come down at once. And, Alma, keep cool and do not be +alarmed. I need you, Alma, and you must help me." + +Then the house was very still, and the watcher paced up and down before +his prisoner in silence. There came a hasty opening of doors, and +excited steps and flaring lamps in the hall. + +"'Tis the young doctor. Oh! By mighty! Here's troubles!" + +"Quiet, men! Keep quiet. Come in. He cannot hurt you." + +The three men, shivering and anxious, peered into the room with blanched +faces and chattering teeth. + +"Have you a rope?" + +The calm voice of the speaker reassured them, and all three volunteered +to go for one. + +"No. One is enough. And one of you had better go to Mr. Denny's room and +help him down stairs. You, John, may stop with me." + +"Gods! Sir, he will spring at me!" + +"Never you fear. He's fastened into the chair. Besides----" + +"Ay, sir, you've the little pet! That's the kind o' argiment." + +"It is a rather nice weapon--six-shooter--Colt's." + +Presently, with much clatter, the gardener's son brought a rope, and +then, under Mr. Franklin's directions, they bound the man in the chair +hand and foot. + +A moment after they heard Mr. Denny's crutch stalking down the stairs, +and Alma's voice assuring him that there was indeed no danger--no danger +at all. + +"What does this mean, Mr. Franklin?" said the old gentleman as he came +to the door. + +"Burglary, sir. That is all. You need fear nothing. We have secured the +man." + +Mr. Denny entered the room leaning on Alma's arm. He saw the open safe +and the papers strewed upon the floor, and he lifted his hand and shook +his head in alarm and trouble. + +"A robbery! Would they ruin me utterly? Where is the villain?" + +"There, sir." + +Alma turned toward the man in the chair, and clung to her father in +terror. The old man lifted his crutch as if to strike. + +"My curse be upon you and yours." + +"Oh, father, come away. Leave the poor wretch. Perhaps he has taken +nothing." + +The men gathered round in a circle, and Elmer drew near to Alma. She +felt his presence near her, and involuntarily put out her hand to touch +him. + +"My curse fall on you! Who are you? What have I done to +you--you--viper?" + +The man secured in the chair, and with the wire drawn tightly over his +throat, replied not a word. + +Elmer advanced toward him, and Alma, with a little cry, tried to hinder +him. + +"Do not fear. He cannot move. I will release his head, and perhaps you +will recognize him." + +The wire about his throat was loosened, and the wretch lifted his head +into a more comfortable position. + +"Ah!" + +"Great Heavens! It is Mr. Belford!" + +"Yes, sir," said he. "I forgot to put away some papers, and I came down +to secure them, and while I was here that wretch surprised me, +threatened to murder me, and finally overpowered me and bound me here as +you see. If you will ask him to release me, I will get up and explain +everything." + +"It's a lie," screamed Mr. Denny, lifting his crutch. "I don't believe +you--you thief--you robber! It's a lie!" + +"Oh, father!" cried Alma. "Release him--let him go. He will go away +then, and leave us. He has done wrong; but let him go. It must be some +awful mistake--some----" + +"No! Never! never! ne--v----" + +The word died away on his lips, for on the instant there was a loud ring +at the hall door. They all listened in silence. Again the importunate +bell pealed through the echoing house. + +"It is some one in distress," said Elmer. "John, do you take a light and +go to the door. Ask what is wanted before you loose the chain, and tell +them to go away unless it is a case of life or death." + +They listened in breathless interest to the confused sounds in the hall. +There was a moving of locks, and then rough voices talking in suppressed +whispers. The candles flared in the cold draught of wind that swept into +the room, and the sound of the rain in the trees filled the air. Then +the door closed, and John returned, and in an excited whisper said: + +"It's Mr. Jones, the sheriff." + +At this word Mr. Belford struggled with his bonds, and in a broken +voice he cried: + +"Oh, Mr. Denny, spare me! Let me not be arrested. I will restore +every----" + +"Silence, sir!" said Elmer. "Not a word till you are spoken to. What +does he want, John?" + +"He says he must see Mr. Denny. It's very important--and, oh, sir, he's +a'most beside himself, and I wouldn't let him in." + +"Call him in at once," said Mr. Denny. "It is a most fortunate arrival. +The very man we want." + +John returned to the hall, and in a moment an old man, gray-haired and +wrinkled, but still vigorous and strong, stood before them. He seemed a +giant in his huge great-coat, and when he removed his hat his massive +head and thick neck seemed almost leonine. + +"Ah! Mr. Sheriff, you have arrived at a most opportune moment. We were +just awakened from our beds by this robber. We captured him, and we have +him here." + +"Beg pardon, sir. Sorry to hear it, but 'twere another errant that +brought me here. The widow Green's daughter, Alice, she that was +missing, has been found in the mill-race--dead." + +They all gave expression to undisguised astonishment, and the prisoner +in the chair groaned heavily. + +"And I have come for the key of the boat house, sir, that we may go for +the--body, sir." + +"How horrible! When did all this happen?" + +"We dunno, sir. I'd like the key ter once." + +"Certainly--certainly, Mr. Sheriff. But this man--cannot you secure him +for the night?" + +"Oh, ay. But the child, sir. The boys wants your boat to go for her." + +"Poor, poor Alice!" cried Alma, wringing her hands. + +"John," said Elmer, "get the key for Mr. Jones. Jake, you and your +father can go with the men, and, Mr. Jones, perhaps you had better wait +with us, for we have a little matter of importance to settle, and we +need you." + +"Now," said Mr. Franklin, "I have one or two questions I wish to ask the +man, and then, Mr. Jones, you will do us a favor if you will take him +away. + +"Lawrence Belford, as you value your soul, where did you obtain that +will?" + +If a bolt from the storm overhead had entered the room, it could not +have produced a more startling impression than did this simple question. +Mr. Denny dropped his crutch, and raised both hands in astonishment. +Alma gave a half suppressed scream, and even the sheriff and John were +amazed beyond expression. + +The man in the chair made no reply, and presently the breathless silence +was broken by the calm voice of the young man repeating his question. + +"I found it in the leaves of a book in the old bookcase in the mill +office." + +"What?" cried Mr. Denny, leaning forward and steadying himself by the +table. "My father's will! Did you find it? Release him, John. How can we +ever thank you, Mr. Belford? It is the missing will----" + +"Oh, Lawrence!" said Alma. "Why did you not tell us? why did you not +show it? How much trouble it would have saved." + +"Have patience, Alma. Let Mr. Belford rise and bring the will." + +"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Hear the rest of the story. Mr. Belford, you +destroyed or suppressed that will, did you not?" + +"Yes, I did--damn you!" + +"Good Lord!" cried the sheriff. "Did ye hear that?--destroyed it! That's +State's prison." + +"Oh, Mr. Franklin, Mr. Denny! have mercy on me! Do not let them arrest +me." + +The poor creature seemed to be utterly cowed and crushed in an instant. + +"Marcy!" said the sheriff, taking out a pair of handcuffs. "It's little +marcy ye'll git." + +"You ask for mercy!" cried Mr. Denny, his face livid with passion. +"You--you wretch! Have you not ruined me? Have you not made my child a +beggar, and carried my gray hairs in sorrow to the grave? You knew the +value of this will--and you destroyed it! Your other crimes are as +nothing to this. I could forgive your monstrous frauds in my mills----" + +Mr. Belford winced and looked surprised. + +"Ay! wince you may. I have found out everything, thanks to--but I'll not +couple his name with yours. And the release of the mortgage--have you +that?" + +"No, sir. It is in that bag on the table." + +The old gentleman eagerly took up the bundle that lay on the table, and +began with trembling fingers to open it. + +"Wait a moment, Mr. Denny," said Mr. Franklin. "I should like to ask +this man a question or two." + +Mr. Denny paused, and there was a profound silence in the room. + +"Lawrence Belford, if you are wise, you will speak the truth. That +release is a forgery--or at least it has no legal value." + +"It is not worth a straw," replied the prisoner with cool impudence; +"and on the whole, I'm glad of it. The mortgage will be foreclosed +to-morrow." + +"Your share will be small, Mr. Belford. I am afraid your partner will +find some difficulty in making a settlement with you, unless he joins +you in prison." + +Mr. Denny sat heavily down in an arm-chair and groaned aloud. In vain +Alma, with choking voice, tried to comfort him. The blow was too +terrible for words, and for a moment or two there was a painful silence +in the room. + +Mr. Franklin seemed nervous and excited. He fumbled in his pockets as if +in search of something. Presently he advanced toward the old gentleman +and said quietly: + +"Mr. Denny, can you bear one more piece of news--one more link in this +terrible chain of crime?" + +"Yes," he replied slowly. "There can be nothing worse than this. Speak, +my son--let us hear everything." + +"I think, sir," said the young man reverently, "that I ought to thank +God that He has enabled me to bring such knowledge as He has given me to +your service." + +Then after a brief pause he added: + +"There is the will, sir." + +With these words he held out a small bit of sheet glass about two inches +square. + +"Where?" cried Mr. Denny in amazement. "I see nothing." + +"There it is--on that piece of glass. That dusky spot in the centre is a +micro-photographic copy of your father's will." + +"My son, my son, do not trifle with us in this our hour of trial." + +"Far be it from me to do such a thing. Alma, will you please go to my +room and bring down my lantern? And John, you may go and help Miss +Denny. Bring a sheet from the spare bed also." + +"I do not know what you mean, my son. You tell me the will is destroyed, +and you say you have a copy. Is it a legal copy? and how do you know it +is really my father's will? Have you read it?" + +"Yes, sir. You shall read it too presently. I have already shown it to a +lawyer, and he pronounced it correct and perfectly legal." + +"But why did you not tell us of it before?" + +"I have only had it a few days, sir, and I wished first to crush or +capture this robber." + +"Hadn't ye better let me take him off, sir?" said the sheriff. "He's +done enough to take him afore the grand jury. Besides, we have another +bitter bill against him down in the village." + +"No," said Mr. Franklin. "Let him stay and see the will. It may interest +him to know that all his villainous plans are utterly overthrown." + +"Shut up, you whelp," said the man in the chair. + +"Shut up--ye," replied the sheriff, administering a stout cuff to the +prisoner's ear. "Ye best hold your tongue, man." + +Just here Alma and John returned with the lantern. Under Elmer's +directions they hung the sheet over one of the windows, and then the +young man prepared his apparatus for a small trial of lantern +projections. Mr. Denny sat in his chair silent and wondering. He knew +not what to say or do, and watched these preparations with the utmost +attention. + +"Mr. Sheriff, if you please, you will stand near Mr. Belford, to prevent +him from attempting mischief when I darken the room. John, you may put +out all the candles save one." + +Alma took her father's hand and kneeled upon the floor beside him as if +to aid and comfort him. + +"Now, John, set that candle just outside the door in the entry." + +A sense of awe and fear fell on them all as the room became dark, and +none save the young son of science dared breathe. Suddenly a round spot +of light fell on the sheet, and its glare illuminated the room dimly. + +"Before I show the will, Mr. Sheriff, I wish you to see a photo that may +be of use to you in that little matter in the village of which you were +speaking." + +Two dusky figures slid over the disk of light. They grew more and more +distinct. + +"Great God! It's Alice Green!" + +A passion of weeping filled the room, and Elmer opened the lantern, and +the room became light. Alma, with her head bent upon her father's knee, +was bathed in tears. + +"Poor, poor lost Alice!" + +"And the fellow with her? Who is he?" cried the sheriff. + +"That is Mr. Belford--Mr. Lawrence Belford," said Elmer with cool +confidence. "That picture was taken through a telescope from my room on +the morning of the 13th." + +"The 13th! Why, man, that was the day she was missed." + +"Yes. Mr. Belford was with her that day, and perhaps he can explain her +disappearance." + +The prisoner groaned in abject terror and misery. He saw it all now. His +dream pictures were explained. His defeat and detection were +accomplished through the young man's science. That he should have been +overthrown by such simple means filled him with mortification and anger. + +"You shall have the picture, Mr. Sheriff. You may need it at the trial. +And now for the will." + +The room became again dark, and the figures on the wall stood out sharp +and distinct on the sheet. Then the picture faded away, and in its place +appeared writing--letters in black upon white ground: + + + "SALMON FALLS, June 1, 1863. + + "I, Edward Denny, do hereby leave and bequeath to my son, John + Denny, all of my property, both real and personal. All other + wills I have made are hereby annulled. My near death prevents a + more formal will. + + "EDWARD DENNY. + + "Witness: + + "JOHN MAXWELL, M.D." + +"My father's will. Thank----" + +There was a heavy fall, and Elmer opened his lantern quickly. It was too +much for the old man. He had fallen upon the floor insensible. + +"A light, John, quick." + +They lifted him tenderly, and with Alma's help the old sheriff and the +serving man took him away to his room. + +The moment the two men were alone, the prisoner in the chair broke out +in a torrent of curses and threats. The young man quietly took up his +revolver, and said sternly: + +"Lawrence Belford, hold your peace. Your threats are idle. You insulted +me outrageously the day I came here. I bear you no malice, but when you +attempted your infamous plan to capture my cousin and to ruin her +father, I sprang to their rescue with such skill as I could command. We +shall not pursue you with undue rigor, but with perfect justice----" + +"Oh, Mr. Franklin, have mercy upon me! Let me go! Let me escape before +they return. I will go away--far away! Save me, save me, sir! I never +harmed you. Have mercy upon me!" + +"Had you shown mercy perhaps I might now. No, sir; justice before mercy. +Hark--the officer comes." + +They unfastened the ropes about Belford, and released the wires, and in +silence he went away into the night, a broken-down, crushed, and ruined +man in the hands of his grisly Nemesis. + +The young man flung himself upon the lounge in the library, and in a +moment was fast asleep. + + * * * * * + +The red gold of the coming day crept up the eastern sky. The storm +became beautiful in its fleecy rains in the far south. As the stars +paled, the sweet breath of the cool west wind sprang up, shaking the +raindrops in showers from the trees. The birds sang and the day came on +apace. + +To one who watched it seemed the coming of a fairer day than had ever +shone upon her life. The vanished storm, the fresh aspect of nature +moved her to tears of happiness. Long had she watched the stars. They +were the first signs of light and comfort she had discovered, and now +they paled before the sun. Thus she sat by the open window in the +library and watched with a prayer in her heart. + +She looked at the mantel clock. Half past four. In half an hour the +house would be stirring. All was now safe. She could return to her room. +She rose and approached the sleeper on the lounge. He slept peacefully, +as if the events of the night disturbed him not. + +He smiled in his dreams, and murmured a name indistinctly. She drew back +hastily and put her hand over her mouth, while a bright blush mounted to +her face. Just here, through the sweet, still air of the morning, came +the sound of the village bell. Tears gathered in her eyes and fell +unheeded upon her hands, clasped before her. + +"Poor--lost--Alice--nineteen--just my----" + +"Alma." + +She turned toward the sleeper with a startled cry. He was awake and +sitting up. + +"What bell is that?" + +"It is tolling. They have found her." + +"Yes, it is a sad story. Alma?" + +She advanced toward him. He noticed her tears and the morning robe in +which she was dressed. + +"What is it, Elmer? Do you feel better?" + +"Yes. It was a sorry night for us." + +"Yes, the storm has cleared away." + +He did not seem to heed what she said. + +"How long have you been up?" + +"Since it happened. After I saw father up stairs, I came down and found +you here asleep. And Elmer--forgive me--it was wrong, but I did not mean +to stay here so long----" + +"Alma!" + +"You will pardon me?" + +"Oh! Pardon you--pardon you--why should I? I dreamed the angels watched +me." + +"I was anxious, and we owe you so much. We can never reward you--never!" + +"Reward, Alma! I want none--save----" + +"Save what?" + +He opened his arms wide. A new and beautiful light came into her eyes. + +"Can there be greater reward than love?" + +"No. Love is the best reward--and it is yours." + + CHARLES BARNARD. + + + + +THE MURDER OF MARGARY. + + +Our own politics have so absorbed the attention of the press and the +public for the last six months, that events of decided international +prominence have attracted merely a brief notice, instead of the careful +discussion which their importance warranted. Even the "Eastern +question," that has so long kept the European world in a state of +excitement and anxiety almost as intense and even more painful than that +in which our own country is now plunged, excited but a fitful interest +here. It was only by an effort that we could extend our political +horizon as far east as Constantinople. All beyond was comparative +darkness. In this darkness, however, history has gone steadily on +accumulating new and important data, which must be taken note of if we +would keep up with the record of the times. + +The term "Eastern question" has come to mean the political complications +arising from the presence of the Turkish empire in Europe. The +expression might much more appropriately be applied to the serious +difficulties that have for the last year and a half existed between the +governments of England and China, and which have, as it now appears, +been brought to a reasonably satisfactory conclusion. These difficulties +sprang out of the murder of an English subject, Augustus Raymond Margary +by name, who was travelling in an official capacity in a remote part of +the Chinese empire. They were still further complicated by an almost +simultaneous attack upon a British exploring expedition that had just +crossed the Chinese frontier from Burmah, with the intention of +surveying and opening up to trade an overland route between that country +and the Middle Kingdom. To understand the matter it will be necessary to +give a brief recapitulation of some events that went before. + +The vast importance of establishing an overland trade route between +India and China will be seen by a glance at the map. It has been the +unrealized dream of generations of India and China merchants. "The trade +route of the future" it has been called; and when we consider the vast +marts of commerce that such a highway would bring in direct contact, it +is impossible to think the name thus enthusiastically given an +exaggeration. An overland passage between China and Burmah has long been +known and made use of by the native merchants of these countries. From +time immemorial it has served as a highway for invading armies or +peaceful caravans. How highly the two governments appreciated its +importance to the commercial prosperity of their respective subjects is +shown by the clause in a treaty concluded by them in 1769, which +stipulated that the "gold and silver road" between the two countries +should always be kept open. European travellers in Eastern lands, from +the ubiquitous Marco Polo down, have also done their best to call +attention to it. It may therefore seem somewhat strange that England, +the commercial interest of whose Indian empire would be most directly +promoted by the opening up of this new channel of trade, should have +gone so long without paying much official attention to the matter. +Recent events, however, have proved, what was probably foreseen by those +whose business it was to study up the subject, that there were grave +practical difficulties to be overcome before the plan could be +successfully carried out. + +In the first place it was necessary to secure the consent of both the +Burmese and Chinese governments--a task of almost insurmountable +difficulty because of the natural dislike of these two powers to share +with another the trade monopoly they had heretofore exclusively +enjoyed. Then again there lies between the civilizations of India and +China a broad tract of wild and mountainous country, inhabited by a +mongrel race of savages, known as Shans and Kakhyens, who, while +nominally owing allegiance to one or the other of their more civilized +neighbors, practically find their chief support in levying blackmail on +all people passing through their territory. + +To fit out an exploring expedition strong enough to defy the attacks of +the savages, and yet small enough not to convey the idea of an invasion, +was, therefore, a work requiring much patience and diplomacy. At length, +however, in 1867, the British Government in India succeeded in gaining +the consent of the King of Burmah to the passage through his dominions +of a mission combining the necessary strength and limits. Under the +command of Major Slade, this little army made its way safely through the +debatable land of the Kakhyens and Shans, and, entering the province of +Yunnan, penetrated as far into the Chinese empire as the city of Momien. +But here its further progress was checked. + +Yunnan was at the moment in the very crisis of a rebellion against the +imperial government. The population of the province is largely +Mohammedan. How the religion of the Prophet first obtained so firm a +foothold there is still for antiquaries to discover. A semi-historical +legend says that the germs of the faith were planted by a colony of +Arabs who settled in the country more than a thousand years ago. However +this may be, it is certain that the first Mohammedans were not Chinese. +By intermarriage, propagation, and adoption, they slowly but steadily +communicated their belief to the original inhabitants, until, at the +time of which we are writing, more than a tenth of the ten million +inhabitants were fanatical Mussulmans. To the mixed race that embrace +this creed the general name of Panthays has been given, though for what +reason is not known. + +In 1855 the Panthays, oppressed, it is said, by the Chinese officials, +rose up in rebellion against the imperial government. Led by an obscure +Chinese follower of Mohammed, called Tu-win-tsen, the insurrection grew +rapidly in extent and success. One imperial city after the other fell +into the hands of the rebels, until the entire western section of the +province was in their possession and organized as a separate and +independent nation, under the sovereignty of Tu-win-tsen, who had in the +mean while assumed the more euphonious title of Sultan Soleiman. + +It was when Soleiman had attained the height of his glory that Major +Slade's party entered Yunnan, and it was with him as the governor _de +facto_ that the British commander entered into negotiations. Such a +proceeding, though it may have been necessary, was fatal to the further +progress of the expedition. The Chinese authorities naturally refused to +pass on a party that had, however innocently, entered into friendly +relations with its rebellious subjects. Major Slade had the good sense +to understand this. The mission retraced its steps into Burmah, and the +exploration of the "trade route of the future" was indefinitely +postponed. + +The visit of the English party to Momien was the signal for a rapid +downfall of Soleiman's power. The imperial government, seriously alarmed +at the practical recognition of the rebels' independence by an outside +power, now put forth all its might to reestablish its authority. It was +successful. + +Under the energetic command of one Li-sieh-tai, a famous general who had +once himself been a rebel, the Chinese armies wrested back the country, +foot by foot, to its former governors. In 1872 Tali-fu, the last and +most important stronghold of the rebellion, was closely invested. After +a desperate resistance, it was obliged to open its gates. + +The end of Soleiman was dramatic in the extreme. He was told that his +followers should be spared if he himself would surrender. He agreed to +the terms, and, after administering a dose of poison to himself, his +three wives and five children, he mounted his chair, and was borne to +the camp of his enemies, where he arrived a corpse sitting erect, the +imperial turban on his head and the keys of his capital clasped tightly +in his hand. His head, preserved in honey, was sent to Peking. The +imperial troops poured into Tali-fu. A general massacre occurred. Those +Mohammedans that were not slaughtered fled to the mountains, where they +still continued to keep up a guerilla warfare. But the rebellion was +practically at an end, and by 1874 the authority of the central +government was firmly established throughout the province. + +The trade between Burmah and China, which had ceased almost entirely +during the long years of the rebellion, again sprang into activity, and +once more the attention of the Indian government was attracted to it. In +1874 a new expedition of exploration was prepared and placed under the +command of Colonel Browne. The consent of the King of Burmah was +obtained, and the British minister in Peking, Mr. Thomas Wade, was +instructed to explain the object of the mission to the Chinese +government, so that it might receive no opposition upon crossing the +Chinese frontier. It was also arranged that a special messenger should +be despatched from Peking across China to the frontier to act as +interpreter to the expedition, and to prepare the mandarins along the +route for its approach. For this responsible and dangerous service, +Augustus Raymond Margary was selected--a young man attached to the +English consular department, a perfect master of the Chinese language +and customs, and a fine type of the best class of young Englishmen. + +Provided with the necessary passports from the British minister, +countersigned by the Tsung-li-yamen, the Chinese foreign office, Mr. +Margary started on his journey. He went up the Yangtsze river as far as +Hankow in one of the huge American steamers of the Shanghai Steam +Navigation Company. At Hankow, on September 4, 1874, he bade good-by to +Western civilization, and, with a Chinese teacher and two or three +Chinese attendants, began his trip through a vast and populous country, +a _terra incognita_ to Europeans. + +His diary of this journey has recently been published. It is interesting +in the extreme, though devoid of those startling episodes that generally +give charm to accounts of travels in unexplored lands. + +He has no old theories to prove and no ambition to start new ones, but +simply jots down his impressions of people and things with no attempt at +elaboration. The result is, we have a plain, faithful, unvarnished +picture of Chinese life and manners, as seen by an intelligent, +unprejudiced man. Upon the whole, we think this picture most decidedly +favorable to the Chinese character. + +Did space permit, we should like to follow Mr. Margary, stage by stage, +through his long journey of 900 miles. The first part, through the +provinces of Yunnan and Kwei-chow as far as the city of Ch'en-yuan-fu, +was made by boat--a long and monotonous trip of four weeks, through a +country so picturesque that the "sight was at last completely satiated +with the perpetual view of the most glorious scenery that ever made the +human heart leap with wonder and delight." + +At Ch'en-yuan-fu he exchanged his boat for a chair, in which he +completed his journey; traversing Kwei-chow and Yunnan, and the +debatable hill land that lies between the latter province and Burmah; +arriving in Bhamo, on the Burmese side of the border, on January 17, +1875, where he joined the expedition of Colonel Browne that was +advancing to meet him. + +Except in two or three instances, he was treated with courtesy by the +people and respect by the officials. In the exceptional cases a display +of his Chinese passports sufficed to quickly change the demeanor of the +mandarins; while a few calm words of rebuke upon their want of +politeness generally caused popular mobs to disperse abashed. An +instance of this is given by him in his account of his stay at Lo-shan, +a small naval station on the Yangtsze. In returning from a visit to the +mandarin of the place, he was surrounded by a dense crowd of street +rabble, leaping and screaming like maniacs, and shouting to one another: +"I say! Come along. Here's a foreigner. What a lark! Ha, ha, ha!" +Margary descended from his chair and delivered a short address: + +"Why _do_ you crowd round me in this rude manner? Is this your courtesy +to strangers? I have often heard it said that China was of all things +distinguished for civility and courtesy. But am I to take this as a +specimen of it? Shall I go back and tell my countrymen that your boasted +civility only amounts to rudeness?" "I was astonished," he adds, "at the +effect this speech produced. They listened with silence, and when I had +done walked quietly back quite abashed. Only a few remained; and over +and again after this many an irrepressible youngster was severely +rebuked for any sign of disrespect by his elders." + +Contrast this with the effect which such a speech as that of Margary's, +delivered by a Chinaman, would have had upon an English or American mob, +and we cannot repress a slight feeling of sympathy with the natives of +the Flowery Kingdom when they call us "outside barbarians." + +His Chinese letters of recommendation, given him by the Tsung-li-yamen +to the viceroys of the three great provinces through which he passed, +proved of inestimable value. In the viceroy of Yunnan especially he +found an unexpected ally and friend, who issued instructions to the +officials all along the road to receive the foreigner with the utmost +respect. The extent to which these instructions were carried out +depended, of course, very largely on the temperament of the local +mandarins. "Some were obsequious, others reserved, but most of them met +me with high bred courtesy worthy of praise, and such as befits a +welcome from man to man." + +"Taking all these experiences together," says Sir Rutherford Alcock, +formerly British minister to China, a gentleman by no means inclined to +judge Chinese officials favorably, "the impression left is decidedly to +the advantage of the central government so far as the _bona fides_ of +the safe-conduct given is concerned." + +A great deal of Margary's success was also undoubtedly due to his +personal magnetism and thorough acquaintance with Chinese habits. +Indeed, no one can read this diary without deriving from it a high idea +of the genuine attractiveness and solidity of the author's character. In +sickness, in trouble, in delay, in vexation, there runs through it all a +refreshing, manly, Anglo-Saxon spirit. Knowing as we do what is coming, +we find ourselves involuntarily catching with hope at little incidents +that seem to delay onward march. Reading these pages, it is impossible +to realize that he who wrote them is dead. It is with a mournful feeling +of utter and fatalistic helplessness that we follow this young and +generous hero while he travels, all unconsciously, down to his death. To +the very last all seems to go well with him. At Manwyne, the last city +on his journey, the renowned and dreaded Li-sieh-tai, the suppressor of +the Mohammedan rebellion, actually prostrated himself before him and +paid him the highest honors, warning the assembled chiefs of the savage +hill people that they had best take good care of the stranger, as he +came protected by an imperial passport. + +On the 16th of February, 1875, Colonel Browne's expedition, accompanied +by Margary, broke up their camp at Tsitkaw, in Burmah, and advanced +toward the Chinese frontier. + +Arrangements had been made with the practically independent chieftains +of this wild region for the safe passage of the party through the hilly +country. As it advanced, however, ominous rumors of a projected attack +by the hill savages and Chinese frontiersmen reached the ears of its +members. Though these rumors were generally discredited, it was thought +best to send forward Margary as a pioneer, he being well known to the +people and officials of the Chinese border town of Manwyne. Margary +willingly undertook the mission. With his Chinese teacher and +attendants, he hastened on in advance, the rest of the expedition +following more slowly. The last communications that came from him were +dated "Seray," a town just inside the Chinese frontier. He reported that +thus far the road was unmolested and the people civil. On the strength +of these advices, Colonel Browne pressed on, crossed the Chinese +frontier, and advanced as far as Seray. It was here, on the morning of +February 21, that Margary and his attendants had all been murdered, near +Manwyne. + +Hardly had the news been communicated when it was found that the +expedition was surrounded by a large body of armed men, who instantly +began an attack. The assailants, a motley crowd of Kakhyens and Chinese +border men, were soon repulsed; but as reports came streaming in that +large bodies of Chinese train bands were advancing to their aid, it was +thought best to beat a retreat. This was safely effected, and by the +26th of February the expedition found itself once more at Bhamo. Thus +mournfully ended the second attempt to explore "the trade route of the +future." + + * * * * * + +The mere fact that a British subject had been murdered, and a British +exploring expedition attacked on Chinese soil, would in itself have +created a grave subject for diplomatic discussion between the +governments of England and China. But the matter was rendered doubly +serious by the presence of many circumstances tending to show that the +outrage had been committed with the tacit connivance, if not at the +direct instigation, of the provincial authorities of Yunnan. The whole +affair, it was claimed, was not the result of an outbreak of +booty-seeking savages, but the culmination of a systematic plot on the +part of the Chinese officials. + +In laying the matter before Prince Kung, Mr. Wade, the English minister, +plainly implied that such was his opinion, and demanded from the Chinese +government the promptest and most searching investigation. + +An imperial decree was at once issued, commanding the governor of Yunnan +to proceed at once to the spot and enter upon a thorough examination of +the case. Mr. Wade, however, demanded some securer guarantee that strict +justice should be done. He submitted to the Tsung-li-yamen an ultimatum +containing three principal conditions: that such British officials as he +might see fit to appoint should go to Yunnan and assist at the +investigation; that passports should be immediately issued, to enable +another expedition to enter Yunnan by the same route; and that a sum of +$150,000 be placed in his hands as a guarantee of good faith. The +Chinese government demurred at first to these demands, but the threat of +Mr. Wade to leave Peking unless they were accepted before a certain day +finally caused it to give a reluctant consent. Some months were then +spent in diplomatic wrangling over the conditions under which the +British officials should proceed to Yunnan, and what their powers should +be on their arrival there. The Chinese government showed, in the opinion +of Mr. Wade, a strong desire to avoid fulfilling its part of the +contract. The negotiations on several occasions assumed an acute +character of danger. Both parties prepared for war. The English minister +concentrated the English fleet in the China seas; the Chinese government +bought up large supplies of arms and ammunition. But Prince Kung and his +advisers had the good sense to see that the chances in a struggle of +arms would be too unequal, and always submitted at the last moment. At +last the Chinese government, having agreed to all the preliminary +conditions, and having also despatched a high officer, Li-hang-chang, to +Yunnan to thoroughly investigate the affair, "without regard to +persons," the British minister agreed to let the English mission of +investigation proceed. Mr. Grosvenor, a secretary of legation, was +placed at its head. Li-hang-chang went on in advance. + +This high official seems to have done his duty in a spirit of strict +impartiality. His reports to the government make no attempt to conceal +the guilt of the provincial officials, or to shield them from deserved +punishment. He immediately ordered the arrest of the general commanding +at Momien and a number of other local officers, pushing his inquiries +with vigor and with what appears a sincere desire to arrive at the +ground facts. In the course of his labors he came to the conclusion that +Li-sieh-tai, whom we have already mentioned, was one of the instigators, +probably the chief one, of the attack on the mission. He at once +memorialized the throne to have him arrested and brought up for trial. +In this memorial he gives what seems to us, upon an unprejudiced +comparison of testimony, the truest version of the affair. He believes +the murder of Margary and his attendants to have been the work of +"lawless offenders," greedy of gain, but that the attack upon Colonel +Browne's party was made at the secret instigation of Li-sieh-tai and +other provincial officials, although that general was not on the spot, +nor were there any soldiers concerned in the assault. He shows that +Li-sieh-tai had already written to the governor of Yunnan, telling him +that he (Li) was "taking vigorous measures to protect the region against +invasion," and that the governor had written back commanding him to stop +all further proceedings and quiet the apprehensions of the people. This +command, however, was not received until after the murder and attack had +taken place. "It appears from this, consequently" (the report adds), +"that although Li-sieh-tai had no intention of committing murder, he is +liable to a charge of having laid plans to obstruct the expedition; and +your servants have agreed, after taking counsel together, that he should +not be suffered to take advantage of his official rank as a cover for +lying evasions, gaining time with false statements, in dread of +incurring punishment." + +Immediately upon receipt of this memorial a decree appeared in the +Peking "Gazette" ordering Li-sieh-tai to be degraded from his rank, and +commanding him to proceed at once to Yunnan for trial before the high +commission. + +As we have said before, we think Li-hang-chang's account is +substantially correct. There are a great many circumstances tending to +exculpate Li-sieh-tai from any wish to have Margary murdered. Had such +been his wish, he might more easily have disposed of him when he passed +through _en route_ for Burmah. Moreover, at the very time of Margary's +murder, Mr. Elias, a member of the expedition, who had struck off from +the main body in order to explore another route to Momien, was +entertained by Li-sieh-tai at Muangnow, a town at some distance from the +seat of the murder. Though completely in his power, Mr. Elias received +all possible civility compatible with a determined and successful +opposition to his further advance. Now it seems absurd to believe that +Li-sieh-tai felt any stronger personal dislike for Margary than he felt +for Mr. Elias. + +In regard to his complicity in the attack on the expedition, the +evidence is just as strong on the other side. He had a deep and by no +means unnatural prejudice against English exploring parties. The last +mission of the kind had entered into negotiations, as we have already +mentioned, with the enemies against whom this Chinese general was +prosecuting bitter war. The smouldering embers of the rebellion were not +even yet entirely extinguished; the presence of an armed body of +foreigners, no matter how small, who had previously shown a friendly +disposition toward the Mohammedan usurpation, might awaken new hopes in +the breasts of the still surviving rebels. This feeling, combined with +the jealous wish of the border merchants, both Chinese and Burmese, to +retain a monopoly of the overland trade, undoubtedly inspired a general +feeling of hostility among the local officials and the people, which +found a ready instrument in the greedy and savage character of the +frontier tribes. Where so much combustible matter was heaped up, it +needed but a hint to bring on the catastrophe that followed. + +While Li-hang-chang and the Chinese commission were conducting the +preliminary investigations, Mr. Grosvenor and his colleagues were +approaching. Their journey across the empire was attended not only with +no opposition or difficulty, but they were received everywhere with +great and even obsequious respect. Upon arriving in Yunnan they found an +immense pile of evidence awaiting their inspection. Mr. Grosvenor's +report has not yet been published, we believe, but from general rumor, +and the fact that nothing has been heard to the contrary, we are +justified in believing that he found the state of the case to be +substantially as it was reported by the Chinese high commissioner. After +having reviewed the evidence presented, after having witnessed the +execution of a number of wretches convicted of direct complicity in the +murder of Margary, the Grosvenor commission pursued its way, escorted by +troops that had been despatched from Burmah for the purpose. + +Diplomatic negotiations were once more transferred to Peking, and turned +upon the compensation to be offered by China for the violation of +international law that had occurred upon her soil. The demands of the +British minister, who had in the mean time been knighted as Sir Thomas +Wade by the Queen, as a just acknowledgment of his efficient services, +were considered too severe by the Chinese government, and at one time it +looked as if all further negotiations would be broken off. + +Sir Thomas finally carried his threat to leave Peking into execution. +Prince Kung had evidently not expected so decided a step, and was +seriously alarmed by it, for the Chinese government have shown +throughout the affair a very wise disposition not to push matters to the +last extreme. Li-wang-chang (a brother, we believe, of the official who +was sent to Yunnan), the governor of the province of Chihli, the highest +and most powerful statesman in the country, was immediately granted +extraordinary powers, and sent after the English minister. After some +diplomatic fencing Sir Thomas agreed to meet the Chinese envoy at +Chefoo--a seaport about half way between Shanghai and Peking, a great +summer resort of the foreigners in China--the Newport of the eastern +world. Here, in the month of September, 1876, with much surrounding pomp +and ceremony, a convention was signed between the English and the +Chinese plenipotentiaries. The final settlement of the difficulty was +celebrated by a grand banquet, given by Li-wang-chang to Sir Thomas and +the other foreign ambassadors, who had been drawn to Chefoo by their +interest in the negotiations. + +The following is a synopsis of the agreement: + + 1. An imperial edict to be published throughout the Chinese + empire, setting forth the facts of the affair, subject to the + directions and approval of the British minister. + + 2. Consular officials to visit the various towns and public + places to see that the said imperial edict is posted where all + can see it. + + 3. The family of Margary to be paid about $250,000 indemnity. + + 4. A further indemnity to be given, covering all expenses of + the unsuccessful expedition under Colonel Browne. + + 5. A special embassy of apology to be sent to England. + +Then follow a number of concessions with regard to placing on a better +footing the relations of foreign ambassadors to the Chinese authorities, +the enlargement of the foreign settlement at Shanghai, etc. + +But by far the most important clause is that opening up to foreign trade +four new ports on the Yangtsze river. This concession is virtually +equivalent to throwing open the whole interior of the country to foreign +merchants. + +Altogether the British minister has certainly won a triumph that well +deserved a knighthood. + +Undoubtedly he had a very strong indictment against the Chinese +authorities, although we cannot help regarding the matter of the murder +and the attack as more the misfortune than the fault of the central +government. Nevertheless, western nations are fully justified in rigidly +holding the Peking authorities responsible for any violation of +international duties committed anywhere within their jurisdiction; and +it is not only fair, but expedient, that when such cases do occur some +practical and important reparation should be made for them. The +concessions obtained by Sir Thomas Wade, though sweeping, are not, in +our opinion, excessive. On the other hand, the Chinese government by +granting them has fully satisfied the demands of justice. It could not +have gone further without losing the respect and incurring the dangerous +opposition of its people. Indeed, throughout the negotiations Prince +Kung and his advisers have had to contend against a powerful +anti-foreign party in the court and the nation. Strong fears were +entertained more than once that the reactionary element would get the +upper hand. Some idea of Prince Kung's difficulties may be conceived +when we read that one morning the walls of Peking were found covered +with placards bitterly denouncing the policy of the government, and +calling upon all good subjects to rise up against such unpatriotic +leaders. + +When Li-wang-chang, who enjoys great popularity in his province, was en +route for Chefoo to negotiate with Sir Thomas Wade, the people of +Tien-tsin made the most determined efforts to prevent him from going +further. For a time he was literally besieged in his own _yamen_, and it +was only by the publication of a proclamation warning the people that +they were guilty of rebellion against the emperor when they hindered the +progress of his representatives, that the opposition was withdrawn. + +Sir Thomas deserves the highest praise for going just far enough and no +further in his demands. Yet the last mail from China brings the news +that the foreign residents there are intensely dissatisfied with the +result of the settlement. This was to be expected. Any settlement short +of one effected by war would have met the disapproval of these gentry. +The interests of the Chinese and the foreign merchants are too +antagonistic to admit of impartial judgment on questions of this sort. +England, in their opinion, could gain greater concessions by war than by +negotiations--ergo, they would have all such troubles settled by "blood +and iron." + +The London "Times" puts it very well when it says: + +"Those Englishmen who reside in the treaty ports are not impartial +judges of the concessions. Too often they go to Canton or Shanghai in a +frame of mind that would exasperate a much less vain people than the +Chinese. They sometimes talk as if they thought it a mere impertinence +on the part of an inferior race to have a pride of its own, and they act +as if the chief end of the Chinese were to minister to the demands of +British trade." + + WALTER A. BURLINGAME. + + + + +THE LETTERS OF HONORE DE BALZAC. + + +The first feeling of the reader of the two volumes which have lately +been published under the foregoing title is that he has almost done +wrong to read them. He reproaches himself with having taken a shabby +advantage of a person who is unable to defend himself. He feels as one +who has broken open a cabinet or rummaged an old desk. The contents of +Balzac's letters are so private, so personal, so exclusively his own +affairs and those of no one else, that the generous critic constantly +lays them down with a sort of dismay, and asks himself in virtue of what +peculiar privilege, or what newly discovered principle it is, that he is +thus burying his nose in them. Of course he presently reflects that he +has not broken open a cabinet nor violated a desk, but that these +repositories have been very freely and confidently emptied into his lap. +The two stout volumes of the "Correspondence de H. de Balzac, +1819-1850,"[1] lately put forth, are remarkable, like many other French +books of the same sort, for the almost complete absence of editorial +explanation or introduction. They have no visible sponsor; only a few +insignificant lines of preface and the scantiest possible supply of +notes. Such as the book is, in spite of its abruptness, we are thankful +for it; in spite, too, of our bad conscience. What we mean by our bad +conscience is the feeling with which we see the last remnant of charm, +of the graceful and the agreeable, removed from Balzac's literary +physiognomy. His works had not left much of this favoring shadow, but +the present publication has let in the garish light of full publicity. +The grossly, inveterately professional character of all his activity, +the absence of leisure, of contemplation, of disinterested experience, +the urgency of his consuming money-hunger--all this is rudely exposed. +It is always a question whether we have a right to investigate a man's +life for the sake of anything but his official utterances--his results. +The picture of Balzac's career which is given in these letters is a +record of little else but painful processes, unrelieved by reflections +or speculations, by any moral or intellectual emanation. To prevent +misconception, however, we hasten to add that they tell no disagreeable +secrets; they contain nothing for the lovers of scandal. Balzac was a +very honest man, but he was a man almost tragically uncomfortable, and +the unsightly underside of his discomfort stares us full in the face. +Still, if his personal portrait is without ideal beauty, it is by no +means without a certain brightness, or at least a certain richness of +coloring. Huge literary ogre as he was, he was morally nothing of a +monster. His heart was capacious, and his affections vigorous; he was +powerful, coarse, and kind. + +The first letter in the series is addressed to his elder sister, Laure, +who afterward became Mme. de Surville, and who, after her illustrious +brother's death, published in a small volume some agreeable +reminiscences of him. For this lady he had, especially in his early +years, a passionate affection. He had in 1819 come up to Paris from +Touraine, in which province his family lived, to seek his fortune as a +man of letters. The episode is a strange and gloomy one. His vocation +for literature had not been favorably viewed at home, where money was +scanty; but the parental consent, or rather the parental tolerance, was +at last obtained for his experiment. The future author of the "Pere +Goriot" was at this time but twenty years of age, and in the way of +symptoms of genius had nothing but a very robust self-confidence to +show. His family, who had to contribute to his support while his +masterpieces were a-making, appear to have regretted, the absence of +further guarantees. He came to Paris, however, and lodged in a garret, +where the allowance made him by his father kept him neither from +shivering nor from nearly starving. The situation had been arranged in a +way very characteristic of French manners. The fact that Honore had gone +to Paris was kept a secret from the friends of the family, who were told +that he was on a visit to a cousin in the South. He was on probation, +and if he failed to acquire literary renown, his excursion should be +hushed up. This pious fraud did not contribute to the comfort of the +young scribbler, who was afraid to venture abroad by day lest he should +be seen by an acquaintance of the family. Balzac must have been at this +time miserably poor. If he goes to the theatre, he has to pay for the +pleasure by fasting. He wishes to see Talma (having to go to the play, +to keep up the fiction of his being in the South, in a latticed box). "I +shall end by giving in.... My stomach already trembles." Meanwhile he +was planning a tragedy of "Cromwell," which came to nothing, and writing +the "Heritiere de Birague," his first novel, which he sold for one +hundred and sixty dollars. Through these early letters, in spite of his +chilly circumstances, there flows a current of youthful ardor, gayety, +and assurance. Some passages in his letters to his sister are a sort of +explosion of animal spirits: + + Ah, my sister, what torments it gives us--the love of glory! + Long live grocers! they sell all day, count their gains in the + evening, take their pleasure from time to time at some + frightful melodrama--and behold them happy! Yes, but they pass + their time between cheese and soap. Long live rather men of + letters! Yes, but these are all beggars in pocket, and rich + only in conceit. Well, let us leave them all alone, and long + live every one! + +Elsewhere he scribbles: "Farewell, _soror_! I hope to have a letter +_sororis_ to answer _sorori_, then to see _sororem_," etc. Later, after +his sister is married, he addresses her as "_the box that contains +everything pleasing; the elixir of virtue, grace, and beauty; the jewel, +the phenomenon of Normandy; the pearl of Bayeux, the fairy of St. +Lawrence, the virgin of the Rue Teinture, the guardian angel of Caen, +the goddess of enchantments, the treasure of friendship_." + +We shall continue to quote, without the fear of our examples exceeding, +in the long run, our commentary. "Find me some widow, a rich heiress," +he writes to his sister at Bayeux, whither her husband had taken her to +live. "You know what I mean. Only brag about me. Twenty-two years old, a +good fellow, good manners, a bright eye, fire, the best dough for a +husband that heaven has ever kneaded. I will give you five per cent. on +the dowry." "Since yesterday," he writes in another letter, "I have +given up dowagers and have come down to widows of thirty. Send all you +find to Lord Rhoone [this remarkable improvisation was one of his early +_noms de plume_]; that's enough--he is known at the city limits. Take +notice. They are to be sent prepaid, without crack or repair, and they +are to be rich and amiable. Beauty isn't required. The varnish goes, and +the bottom of the pot remains!" + +Like many other young men of ability, Balzac felt the little rubs--or +the great ones--of family life. His mother figures largely in these +volumes (she survived her glorious son), and from the scattered +reflection of her idiosyncrasies the attentive reader constructs a +sufficiently vivid portrait. She was the old middle-class Frenchwoman +whom he has so often seen--devoted, active, meddlesome, parsimonious, +exacting veneration, and expending zeal. Honore tells his sister: + + The other day, coming back from Paris much bothered, it never + occurred to me to thank _maman_ for a black coat which she had + had made for me; at my age one isn't particularly sensitive to + such a present. Nevertheless, it would not have cost me much to + seem touched by the attention, especially as it was a + sacrifice. But I forgot it. _Maman_ began to pout, and you know + what her aspect and her face amount to at those moments. I fell + from the clouds, and racked my brain to know what I had done. + Happily Laurence [his younger sister] came and notified me, + and two or three words as fine as amber mended _maman's_ + countenance. The thing is nothing--a mere drop of water; but + it's to give you an example of our manners. Ah, we are a jolly + set of originals in our holy family. What a pity I can't put us + into novels! + +His father wished to find him an opening in some profession, and the +thought of being made a notary was a bugbear to the young man: "Think of +me as dead, if they cap me with that extinguisher." And yet, in the next +sentence, he breaks out into a cry of desolate disgust at the aridity of +his actual circumstances: "They call this mechanical rotation +living--this perpetual return of the same things. If there were only +something to throw some charm or other over my cold existence. I have +none of the flowers of life, and yet I am in the season in which they +bloom. What will be the use of fortune and pleasures when my youth has +departed? What need of the garments of an actor if one no longer plays a +part? An old man is a man who has dined, and who watches others eat; and +I, young as I am--my plate is empty, and I am hungry. Laure, Laure, my +two only and immense desires, _to be famous and to be loved_--will they +ever be satisfied?" + +These occasional bursts of confidence in his early letters to his sister +are (with the exception of certain excellent pages, addressed in the +last years of his life to the lady he eventually married) Balzac's most +delicate, most emotional utterances. There is a touch of the ideal in +them. Later, one wonders where he keeps his ideal. He has one of course, +artistically, but it never peeps out. He gives up talking sentiment, and +he never discusses "subjects"; he only talks business. Meanwhile, +however, at this period, business was increasing with him. He agrees to +write three novels for eight hundred and twenty dollars. Here begins the +inextricable mystery of Balzac's literary promises, pledges, projects, +and contracts. His letters form a swarming register of schemes and +bargains through which he passes like a hero of the circus, riding half +a dozen piebald coursers at once. We confess that in this matter we have +been able to keep no sort of account; the wonder is that Balzac should +have accomplished the feat himself. After the first year or two of his +career, we never see him working upon a single tale; his productions +dovetail and overlap, and dance attendance upon each other in the most +bewildering fashion. As soon as one novel is fairly on the stocks he +plunges into another, and while he is rummaging in this with one hand, +he stretches out a heroic arm and breaks ground in a third. His plans +are always vastly in advance of his performance; his pages swarm with +titles of books that were never to be written. The title circulates with +such an assurance that we are amazed to find, fifty pages later, that +there is no more of it than of the cherubic heads. With this, Balzac was +constantly paid in advance by his publishers--paid for works not begun, +or barely begun; and the money was as constantly spent before the +equivalent had been delivered. Meanwhile more money was needed, and new +novels were laid out to obtain it; but prior promises had first to be +kept. Keeping them, under these circumstances, was not an exhilarating +process; and readers familiar with Balzac will reflect with wonder that +these were yet the circumstances in which some of his best tales were +written. They were written, as it were, in the fading light, by a man +who saw night coming on, and yet couldn't afford to buy candles. He +could only hurry. But Balzac's way of hurrying was all his own; it was a +sternly methodical haste, and might have been mistaken, in a more +lightly-weighted genius, for elaborate trifling. The close tissue of his +work never relaxed; he went on doggedly and insistently, pressing it +down and packing it together, multiplying erasures, alterations, +repetitions, transforming proof-sheets, quarrelling with editors, +enclosing subject within subject, accumulating notes upon notes. + +The letters make a jump from 1822 to 1827, during which interval he had +established, with borrowed capital, a printing house, and seen his +enterprise completely fail. This failure saddled him with a mountain of +debt which pressed upon him crushingly for years, and of which he rid +himself only toward the close of his life. Balzac's debts are another +labyrinth in which we do not profess to hold a clue. There is scarcely a +page of these volumes in which they are not alluded to, but the reader +never quite understands why they should bloom so perennially. The +liabilities incurred by the collapse of the printing scheme can hardly +have been so vast as not to have been for the most part cancelled by ten +years of heroic work. Balzac appears not to have been extravagant; he +had neither wife nor children (unlike many of his comrades, he had no +illegitimate offspring), and when he admits us to a glimpse of his +domestic economy, we usually find it to be of a very meagre pattern. He +writes to his sister in 1827 that he has not the means either to pay the +postage of letters or to use omnibuses, and that he goes out as little +as possible, so as not to wear out his clothes. In 1829, however, we +find him in correspondence with a duchess, Mme. d'Abrantes, the widow of +Junot, Napoleon's rough marshal, and author of those voluminous memoirs +upon the imperial court which it was the fashion to read in the early +part of the century. The Duchess d'Abrantes wrote bad novels, like +Balzac himself at this period, and the two became good friends. + +The year 1830 was the turning point in Balzac's career. Renown, to which +he had begun to lay siege in Paris in 1820, now at last began to show +symptoms of self-surrender. Yet one of the strongest expressions of +discontent and despair in the pages before us belongs to this brighter +moment. It is also one of the finest passages: + + Sacredieu, my good friend, I believe that literature, in the + day we live in, is no better than the trade of a woman of the + town, who prostitutes herself for a dollar. It leads to + nothing. I have an itch to go off and wander and explore, make + of my life a drama, risk my life; for, as for a few miserable + years more or less!... Oh, when one looks at these great skies + of a beautiful night, one is ready to unbutton---- + +But the modesty of the English tongue forbids us to translate the rest +of the phrase. Dean Swift might have related how Balzac wished to +express his contempt for all the royalties of the earth. Now that he is +in the country, he goes on: + + I have been seeing real splendors, such as fine, sound fruit + and gilded insects; I have been quite turning philosopher, and + if I happen to tread upon an anthill, I say, like that immortal + Bonaparte, "These creatures are men: what is it to Saturn, or + Venus, or the North Star?" And then my philosopher comes down + to scribble "items" for a newspaper. _Proh pudor!_ And so it + seems to me that the ocean, a brig, and an English vessel to + sink, if you must sink yourself to do it, are rather better + than a writing-desk, a pen, and the Rue St. Denis. + +But Balzac was fastened to the writing desk. In 1831 he tells one of his +correspondents that he is working fifteen or sixteen hours a day. Later, +in 1837, he describes himself repeatedly as working eighteen hours out +of the twenty-four. In the midst of all this (it seems singular), he +found time for visions of public life, of political distinction. In a +letter written in 1830 he gives a succinct statement of his political +views, from which we learn that he approved of the French monarchy +having a constitution, and of instruction being diffused among the lower +orders. But he desired that the people should be kept "under the most +powerful yoke possible," so that in spite of their instruction they +should not become disorderly. It is fortunate, probably, both for Balzac +and for France, that his political role was limited to the production of +a certain number of forgotten editorials in newspapers; but we may be +sure that his dreams of statesmanship were brilliant and audacious. +Balzac indulged in no dreams that were not. + +Some of his best letters are addressed to Mme. Zulma Carraud, a lady +whose acquaintance he had made through his sister Laure, of whom she +was an intimate friend, and whose friendship (exerted almost wholly +through letters, as she always lived in the country) appears to have +been one of the brightest and most salutary influences of his life. He +writes to her in 1832: + + There are vocations which we must obey, and something + irresistible draws me on to glory and power. It is not a happy + life. There is within me the worship of woman (_le culte de la + femme_), and a need of love which has never been fully + satisfied. Despairing of ever being loved and understood by + such a woman as I have dreamed of, having met her only under + one form, that of the heart, I throw myself into the + tempestuous sphere of political passions and into the stormy + and desiccating atmosphere of literary glory. I shall fail + perhaps on both sides; but, believe me, if I have wished to + live the life of the age itself, instead of running my course + in happy obscurity, it is just because the pure happiness of + mediocrity has failed me. When one has a fortune to make, it is + better to make it great and illustrious; because, pain for + pain, it is better to suffer in a high sphere than in a low + one, and I prefer dagger blows to pin pricks. + +All this, though written at thirty years of age, is rather juvenile; +there was to be much less of the "tempest" in Balzac's life than is here +foreshadowed. He was tossed and shaken a great deal, as we all are, by +the waves of the time, but he was too stoutly anchored at his work to +feel the winds. + +In 1832 "Louis Lambert" followed the "Peau de Chagrin," the first in the +long list of his masterpieces. He describes "Louis Lambert" as "a work +in which I have striven to rival Goethe and Byron, Faust and Manfred. I +don't know whether I shall succeed, but the fourth volume of the +'Philosophical Tales' must be a last reply to my enemies and give the +presentiment of an incontestable superiority. You must therefore forgive +the poor artist his fatigue [he is writing to his sister], his +discouragements, and especially his momentary detachment from any sort +of interest that does not belong to his subject. 'Louis Lambert' has +cost me so much work! To write this book I have had to read so many +books! Some day or other, perhaps, it will throw science into new paths. +If I had made it a purely learned work, it would have attracted the +attention of thinkers, who now will not drop their eyes upon it. But if +chance puts it into their hands, perhaps they will speak of it!" In this +passage there is an immense deal of Balzac--of the great artist who was +so capable at times of self-deceptive charlatanism. "Louis Lambert," as +a whole, is now quite unreadable; it contains some admirable +descriptions, but the "scientific" portion is mere fantastic verbiage. +There is something extremely characteristic in the way Balzac speaks of +its having been optional with him to make it a "purely learned" work. +His pretentiousness was simply colossal, and there is nothing surprising +in his wearing the mask even _en famille_ (the letter we have just +quoted from is, as we have said, to his sister); he wore it during his +solitary fifteen-hours sessions in his study. But the same letter +contains another passage, of a very different sort, which is in its way +as characteristic: + + Yes, you are right. My progress is real, and my infernal + courage will be rewarded. Persuade my mother of this too, dear + sister; tell her to give me her patience in charity; her + devotion will be laid up in her favor. One day, I hope, a + little glory will pay her for everything. Poor mother, that + imagination of hers which she has given me throws her for ever + from north to south and from south to north. Such journeys tire + us; I know it myself! Tell my mother that I love her as when I + was a child. As I write you these lines my tears start--tears + of tenderness and despair; for I feel the future, and I need + this devoted mother on the day of triumph! When shall I reach + it? Take good care of our mother, Laure, for the present and + the future.... Some day, when my works are unfolded, you will + see that it must have taken many hours to think and write so + many things; and then you will absolve me of everything that + has displeased you, and you will excuse, not the selfishness of + the man (the man has none), but the selfishness of the worker. + +Nothing can be more touching than that; Balzac's natural affections were +as robust as his genius and his physical nature. The impression of the +reader of his letters quite confirms his assurance that the man proper +had no selfishness. Only we are constantly reminded that the man had +almost wholly resolved himself into the worker, and we remember a +statement of Sainte-Beuve's, in one of his malignant foot-notes, to the +effect that Balzac was "the grossest, greediest example of literary +vanity that he had ever known"--_l'amour-propre litteraire le plus avide +et le plus grossier que j'aie connu_. When we think of what Sainte-Beuve +must have known in this line, these few words acquire a portentous +weight. + +By this time (1832) Balzac was, in French phrase, thoroughly _lance_. He +was doing, among other things, some of his most brilliant work, certain +of the "Contes Drolatiques." These were written, as he tells his mother, +for relaxation, as a rest from harder labor. One would have said that no +work would have been much harder than compounding the marvellously +successful imitation of mediaeval French in which these tales are +written. He had, however, other diversions as well. In the autumn of +1832 he was at Aix-les-Bains with the Duchess of Castries, a great lady, +and one of his kindest friends. He has been accused of drawing portraits +of great ladies without knowledge of originals; but Mme. de Castries was +an inexhaustible fund of instruction upon this subject. Three or four +years later, speaking of the story of the "Duchesse de Laugeais" to one +of his correspondents, another _femme du monde_, he tells her that as a +_femme du monde_ she is not to pretend to find flaws in the picture, a +high authority having read the proofs for the express purpose of +removing them. The authority is evidently the Duchess of Castries. + +Balzac writes to Mme. Carraud from Aix: "At Lyons I corrected 'Lambert' +again. I licked my cub, like a she bear.... On the whole, I am +satisfied; it is a work of profound melancholy and of science. Truly, I +deserve to have a mistress, and my sorrow at not having one increases +daily; for love is my life and my essence.... I have a simple little +room," he goes on, "from which I see the whole valley. I rise pitilessly +at five o'clock in the morning, and work before my window until +half-past five in the evening. My breakfast comes from the club--an egg. +Mme. de Castries has good coffee made for me. At six o'clock we dine +together, and I pass the evening with her. She is the finest type (_le +type le plus fin_) of woman; Mme. de Beauseant [from "Le Pere Goriot"] +improved; only, are not all these pretty manners acquired at the expense +of the soul?" + +During his stay at Aix he met an excellent opportunity to go to Italy; +the Duke de Fitz-James, who was travelling southward, invited him to +become a member of his party. He discourses the economical problem (in +writing to his mother) with his usual intensity, and throws what will +seem to the modern traveller the light of enchantment upon that golden +age of cheapness. Occupying the fourth place in the carriage of the +Duchess of Castries, his quarter of the total travelling expenses from +Geneva to Rome (carriage, beds, food, etc.) was to be fifty dollars! But +he was ultimately prevented from joining the party. He went to Italy +some years later. + +He mentions, in 1833, that the chapter entitled "Juana," in the superb +tale of "The Maranas," as also the story of "La Grenadiere," was written +in a single night. He gives at the same period this account of his +habits of work: "I must tell you that I am up to my neck in excessive +work. My life is mechanically arranged. I go to bed at six or seven in +the evening, with the chickens; I wake up at one in the morning and work +till eight; then I take something light, a cup of pure coffee, and get +into the shafts of my cab until four; I receive, I take a bath, or I go +out, and after dinner I go to bed. I must lead this life for some months +longer, in order not to be overwhelmed by my obligations. The profit +comes slowly; my debts are inexorable and fixed. Now, it is certain that +I will make a great fortune; but I must wait for it, and work for three +years. I must go over things, correct them again, put everything _en +etat monumental_; thankless work, not counted, without immediate +profit." He speaks of working at this amazing rate for three years +longer; in reality he worked for fifteen. But two years after the +declaration we have just quoted, it seemed to him that he should break +down: "My poor sister, I am draining the cup to the dregs. It is in vain +that I work my fourteen hours a day; I can't do enough. While I write +this to you I find myself so weary that I have just sent Auguste to take +back my word from certain engagements that I had formed. I am so weak +that I have advanced my dinner hour in order to go to bed earlier; and I +go nowhere." The next year he writes to his mother, who had apparently +complained of his silence: "My good mother, do me the charity to let me +carry my burden without suspecting my heart. A letter for me, you see, +is not only money, but an hour of sleep and a drop of blood." + +We spoke just now of Balzac's sentimental consolations; but it appears +that at times he was more acutely conscious of what he missed than of +what he enjoyed. "As for the soul," he writes to Mme. Carraud in 1833, +"I am profoundly sad. My work alone sustains me in life. Is there then +to be no woman for me in this world? My physical melancholy and _ennui_ +last longer and grow more frequent. To fall from this crushing labor to +nothing--not to have near me that soft, caressing mind of woman, for +whom I have done so much!" He had, however, a devoted feminine friend, +to whom none of the letters in these volumes are addressed, but who is +several times alluded to. This lady, Mme. de Berny, died in 1836, and +Balzac speaks of her ever afterward with extraordinary tenderness and +veneration. But if there had been a passion between them, it was only a +passionate friendship. "Ah, my dear mother," he writes on New Year's +day, 1836, "I am harrowed with grief. Mme. de Berny is dying; it is +impossible to doubt it. No one but God and myself knows what my despair +is. And I must work--work while I weep!" He writes of Mme. de Berny at +the time of her death as follows. The letter is addressed to a lady with +whom he was in correspondence more or less sentimental, but whom he +never saw: "The person whom I have lost was more than a mother, more +than a friend, more than any creature can be for another. The term +_divinity_ only can explain her. She had sustained me by word, by act, +by devotion, during my worst weather. If I live, it is by her; she was +everything for me. Although for two years illness and time had separated +us, we were visible at a distance for each other. She reacted upon me; +she was a moral sun. Mme. de Mortsauf, in the 'Lys dans la Vallee,' is a +pale expression of this person's slightest qualities." Three years +afterward he writes to his sister: "I am alone against all my troubles, +and formerly, to help me to resist them, I had with me the sweetest and +bravest person in the world; a woman who every day is born again in my +heart, and whose divine qualities make the friendships that are compared +with hers seem pale. I have now no adviser in my literary difficulties; +I have no guide but the fatal thought, 'What would she say if she were +living?'" And he goes on to enumerate some of his actual and potential +friends. He tells his sister that she herself might have been for him a +close intellectual comrade if her duties of wife and mother had not +given her too many other things to think about. The same is true of Mme. +Carraud: "Never has a more extraordinary mind been more smothered; she +will die in her corner unknown! George Sand," he continues, "would +speedily be my friend; she has no pettiness whatever in her soul--none +of the low jealousies which obscure so many contemporary talents. Dumas +resembles her in this; but she has not the critical sense. Mme. Hanska +is all this; but I cannot weigh upon her destiny." Mme. Hanska was the +Polish lady whom he ultimately married, and of whom we shall speak. +Meanwhile, for a couple of years (1836 and 1837), he carried on an +exchange of opinions, of the order that the French call _intimes_, with +the unseen correspondent to whom we have alluded, and who figures in +these volumes as "Louise." The letters, however, are not love letters; +Balzac, indeed, seems chiefly occupied in calming the ardor of the lady, +who was evidently a woman of social distinction. "Don't have any +friendship for me," he writes; "I need too much. Like all people who +struggle, suffer, and work, I am exacting, mistrustful, wilful, +capricious.... If I had been a woman, I should have loved nothing so +much as some soul buried like a well in the desert--discovered only when +you place yourself directly under the star which indicates it to the +thirsty Arab." + +His first letter to Mme. Hanska here given bears the date of 1835; but +we are informed in a note that he had at that moment been for some time +in correspondence with her. The correspondence had begun, if we are not +mistaken, on Mme. Hanska's side, before they met; she had written to him +as a literary admirer. She was a Polish lady of great fortune, with an +invalid husband. After her husband's death, projects of marriage defined +themselves more vividly, but practical considerations kept them for a +long time in the background. Balzac had first to pay off his debts, and +Mme. Hanska, as a Polish subject of the Czar Nicholas, was not in a +position to marry from one day to another. The growth of their intimacy +is, however, amply reflected in these volumes, and the denouement +presents itself with a certain dramatic force. Balzac's letters to his +future wife, as to every one else, deal almost exclusively with his +financial situation. He discusses the details of this matter with all +his correspondents, who apparently have--or are expected to have--his +monetary entanglements at their fingers' ends. It is a constant +enumeration of novels and tales begun or delivered, revised or bargained +for. The tone is always profoundly sombre and bitter. The reader's +general impression is that of lugubrious egotism. It is the rarest thing +in the world that there is an allusion to anything but Balzac's own +affairs, and to the most sordid details of his own affairs. Hardly an +echo of the life of his time, of the world he lived in, finds its way +into his letters; there are no anecdotes, no impressions, no opinions, +no descriptions, no allusions to things heard, people seen, emotions +felt--other emotions, at least, than those of the exhausted or the +exultant worker. The reason of all this is of course very obvious. A man +could not be such a worker as Balzac and be much else besides. The note +of animal spirits which we observed in his early letters is sounded much +less frequently as time goes on; although the extraordinary robustness +and exuberance of his temperament plays richly into his books. The +"Contes Drolatiques" are full of it, and his conversation was also full +of it. But the letters constantly show us a man with the edge of his +spontaneity gone--a man groaning and sighing, as from Promethean lungs, +complaining of his tasks, denouncing his enemies, and in complete ill +humor generally with life. Of any expression of enjoyment of the world, +of the beauties of nature, art, literature, history, human character, +these pages are singularly destitute. And yet we know that such +enjoyment--instinctive, unreasoning, essential--is half the inspiration +of the poet. The truth is that Balzac was as little as possible of a +poet; he often speaks of himself as one, but he deserved the name as +little as his own Canalis or his own Rubempre. He was neither a poet nor +a moralist, though the latter title in France is often bestowed upon +him--a fact which strikingly helps to illustrate the Gallic lightness of +soil in the moral region. Balzac was the hardest and deepest of +_prosateurs_; the earth-scented facts of life, which the poet puts under +his feet, he had put above his head. Obviously there went on within him +a vast and constant intellectual unfolding. His mind must have had a +history of its own--a history of which it would be most interesting to +have an occasional glimpse. But the history is not related here, even in +glimpses. His books are full of ideas; his letters have almost none. It +is probably not unfair to argue from this fact that there were few ideas +that he greatly cared for. Making all allowance for the pressure and +tyranny of circumstances, we may believe that if he had greatly cared to +_se recueillir_, as the French say--greatly cared, in the Miltonic +phrase, "to interpose a little ease"--he would sometimes have found an +opportunity for it. Perpetual work, when it is joyous and salubrious, is +a very fine thing; but perpetual work, when it is executed with the +temper which more than half the time appears to have been Balzac's, has +in it something almost debasing. We constantly feel that his work would +have been vastly better if the Muse of "business" had been elbowed away +by her larger-browed sister. Balzac himself, doubtless, often felt in +the same way; but, on the whole, "business" was what he most cared for. +The "Comedie Humaine" represents an immense amount of joy, of +spontaneity, of irrepressible artistic life. Here and there in the +letters this occasionally breaks out in accents of mingled exultation +and despair. "Never," he writes in 1836, "has the torrent which bears me +along been more rapid; never has a work more majestically terrible +imposed itself upon the human brain. I go to my work as the gamester to +the gaming-table; I am sleeping now only five hours and working +eighteen; I shall arrive dead.... Write to me; be generous; take nothing +in bad part, for you don't know how, at moments, I deplore this life of +fire. But how can I jump out of the chariot?" We had occasion in +writing of Balzac in these pages more than a year ago[2] to say that his +great characteristic, far from being a passion for ideas, was a passion +for _things_. We said just now that his books are full of ideas; but we +must add that his letters make us feel that these ideas are themselves +in a certain sense "things." They are pigments, properties, frippery; +they are always concrete and available. Balzac cared for them only if +they would fit into his inkstand. + +He never "jumped out of his car"; but as the years went on he was able +at times to let the reins hang more loosely. There is no evidence that +he made the great fortune he had looked forward to; but he must have +made a great deal of money. In the beginning his work was very poorly +paid, but after his reputation was solidly established he received large +sums. It is true that they were swallowed up in great part by his +"debts"--that dusky, vaguely outlined, insatiable maw which we see +grimacing for ever behind him, like the face on a fountain which should +find itself receiving a stream instead of giving it out. But he +travelled (working all the while en route). He went to Italy, to +Germany, to Russia; he built houses, he bought pictures and pottery. One +of his journeys illustrates his singular mixture of economic and +romantic impulses. He made a breathless pilgrimage to the island of +Sardinia to examine the scoriae of certain silver mines, anciently worked +by the Romans, in which he had heard that the metal was still to be +found. The enterprise was fantastic and impracticable; but he pushed his +excursion through night and day, as he had written the "Pere Goriot." In +his relative prosperity, when once it was established, there are strange +lapses and stumbling-places. After he had built and was living in his +somewhat fantastical villa of Les Jardies at Sevres, close to Paris, he +invites a friend to stay with him on these terms: "I can take you to +board at forty sous a day, and for thirty-five francs you will have +fire-wood enough for a month." In his joke he is apt to betray the same +preoccupation. Inviting Charles de Bernard and his wife to come to Les +Jardies to help him arrange his books, he adds that they will have fifty +sous a day and their wine. He is constantly talking of his expenses, of +what he spends in cab hire and postage. His letters to the Countess +Hanska are filled with these details. "Yesterday I was running about all +day: twenty-five francs for carriages!" The man of business is never +absent. For the first representations of his plays he arranges his +audiences with an eye to effect, like an _impresario_ or an agent. In +the boxes, for "Vautrin," "I insist upon there being handsome women." +Presenting a copy of the "Comedie Humaine" to the Austrian ambassador, +he accompanies it with a letter calling attention, in the most elaborate +manner, to the typographical beauty and the cheapness of the work; the +letter reads like a prospectus or an advertisement. + +In 1840 (he was forty years old) he thought seriously of marriage--with +this remark as the preface to the announcement: "_Je ne veux plus avoir +de coeur!..._ If you meet a young girl of twenty-two," he goes on, +"with a fortune of 200,000 francs, or even of 100,000, provided it can +be used in business, you will think of me. I want a woman who shall be +able to be what the events of my life may demand of her--the wife of an +ambassador, or a housewife at Les Jardies. But don't speak of this; it's +a secret. She must be an ambitious, clever girl." This project, however, +was not carried out; Balzac had no time to marry. But his friendship +with Mme. Hanska became more and more absorbing, and though their +project of marriage, which was executed in 1850, was kept a profound +secret until after the ceremony, it is apparent that they had had it a +long time in their thoughts. + +For this lady Balzac's esteem and admiration seem to have been +unbounded; and his letters to her, which in the second volume are very +numerous, contain many noble and delicate passages. "You know too well," +he says to her somewhere, with a happy choice of words belonging to the +writer, whose diction was here and there as felicitous as it was +generally intolerable--"_Vous savez trop bien que tout ce qui n'est pas +vous n'est que surface, sottise et vains palliatifs de l'absence._" "You +must be proud of your children," he writes to his sister from Poland; +"such daughters are the recompense of your life. You must not be unjust +to destiny; you may now accept many misfortunes. It is like myself with +Mme. Hanska. The gift of her affection explains all my troubles, my +weariness, and my toil; I was paying to evil, in advance, the price of +such a treasure. As Napoleon said, we pay for everything here below; +nothing is stolen. It seems to me that I have paid very little. +Twenty-five years of toil and struggle are nothing as the purchase money +of an attachment so splendid, so radiant, so complete." + +Mme. Hanska appears to have come rarely to Paris, and when she came to +have shrouded her visits in mystery; but Balzac arranged several +meetings with her abroad, and visited her at St. Petersburg and on her +Polish estates. He was devotedly fond of her children, and the tranquil, +opulent family life to which she introduced him appears to have been one +of the greatest pleasures he had known. In several passages which, for +Balzac, may be called graceful and playful, he expresses his +homesickness for her chairs and tables, her books, the sight of her +dresses. Here is something, in one of his letters to her, which is worth +quoting: "In short, this is the game that I play; four men will have +had, in this century, an immense influence--Napoleon, Cuvier, O'Connell. +I should like to be the fourth. The first lived on the blood of Europe; +_il s'est inocule des armees_; the second espoused the globe; the third +became the incarnation of a people; I--I shall have carried a whole +society in my head. But there will have been in me a much greater and +much happier being than the writer--and that is your slave. My feeling +is finer, grander, more complete, than all the satisfactions of vanity +or of glory. Without this plenitude of the heart I should never have +accomplished the tenth part of my work; I should not have had this +ferocious courage." During a few days spent at Berlin, on his way back +from St. Petersburg, he gives his impressions of the "capital of +Brandenburg" in a tone which almost seems to denote a prevision of the +style of allusion to this locality and its inhabitants which was to +become fashionable among his countrymen thirty years later. Balzac +detested Prussia and the Prussians. + + It is owing to this charlatanism [the spacious distribution of + the streets, etc.] that Berlin has a more populous look than + Petersburg; I would have said "more animated" look if I had + been speaking of another people; but the Prussian, with his + brutal heaviness, will never be able to do anything but crush. + To produce the movement of a great European capital you must + have less beer and bad tobacco, and more of the French or + Italian spirit; or else you must have the great industrial and + commercial ideas which have produced the gigantic development + of London; but Berlin and its inhabitants will never be + anything but an ugly little city, inhabited by an ugly big + people. + +"I have seen Tieck _en famille_," he says in another letter. "He seemed +pleased with my homage. He had an old countess, his contemporary in +spectacles, almost an octogenarian--a mummy with a green eye-shade, whom +I supposed to be a domestic divinity.... I am at home again; it is +half-past six in the evening, and I have eaten nothing since this +morning. Berlin is the city of _ennui_; I should die here in a week. +Poor Humboldt is dying of it; he drags with him everywhere his nostalgia +for Paris." + +Balzac passed the winter of 1848-'49 and several months more at +Vierzschovnia, the Polish estate of Mme. Hanska and her children. His +health had been gravely impaired, and the doctors had absolutely +forbidden him to work. His inexhaustible and indefatigable brain had at +last succumbed to fatigue. But the prize was gained; his debts were +paid; he was looking forward to owning at last the money that he should +make. He could afford--relatively speaking at least--to rest. His fame +had been solidly built up; the public recognized his greatness. Already, +in 1846, he had written: "You will learn with pleasure, I am sure, that +there is an immense reaction in my favor. At last I have conquered! Once +more my protecting star has watched over me.... At this moment the +public and the papers turn toward me favorably; more than that, there is +a sort of acclamation, a general consecration.... It is a great year for +me, dear Countess." + +To be ill and kept from work was, for Balzac, to be a chained +Prometheus; but there was much during these last months to alleviate his +impatience. His letters at this period are easier, less painfully +preoccupied than at any other; and he found in Poland better medical +advice than he deemed obtainable in Paris. He was preparing a house in +Paris to receive him as a married man--preparing it apparently with +great splendor. At Les Jardies the pictures and divans and tapestries +had mostly been nominal--had been present only in grand names, chalked +grotesquely upon the empty walls. But during the last years of his life +Balzac appears to have been a great collector. He bought many pictures +and other objects of value; in particular, there figures in these +letters a certain set of Florentine furniture which he was willing to +sell again, but to sell only to a royal purchaser. The King of Holland +appears to have been in treaty for it. Readers of the "Comedie Humaine" +have no need to be reminded of the author's passion for furniture; +nowhere else are there such loving or such invidious descriptions of it. +"Decidedly," he writes once to Mme. Hanska, "I will send to Tours for +the Louis XVI. secretary and bureau; the room will then be complete. +It's a matter of a thousand francs; but for a thousand francs what can +one get in modern furniture? _Des platitudes bourgeoises, des miseres +sans valeur et sans gout._" + +Old Mme. de Balzac was her son's factotum and universal agent. His +letters from Vierzschovnia are filled with prescriptions of activity for +his mother, accompanied always with the urgent reminder that she is to +use cabs _ad libitum_. He goes into the minutest details (she was +overlooking the preparation of his house in the Rue Fortunee, which must +have been converted into a very picturesque residence): "The carpet in +the dining-room must certainly be readjusted. Try and make M. Henry send +his carpet-layer. I owe that man a good _pour-boire_; he laid all the +carpets, and I once was rough with him. You must tell him that in +September he can come and get his present. I want particularly to give +it to him myself." + +His mother occasionally annoyed him by unreasonable exactions and +untimely interferences. There is an episode of a letter which she writes +to him at Vierzschovnia, and which, coming to Mme. Hanska's knowledge, +endangers his prospect of marriage. He complains bitterly to his sister +that his mother _cannot_ get it out of her head that he is still fifteen +years old. But there is something very touching in his constant +tenderness toward her--as well as something very characteristically +French--very characteristic of the French sentiment of family +consistency and solidarity--in the way in which, by constantly counting +upon her practical aptitude and zeal, he makes her a fellow worker +toward the great total of his fame and fortune. At fifty years of age, +at the climax of his distinction, announcing to her his brilliant +marriage, he signs himself _Ton fils soumis_. To his old friend Mme. +Carraud he speaks thus of this same event: "The denouement of that +great and beautiful drama of the heart which has lasted these sixteen +years.... Three days ago I married the only woman I have loved, whom I +loved more than ever, and whom I shall love until death. I believe that +this union is the recompense that God has held in reserve for me through +so many adversities, years of work, difficulties suffered and +surmounted. I had neither a happy youth nor a flowering spring; I shall +have the most brilliant summer, the sweetest of all autumns." It had +been, as Balzac says, a drama of the heart, and the denouement was of +the heart alone. Mme. Hanska, on her marriage, made over her large +fortune to her daughter. + +Balzac had at last found rest and happiness, but his enjoyment of these +blessings was brief. The energy that he had expended to gain them left +nothing behind it. His terrible industry had blasted the soil it passed +over; he had sacrificed to his work the very things he worked for. One +cannot do what Balzac did and live. He was enfeebled, exhausted, broken. +He died in Paris three months after his marriage. The reader feels that +premature death is the logical, the harmonious completion of such a +career. The strongest man has but a certain fixed quantity of life to +expend, and we may expect that if he works habitually fifteen hours a +day, he will spend it while, arithmetically speaking, he is yet young. + +We have been struck in reading these letters with the strong analogy +between Balzac's career and that of the great English writer whose +history was some time since so expansively written by Mr. Forster. +Dickens and Balzac take much in common; as individuals they strongly +resemble each other; their differences are chiefly differences of race. +Each was a man of affairs, an active, practical man, with a temperament +of almost phenomenal vigor and a prodigious quantity of life to expend. +Each had a character and a will--what is nowadays called a +personality--which imposed themselves irresistibly; each had a +boundless self-confidence and a magnificent egotism. Each had always a +hundred irons on the fire; each was resolutely determined to make money, +and made it in large quantities. In intensity of imaginative power, the +power of evoking visible objects and figures, seeing them themselves +with the force of hallucination, and making others see them all but just +as vividly, they were almost equal. Here there is little to choose +between them; they have had no rivals but each other and Shakespeare. +But they most of all resemble each other in the fact that they treated +their extraordinary imaginative force as a matter of business; that they +worked it as a gold mine, violently and brutally; overworked and ravaged +it. They succumbed to the task that they had laid upon themselves, and +they are as similar in their deaths as in their lives. Of course, if +Dickens is an English Balzac, he is a very English Balzac. His fortune +was the easier of the two, and his prizes were greater than the other's. +His brilliant opulent English prosperity, centred in a home and diffused +through a progeny, is in strong contrast with the almost scholastic +penury and obscurity of much of Balzac's career. But the analogy is +still very striking. + +In speaking formerly of Balzac in these pages we insisted upon the fact +that he lacked charm; but we said that our last word upon him should be +that he had incomparable power. His letters only confirm these +impressions, and above all they deepen our sense of his strength. They +contain little that is delicate, and not a great deal that is positively +agreeable; but they express an energy before which we stand lost in +wonder, in an admiration that almost amounts to awe. The fact that his +devouring observation of the great human spectacle has no echo in his +letters only makes us feel how concentrated and how intense was the +labor that went on in his closet. Certainly no solider intellectual work +has ever been achieved by man. And in spite of the massive egotism, the +personal absoluteness, to which these pages testify, they leave us with +a downright kindness for the author. He was coarse, but he was tender; +he was corrupt in a way, but he was hugely natural. If he was +ungracefully eager and voracious, awkwardly blind to all things that did +not contribute to his personal plan, at least his egotism was exerted in +a great cause. The "Comedie Humaine" has a thousand faults, but it is a +monumental excuse. + + HENRY JAMES, JR. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Paris: Calmann Levy. 1876. + +[2] December, 1875. + + + + +LOVE'S REQUIEM. + + + I. + + Bring withered autumn leaves! + Call everything that grieves, + And build a funeral pyre above his head! + Heap there all golden promise that deceives, + Beauty that wins the heart and then bereaves-- + For love is dead. + + + II. + + Not slowly did he die! + A meteor from the sky + Falls not so swiftly as his spirit fled; + When with regretful, half-averted eye + He gave one little smile, one little sigh-- + And so was sped. + + + III. + + But, oh, not yet, not yet + Can my lost soul forget + How beautiful he was while he did live; + Or, when his eyes were dewy and lips wet, + What kisses, tenderer than all regret, + My love would give! + + + IV. + + Strew roses on his breast! + He loved the roses best; + He never cared for lilies or for snow. + Let be this bitter end of his sweet quest! + Let be the pallid silence that is rest-- + And let all go! + + WILLIAM WINTER. + + + + +STORY OF A LION. + + +When Smith's Circus and Menagerie Combination Company went to Utica +James Rounders was a lusty fellow of twenty, of some natural sagacity, +and no school education. An interest in wild beasts had been developing +in him for several years, and the odor of sawdust had become grateful to +his nostrils. It was, however, only one kind of wild beast with which he +was especially occupied. The quadruped of the noble aspect, stately +gait, and tremendous roar--the lion--was the animal of Rounders's +predilection and the object of his study. + +He had gotten together some leading facts--so far as the stories of +lion-killers may be regarded as such--concerning his favorite animal. He +had heard how a lion had galloped off from the suburbs of the Cape of +Good Hope with a two years' old heifer in his mouth, and jumped over a +hedge twelve feet high, taking his burden over with him. In the same +region of southern Africa another lion was seen bearing off a horse at a +canter, the neck in his mouth and the body slung behind across his back. +According to one who hunted the animal in the interior of Africa, a lion +one day sprang on an ox, his hind feet on the quarters, his fore feet +about the horns, and drew the head backward with such force as to break +the back of the animal. On another occasion the same hunter saw a lion +who took a heifer in his mouth, and though its legs trailed on the +ground, he carried it off as a cat would a rat, and jumped across a wide +ditch without difficulty. These accounts of the lion's strength were +articles of faith with James Rounders. He had been told that the royal +Bengal tiger of Asia was the equal in strength, if not the superior, of +the African lion, he having been known to smash the head of a bullock by +a single blow of his paw; but this Rounders did not believe. + +He read with some difficulty, moving his lips as he did so, in order to +get the matter clearly before his mind. He regarded it as a laborious +task, and would sooner have chopped a cord of wood than read for half an +hour. Notwithstanding the irksomeness of reading, there were two books +which led him conscientiously through their pages to the end--those of +Gordon Cumming and Jules Gerard on the hunting and killing of lions. The +two volumes comprised his library, and furnished his mind with all the +literary nutriment which it required. + +Rounders went to the opening performance of Smith's Circus and Menagerie +Combination Company. The ground leading up to the front of the canvas +was garnished in the usual way. There were two small parasitic tents +near the great one, on which primitive pictures hung of the woman of +enormous girth and the calf with six legs. A man stood at the flap +entrance of each, inviting people to enter and see these wonders of +nature for a moderate sum. Near by was the lemonade wagon, whose +proprietor was handing out glasses of his fluid with a briskness that +showed that many were athirst. + +When he entered the great tent the brass band was blowing blatantly, +four cavaliers in rusty spangles and four dowdy women were riding round +the ring, going through the old-time preliminary called the grand entry; +for whatever else may change, the circus remains faithful to its +traditions. The Yorick of the sawdust soon followed, and said the things +which convulsed us with laughter in our tender years, and which cause us +to smile in our maturity in the recollections they bring back. It was +the same bold joke and the same grimace. The quips and quirks force on +us the fact that there is but little originality in the human mind, and +this was substantially the reflection of Rounders as he turned an +indifferent ear to the wearisome wit. He prided himself on his acumen, +and was not to be taken in with such worn buffoonery. Yet I trow that +even Rounders envied the children who gave themselves over body and soul +to the accredited man of humor. + +He looked at the woman going through the hoops, the trick pony seeking +for the hidden handkerchief, and the bareback rider turning a summerset, +with a mild interest, for he had seen them or something like them +before. The strong man who threw up the cannon balls into the air, and +allowed them to fall on his nape, to roll down the hollow of his back to +the ground, hardly aroused this indifferent spectator. What he looked +forward to with curiosity was the performance of the lion-tamer, and +when it did come it exceeded his expectations. + +The master of the ring, attired in what resembled the uniform of an +officer of the navy, stepped into the middle of the arena, and with the +affectation of good breeding characteristic of the class, said, "Ladies +and gentlemen: I have the honor to announce that John Brinton, the most +extraordinary and celebrated tamer of lions in the world, will appear +before you in his remarkable performance, during which every one is +requested to keep his seat. Your attention is especially directed to the +third part of it, as one of the marvels of the nineteenth century. + +"To-morrow there will be a matinee at one o'clock, and in the evening +the performance at the usual hour." + +The speaker bowed and retired. The band struck up "See, the Conquering +Hero Comes," as the Brinton in question came forward with that dash +which belongs to lion-tamers everywhere. He was an athletic man between +forty and fifty, of a stern countenance, and of a self-possession that +was evident as soon as he appeared. He was arrayed in flesh-colored +tights, with embroidered sky-blue velvet around the loins. He bore in +one hand a black rod, five or six feet long, and in the other a whip. +His hair was short, and he was cleanly shaved. Men who put their heads +between lions' jaws generally are, for the titillation of a straggling +hair might produce a cough that would prove tragical. He was quick and +decided in all his movements, as the lion-tamer should be, in order to +leave the beast no time to work itself up to a decision. + +The cage which he entered contained two lions. One was large, grumbling, +and fierce, who had passed a part of his life in the wilds of Africa; +the other, and smaller of the two, was an emasculated beast, born behind +the bars, and was as tractable as the animal usually is that has never +known freedom. The performance consisted of three parts. The first was +of the kind common to menageries. The tamer entered by the little door +in a corner, with the celerity which all tamers employ, and stood for a +moment in the statuesque immobility to which they are also given, in +coming before the public. Having done this, he started forward with the +black rod in his left hand, approached the animals, driving them to the +end of the cage, the end of the rod nearly touching their faces. Here +they stood under protest, growling. Then he raised his whip, struck the +smaller beast, making it run from one end of the cage to the other, and +leap over his shoulder in a way familiar to people who have visited a +menagerie. He threw it down, put his foot on its prostrate body, and +folded his arms in the character of victor. He lay down on it, pulled +open its jaws, and inserted his head therein. Then he jumped up and +dismissed it, with a cut of the whip, to one corner. During this time +the larger lion had been an indifferent and surly spectator. The tamer +approached, touching him with the rod, when he jumped forward with a +growl, half crouching. Quickly the tamer caught hold of his upper jaw +and tore it open, as great, rebellious cog-wheel growls issued from the +mighty throat. Then he spurned him with his foot, bowed to the audience, +went to the door, let himself out like a flash, the two animals making a +bound against it as he disappeared. + +"A, B, C," said Rounders. "Nothing new about that." + +During the interim venders went about holding up photographic portraits +of the tamer, lustily shouting his professional and private virtues. +Their voices were, however, soon drowned in the clash of the brass band, +which played a prelude to what was coming. At the conclusion of this a +lone and last voice cried out, "Ice-cold lemonade," but it was promptly +suppressed by those near the crier, as Brinton again appeared. + +The second part was a short drama enacted with the larger animal, whose +name was Brutus, the smaller one being driven into an adjoining cage. In +the drama Brutus was the faithful friend of his master, the tamer, who +is attacked by his enemies--a dozen supernumeraries in rusty spangles, +who simultaneously thrust their spears through the bars from the outside +of one end of the cage; when the spears are thus thrust through the +bars, the master calls on his faithful servant Brutus to save his +master's life, and rid him of his enemies, giving the command in the +words: + +"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!" + +This was the "situation." Brutus advances at the word of command, and +with a few blows from his great paws breaks the brittle spears which the +somewhat _flasque_ enemies hold from without. At this the tamer strikes +an attitude, and shouts in a melodramatic voice: + +"Saved! And by this noble animal!" + +These words are accompanied with the action of putting an arm +affectionately around the neck of Brutus. This is the denouement. + +He bows and retires as before, this time amid increased applause. + +"Not bad," said the critical Rounders, "but nothing extra." + +As Brinton disappeared the voices of the venders arose again, to be +drowned as before by the blare of the wind instruments. Silence was +restored for his next appearance. It was the third part which Rounders +desired especially to see, and a surprise was reserved for him. In it +the tamer entered the cage with a great piece of raw meat in each hand, +Brutus being still alone, standing in the middle of the cage, eagerly +looking out for his master. Brinton threw one of the pieces down in the +middle of the floor, and the beast pounced on it as only a wild beast +can, holding it between his paws as he gluttonously devoured it--not +with a lateral movement of the jaws, but cat-like--amid half stifled, +threatening growls, with menacing eyes turned from time to time toward +the tamer. What the tamer then did was the most extraordinary +performance which Rounders had ever seen, and sent thrills of admiration +down his spinal column. + +Brinton calmly approached the ferocious animal feeding, and took away +from it the half finished piece of meat, and as he did so the beast +growled, but submitted! After which he waved the half consumed beef in +the air and bowed, amid great applause, in which Rounders heartily +joined. Then the tamer said: + +"Brutus, you have behaved so well I shall reward you with another +piece." + +Which he did, the beast seizing it and gorging himself as before. At +this point the master of the ring stepped forth again as the tamer +disappeared, and said: + +"Ladies and gentlemen, when you recollect how difficult it is to take a +bone away from even a pet dog, it will give you some idea of the +marvellous performance you have just witnessed. It will be repeated +to-morrow during the day and evening." + +"This is a real show," said Rounders, wound up to enthusiasm. "But how +does he do it?" This was the question which at once presented itself, +and thereafter gave him no peace. With this perplexing inquiry was +mingled a deep and abiding admiration. He was brought to a determination +to which he had been moving for two or three years. In a word, he +decided then and there to enter the vocation. He sought the man who had +sent the tingling, shivering sensation down his vertebrae, and explained +that he wanted to go with him on any terms and in any capacity. + +Brinton had taken off his professional gear, and was undistinguishable +from the sombre mass of his fellow citizens. He was out on the open +space near the great tent, looking abstractedly at a man blowing with +distended cheeks into a lung-testing machine. Rounders stood before him +with the respect due to a man who snatches meat away from a ferocious +lion. + +After going through his work with the beasts, Brinton was usually tired +and somewhat indifferent to the ordinary affairs of life. Other things +seemed pale after the emotions of the cage. When Rounders explained to +him what he wanted, the tamer said: + +"You've got it." + +"Got what?" + +"The lion fever. You are lion struck. I've seen a good many like you. +Its an uphill business. Not one keeper in fifty gets the handling of the +brutes, and still the only way of going about it is to be a keeper. +Besides handling them, you must have a _specialty_--a trick, you know. +You've got to get up one yourself or worm it out of somebody else. As +for the lion man telling anybody--that is something I haven't yet met +with. You may take his life, but he won't give up his trick; it's his +pride, his pleasure, and his bread and butter." + +"I want to be a keeper all the same," returned Rounders. + +"Come on then," said Brinton; "for we want a keeper, as we left one at +the last town. He was a young man who had been reading in natural +history about the noble nature of the lion, and he put his hand in +between the bars to pat Brutus on the head. The surgeon examined him, +and said his arm was fractured in several places--it was a regular chaw. +We left him in the hospital. I tell you this as a warning not to go +fooling round the beasts--that is, if you're coming." + +The fate of the young man of a too trusting faith in the noble nature of +the lion did not turn Rounders from his determination, and the next +morning he was a part of the establishment. + +At first the tongue of the tamer was pretty closely tied touching +matters of his profession, but in due time he expanded into talk when he +saw the genuine enthusiasm of the keeper for all that related to the +subject, yet naturally practised strict reserve in everything concerning +his particular work. In a word, professional secrets remained entombed. + +He thought men were born to his vocation, and there was no resisting it. +He had followed shows and hung around lion cages when he was a boy. +Toward manhood the business had exercised such a fascination that he at +last obtained employment with a tamer, whom he followed until he was +killed by his beasts. This sanguinary spectacle deterred him for the +time from the idea of entering a cage, but he continued his work. + +There were two kinds of lions in the menageries--those born and raised +in the cages and those caught as whelps wild in Asia and Africa. A few +full grown were caught in pits. The first time he entered a cage was in +a small show in a provincial town. The two lions whom he then +encountered were old and sick, and bore the scars of twenty years' +whipping on their bald hides; besides, they were born and brought up +behind the bars. They growled from force of habit, but there was not +much danger in them. The posters of course announced the two brutes as +two of the most ferocious kings of the forest. + +From these he passed to cage-bred lions in their prime, thence to the +wild animals, of which Brutus was one. Until the tamer was able to work +with these last, he was not considered as belonging to the rank of real +tamers. The sensation he experienced the first time he entered the cage +of wild animals was difficult to describe; it was an appreciation of +imminent danger coupled with courage. When he issued from the cage his +tights and spangled cloth felt as if they had just come out of the wash +tub. He was steeled up to the point of bravery before the brutes, but +ten minutes afterward a child could have knocked him over. + +The principal secret of managing the brutes was not to be afraid of +them. When the man showed fear he was lost. The mastery was not acquired +so much through violence of treatment as an absolute sense of security +in their presence. Audacity and self-possession were necessary every +minute, every second; a moment's loss of equilibrium might prove fatal. + +The buttery mode of treatment about which bookmen wrote had no existence +in fact among showmen. No man managed his beasts with kindness. When his +Brutus licked his face in his performance it looked affectionate, but it +was not; he did it because he was afraid; and when the animal went +through this osculatory business he was obliged to keep his eye on him +with all the concentration of his will, for there was something in the +beast's eyes which showed that he would sooner use his teeth than his +tongue. + +There was an impression that a lion once tamed is tamed for good, as a +horse is broken to harness. This was an error; the lion had to be tamed +every day anew in order to keep him in subjection. + +Rounders asked him if he meant to say that all lions were vicious. To +which he answered negatively. There were good lions and bad lions, just +as there were good and bad men. The bad beasts, however, were more +numerous than the others, for it was their nature to kill to provide for +their hunger. The book talk about their generosity was not trustworthy; +the instinct of the beast was to kill when it was hungry, but when its +stomach was full it was less dangerous. He had seen the beast in its +wild state, having hunted him in Africa. He had captured Brutus there +when the animal was two years old; he was then ten, but always retained +something of his wild nature. He was secured in a pit with his mother, +the mother being shot. + +In another menagerie with which he had been connected his principal +performance was "the happy family," in which he brought together in the +same cage two lions, several wolves, a couple of bears, a sheep, a small +elephant with a monkey on his back. The crowning feature of this was the +introduction of the sheep's head into the lion's mouth, which he held +open by the upper lip with a strong grip. The sovereignty of the lions +was acknowledged by the other animals, who looked at them with fear, +getting as far away from them as the cage would permit. He had to pull +each one into the cage by force. He compelled a bear to stand with his +nose in close proximity to that of a lion; he called this the kiss of +friendship; the bear had to be kicked and pushed into position, looking +at the lion with terror; the lion did not deign to look at the bear, but +kept his eye fixed on his master, whom of course he obeyed under +protest. When the sheep was brought forward, and its head was put +between the lion's jaws, it was almost in a swooning condition, and +excited general pity. He had to get a new sheep every month, the daily +fear causing them soon to decline unto death. + +The foregoing, in substance, was a portion of the talk with which +Brinton gratified himself as well as his listener, the appreciative +Rounders. + +The trick of pulling away the meat from under the jaws of Brutus was +technically known under the canvas as the "meat-jerk." It continued to +remain uppermost in the mind of the new keeper. + +The nomadic life had pleasures for Rounders, aside from the fascination +of the "meat-jerk." He drove a gayly colored wagon in the caravan, as it +moved through the country. At night, like the Arabs, they folded their +tents and stole away, and at dawn they were on the march. Perched on his +seat, Rounders's eyes dwelt on the landscape with its purple tints of +the morning, and his nostrils sniffed the sweet odors of Nature while +she was still in deshabille. Silently, like a variegated serpent, the +caravan crept around the hills and through the valleys. The musicians, +clad in gold and scarlet, rode through the country in their magnificent +chariot, and gave out no sound, their breath being reserved for the +towns and villages. The vestal silence remained unbroken by the +stridulous clarinet and the blatant trombones. + +Every man has a weakness, and Brinton had his. He was in tender +thraldom. He loved the woman that jumped through the hoops and balloons +on a padded horse. Whenever her eyes turned on him they sent a thrill +through him more exciting than that produced by Brutus. He generally +stood near the ring-board when she appeared in public, and envied the +ringmaster the agreeable duty of assisting her to mount. Admiringly he +watched her shapely legs going through the hoops and over the garters, +as her eyes sparkled and her face flushed with the excitement, but there +was no indication of his love being returned. + +When Rounders discovered this tenderness in the heart of the tamer, he +thought of Samson and Delilah, and wondered if something of the kind +could not be done with natural comeliness instead of a pair of scissors. +Guided by instinct, Rounders, who was a shrewd fellow, as has already +been said, made his court to Mlle. La Sauteuse, known in private life as +Sally Stubbs. There were conventional barriers between a keeper and a +rider, but Rounders by tact and good looks got over them, and whispered +sweet nonsense in the porches of Miss Stubbs's willing ear. + +One evening, after the performance, as the moon shone athwart the great +tent, and the brass band was hushed, Sally Stubbs stood against a +background of canvas, bathed in the sheen from on high. Quiet reigned in +the tents of the elephantine woman and the calf with six legs. The +lung-tester had folded up his machine and departed. The sound of +"ice-cold lemonade" had died in the general stillness. Mlle. La Sauteuse +leaned over lovingly to the new keeper, and asked in a low, sympathetic +voice, + +"What can I do for you, Jim Rounders?" + +"Find out the 'meat-jerk,'" was the swift response. + +"Alas," said the fair Stubbs, "when you've been as long in the tent as +I've been, you'll know that that is impossible. You might as well ask me +for a slice of the moon that is now lookin' down on this here peaceful +scene atween you and me." + +"You've heard the Sunday school story about Samson and Delilah?" pursued +Rounders. + +"What's that got to do with John Brinton's secret?" + +"What's been done can be done again. Delilah wormed it out of Samson: +why can't Sally Stubbs worm it out of Brinton?" + +"Cut off his hair, as the Bible woman did?" + +"That's too thin," said Rounders rashly, without fear of theological +dogma. "That's allygory. They call it hair-cuttin', and when they call +it that, its hairsplittin'. Take my word for it, Sally Stubbs, that when +she got the secret out of that hefty, long-haired man, she did it with +her pretty ways and good looks." + +Still, Miss Stubbs affirmed that such a project as Rounders entertained +was impossible; and it was true. In his weakest, or most sentimental +hours, Brinton knew how to withstand even the blandishments of the +charming Stubbs when she approached professional topics. Under her smile +he opened up like a morning-glory kissed by Aurora; but when she tried +to penetrate into the mystery of his great lion act, he closed up like +the same flower when it encounters the sun. He had a well-ordered mind +divided into compartments--business was one thing and love was another. + +Meanwhile the keeper kept his eye on every movement of Brinton. He was +his shadow. When he was not occupied with the master, he was looking +after the animals. Reciprocity of kindness is a principle of nature +which Rounders had observed, and in which he had some faith, +notwithstanding the pessimist views of Brinton. He began by +familiarizing Brutus with the sight of his face, person, and voice. He +spoke to the animal in the most sympathetic accent of which he was +capable. He hung round his cage as long and as often as his duties would +permit. He reached the point of cajolery, and assumed friendship, as: + +"Well, Brutus, how are you, old boy? How did you like the last feed? I'm +afraid this travellin' round in confinement, on wheels, is injurin' your +complexion. Of course you would like to be footin' it like the rest of +us. I reckon it _would_ be better for you, but it might be bad for some +of us two-legged fellows. Eh, bully boy?" + +This jocularity was in strange contrast to the sombre indifference with +which the king of the forest looked down on the speaker. Rounders +infringed on the rules laid down by Brinton in giving bits of meat to +the beast whenever an opportunity presented itself; but notwithstanding +these offerings, the two sombre eyes continued to regard him with an +unchanged expression. One day, to arouse him from his condition of +indifference or latent kindness, Rounders introduced a stick under the +bars to poke him up in a friendly way, touching him on his extended +paws. The beast struck quickly, and almost caught his hand. As it was, +one of his fingers was bruised by the blow. Brinton, unperceived by +Rounders, had been standing behind him noting the incident. + +"Rounders," said Brinton, "you're lucky. About two months ago a fellow +did the same thing as you've been doing, but he did not come out as well +as you." + +"What befell him?" asked Rounders. + +"Brutus caught his hand under the bars, pulled in his arm, reached out +his other paw in an affectionate embrace around the man's neck, pressed +him against the bars, and mashed him. When I came up it was too late. He +dropped on the sawdust and never got up again." + +In noting their habits, Rounders observed that they were more afraid of +the short pole which Brinton carried into the cage than they were of the +whip. Brinton called this bit of dark wood his magic wand, which in a +measure justified its name, for as soon as he touched them with it, they +gave way and drew back to the end of the cage. He usually carried it +with him into a little tent-chamber, which was rigged up near the lion's +cage. One night, after issuing from the cage, he forgot to take the +magic wand with him, leaving it lying on the sawdust, alongside of one +of the wheels which carried the beasts. Jim Rounders picked it up with +curiosity, and found it very heavy. In a word, it was iron. He drew his +hand caressingly from one end of it to the other, as he thought of the +effects which it produced when it came in contact with the lions' noses. +As his hand softly reached down to the other end, he drew it back as if +bitten by a viper, with an exclamation that would not have met with +favor in the Young Men's Christian Association. The end was hot. He +carried the rod into the little tent-chamber, and left it there. It was +now made clear to him why the animals showed such an aversion to the end +of the magic wand. + +The wife of Brutus was a lioness called Cleopatra, generally kept in +another cage. In the order of nature she was at times more affectionate +to her husband than at others, and during such periods Brutus became +irritable, and difficult to manage. It was hard to keep him down, even +with the hot iron. As they wended their way from village to village, and +town to town, over the old-fashioned turnpikes, Brutus entered one of +the irritable phases of his life, during which, it is hardly necessary +to say, the vigilant eye of Rounders was nearly always on the tamer in +his management of the brute. One night, through a chink of the little +tent-chamber, he saw Brinton standing irresolute, although behind his +time for entering the cage; the beads of sweat stood on his forehead, +and he held his heated iron in his hand; then he roused himself to +decision, spat on the heated end of the magic wand, which hissed, and +strode quickly to the cage. + +This was a revelation to Rounders. It was apparent that even Brinton, +plucky as he was, had his moments of apprehension and demoralization, +from which he concluded that the danger must be real. Rounders, as usual +taking a deep interest, followed him to the cage and took his station +near the front of it. Brinton's first action as soon as he got into the +cage was to run at the nose of Brutus with his hot iron and drive him +back to one end. Rounders fancied he could almost hear the frizzle of +the flesh. He went through the first part of the performance with the +cage-bred lion, whipping him and making him jump over his shoulders in +the usual way, but he omitted that part where he tore open the jaws of +Brutus, and made him lick his face. + +The dramatic event took place in the second part. Brinton in his +preoccupation of that night left the magic wand reposing against the +wheel near the door of the cage as he entered it, to play the drama. +Brutus, rebellious and gloomy, went through his part until the scene +where the spears are thrust through the bars arrived. His master gave +the word of command: + +"To the rescue, Brutus! Down with the miscreants!" at the same time +pointing as usual to the spears with the enemies behind them. Brutus, +who was at the opposite end of the cage--the tamer in the centre--did +not move. Brinton gave the command a second time, stamping with his foot +to enforce it. The eyes of the lion did not turn in the direction of the +spears, as they heretofore did when the animal was ordered to the +rescue, but settled in a sombre manner on Brinton, whom the beast began +gradually to approach. At this moment Rounders, who was narrowly +watching the proceeding, observed a momentary quailing of the eye in the +tamer; still he called up his fierce expression again, and gave the +order for the third time to the gradually advancing brute, whose eyes +were steadily fixed on him. The heart of Rounders beat quick; he held +his breath. The theory then flashed through his mind about the steady +human eye being able to hold the lion in subjection or deter him from +attacking, and he scanned the eyes of Brinton. They were both fixed on +the beast, but there was no sign of the beast's quailing. Brinton cursed +and shouted at the brute, the motive of which Rounders quickly +understood, another theory being that the lion is sometimes prevented +from attacking in this way. This noise seemed rather to contribute to +the ire of the beast; besides it was presently drowned in his mighty +roar. The culminating point of anger was reached, the mane stood out on +end, and the lashing tail stiffened into a straight line, as the animal +made a bound toward Brinton, who still bore himself as if he were +complete master. Brinton fell. Quick as a flash, Rounders seized the +magic wand, burst open the little door, and made a lunge at the brute on +top of the fallen man. The men with the spears attacked him from behind, +and as the animal turned for a moment to face them, Rounders took +advantage of it to clutch Brinton, drag him to the door, and out of the +cage. + +At this the applause was deafening. It was the first night in this +community, and the spectators thought it was in the play. The heart of +Rounders turned sick as he heard the admiring shouts. He pulled Brinton +into the little tent-chamber; thence he smuggled him into a room in an +adjoining hotel. + +The beast had ripped the flesh from the bone nearly the length of his +leg, as the surgeon ascertained, who was secretly called in. Fortunately +no bones were broken. Five minutes after the event of the cage, the +manager of the concern came before the audience and stated that the +celebrated lion-tamer, John Brinton, who had been engaged at a fabulous +sum, and had performed before all the crowned heads of Europe, was taken +with a sudden indisposition to which he was sometimes subject, and would +be obliged to deny himself the pleasure of appearing again that evening. +Then he added some remark about the noble beast of the forest, who +probably regretted the non-appearance of its master--whom he positively +loved, as much as the people before him. + +After the show was over that night, the manager asked the doctor how +long the wounded tamer would keep his bed, to which answer was made that +it would be several weeks. The manager did not know what was to be done. +Then, turning to Rounders, he said, + +"There's good stuff in you. Brinton owes you his life. Don't you think +you might go into Pompey until Brinton gets on his legs?" (Pompey being +the old emasculated lion who appeared to the public in the same cage +with Brutus). To which question Rounders, picking up heart of grace, +said he thought he might. + +"I mean," added the manager, "of course, in keeping Brutus out of the +cage, and confining your handling to Pompey, who is not a bad-natured +animal. Have you got the courage to go into him?" + +Rounders said he had. + +"I don't want any foolhardiness," continued the manager. "If you can +manage to make Pompey run around the cage a little, that will do until +Brinton recovers." + +A few minutes afterward Rounders was in the room of the wounded tamer, +to whom he said: + +"I'm going in to do the business with Pompey, until you get well." + +The expression of languid suffering left the face of Brinton, as he +asked, "What are you going to do with him?" + +"Do what you did with him--or try to." + +"Perhaps you may do it, Rounders." + +"If I knew the 'meat jerk,' I don't know but I might try that on him." + +"Look here, Rounders," said the reclining man, "I have a word to say to +you. You tried to get Sally Stubbs away from me; for that I didn't like +you. But what you have done to-night wipes that out, and puts something +to the credit side of your account. This being the case, let me give you +this advice: Don't try the 'meat-jerk,' and when you go into Pompey, go +at him before he has time to think." + +Brinton was left in the town where he met with his mishap, under charge +of the doctor, and the train moved on to the next village, where +Rounders was to make his first appearance as a performer. He had faith +in hot iron, and as soon as he got inside of the cage door he went to +Pompey with the magic wand. The animal stood a moment and lashed his +tail, when Rounders quickly frizzled his nose before he had time for +reflection; then he gave way, retreating to one end. Here Rounders +strode toward him with his whip and gave him a cut, returned to the +middle of the cage, and stamped his foot as he had seen Brinton do. The +animal hesitated. Rounders stamped his foot again and raised his whip; +then Pompey jumped over his shoulder and up and down the ends of the car +in the traditional fashion. The new tamer pulled open his jaws, lay down +between his paws, and stood over him with a foot on his neck in sign of +victory. After which he bowed and retired. This was the whole +performance as far as the lions were concerned, the others--Cleopatra +and Brutus--being simply exhibited. + +"Not bad for a beginner," said the manager when he came out of the cage. +Miss Stubbs, who was standing by in short cloud-like skirts and +flesh-colored tights, said something more handsome, being in closer +sympathy with Rounders than the manager. + +For two or three weeks Rounders continued to go through a performance +like the initiatory one, but at the end of that time his ambition moved +him to do something more. Pompey was tractable, and he determined to +attempt the "meat-jerk." He had not forgotten the advice of Brinton, but +he thought it was given through jealousy. He communicated his +determination to the manager, who told him if he thought he could do it, +to go ahead, for the managerial mind was absorbed with the idea of +additional attraction. He also informed Miss Stubbs of his project, who +exhibited more solicitude, and her first impulse was to dissuade the +ambitious Rounders from the undertaking. Under such circumstances men +are not inclined to heed the words of women, and in this instance +Rounders did not. His principal aim in making the communication was to +elicit information. She knew Brinton perhaps better than any one else in +the company. Couldn't she give him some "points"? Alas! she had no +"points" to give, for, however expansive Brinton may have been under +Cupid's influence, he was as close as an oyster in what related to his +profession, as has already been said. There was but one course left for +Rounders to pursue, which was to play a close imitation of Brinton. + +The night of the representation came. The first part of the lion +performance passed off, and the second was at hand. The sweat stood on +the forehead of Rounders in drops as it had on that of Brinton when +Rounders saw him on the night of his irresolution. He issued from the +little tent-chamber, with a piece of meat in each hand, as he had seen +Brinton do. Miss Stubbs stood at the door of the cage in her +professional costume, with the magic wand in her hand. + +"Jim Rounders," said she solemnly, "keep cool. If you lose your presence +of mind, you're gone." + +"All right, Sally Stubbs," said he reassuringly as he opened the door +and went in with the two pieces of meat. The hungry animal jumped to his +feet and switched his tail. He smelt the meat. Rounders threw him a +piece, which he seized with the voracity common to lions, and began to +eat, growling between each bite. Rounders eyed the menacing beast for a +few moments, as it fed, then approached and put out his hand, at which +there was a louder and more threatening growl. It was the growl of +warning. A low feminine voice reached Rounders's ear from the cage door, +which said, + +"Jim Rounders, don't do it." But Rounders was not a man to renounce a +project when it was once lodged in his head; and he boldly reached down +to take hold of the meat on which Pompey was feeding. A gurgling growl, +rising to a high key, was the response, and a spring. Rounders was down +and the beast on top of him. At that moment the cage door flew open. +Sally Stubbs ran with the magic wand against the beast and stuck it into +his mouth, and as it went in, the act sounded like putting a steak on +the fire. She caught the prostrate man by the arm, and drew him behind +her with her free hand, and thus holding him, she dragged him backing +toward the door, holding out her rod in front to prevent a renewal of +the attack. The two got out safe together. On examination it was found +that Rounders had sustained no other injury than some severe bruises. + +"No more of that, Rounders," said the manager. "I don't want the +prospects of my show ruined by a tragedy. You have had a narrow escape. +Let it be a lesson to you not to undertake a thing you don't +understand." + +Rounders's first act after the rescue was to kiss Miss Stubbs on both +cheeks, saying as he did so, + +"Sally Stubbs, you are the only one of the kind." + +"_Mister_ Rounders," said she, pertly pushing him back, "none of them +liberties with me. I may be foolish enough to go into a cage after you, +but I'm not foolish enough to suffer them things." + +After that there was no performance with the lions for over a week, +during which Rounders was despondent. He was still occupied with the +extraordinary feat of removing meat from under the jaws of a feeding +lion. It pursued him night and day, and he told Miss Stubbs that he +would never be happy until he found out the secret. + +At length Brinton overtook the company, having come by railway. He was +completely restored, and as anxious to begin again as the manager to +have him do so. He was informed of the accident which had befallen him +who had attempted to walk in his traces. He turned to Rounders saying, + +"Now I suppose you'll own that I wanted to do you a good turn." + +"I acknowledge it--I was presumptuous and wanted tapping," answered +Rounders with proper humility. + +"As I told you before," continued Brinton, "I owe you something. Sit +down here and let me talk to you." + +Brinton picked up a piece of shingle, took out his knife, and whittled +as the two sat down together. + +"You want to learn the business, but you begin at the wrong end. You +don't know much about lion nature, and you want to do the high art in +the profession on sight. A man must creep before he can walk. Now, you +tried to begin by walking, and you know what came of it." + +This was a specimen of a bit of the talk given for the benefit and +guidance of the lion-tamer _en herbe_, and by the time Brinton got +through with his advice, his words had a salutary effect, at least for +the time being. + +There was a smouldering gleam of vengeance in the eye of Brinton when he +entered the cage for the first time after his accident, which brightened +almost into a flame as he bore down on Brutus with the hot rod. He +persistently thrust it at him; the great cog-wheel growls issued from +his throat, and he tried to break down the rod with his paw; then he +ingloriously fled around the cage as Brinton chased him with his whip. +This was accompanied with curses low but intense, which would have +shocked the Christian spectators of the assembly had they heard them. + +In playing the drama, Brinton took the precaution to have put in the +centre of the cage, as part of the decorations, a stump of a tree, which +was hollow, and contained a navy revolver and a bowie-knife. When he +gave the command to Brutus to leap forward against the spears, Brinton +stood alongside of the stump with one hand inside of it, his forefinger +playing with the trigger of the revolver. The apprehension of a +recurrence of the critical scene which has been narrated was however +groundless. Brutus dutifully leaped forward and smashed the brittle +spears, without hesitation, and calmly suffered himself to be embraced +as a "noble beast" afterward. + +The "meat-jerk" was given with the success which usually characterized +it in the hands of Brinton, the applause being enthusiastic. + +"And yet," said Rounders to Miss Stubbs, as they both stood looking at +the performance, "he does it just as I tried to do it. How easy and +natural! As he says, it's high art." + +"I don't think it's anything to be compared to standin' on my +cream-colored horse and jumping through the balloons." + +"Ah, Sally Stubbs, we can't see these things with the same eyes," said +Rounders, with a sigh. + +Miss Stubbs noted that sigh as she had the other sighs to which Rounders +gave himself over ever since his failure. She was persuaded that the man +was incorrigible, unless that particular mystery was unfolded to him. + +One day, as the caravan wound the shoulder of a steep hill, the horses +drawing the wagon containing Brutus shied at some object in the woods, +which precipitated horses and wagon down an embankment of twelve or +fifteen feet. The outside woodwork broke in several places, and the +shock knocked the door of the cage open. The driver jumped up unhurt, +but consternation was depicted on his face when his eyes turned toward +the cage. Brutus was standing on the ground lashing his sides with anger +at the bruises which he had received from the fall. Word went along the +caravan that the lion was out; all the vehicles stopped, and several of +the company's people ran to the brow of the embankment and looked down +on the scene of the catastrophe and the infuriated lion. Brinton, who +was riding in a buggy a short distance ahead of the wagon of Brutus, +jumped out and ran back to the spot where the disaster had just taken +place. He held in his hand an ordinary whip used in driving a buggy. +With this he approached the angry animal, the people falling back. When +he got near him he raised his whip menacingly. The brute made the quick +bound for which he is known, and struck him down, his claws sinking deep +into vital parts. He called out the name of Brutus with a groan. At this +juncture the animal discovered that it was his master, as he quickly +snuffed his prostrate person. That day Brinton had put on a new suit of +clothes, and when he ran toward the animal it was evident he had not +recognized him. Brinton lay unconscious on the ground, the animal not +making any further attack after his discovery of the identity. The brute +did not betray any sorrow at what he had done, nor did he give any proof +of affection. He simply became indifferent, and while he was in this +state, Rounders enticed him into another cage by the display of a piece +of meat, and as soon as he got him in, he jumped out and locked the +door. + +The wounded man was picked up and conveyed to a neighboring farmhouse, +Rounders being one of those who carried him. In proceeding to the house +he revived, and when they reached it, they carefully placed him on a +couch. The nearest physician was sent for, he living two or three miles +away. Making an effort to control the manifestation of suffering, +Brinton requested all to leave the room except Rounders. His request was +complied with. He asked Rounders to sit down alongside of him, as he +could not speak loud, and he wanted to reserve his strength. + +"Jim Rounders," said he with a softened expression of the eyes, "I have +something to say to you, and I want to say it before it is too late. +There was no use sending for the doctor--I won't be here long." + +At this Rounders offered a consolatory word to inspire hope, but Brinton +understood with what intent it was uttered and took no notice of it. + +"Jim Rounders," pursued he, "I owe you something, and I want to pay you +before I die. It's about the 'meat-jerk.'" + +Naturally the curiosity of Rounders was eager. + +"Like all great inventions," continued the tamer, "it's as simple as A, +B, C when you know how it's done." + +The secret, as explained by the sinking man, was in substance as +follows: It is a work of several months. You begin by giving the lion a +large piece of meat, and when he has polished it to the bone, you give +another piece, and when he fastens on that you pick up the bone. After +awhile you will be able to take the bone from under his mouth as you +slip the other piece of meat in its place. In time he gets to know that +when you take the first piece away from him, though it should be only +half finished, it is to be replaced by a larger piece. Gradually you let +a little time pass between the taking away and the giving, which he will +get accustomed to. This is the time you bow to the audience as if the +feat were finished, and when you give the second piece in an indifferent +manner, as if it were of no importance, the public will not see through +it. + +"Just as you did not see through it," to resume the words of Brinton, +"though you watched me like a hawk." + +"How simple!" said the enthusiastic listener. + +"So simple," continued the wounded man with effort, "I'm sure you wonder +to yourself you never thought of it before." + +Here he gasped for breath. After a pause he gathered himself together +for another effort, and went on. + +"You tried it on Pompey. He was never trained, and of course you failed. +If you are afraid of handling Brutus, you can train Pompey--as I did +Brutus." + +The tamer stopped again to get breath, and the pause was longer than +those which preceded it. He was weak unto death. The faint reflection of +a smile flitted over his features as he said in a hoarse whisper, + +"My last performance now--no postponement--on account of the weather." + +After another long pause, in the same hoarse whisper, he said, + +"This secret--will be a fortune--to you, Jim Rounders. Now shake +hands--and let--me die." + +And two hands clasped. One was warm, and pulsating with vigorous life, +but the other was dead. As Rounders held the lifeless one in his, he +resolved to renounce the ungrateful profession; but after the burial of +the dead tamer, the ruling passion took possession of him again, and he +did not rest until he had performed the "meat-jerk" with Brutus. Indeed, +he was not satisfied to walk in the footsteps of Brinton, but became in +his turn a creator of a Biblical drama, which he called "Daniel in the +Lion's Den." + + ALBERT RHODES. + + + + +A WOMAN'S GIFTS. + + + First I would give thee--nay, I may and will, + Thoughts, memory, prayers, a sacred wealth unguessed, + My soul's own glad and beautiful bequest, + Conveyed in voiceless reverence, deep and still, + As angels give their thoughts and prayers to God! + Next I would yield, in service freely made, + All of my days and years, thy needs to fill; + To bear or heavy cross, or thorny rod, + Glad of my bondage, deeming it most meet: + Oh, mystery of love, as strange as sweet, + That love from its own wealth should be repaid! + Last, I would give thee, if it pleased thee so, + And for thy pleasure, wishing it increased, + My woman's beauty, heart and lips aglow; + But this, dear, last--so soon its charm must fade, + It is, indeed, of all my gifts, the least! + + MARY AINGE DEVERE. + + + + +THE MODERN PYTHIA. + + +The arraignment of Dr. Slade, the spiritual medium, before a London +magistrate, on a charge of vagrancy, suggests the rather trite remark +that "history repeats itself." + +Spiritualism is literally "as old as the hills." Lying in a manner +dormant through long years, it has had its periodical outcroppings; as, +when absolutely prohibited by an edict of Israel's first king, B. C. +1060; when it was abjured by the Council of Ancyra of Galatia, in A. D. +314; and again when ranking highest among the popular delusions of a +people boasting of their civilization and culture, in the year of our +Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-six. + +Having its foundations in truth, there have not been found wanting, in +the remote past as in the present, unscrupulous persons ready to erect +on those foundations the most stupendous frauds. + +The mental phenomena which have given rise to what is called +spiritualism are daily exhibited in some form or other in the life and +experience of almost every one. But the simplest and perhaps the most +interesting method of exhibition is by means of the little toy called +Planchette; a brief account of some experiments with which will best +serve to illustrate the nature of the phenomena in question. + +The writer and a lady friend placing the tips of their fingers lightly +on the board, the following words were traced on the paper upon which it +was placed: + +"Have you courage for the future?" + +"Will you not faint by the roadside?" + +"You will be beset by foes within and without." + +"Lions in your pathway." + +"Hope and trust--trust--trust." + +On being asked to whom this applied, it answered: + +"The heart that needs it will understand." + +A question was then put by a bystander; but instead of answering, it +went on as though continuing the former train of thought: + +"Hope and trust. You will have trials you know not of." And again, "Hope +and trust." + +Here another question was put by a bystander, but instead of answer came +the words: + +"You will find important letters awaiting you from home. Hope and +trust." + +I then asked: "To whom are these words addressed?" + +_Ans._--Soon enough you will know. Hope and trust. + +To a question given mentally by a bystander it answered: + +"Letters awaiting you. Hope and trust." + +_Ques._--Letters from whom? + +_Ans._--Your home and family. + +_Ques._--From what place? + +_Ans._--Soon enough you will know. + +_Ques._--Are they all well at home? + +_Ans._--With God all things are well. + +Not being able to decipher this clearly, it repeated: + +"With God all things are well. Trust Him." + +I confess to having been impressed with these words, so solemn were +they, so oracular, and, as it then appeared, so fitly spoken. At the +time of making these experiments I was on board one of the Pacific Mail +steamships, on my way to San Francisco; and I had reason to be +particularly solicitous in regard to my future. But my companion, in +these my first experiments, just entering a new and untried field, had +far more cause of anxiety than myself in regard to the future. To her +these warnings seemed singularly applicable. Satisfied that my +cooperator exercised no voluntary control over the board, absolutely +certain the words were not emanations of my own mind, and impelled by +curiosity, I determined to try the effect of a few test questions, and, +ridiculous as it may appear, ascertain from the instrument itself +something of its nature. + +Is there any power in Planchette, or is it merely a vehicle? I asked. + +_Ans._--Inactive bodies have no active agency. + +_Ques._--Whence come the words of Planchette--whence her intelligence? + +_Ans._--From the seat of intelligence in the one who commands me. + +_Ques._--Can you foretell coming events? + +_Ans._--The future is not made known to man. + +_Ques._--Can you give information not in the minds of the operators? + +_Ans._--No, or in the mind of some one who works me. + +_Ques._--What distinction do you make between the operator and the +worker? + +_Ans._--The worker may be removed from the board. + +_Ques._--Are you influenced by animal magnetism? + +_Ans._--Entirely. + +_Ques._--Are you influenced by electricity? + +_Ans._--One and the same. + +_Ques._--Do the minds of the present operators influence the answers? + +_Ans._--Undoubtedly. + +_Ques._--Is it the result of magnetism? + +_Ans._--The power of giving out. + +_Ques._--Giving out what? + +_Ans._--Yielding magnetism. + +_Ques._--Which of the operators influences you most? + +_Ans._--Neither is worth without the other. + +_Ques._--Have you communications with the spirit world? + +_Ans._--Disembodied spirits--no. + +_Ques._--Can you be put to any practical use? + +_Ans._--Man will be introduced to the world of science. + +_Ques._--Is your information concerning the ordinary affairs of life of +any practical value? + +_Ans._--Not much, unless the worker is reliable as an informant. + +_Ques._--What is magnetism? + +_Ans._--Magnetism is the force of the universe. + +_Ques._--What is electricity? + +_Ans._--Electricity is the outward expression of the hidden force. + +_Ques._--Has magnetism or electricity anything to do with the polarity +of the needle? + +_Ans._--The interchange of magnetism throughout the entire universe. + +_Ques._--Give a more definite answer. + +_Ans._--Currents are exchanged from earth to air and from planet to +planet. + +_Ques._--Do these affect the mariner's compass? + +_Ans._--Yes. + +_Ques._--Can we control the local attraction of the compass? + +_Ans._--Yes. + +_Ques._--How? I exclaimed excitedly, as the thought flashed through my +mind that I was on the eve of a great discovery. + +_Ans._--By the substitution of some other attractive force? + +_Ques._--Name one. + +_Ans._--Magnetized iron.[3] + +_Ques._--Can the compass be so constructed as to be uninfluenced by +local attraction? + +_Ans._--No, inasmuch as all surroundings are themselves magnets or the +mediums of conveyance. + +_Ques._--Can the approach of storms be foretold by the amount of +electricity in the air? + +_Ans._--Storms are the disturbance of the equilibrium, and therefore can +be foretold when the atmospherical balance is understood. + +_Ques._--Can you give information not in the minds of the operators? + +_Ans._--Planchette is a tool, and does nothing of herself. + +_Ques._--A tool in the hands of whom? + +_Ans._--Of those who work her.[4] + +Now if these various answers came from the minds of the "workers," we +were asking questions which we ourselves were answering, we will say, +unawares, out of the depths of our consciousness. As a seeker after +truth, therefore, I became as much involved as the dreamer spoken of by +Jeremy Taylor in one of his sermons. A man who implicitly believed in +dreams, he relates--in effect--dreamed one night that all dreams were +false. "If," reasoned he on awakening, "dreams are indeed false, then is +this one false; therefore they are true. But if, as I have always +supposed, they are true, then is this dream true; therefore they must be +false." + +Planchette's oracular sayings became famous among the passengers who +thronged the room to hear its predictions and to ask questions. The trip +to which I refer was made in the early part of November, 1868, while the +Presidential election was in progress, and there was naturally great +curiosity on the part of the passengers to know how their several States +had voted. + +Of the six States asked about, Planchette gave the majority in figures +for one candidate or the other. On comparing these figures subsequently +with the published returns, it was found that not one answer was +correct--_not a single answer was even approximately true_. + +There was a certain shipmaster on board who had left his vessel in Rio +Janeiro, with directions to the mate to bring her to San Francisco, by +way of Cape Horn. The oracle was consulted as to the position of the +ship at that particular time. Without a moment's hesitation, the +latitude and longitude of the vessel were given, placing her somewhere +off Valparaiso (Chili). "That's just where _I_ put her!" cried the +master with an ejaculation of unfeigned surprise. On reaching San +Francisco shortly after, the vessel was discovered quietly tied up at +one of the wharves. I found too, on landing, that the prophecy, "You +will find important letters awaiting you from home," was not fulfilled, +neither in my case nor in that of the other "worker." + +Now in the case of putting down the position of the merchant vessel, the +"worker" who was operating with me at the time did not know how to plot +the position of a ship at sea, after the manner of seamen; and although +the method of stating a ship's position was perfectly familiar to me, +yet I _anticipated_ that the answer in regard to her would have been +given in general and indefinite terms. What was my astonishment, then, +to find distinctly written out, "Latitude 35 deg. 30 min. S.; longitude +98 deg. 40 min. W." True this position was about four thousand miles out +of the way, but where did the answer, such as it was, come from? + +Continued experiments proved that in every instance where Planchette +attempted to foretell an event, it failed ignominiously; and while it +replied to questions with the utmost effrontery, it was rarely correct, +unless indeed, as it shrewdly said itself, "the worker was reliable as +an informant." + +Many months after these experiments, I found myself on the shores of +southern France. Here my associations were entirely different from those +I had known in the far-off Pacific, and, desirous of ascertaining how +Planchette would comport itself under the change of conditions, I +essayed further trials. + +It will be sufficient to give one example of the answers given: + +"What should one do," it was asked, "when life becomes unbearable?" The +answer was contained in one word, but written in such a scrawl as to be +illegible. The question was repeated, when the same word apparently was +written in reply, but still illegible. The question was put a third +time, when Planchette, with great energy, wrote in bold characters, and +distinct, the word PRAY. On comparing this with the former answers, they +were found to be the same. + +The question, however, is not as to the degree of faith to be placed in +the words of Planchette, but why should it write at all? + +In attempting to answer this question, I shall confine myself mainly to +the field of daily experience, and draw illustrations from such works +only as are familiar to the great majority of readers. + +Our twofold nature has often been noticed and commented upon. It has +been said that we are possessed of two separate and distinct characters: +the outward, which we present to the world, and with which we are in +some degree familiar ourselves, and that inner, deeper part of which we +know so little. + +St. Paul reveals the existence of our dual nature when he exclaims with +passionate fervor, "The good that I would I do not, but the evil which I +would not, that do I. I delight in the law of God after the _inner man_, +but I see _another law in my members_ warring against the law of my +mind." Xenophon gives, in the Cyropedia, a remarkable speech, expressing +almost precisely the same idea. Araspes, a young nobleman of Media, is +overwhelmed with mortification on being detected by Cyrus in an +indiscretion in regard to a captive princess. Chided by Cyrus, "Alas," +said he, "now I am come to a knowledge of myself, and find most plainly +that I have two souls: one that inclines me to good, another that +incites me to evil ..."--the animal versus the spiritual nature, +referred to by St. Paul. + +In another place St. Paul, speaking of the "Word of God," says it is +"quick and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even +to the _dividing asunder of soul and spirit_, and of the joints and +marrow...." Heb. iv. 12. Hence we may term the two elements of our +duality _soul_ and _spirit_, they being two separate and distinct +entities. + +The learned Doctor Whedon, in commenting on the forty-fourth verse of +the fifteenth chapter of Paul's Epistle to the Corinthians, where the +great apostle speaks of the resurrection, says the expression natural +body, as distinct from spiritual body, fails utterly to convey to the +mind of the English reader the apostle's true idea. "If," he says, "we +assume a difference between soul and spirit, and coin the word +_soulical_ as the antithesis of _spiritual_, we present his exact idea. +The Greek word _psyche_, soul or life, when used as antithetical to +_pneuma_, spirit, signifies that animating, formative, and thinking soul +or _anima_ which belongs to the animal, and which man, as animal, shares +as his lower nature with other animals. Its range is within the limits +of the five senses, within which limits it is able to think and to +reason. Such is the power of the highest animals. Overlying this is the +spirit which man shares with higher natures, by which thought transcends +the range of the senses, and man thinks of immensity, eternity, +infinity, immortality, the beautiful, the holy, and God--it is certain +that man's mind possesses both these classes or sets of thought." Now in +regard to the higher of these elements, there are very many well +authenticated cases where the extreme susceptibility of the mind (the +seat of these elements) to outward impressions, and the reaction of the +mental sensation on the nervous system, has led to the most singular +and, in some instances, even fatal results. So marvellously delicate is +this portion of our organization, that we are not always conscious of +this reaction, and as the reaction is conveyed from the nerve centres to +the muscular tissue, we actually find ourselves uttering words or making +motions unconsciously. So sensitive is the brain through the influence +of this higher nature, so subtle its functions, that it is often +impressed by means indiscernible to the bodily eye or to the ordinary +senses--by means just as mysterious as the action of magnetic attraction +or the course of the electric wave. + +Byron alludes to this exquisite susceptibility with no less of truth +than beauty: + + And slight withal may be the things which bring + Back on the heart the weight which it would fling + Aside for ever; it may be a sound, + A tone of music, summer's eve or spring, + A flower, the wind, the ocean, which shall wound, + _Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound_. + + And how or why we know not, _nor can trace_ + _Home to its cloud this lightning of the wind_ ... + +Having referred to the reaction of a mental sensation on the nervous +system, let us now examine the course by which the reaction proceeds. + +We are told by physiologists that stimuli applied to the nerves in +certain cases induce contraction or motion in the muscles by direct +conduction of a stimulus along a nerve, or by the conduction of a +stimulus to a nervous centre, whence it is reflected along another nerve +to the muscles. Not only mechanical and electrical, but _psychical_ +stimuli "excite the nerves, whether these are ideational, emotional, or +volitional. They proceed from the brain, being themselves sometimes +induced by external causes, and sometimes originating primarily in the +great nervous centres from the _operations of the instinct, the memory, +the reason, or the will_." + +When a stimulus of any kind, whether mechanical, chemical, electrical, +or vital, acts upon the living nervous substance, it produces an +impression on that nerve substance and excites within it some particular +change, and the property by which this takes place in the nerve +substance has been called its excitability or neurility. But the nerve +substance not only receives such an impression from a stimulus and is +excited to such a change, but it possesses the property of conducting +that impression in certain definite directions, and this property might +be spoken of as conductility. + +When such an impression is thus conducted simply along a nerve fibre, +and thence to a muscle, it induces or excites, as we have seen, the +contraction of that muscle, and so exercises what is called a _motor_ +function. + +The nerve cells appear to possess, beyond the simple excitability to +general stimuli, conductility, and the peculiar receptivity which is +essential to sensation, a special or more exalted kind of excitability +which is called into play under mental or psychical stimuli by the +changes produced in the gray matter[5] in the formation of ideas, +emotions, and the will.[6] + +Now if two sympathetic nerve systems operated upon by psychical stimuli +be directed to one and the same point, it is by no means difficult to +understand how the brains belonging to those systems may be brought into +telegraphic communication by means of the nerve fibres, the product of +the two minds evolved, and the resultant idea, by means of a simple +mechanical contrivance operated upon by the motor function already +explained, be transmitted to paper by the process of writing so familiar +to both. The action of the psychical stimuli on the nerve fibre, and its +transmission thence to the muscles resulting in the movement of the +board, is so subtle that we ourselves are not aware of its operation +except through the results produced. + +It has just been said that two minds may be brought into telegraphic +communication by means of nerve fibres. Let us see how far the +expression is justified by facts. There are few of us who have not +experienced the truth of Solomon's saying that "if two persons lie +together, they have _heat_; but how can one be warm alone?" Even the +close proximity of two persons affects their respective temperatures, +and heat and motion we know to be correlative. It has been shown by the +physicist that mechanical force producing motion is correlative with and +convertible into heat, heat into chemical force, chemical force into +electrical force, and electrical force into magnetic force. Moreover, +that each of these is correlative and convertible into the other, all +being thus interchangeable. + +"Now it is not to be supposed that the force acting in a nerve is +identical with electrical force, nor yet a peculiar kind of electricity, +nor even physically induced by it, as magnetism may be, but that in the +special action of the living nerve a force is generated peculiar to that +tissue, which is so correlated with electricity that an equivalent of +the one may in some yet unknown manner excite, give rise to, or even be +converted into the other. In this concatenation of the several forces of +nature, physical and vital, the force acting in a nerve may also be +correlated with chemical force, with the heat developed in the muscle, +and even with the peculiar molecular motions which produce muscular +contraction and all its accompanying physical and mechanical +consequences." If, then, two brains, one in London and one in New York, +may be brought into communication with each other through their +respective nerve systems and the common medium of the electric wire, and +both brought to bear on one idea--say the rate of exchange, consols, or +the price of gold--is it to be wondered at that two other brains, in +close proximity, may be brought into communication through the media of +the nerve fibres which are operated upon by a force so similar to that +which courses along the electric wire? Or is it strange that the two +sympathetic minds--two minds having a strong affinity for each +other--should combine and generate ideas? and having produced them, is +it strange they should give them expression in writing? Before the days +of Franklin, this might indeed appear strange, but it surely cannot be +so considered now. + +Such, then, is the rationale of what may be termed the automatic +writing, by means of Planchette, and such writing is simply a +manifestation of what has been named psychic force. Whether operated by +one or two persons, the rationale is the same. + +There is reason to believe that the phenomenon just explained was known +to the ancients, and that it was the origin of the oracles which formed +so important a feature, at one period, in the history of Greece; such, +for example, as the "Whispering Groves of Dodona," and the yet more +famous oracle of Delphi.[7] It is worthy of remark that these oracles +were not established at the first by the Greeks themselves. They were of +_foreign_ origin, having been first introduced from Egypt, then the seat +of learning. + +The secret of psychic force having been once discovered, it may easily +be conceived how it would be seized upon as a means of communicating, as +the pagans supposed, with beings of another world, and how readily the +more enlightened and designing would avail themselves of it as a means +to practise upon the credulity of a superstitious people. Such were the +cunning priesthood in the temples of pagan worship. They were quick to +take advantage of a discovery that offered so powerful a leverage, and +having once secured its services, they did not scruple to shape the +utterances to suit their own selfish ends. Frequently their answers were +so framed as to admit of a double interpretation. + +Croesus consulted the oracle of Delphi on the success that would +attend his invasion of the Medes. He was told that by passing the river +Halys a great empire would be ruined. He crossed, and the fall of his +own empire fulfilled the prophecy. Sometimes they were couched in vague +and mysterious terms, leaving those who solicited advice to put whatever +construction upon them their hopes or fears suggested. Compare, for +example, the first specimen of writing given in this article with the +descriptions we read in ancient history of the utterances of the Delphic +oracle. How vague and indefinite are its warnings! and then the +continual recurrence of the solemn admonition, "Hope and trust"--does it +not seem prophetic of some evil hour, when all one's hope and faith were +to be tried to the utmost? + +Suppose these words had been addressed to a superstitious person by the +priestess of a temple situated in the deep recesses of a dense forest, +among the toppling crags of some lofty mountain range, or near the +gloomy habitations of the dead: it could not have failed of making a +serious impression upon the mind. It was thus that the pagan priesthood +threw about their oracles everything that could inspire the mind of the +visitor with a sense of awe. We are told that the "sacred tripod" was +placed over the mouth of a cave whence proceeded a peculiar exhalation. + +On this tripod sat the Pythia--the priestess of Apollo--who, having +caught the inspiration, pronounced her oracles in extempore prose or +verse. The cave and the exhalations were mere accessories, stage +properties as it were, the more readily to impose upon those who came +to consult the oracle. So of the "sacred tripod," which was the symbol +merely of the real instrument which had given birth to this system of +fraud. + +Planchette, the "sacred tripod" of the ancients, uses language of +various styles. Sometimes it will not deign to speak at all; sometimes +its answers are vague and unmeaning; sometimes singularly concise and +pertinent. + +A very striking point of similarity is the occasional irrelevancy of the +answers. Tisamenus, soothsayer to the Greek army, consulted the oracle +at Delphi concerning his lack of offspring, when he was told by the +Pythia that he would win five glorious combats; and when Battus asked +about his voice he was told "to establish a city in Libya abounding in +fleeces." Such freaks are common with the modern Pythia. The resemblance +is complete. + +It is to the development of psychical force, as shown by Planchette, +that the phenomena known as mesmerism and the so-called spiritualism are +undoubtedly due. In some persons this force is found to exist +abnormally, when its manifestations are certainly extraordinary. The +trouble is that we are not always satisfied with its feeble and +uncertain utterances, and are too often impelled by cupidity or other +equally unworthy motive to practise the charlatanism of the crafty +priests of old. + +In the time of Nebuchadnezzar the Chaldean priesthood, the magicians and +astrologers, and those who had understanding in all visions and dreams, +possessed all the learning of the known world. Much of their learning +was transmitted to Egypt and thence to Greece, but much of it we know +was lost to the world. From all that we can gather now, however, we may +feel assured that they were not ignorant of the existence of what has +been termed psychic force, or a sixth sense, or unconscious cerebration +(for our terminology in all speculations bordering: on the +"_unknowable_" must necessarily be uncertain), and as a neighboring +people, the Israelites, communicated with their God through that medium, +they supposed, as was natural, that they could communicate with their +gods in the same way. And they were perfectly sincere in that belief. +But in the process of time and migration the theology of the Greeks came +to bear little resemblance to that of the Chaldeans. The dignity of the +priestly office and the influence of the priesthood became greatly +diminished. That the religion of these several nations had one common +origin, and that the priests and prophets of God's chosen people had +many imitators among other nations, there is abundant proof. + +The story of the origin of the Pythia, for example, contains points not +without resemblance to certain passages in our own early sacred history. +The Son of God is at enmity with the serpent; the serpent pursues a +woman, and is trodden under foot by the Son. Zeus is the god of the +Greeks; Apollo is his son; Leto--or Latona--is pursued by Python, the +serpent, and is slain by Apollo. To commemorate this deed a temple was +erected at Delhi to Apollo, and the priestess was called the Pythia. +Regarded as the symbol of wisdom by the Egyptians, the serpent came to +be considered by the Greeks as representing the principle of evil.[8] +Ages before this, however, the history of our first parents, the +temptation, and the fall, and the prophecy that the Son should bruise +the serpent's head, had been recorded. The wonderful Chaldeans too had +mapped out the same story among the eternal stars, their great designs +being still traceable on the celestial globes of our common schools. + +But the intellectual Greek was not long to be imposed upon. Men who +could discourse on the immortality of the soul had not much faith in the +nonsense often put forth by a priestess of Apollo. Themistocles made a +tool of the oracle in order to serve his own purposes, and Demosthenes +publicly denounced it. Convinced that the oracle was subsidized by +Philip of Macedon, and instructed to speak in his favor, he boldly +declared that the Pythia _philippized_, and bade the Athenians and +Thebans remember that "Pericles and Epaminondas, instead of listening to +the frivolous answers of the oracle, the resort of the ignorant and +cowardly, consulted only reason in the choice of their measures." + +Had there been a London magistrate at hand in the days of the great +Athenian orator, it would certainly have gone hard with the poor Pythia. + +No observer of human nature can doubt that we are bound by an "electric +chain," and that we are liable to impressions, the sources of which are +often unknown to us. Nor can we doubt that there have been abnormally +sensitive persons, like Swedenborg, whose receptivity was such that the +brain could be impressed by means which would entirely fail with the +normal brain. But in respect to the professional mediums, +notwithstanding the antiquity of the class and their many advocates, it +remains to be shown where they have been of the slightest practical +utility, or served any good or useful end. Nay more. It remains to be +shown wherein the modern medium is entitled to a particle more of +respect than the medium of Endor. + + S. B. LUCE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[3] This answer is the more remarkable from the fact that my mind was +intent upon the revelation of some new theory, while the other operator +was not at all familiar with the subject. The simplicity of the answer, +and its statement of what had been the common practice for years past, +made me feel for the moment that I had been very cleverly hoaxed. + +[4] In every instance the writing of Planchette has been copied +_verbatim_. + +[5] The gray matter of the nervous centres, the precise nature of which +is unknown. + +[6] "Outlines of Physiology." + +[7] There is no doubt that spirit-writing is very ancient, China alone +furnishing sufficient evidence of the fact. + +"Spirit-writing," says Taylor, "is of two kinds, according as it is done +with or without a material instrument. The first kind is in full +practice in China, where, like other rites of divination, it is probably +ancient. It is called 'descending of the pencil,' and is especially used +by the literary classes. When a Chinese wishes to consult a god in this +way, he sends for a professional medium. Before the image of the god are +set candles and incense, and an offering of tea or mock money. In front +of this on another table is placed an oblong tray of dry sand. The +writing instrument is a V-shaped wooden handle, two or three feet long, +with a wooden tooth fixed at its point. Two persons hold this +instrument, each grasping one leg of it, and the point resting on the +sand. Proper prayers and charms induce the god to manifest his presence +by a movement of the point in the sand, and thus the response is +written, and there only remains the somewhat difficult and doubtful task +of deciphering it...."--_"Primitive Culture." By Ed. B. Taylor. Vol. I., +p. 133._ + +[8] The serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field; "Be ye wise +as serpents."--_Bible._ + + + + +ALNASCHAR. + +1876. + + + Here's yer toy balloons! All sizes. + Twenty cents for that. It rises + Jest as quick as that 'ere, Miss, + Twice as big. Ye see it is + Some more fancy. Make it square + Fifty for 'em both. That's fair. + + That's the sixth I've sold since noon. + Trade's reviving. Just as soon + As this lot's worked off I'll take + Wholesale figgers. Make or break, + That's my motto! Then I'll buy + In some first-class lottery: + One half ticket, numbered right-- + As I dreamed about last night. + + That'll fetch it. Don't tell me! + When a man's in luck, you see, + All things help him. Every chance + Hits him like an avalanche. + Here's your toy balloons, Miss. Eh? + You won't turn your face this way? + Mebbe you'll be glad some day! + + With that clear ten-thousand prize + This yer trade I'll drop, and rise + Into wholesale. No! I'll take + Stocks in Wall street. Make or break, + That's my motto! With my luck, + Where's the chance of being stuck? + Call it Sixty Thousand, clear, + Made in Wall street in one year. + + Sixty thousand! Umph! Let's see. + Bond and mortgage'll do for me. + Good. That gal that passed me by + Scornful like--why, mebbe I + Some day'll hold in pawn--why not?-- + All her father's prop. She'll spot + What's my little game, and see + What I'm after's her. He! he! + + He! he! When she comes to sue-- + Let's see. What's the thing to do? + Kick her? No! There's the perliss! + Sorter throw her off like this! + Hello! Stop! Help! Murder! Hey! + There's my whole stock got away! + Kiting on the house tops! Lost! + All a poor man's fortin! Cost? + Twenty dollars! Eh! What's this? + Fifty cents! God bless ye, Miss! + + BRET HARTE. + + + + +AUT DIABOLUS AUT NIHIL. + +THE TRUE STORY OF A HALLUCINATION. + + +The career of the Abbe Gerard had been an eminently successful +one--successful in every way; and even he himself was forced to +acknowledge it to be so as he reviewed his past life, sitting by a +blazing fire in his comfortable apartment in the Rue Miromeuil previous +to dressing for the Duc de Frontignan's dinner-party. Born of poor +parents in the south of France, entering the priesthood at an early age, +having received but a meagre education, and that chiefly confined to a +superficial knowledge of the most elementary treatises on theology, he +had, in twenty-five years, and solely by his own exertions, unaided by +patronage, obtained a most desirable berth in one of the leading Paris +churches, thereby becoming the recipient of a handsome salary and being +enabled to indulge his tastes as a dilettante and _homme du monde_. The +few hours snatched from those absorbed by his parochial duties he had +ever devoted to study, and his application and determination had borne +him golden fruit. Moreover, he had so cultivated his mind, and made such +good use of the rare opportunities afforded him in early life of +associating with gentlemen, that when now at length he found his +presence in demand at every house in the "Faubourg" where wit and +graceful learning were appreciated, no one would ever have suspected he +had not been bred according to the strictest canons of social +refinement. + +But in his upward progress such had been his experience of life that +when, during the brief intervals of breathing time he allowed himself, +he would look below and above, he was forced to confess that at every +step a belief, an illusion had been destroyed and trodden under foot, +and he would wonder, while bracing himself for a new effort, how it +would all end, and whether the mitre he lusted for would not after all, +perhaps, be placed upon a head that doubted even the existence of a God. +He was not a bad man, but merely one of that class who have embraced the +priesthood merely as a means of raising themselves from obscurity to +eminence, and have in their intercourse with the world discovered many +flaws and blemishes in what they may at one time have considered +perfect. When his reason rejected many of the fables hitherto cherished +and believed in, the Abbe Gerard was at the beginning inclined to +abandon in despair the attempt to discern the true from the false, and +this all the more that he saw the time thus spent was, in a worldly +sense, but wasted, and that the good things of this world come to such +reapers as gather wheat and tares alike, well knowing there is a market +for them both. + +During a certain period, therefore, of his struggle upward, while his +worldly ambition was aiding by sly insinuations and comparisons the +deadly work already begun by the destruction of his dreams, Henri Gerard +was nigh being an atheist. But the nature of the man was too finely +sensual for this phase to be lasting, and when at length he found +himself so far successful in his worldly aspirations as to be tolerably +sure of their complete fulfilment; when at length he found time to +examine spiritual matters apart from their direct bearing upon his +social altitude, his aesthetic sense--which by this time had necessarily +developed--he was struck by the exquisite _beauty_ of Christianity, and +thus, as a shallow philosophy had nearly induced him to become an +atheist, a deep and sensual spirit of sentimentality nearly made him a +Christian. His Madonna was the Madonna of Raphael, not that of Albert +Duerer: the woman whose placid grace of countenance creates an emotion +more subtly voluptuous than desire; not she in whose face can be +discerned the human mother of the Man of Sorrows and of Him divinely +acquainted with all grief. The Holy Spirit he adored was not the Friend +of the broken-hearted or the Healer of the blind Bartimoeus, but He +"who feedeth among the lilies"--the Alpha and Omega of all aesthetic +conception. Christianity he looked upon as the highest moral expression +of artistic perfection, and he regarded it with the same admiration he +accorded to the Antinous and the Venus of Milo. He was not, however, by +nature a pagan as some men are--men who, in the words of De Musset, +"Sont venu trop tard dans un monde trop vieux"; but the atmosphere in +which his early years had been spent had been so antagonistic to the +impulses of his nature, his inner life had been so cramped in and +starved, that when at length the key of gold opening the prison door let +in the outer air, his spirit revelled in all the wild extravagance so +often accompanying sudden and long wished-for emancipation. His nature +was perhaps not one that could have been attuned to a perfect harmony +with that of a Greek or Roman of the golden days, but one better +calculated to enjoy the hybrid atmosphere of the Italian Renaissance; +and he would have been in his element in the Rucellai Gardens, +conversing with feeble little Cosimino, or laughing with Buondelmonte +and Luigi Alamanni. He did not believe in the narrative of the Bible, +but its precepts and tendencies he appreciated and admired, although, it +must be confessed, he did not always put himself out to follow them. In +his heart he utterly rejected all idea of a future life, since it was +incompatible with his conception of the artistic unity of this; but he +would blandly acknowledge to himself that there are perhaps things we +cannot comprehend, and that beauty may have no term. He assimilated, so +far as in him lay, his duties as a priest with his ideas as a man of +culture; and his sermons were ever of love; sermons which, winged as +they were with impassioned eloquence, were deservedly popular with all: +from the scholar, who delighted in them as intellectual feasts, to the +fashionable Paris woman of the second empire, who was enchanted at +finding in the quasi-fatalistic and broadly charitable views enunciated +therein means whereby her vulgar amours might be considered in a light +more pleasing to herself and more consoling to her husband. + +On the Sunday afternoon preceding the evening on which we introduce him +to the reader the Abbe had departed from his usual custom, and, by +especial request of his cure, had preached a most remarkable sermon upon +the Personality of Satan. It is a vulgar error to suppose that men +succeed best when their efforts are enlivened by a real belief in the +matter in hand. Not only some men have such a superabundance of fervid +imagination that they can, for the time being, provoke themselves into a +pseudo belief in what they know in their saner moments to be false, but +moreover a large class of men are endowed with minds so restless and so +finely strung that they can play with a sophism with marvellous +dexterity and skill, while lacking that vigorous and comprehensive grasp +of mind which the lucid exposition of a hidden truth necessitates. The +Abbe Gerard belonged a little to both these classes of beings; and +moreover, his vanity as an intellectual man provoked him to +extraordinary exertions in cases wherein he fancied he might win for +himself the glory of strengthening and verifying matters which in +themselves perhaps lacked almost the elements of existence. "Spiritual +truths," he once cynically remarked to Sainte-Beuve, whom, by the way, +he detested, "will take care of themselves; it is the nursing of +spiritual falsehood which needs all the care of the clergy." On the +Sunday in question he had surpassed himself. With biting irony he had +annihilated the disbelievers in Divine punishment, and then, with +persuasive and overwhelming eloquence, he had urged the necessity of +believing not only in hell, but in the personality of the Prince of +Evil. Women had fainted in their terror; men had been frightened into +seeking the convenient solace of the confessional, and the Archbishop +had written him a letter of the warmest thanks. + +It was a triumph which a man of the nature of the Abbe Gerard +particularly enjoyed. The idea of finding himself the successful reviver +of an inanimate doctrine, while secretly conscious that he was, in +reality, a skeptic in matters of dogmatically vital importance, was to a +mind so prone to delight in paradoxes eminently agreeable. It pleased +him to see the letter of the Archbishop lying upon a volume of Strauss, +and to read the glowing and extravagant praise lavished on him in the +pages of the "Univers" after having enjoyed a sparkling draught of +Voltaire. + +Such was the Abbe Gerard--the type of a class. The Duc de Frontignan, +with whom he was dining on the evening this story opens, was or rather +_is_ in many ways a no less remarkable personage in Paris society. +Possessing rank, birth, and a splendid income, he had inherited more +than a fair share of the good gifts of Providence, being endowed not +only with considerable mental power, but with the tact to use that power +to the best advantage. Although beyond doubt _clever_, he was +universally esteemed a much more intellectual man than he really was, +and this through no voluntary deceitfulness on his part, but owing to a +method he had unconsciously adopted of exhibiting his wares with their +most favorable aspect to the front. He was well read, but not deeply +read, and yet all Paris considered him a profound scholar; he was quick +and epigrammatic in his appreciation and expression of ideas, as men of +cultivation and varied experience are apt to be, but he enjoyed the +reputation of being a wit, and finally having merely lounged through the +world, impelled by a spirit of restlessness, begotten of great wealth +and idleness, society looked upon him as a bold and adventurous +traveller. One gift he most certainly possessed: he was vastly amusing +and entertaining, and resembled in one respect the Abbe Galiani, as +described by Diderot; for he was indeed "a treasure on rainy days, and +if the cabinet-makers made such things, everybody would have one in the +country." He not only knew everybody in Paris, but he possessed an +extraordinary faculty of drawing people out, and forcing them to make +themselves amusing. No man was in his society long before he discovered +himself openly discussing his most cherished hobby, or airily +scattering as seed for trivial conversation the fruit of long years of +experience and reflection. His hotel in the Rue de Varenne was the +resort of all that was most remarkable and extraordinary in the +fashionable, the artistic, the diplomatic, and the scientific world. His +intimacy with the Abbe Gerard was one of long standing: they mutually +amused each other; the keen intellect of the priest found much that was +interesting in the shallow but attractive and brilliant nature of the +layman; while the Duke entertained feelings of the warmest admiration +for a man who, having risen from nothing, enlivened the most exclusive +coteries with his graceful learning and charming wit. + +It was one of the peculiar whims of Octave de Frontignan never to have +an even number of guests at his dinner table. His soirees indeed were +attended by hundreds, but his dinner parties rarely exceeded seven +(including himself), and in many cases he only invited two. On this +especial occasion the only guest asked to meet the Abbe Gerard was the +celebrated diplomatist and millionaire the Prince Paul Pomerantseff. +This most extraordinary personage had for the past six years kept Europe +in a constant state of excitement by reason of his munificence and +power. Brought up under the direct personal supervision of the Emperor +of Russia, he had done a little of everything and succeeded in all he +had undertaken. He had distinguished himself as a diplomatist and as a +soldier, and had left traces of his indomitable will in many State +papers as on many an enemy's face during the period of the Crimean war. +In London, but perhaps more especially in "the shires," his face was +well known and liked. Duchesses' daughters had sighed for him, but in +vain; and the continuance of his celibacy appeared to be as certain as +the splendor of his fortune. The Abbe Gerard had known him for many +years, and proved no exception to the general rule, for although their +friendship had never ripened into great intimacy, there was perhaps no +man in the wide circle of his acquaintance in whose society the priest +took a more lively pleasure. + +"Late as usual!" cried the Duke, as Gerard hurried into the room ten +minutes after the appointed hour. "Prince, if you were so unpunctual in +your diplomatic duties as the Abbe is in his social (and I _fear_ in his +spiritual!), where would the world be?" + +The Abbe stopped short, pulled out his watch, and looked at it with a +comically contrite air. + +"Only ten minutes late, and I am sure when you think of the amount of +business I have to transact you can afford to forgive me," he said as he +advanced and shook hands warmly with his friends. + +"You have no idea," he continued, throwing himself lazily down upon a +lounge--"you have no idea of the amount of folly I am forced to listen +to in a day! Every woman whose bad temper has got her into trouble with +her husband, and every man whose stupidity has led him into quarrelling +with his wife--one and all they come to me, pour out their misfortunes +in my ears, and expect me to arrange their affairs." + +The servant announcing dinner interrupted the poor Abbe's complaints. + +"I tell you what I should do," said Pomerantseff when they were seated +at table. "I should say to every man and woman who came to me on such +errands, 'My dear friend, my business is with your spiritual welfare, +and with that alone. The doctor and solicitor must take care of your +worldly concerns. It is my duty to insure your eternal felicity when the +tedium of delirium tremens and the divorce court is all over, and that +is really all one man can do.'" + +"By the way, talking of spiritual matters," interrupted the Duke, +"Pomerantseff has been telling me his experience with a man you detest, +Abbe." + +"I detest no man." + +"I can only judge from your own words," rejoined Frontignan. "Did you +not tell me years ago that you thought Home a more serious evil than the +typhoid fever?" + +"Ah, Home the medium!" cried Gerard in great disgust. "I admit you are +right. It is not possible, Prince, that you encourage Frontignan in his +absurd spiritualism." + +The Prince smiled gravely. + +"I do not pretend to encourage any man in anything, _mon cher Abbe_." + +"But you cannot believe in it!" + +"I do most certainly believe in it." + +"_Dieu de Dieu!_" exclaimed Gerard. "What folly! What are we all coming +to?" + +"It has always struck me as remarkable," said the Duke, "that with all +your taste for the curious and unknown, you have never been tempted into +investigating the matter, Abbe." + +"I am, as you say, a lover of the curious," replied the priest, "but not +of such empty trash as spiritualism. I have enough cares with the +realities of this world without bringing upon myself the misery of +investigating the possibilities of the next." + +"That is a sentiment worthy of Abbe Dubois," said Pomerantseff laughing, +and then the Duke, suddenly making some inquiry relative to the train +which was to take him and the Prince to Brunoy on a shooting expedition +the following morning, the subject for the nonce was dropped. It was +destined, however, to be revived later in the evening, for when after +dinner they were comfortably ensconced in the _tabagie_, Frontignan, who +had been greatly excited by some extraordinary manifestations related to +him by the Prince before the arrival of the Abbe, said abruptly: + +"Now, Gerard, you must really let us convert you to spiritualism." + +"Never!" cried the Abbe. + +"It is absurd for you to disbelieve, for you know nothing about it, +since you have never been willing to attend a _seance_." + +"I _feel_ it is absurd, and that is enough." + +"I myself do not exactly believe in _spirits_," said Frontignan +thoughtfully. + +"_A la bonne heure!_ Of course not!" cried the Abbe. "You see, Prince, +he is not quite mad after all!" + +The Prince said nothing. + +"I cannot doubt the existence of some extraordinary phenomena," +continued the young Duke thoughtfully; "for I cannot bring myself to +such an exquisite pitch of philosophical imbecility as to doubt my own +senses; but, to my thinking, the exact nature of the phenomena, remains +as yet an open question. I have a theory of my own about it, and +although it may be absurd and fantastical, it is certainly no more so +than that which would have us believe the spirits of the dear old lazy +dead come back to the scenes of their lives and miseries to pull our +noses and play tambourines." + +"And may I ask you," inquired the Prince, with a touch of sarcasm in his +voice, "what this theory of yours may be?" + +"I will give you," said the Duke, ignoring the sneer, and stretching +himself back in his chair as he sent a ring of smoke curling daintily +toward the ceiling--"I will give you with great pleasure the result of +my reflection about this matter. It is my belief that the things--the +tangible things we create, or rather cause to appear, come from within +ourselves, and are portions of ourselves. We produce them, in the first +instance, generally with hands linked, but afterward when our nervous +organizations are more harmonized to them, they come to us of +themselves, and even against our wills. It is my belief that these are +what we term our passions and our emotions, to whose existence the +electric fluid and nervous ecstasy we cause to circulate and induce by +sitting with hands linked, merely gives a tangible and corporeal +expression. We all know that grief, joy, remorse, and many other +sensations and emotions can kill as surely and in many cases as quickly +as an assassin's dagger, and it is a well known scientific fact that +there are certain nerves in the hand between certain fingers which have +a distinct _rapport_ with the mind, and by which the mind can be +controlled. Since this is so, why is it that under certain given +conditions, such as sitting with hands linked--that thus sitting, and +while the electric fluid, drawn out by the contact of our hands, forms a +powerful medium between the inner and the outward being--why is it, I +say, that these strong emotions I have mentioned should not take +advantage of this strange river flowing to and fro between the +conceptional and the visual to float before us for a time, and give us +an opportunity of seeing and touching them, who influence our every +action in life? It is my belief that I can shake hands with my emotions; +that my conscience can become tangible and pinch my ear just as surely +as it can and does keep people awake at night by agitating their nervous +system, or in other words, by mentally pinching their ears." + +"That is certainly a very fantastical idea," said the Abbe smiling. "But +if you have ever seen any of your emotions, what do they look like? I +should like to see my hasty temper sitting beside me for a minute; I +should take advantage of his being corporealized to pay him back in his +own coin, and give him a good thrashing." + +"It is difficult," said the Duke gravely, "to recognize one's emotions +when brought actually face to face with them, although they have been +living in us all our lives--turning our hair gray or pulling it out; +making us stout or lean, upright or bent over. Moreover, our minor +emotions, except in cases where the medium is remarkably powerful, +outwardly express themselves to us as perfumes, or sometimes in lights. +I have reason, however, to believe I have recognized my conscience." + +"I should have thought he'd have been too sleepy to move out!" laughed +the Prince. + +"That just shows how wrongly one man judges another," said Octave +lazily, without earnestness, but with a certain something in his tone +that betokened he was dealing with realities. "You probably think that I +am not much troubled with a conscience; whereas the fact is that my +conscience, with a strong dash of remorse in it, is a very keen one. +Many years ago a certain episode changed the whole color and current of +my life inwardly to myself, although of course outwardly I was much the +same. Now, this episode aroused my conscience to a most extraordinary +degree, and I never 'sit' now without seeing a female figure; with a +face like that of the heroine of my episode, dressed in a queer robe, +woven of every possible color except white, who shudders and trembles as +she passes before me, holding in her arms large sheets of glass, through +which dim Bohemian glass colors pass flickering every moment." + +"What a very disagreeable thing to see this weather," said the +Abbe--"everything shuddering and shaking!" + +"Have you ever discovered why she goes about like the wife of a +glazier?" asked the Prince. + +"For a long time I could not make out what they could be, these large +panes of glass with variegated colors passing through them; but now I +think I know." + +"Well?" + +"They are dreams waiting to be fitted in." + +"Bravo!" cried the Abbe. "That is really a good idea! If I had only the +pen of Charles Nodier, what a charming _feuilleton_ I could write about +all this!" + +Pomerantseff laid his hand affectionately on the Duke's shoulder. "_Mon +cher ami_," he said with a grave smile, "believe me, you are wholly at +fault in your speculations. Gerard here of course, naturally enough, +since he has never been willing to 'sit,' thinks we are both madmen, and +that the whole thing is folly; but you and I, who have sat and seen many +marvellous manifestations, know that it is not folly. Take the word of +a man who has had greater experience in the matter than yourself, and +who is himself a most powerful medium: the theory you have just +enunciated is utterly false." + +"Prove that it is false." + +"I cannot prove it, but wait and see." + +"Nay; I have given it all up now. I will not meddle with spiritualism +again. It unhinged my nerves and destroyed my peace of mind while I was +investigating it." + +The Prince shrugged his shoulders. + +"Prince, leave him alone," said the Abbe smiling. "His theory is a great +deal more sensible than yours; and if I could bring myself to believe +that at your _seances_ any real phenomenon _does_ take place (which of +course no sane person can), I should be much more apt to accept +Frontignan's interpretation of the matter. Let us follow it out a little +further, for the mere sake of talking nonsense. Doubtless the dominant +passion of a man would be the most likely to appear--that is to say, +would be the most tangible." + +"That would depend," replied the Duke, "upon circumstances. If the +phenomenon should take place while the man is alone, doubtless it would +be so; but if while at a _seance_ attended by many people, the +apparition would be the product of the master passions of all, and thus +it is that many of the visions which appear at _seances_ where the +sitters are not harmonized are most remarkable and unrecognizable +anomalies." + +"I thought I understood from Mme. de Girardin that certain spirits +always appeared." + +"Pooh, pooh! Mme. de Girardin never went deep enough into the matter. +The most ravishing vision I ever saw was when I fancied I saw love." + +"What? Love! An emanation from yourself?" + +The Duke sighed. + +"Ah, that is what proved to me that what I saw could not be love. That +sentiment has been too long extinguished in me to awaken to a corporeal +expression." + +"What made you think it was love?" asked Pomerantseff. + +"It was a white dove with something I cannot express that was human +about it. I felt ineffably happy while it was with me." + +"Your theory is false, I tell you," said the Russian. "What you saw +probably was love." + +"Then it would have been God!" cried the Abbe. + +"Why?" + +"I believe with Novalis that 'love is the highest reality,'" replied +Gerard; then he added with a laugh, "No, Duke, what you saw was an +emanation from yourself--a master passion. It was the corporeal +embodiment of your love of pigeon-shooting!" + +"Perhaps," laughed the Duke. + +"I tell you what, _mon ami_," said Pomerantseff rising, as he saw the +Abbe making preparations to depart. "I am glad that my appetite, +corporealized and separated from my discretion, is not in your wine +cellar. Your Johannisberg would suffer!" + +"Prince, you must drive me home," said the Abbe. "I cannot get into a +draughty cab at this hour of the night." + +"_Tres volontiers!_ Good night, Duke. Remember to-morrow morning, at +half-past nine, at the Gare de Lyon," said the Prince. + +"Remember to-morrow night at half-past ten, at Mme. de Langeac's," +bawled the Abbe; and so they left. The young nobleman hurried down the +cold staircase and into the Prince's brougham. + +"What a pity," exclaimed the Abbe when they were once fairly started, +"that a man with all the mind of De Frontignan should give himself up to +such wild ideas and dreams!" + +"You are not very complimentary," rejoined the other smiling gravely; +"for you know that so far as believing in spirits I am as bad if not +worse than he is." + +"Ah, but _you_ are jesting." + +"On my honor as a gentleman, I am not jesting. See here." As he spoke +Pomerantseff seized the Abbe's hand. "You heard me tell the Duke just +now that I believed he had seen the spirit of love. Well, the sermon you +preached the day before yesterday, which all Paris is talking about, and +in which you endeavored to prove the personality of the devil to be a +fact, was truer than perhaps you believed when you preached it. Why +should not Frontignan have seen the spirit of love _when I know and have +seen the devil_?" + +"_Mon ami_, you are insane!" cried Gerard. "Why, the devil does not +exist!" + +"I tell you I have seen him--the God of all Evil, the Prince of +Desolation!" cried the other in an excited voice. "And what is more, _I +will show him to you_!" + +"Show the devil to _me_!" exclaimed the Abbe, half terrified, half +amused. "Why, you are out of your mind!" + +The Prince laid his other hand upon the arm of the Abbe, who could feel +he was trembling with excitement. + +"You know my address," he said in a quick, passionate voice. "When you +feel--as I tell you you surely will--desirous of investigating this +further, send for me, and I promise, on my honor as a gentleman, to show +you the devil, so that you cannot doubt. I will do this on one +condition." + +The Abbe felt almost faint; for apart from the wildness of the words +thus abruptly and unexpectedly addressed to him, the hand of the Prince +which lay upon his own, as if to keep him still, seemed to be pouring +fire and madness into him. He tried to withdraw it, but the other +grasped the fingers tight. + +"On one condition," repeated Pomerantseff in a lower tone. + +"What condition?" murmured the poor Abbe. + +"That you trust yourself entirely to me until we reach the place of +meeting." + +"Prince, let go my hand! You are hurting me! I will promise to do as you +say when I want to go to your infernal meeting." + +He wrenched his hand away, pulled down the carriage window and let the +cold night air in. + +"Pomerantseff, you are a madman; you are dangerous. Why the devil did +you grasp my hand in that way? My arm is numb." + +The Prince laughed. + +"It is only electricity. I was determined, since you doubted the +existence of the devil, to make you promise to come and see him." + +"I never promised!" exclaimed the Abbe. "I only promised to trust myself +to you if the horrible desire should ever seize me to investigate your +mad words further. But you need not be afraid of that. God forbid I +should indulge in such folly!" + +The Prince smiled. + +"God has nothing to do with this," he remarked simply. "You will come." + +The carriage had now turned up the street in which the Abbe lived, and +they were but a few doors from his house. + +"My dear Prince," said Gerard earnestly, "let me say a few words to you +at parting. You know I am not a bigot, so that your words--which many +might think blasphemous--I care nothing about; but remember we are in +the Paris of the nineteenth century, not in the Paris of Cazotte, and +that we are eminently practical nowadays. Had you asked me to go with +you to see some curious atrocity, no matter how horrible, I might, were +it interesting, have accepted; but when you invite me to go with you to +see the devil you really must excuse me; it is too absurd." + +"Very well," replied Prince Pomerantseff. "Of course I know you will +come; but think the matter over well. Remember, I promise to show the +devil to you so that you can never doubt of his personality again. This +is not one of the wonders of electro-biology, but simply a fact: _the +devil exists, and you shall see him_. Good night." + +Gerard, as he turned into his _porte cochere_, and made his way up +stairs, was more struck than perhaps he confessed even to himself by the +quiet tone of certainty and assurance in which the Prince uttered these +words; and on reaching his apartment he sat down by the blazing fire, +lighted a cigarette, and began considering in all its bearings what he +felt convinced was a most remarkable case of mania and mental +derangement. In the first place, was the Prince deceived himself, or +merely endeavoring to deceive another? The latter theory he at once +rejected; not only the character and breeding of the man, but his +nervous earnestness about this matter, rendered such a supposition +impossible. Then he himself was deceived--and yet how improbable! Gerard +could remember nothing in what he knew or had heard of the Prince that +could lead him to suppose his brain was of the kind charlatans and +pseudo-magicians can successfully bewitch. On the contrary, although of +a country in which the grossest superstitions are rife, he himself had +led such an active, healthy life, partly in Russia and partly in +England, that his brain could hardly be suspected of derangement. An +intimate and practical acquaintance with most of the fences in "the +shires," and all the leading statesmen of Europe, can hardly be +considered compatible with a morbid disposition and superstitious +nature. + +No; the Abbe confessed to himself that the man who deceived Pomerantseff +must have been of no ordinary ability. That he had been deceived was +beyond all question, but it was certainly marvellous. In practical +matters, the Abbe was even forced to confess to himself, he would +unhesitatingly take the Prince's advice, sooner than trust to his own +private judgment; and yet here was this model of keen, healthy, worldly +wisdom gravely inviting him to meet the devil face to face, and not only +this, but promising that it should be no unintelligible freak of +electro-biology, but as a simple fact. Gerard smoked thirty cigarettes +without coming to any satisfactory solution of the enigma. What if after +all he, the Abbe Gerard, for once should abandon the line of conduct he +had laid down for himself, and, to satisfy his curiosity, and perhaps +with the chance of restoring to its proper equilibrium a most valuable +and comprehensive mind, overlook his determination never to endanger his +peace of mind by meddling with the affairs of spiritualists? He could +picture to himself the whole thing: they would doubtless be in a +darkened room; an apparition clothed in red, and adorned with the +traditional horns, would make its appearance, and there would very +likely be no apparent evidence of fraud. Even supposing some portion of +the absurd theory enunciated by the Duke de Frontignan were true, and +some strange thing begotten of electric fluid and overwrought +imagination were to make its appearance, that could hardly be considered +by a sane man as being equivalent to an interview with the devil. The +Abbe told himself that it would be most likely impossible to _detect_ +any fraud, but he felt convinced that should the Prince find this +phenomenon pooh-poohed, after a full investigation, by a man of sense +and culture, his faith in it would be shaken, and ere long he would come +to despise it. + +All the remarkable stories he had heard about spiritualism from Mme. de +Gerardin and others, and which he hitherto paid no heed to, came back +to-night to the Abbe as he sat ruminating over the extraordinary offer +just made him. He had heard of dead people appearing, and _that_ was +sufficiently absurd, for he did not believe in a future life; but the +devil----The idea was preposterous! Poor Luther, indeed, might throw his +ink-pot at him, but no enlightened Roman Catholic priest could be +expected to believe in his existence, no matter how much he might be +forced--for obvious reasons--to preach about it, and represent it as a +fact in sermons. Yes; he would unhesitatingly consent to investigate the +matter, and discover the fraud he felt certain was lurking somewhere, +but that the Prince seemed to feel so certain of his consent; and he +feared by thus fulfilling an idly expressed prophecy to plunge the +unhappy man still deeper in his slough of superstition. One thing was +certain, the Abbe told himself with a smile--nothing on earth or from +heaven or hell--if the two latter absurdities existed--could make _him_ +believe in the devil. No, not even if the devil should come and take him +by the hand, and all the hosts of heaven flock to testify to his +identity. By this time, having smoked and thought himself into a state +of blasphemous idiocy, our worthy divine threw away his cigarette, went +to bed, and read himself into a nightmare with a volume of Von Helmont. +The following morning still found him perplexed as to what course to +adopt in this matter. As luck (or shall we say--the devil?) would have +it, while he was trifling in a listless way with his breakfast, there +called to see him the only priest in whose judgment, purity, and +religious fervor he had any confidence. It is probable, to such an +extent was his mind engrossed by the subject, that no matter who might +have called, he would have discussed the extraordinary conduct of Prince +Pomerantseff with him; but insomuch as the visitor chanced to be the +very man best calculated to direct his judgment in the matter, he, +without unnecessary delay, laid the whole affair before him. + +"You see, _mon cher_," said Gerard in conclusion, "my position is just +this: It appears to me that this person, whom I will not name, has been +trifled with by Home and other so-called spiritualists to such an extent +that his mind is really in danger. Now, although of course we are +forbidden to have any dealings with such people, or to participate in +any way in their infamous, foolish, and unholy practices, surely it +would be the act of a Christian if a clear, healthy-minded man were to +expose the fraud, and thus save to society a man of such transcendent +ability as my friend. Moreover, should I determine to accept his mad +invitation, I hardly think I could be said to participate in any of the +scandalous and perhaps blasphemous rites he may have to perform to bring +about the supposed result. What do you think of it, and what do you +advise?" + +His friend walked up and down the room for a few minutes, turning the +matter over carefully in his mind, and then, coming up to where the Abbe +lay lazily stretched upon a lounge, he said earnestly, + +"_Mon cher_ Henri, I am very glad you have asked me about this. It +appears to me that your duty is quite clear. You perhaps have it in your +power, as you yourself have seen, to save, not only, as you say, a +_mind_, but what I wish I could feel you prized more highly--a soul. You +must accept the invitation." + +The Abbe rose in delight at having found another man who, taking the +responsibility off his shoulders, commanded him as a duty to indulge his +ardent curiosity. + +"But," continued the other in a solemn voice, "before accepting, you +must do one thing." + +The Abbe threw himself back on the lounge in disgust. + +"Oh, pray, of course," he exclaimed petulantly. "I am quite aware of +that." + +"Not only pray, but _fast_, and that for seven days at least, my dear +brother." + +This was a very disagreeable view of the matter, but the Abbe was equal +to the occasion. After a pause, during which he appeared absorbed in +religious reflection, he rose, and taking his friend by the hand-- + +"You are right," said he, "as you always are. Although of course I know +the evil spirit cannot harm an officer of God's Holy Catholic church, +even supposing, for the sake of argument, my poor friend can invoke +Satan, yet if I am to do any good, if I am to save my friend from +destruction, I must be armed with extraordinary grace, and this, as you +truly divine, can only come by fasting." + +The other wrung his hand warmly. "I knew you would see it in its proper +light, my dear Henri," he said, "and now I will leave you to recover +your peace of mind by religious meditation." + +The Abbe smiled gravely, and let his friend depart. The following letter +was the result of this edifying interview between the two divines: + + "MON CHER PRINCE: No doubt you will feel very triumphant when + you learn that my object in writing this letter is to accept + your offer of presentation to _Sa Majeste_; but I do not care + whether you choose to consider this yielding to what is only in + part whimsical curiosity a triumph or no. I will not write to + you any cut-and-dried platitudes about good and evil, but I + frankly assure you that one of the strongest reasons which + induces me to go with you on this fool's errand is a belief + that I can discover the absurdity and imposture, and cure you + of a hallucination which is unworthy of you. + + "_Tout a vous_, + + "HENRI GERARD." + +For two days he received no reply to this letter, nor did he happen, in +the interval, to meet the Prince in society, although he heard of him +from De Frontignan and others; but on the third day the following note +was brought to him: + + "MON CHER AMI: There is no question of triumph, any more than + there is of deception. I will call for you this evening at + half-past nine. You must remember your promise to trust + yourself entirely to me. + + "_Cordialement a vous_, + + "POMERANTSEFF." + +So the matter was now arranged, and he, the Abbe Gerard, the renowned +preacher of the celebrated ---- church, was to meet that very night, by +special appointment, at half-past nine, the Prince of Darkness; and this +in January, in Paris--at the height of the season in the capital of +civilization. As may be well imagined, during the remainder of that +eventful day, until the hour of the Prince's arrival, the Abbe did not +enjoy his customary placidity. A secretary of the Turkish embassy who +called at four found him engaged in a violent discussion with one of the +Rothschilds about the early Christians' belief in demons, as shown by +Tertullian and others, while Lord Middlesex, who called at half-past +five, found he had captured Faure, installed him at the piano, and was +inducing him to hum snatches from "Don Juan." When his dinner hour +arrived, having given orders to his valet to admit no one lest he should +be discovered _not_ fasting, he hastily swallowed a few mouthfuls, +fortified himself with a couple of glasses of Chartreuse verte, and +lighting an enormous "imperial," awaited the coming of the messenger of +Satan. At half-past nine o'clock precisely the Prince arrived. He was in +full evening dress (but contrary to his usual custom, wearing no +decoration or ribbon in his buttonhole), and his face was of a deadly +pallor. + +"_Mon Dieu!_" exclaimed the Abbe, "What is the matter with you, _mon +cher_? You are looking very ill. We had better postpone our visit." + +"No; it is nothing," replied the Prince gravely. "Let us be off without +delay. In matters of this sort waiting is unbearable." + +The Abbe rose, and rang the bell for his hat and cloak. The appearance +of the Prince, his evident agitation, and his unfeigned impatience, +which seemed to betoken terror, were far from reassuring, but the Abbe +promptly quelled any misgivings he might have felt. Suddenly a thought +struck him; a thought which certainly his brain would never have +engendered had it been in its normal condition. + +"Perhaps I had better change my dress, and go _en pekin_?" he inquired +anxiously. + +The ghost of a sarcastic smile flitted across the Prince's face, as he +replied, + +"No, certainly not. Your _soutane_ will be in every way acceptable. +Come, let us be off." + +The Abbe made a grimace, put on his hat, flung his cloak around his +shoulders, and followed the Prince down stairs. He remarked with some +surprise that the carriage awaiting them was not the Prince's. + +"I have hired a carriage for the occasion," remarked Pomerantseff +quietly, noticing Gerard's glance of surprise. "I am unwilling that my +servants should suspect anything of this." + +They entered the carriage, and the coachman, evidently instructed +beforehand where to go, drove off without delay. The Prince immediately +pulled down the blinds, and taking a silk pocket handkerchief from his +pocket, began quietly to fold it lengthwise. + +"I must blindfold you, _mon cher_," he remarked simply, as if announcing +the most ordinary fact. + +"_Diable!_" cried the Abbe, now becoming a little nervous. "This is very +unpleasant! I believe you are the devil yourself." + +"Remember your promise," said Pomerantseff, as he carefully covered his +friend's eyes with the pocket handkerchief, and effectually precluded +the possibility of his seeing anything until he should remove the +bandage. After this nothing was said. The Abbe heard the Prince pull up +the blind, open the window, and tell the coachman to drive faster. He +endeavored to discover when they turned to the right, and when to the +left, but in a few minutes got bewildered and gave it up in despair. At +one time he felt certain they were crossing the river. + +"I wish I had not come," he murmured to himself. "Of course the whole +thing is folly, but it is a great trial to the nerves, and I shall +probably be upset for many days." + +On they drove; the time seemed interminable to the Abbe. + +"Are we near our destination yet?" he inquired at last. + +"Not very far off," replied the other, in what seemed to Gerard a most +sepulchral tone of voice. At length, after a drive of perhaps half an +hour, but which seemed to the Abbe double that time, Pomerantseff +murmured in a low tone, and with a profound sigh which sounded almost +like a sob, "Here we are," and at that moment the Abbe felt the carriage +was turning, and heard the horses' hoofs clatter on what he imagined to +be the stones of a courtyard. The carriage stopped. Pomerantseff opened +the door himself, and assisted the blindfolded priest to alight. + +"There are five steps," he said as he held the Abbe by the arm. "Take +care." + +The Abbe stumbled up the five steps. They had now entered a house, and +Gerard imagined to himself it was probably some old hotel, like the +Hotel Pimodan, where Gautier, Beaudelaire, and others at one time were +wont to assemble to disperse the cares of life in the fumes of opium. +When they had proceeded a few yards, Pomerantseff warned him that they +were about to ascend a staircase, and up many shallow steps they went, +the Abbe regretting every instant more and more that he had allowed his +vulgar curiosity to lead him into an adventure which could be productive +of nothing but ridicule and shattered nerves. When at length they had +reached the top of the stairs, the Prince guided him by the arm through +what the Abbe imagined to be a hall, opened a door, closed and locked it +after them, walked on again, opened another door, which he closed and +locked likewise, and over which the Abbe heard him pull a heavy curtain. +The Prince then took him again by the arm, advanced him a few steps, and +said in a low whisper, "Remain quietly standing where you are, and do +not attempt to remove the pocket handkerchief until you hear voices." + +The Abbe folded his arms and stood motionless while he heard the Prince +walk away a few yards. It was evident to the unfortunate priest that the +room in which he stood was not dark, for although he could see nothing, +owing to the pocket handkerchief, which had been bound most skilfully +over his eyes, there was a sensation of being in strong light, and his +cheeks and hands felt, as it were, illuminated. Suddenly a horrible +sound sent a chill of terror through him--a gentle noise as of naked +flesh touching the waxed floor--and before he could recover from the +shock occasioned by the sound, the voices of many men, voices of men +groaning or wailing in some hideous ecstasy, broke the stillness, +crying--"Father of all sin and crime, Prince of all despair and anguish, +come to us, we implore thee!" + +The Abbe, wild with terror, tore off the pocket handkerchief. He found +himself in a large, old-fashioned room, panelled up to the lofty ceiling +with oak, and filled with great light, shed from innumerable tapers +fitted into sconces on the wall--light which, though naturally _soft_, +was almost fierce by reason of its greatness, for it proceeded from at +least two hundred tapers. He had then been after all right in his +conjectures: he was evidently in a chamber of some one of the many +old-fashioned hotels which are to be seen in the Ile St. Louis, and +indeed in all the antiquated quarters of Paris. It was reassuring, at +all events, to know one was not in Hades, and to feel tolerably certain +that a sergeant de ville could not be many yards distant. All this +passed into his comprehension like a flash of lightning, for hardly had +the bandage left his eyes ere his whole attention was riveted upon a +group before him. + +Twelve men--Pomerantseff among the number--of all ages, from twenty-five +to fifty-five, all dressed in evening dress, and all, so far as one +could judge at such a moment, men of culture and refinement, knelt or +rather lay nearly prone upon the floor, with hands linked. They were +bowing forward and kissing the floor--which might account for the +strange sound heard by Gerard--and their faces were illuminated with a +light of hellish ecstasy--half distorted as if in pain, half smiling as +if in triumph. The Abbe's eyes instinctively sought out the Prince. He +was the last on the left hand side, and while his left hand grasped that +of his neighbor, his right was sweeping nervously over the floor as if +seeking to animate the boards. His face was more calm than those of the +others, but of a deadly pallor, and the violet tints about the mouth and +temples showed he was suffering from intense emotion. They were all, +each one after his own fashion, praying aloud, or rather moaning, as +they writhed in ecstatic adoration. + +"Oh, Father of Evil, come to us!" + +"Oh, Prince of Endless Desolation, who sitteth by the bed of suicides, +we adore thee!" + +"Oh, creator of eternal anguish! oh, king of cruel pleasures and +famishing desires, we worship thee!" + +"Come to us, with thy foot upon the hearts of widows, thy hair lucid +with the slaughter of innocence, and thy brow wreathed with the chaplet +of despair!" + +The heart of the Abbe turned cold and sick as these beings, hardly human +by reason of their great mental exaltation, swayed before him. + +Suddenly--or rather the full conception of the fact was sudden, for the +influence had been gradually stealing over him--he felt a terrible +coldness, a coldness more piercing than any he had before experienced +even in Russia; and with the coldness there came to him the certain +knowledge of the presence of some new being in the room. Withdrawing his +eyes from the semi-circle of men, who did not seem to be aware of his, +the Abbe's, presence, and who ceased not in their blasphemies, he +turned them slowly around, and as he did so they fell upon a newcomer, a +thirteenth, who seemed to spring into existence from the air before his +very eyes. + +He was a young man of apparently twenty, very tall, with bright golden +hair falling from his forehead like a girl's. He was dressed in evening +dress, and his cheeks were flushed as if with wine or pleasure, but from +his eyes there gleamed a look of inexpressible sadness, of intense +despair. The group of men had evidently become aware of his presence at +the same moment, for they all fell prone upon the floor adoring, and +their words were now no longer words of invocation, but words of praise +and worship. The Abbe was frozen with horror; there was no room in his +breast for the lesser emotion of fear; indeed, the horror was so great +and all-absorbing as to charm and hold him spellbound. He could not +remove his eyes from the thirteenth, who stood before him calmly, with a +faint smile playing over his intellectual and aristocratic face--a smile +which only added to the intensity of the despair gleaming in his clear +blue eyes. Gerard was struck first with the sadness, then with the +beauty, and then with the intellectual vigor of that marvellous +countenance. The expression was not unkind: haughtiness and pride could +be read only in the high-bred features, short upper lip, and nobly +moulded limbs; for the face betokened, save for the flush upon the +cheeks, only great sadness. The eyes were fixed upon those of Gerard, +and he felt their soft, subtle, intense light penetrate into every nook +and cranny of his soul and being. This being simply stood and gazed upon +the priest as the worshippers grew more wild, more blasphemous, more +cruel. The Abbe could think of nothing but the face before him, and the +great desolation that lay folded over it as a veil. He could think of no +prayer, although he could remember there were prayers. Was this +despair--the despair of a man drowning in sight of land--being shed +into him from the sad blue eyes? Was it despair, or was it death? Ah, +no; not death. Death was peaceful, and this was violent and lively. Was +there no refuge, no mercy, no salvation anywhere? Perhaps, but he could +not remember while those sad blue eyes still gazed upon him. He could +not remember, and still he could not entirely forget. He felt that help +would come to him if he sought it, and yet he could hardly tell how to +seek it. Moreover, by degrees the blue eyes--it seemed as if their +color, their great blueness, had some fearful power--began pouring into +him a more hideous pleasure. It was the ecstasy of great pain, becoming +a delight, the ecstasy of being beyond all hope and of being thus +enabled to look with scorn upon the author of hope. The blue eyes still +gazed sadly with a soft smile of despair upon him. Gerard knew that in +another moment he would not sink, faint, or fall, but that he would--oh, +much worse!--he would smile. At this very instant a name--a familiar +name, and one which the infernal worshippers had made frequent use of, +but which he had never remarked before--struck his ear; the name of +Christ. Where had he heard it? He could not tell. It was the name of a +young man; he could remember that, and nothing more. Again the name +sounded--"Christ." There was another word like Christ which seemed at +some time to have brought an idea first of great suffering and then of +great peace. Aye, peace, but no pleasure. No delight like this shed from +these marvellous blue eyes. Again the name sounded--"Christ." + +Ah! the other word was cross (_croix_). He remembered now; along thing +with a short thing across it. + +Was it that as he thought of these things the charm of the blue eyes and +their great sadness lessened in intensity? We dare not say, but as some +faint conception of what a cross was flitted through the Abbe's brain, +although he could think of no prayer, of no distinct use of this cross, +he drew his right hand slowly up, and feebly made the sign across his +breast. + +The vision vanished. + +The men adoring ceased their clamor, and lay crouched up against each +other as if some strong electric power had been taken from them, and +great weakness had succeeded. But for a moment; and then they rose +trembling and with loosened hands, and stood for an instant feebly +gazing at the Abbe, who felt faint and exhausted, and heeded them not. +With extraordinary presence of mind, the Prince walked quickly up to +him, pushed him out of the door by which they had entered, followed him, +and locked the door behind them, thus precluding the possibility of +being immediately pursued by the others. Once in the next room, the Abbe +and Pomerantseff paused for an instant to recover breath, for the +swiftness of their flight had exhausted them, worn out as they both were +mentally and physically; but during this brief interval the Prince, who +appeared to be retaining his presence of mind by a merely mechanical +effort, carefully replaced over his friend's eyes the bandage which the +Abbe held tightly grasped in his hand. Then he led him on, and it was +not until the cold air struck them that they noticed they had left their +hats behind. + +"_N'importe!_" muttered Pomerantseff. "It would be dangerous to return"; +and hurrying the Abbe into the carriage which awaited them, he bade the +coachman speed them away "_au grand galop_!" + +Not a word was spoken; the Abbe lay back as one in a swoon, and heeded +nothing until he felt the carriage stop, and the Prince uncovered his +eyes and told him he had reached home. He alighted in silence, and +passed into his house without a word. How he reached his apartment he +never knew, but the following morning found him raging with fever and +delirious. When he had sufficiently recovered, after the lapse of a few +days, to admit of his reading the numerous letters awaiting his +attention, one was put into his hand which had been brought on the +second night after the one of the memorable _seance_. It ran as follows: + + "JOCKEY CLUB, January 26, 186-. + + "MON CHER ABBE: I am afraid our little adventure was too much + for you; in fact, I myself was very unwell all yesterday, and + nothing but a Russian bath has pulled me together. I can hardly + wonder at this, however, for I have never in my life been + present at so powerful a _seance_, and you may comfort yourself + with the reflection that _Son Altesse_ has never honored any + one with his presence for so long a space of time before. Never + fear about your illness; it is merely nervous exhaustion, and + you will be well soon; but such evenings must not often be + indulged in if you are not desirous of shortening your life. I + shall hope to meet you at Mme. de Metternich's on Monday. + + "_Tout a vous_, + + "POMERANTSEFF." + +Whether or no Gerard was sufficiently recovered to meet his friend at +the Austrian embassy on the evening named, we do not know, nor does it +concern us; but he is certainly enjoying excellent health now, and is no +less charming than before his extraordinary adventure. + +Such is the true story of a meeting with the devil in Paris not many +years ago; a story true in every particular, as can be easily proved by +a direct application to any of the persons concerned in it, for they are +all living still. The key to the enigma we cannot find, for we certainly +do not put faith in any of the theories of spiritualists; but that an +apparition such as we have described did appear in the way and under the +circumstances we have described, is a fact, and we must leave the +satisfactory solution of the difficulty to more profound psychologists +than ourselves. + + + + +ON READING SHAKESPEARE. + +CONCLUSION. + + +Probably no play of Shakespeare's, probably no other play or poem of a +high degree of merit, is so much neglected as "Troilus and Cressida" is. +I have met intelligent readers of Shakespeare, who thought themselves +unusually well acquainted with his writings, and who were so, who +understood him and delighted in him, but who yet had never read "Troilus +and Cressida." They had, in one way and another, got the notion that it +is a very inferior play, and not worth reading, or at least not to be +read until after they were tired of all the others--a time which had not +yet come. There seems to be a slur cast upon this play; the reason of +which is its very undramatic character, and the consequent +non-appearance of its name in theatrical records. No one has heard of +any actor's or actress's appearance, even in the last century, as one of +the personages in "Troilus and Cressida." Its name has not been upon the +playbills for generations, although even "Love's Labor's Lost" has once +in a while been performed. Hence it is almost unknown, except to the +thorough Shakespearian readers, who are very few; fewer now, in +proportion to the largely increased leisurely and instructed classes, +than they were two hundred years ago, much to the shame of our vaunted +popular education and diffusion of knowledge. And yet this neglected +drama is one of its author's great works; in one respect his greatest. +"Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play in the way of +worldly wisdom. It is filled choke-full of sententious, and in most +cases slightly satirical revelations of human nature, uttered with a +felicity of phrase and an impressiveness of metaphor that make each one +seem like a beam of light shot into the recesses of man's heart. Such +are these: + + In the reproof of chance + Lies the true proof of men. + + The wound of peace is surety; + Surety secure; but modest doubt is called + The beacon of the wise. + + What is aught, but as 'tis valued? + + 'Tis mad idolatry + To make the service greater than the god. + + A stirring dwarf we do allowance give + Before a sleeping giant. + + 'Tis certain greatness once fall'n out with fortune + Must fall out with men too; what the declin'd is + He shall as soon read in the eyes of others + As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, + Show not their mealy wings but to the summer; + And not a man, for being simply man, + Hath any honor. + +Besides passages like these, there are others of which the wisdom is +inextricably interwoven with the occasion. One would think that the +wealth of such a mine would be daily passing from mouth to mouth as the +current coin of speech; and yet of all Shakespeare's acknowledged plays, +there are only two, "The Comedy of Errors" and "The Winter's Tale," +which do not furnish more to our store of familiar quotations than this +play does, rich though it is with Shakespeare's ripest thought and most +splendid utterance. And yet by a strange compensating chance, it +furnishes the most often quoted line; a line which not one in a million +of those that use it ever saw where Shakespeare wrote it, or if they had +any brains behind their eyes, they would not use it as they do. For by +another strange chance it happens that this line is entirely perverted +from the meaning which Shakespeare gave it. As it is constantly quoted, +it is not Shakespeare's. The line is: + + One touch of nature makes the whole world kin. + +This has come to be always quoted with the meaning implied in the +following indication of emphasis: "One touch of _nature_ makes the +_whole world_ kin." Shakespeare wrote no such sentimental twaddle. Least +of all did he write it in this play, in which his pen "pierces to the +dividing asunder of soul and spirit and of the joints and marrow, and is +a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." The line which +has been thus perverted into an exposition of sentimental brotherhood +among all mankind, is on the contrary one of the most cynical utterances +of an undisputable moral truth, disparaging to the nature of all +mankind, that ever came from Shakespeare's pen. Achilles keeps himself +aloof from his fellow Greeks, and takes no part in the war, sure that +his fame for valor will be untarnished. Ulysses contrives to provoke him +into a discussion, and tells him that his great deeds will be forgotten +and his fame fade into mere shadow, and that some new man will take his +place, unless he does something from time to time to keep his glory +bright. For men forget the great thing that was done, in favor of the +less that is done now. + + For time is like a fashionable host + That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand, + And with his arms outstretched as he would fly, + Grasps in the comer. Welcome ever smiles, + And farewell goes out sighing. O let not virtue seek + Remuneration for the thing it was; + For beauty, wit, + High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service, + Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all + To envious and calumniating time. + +And then he immediately adds that there is one point on which all men +are alike, one touch of human nature which shows the kindred of all +mankind--that they slight familiar merit and prefer trivial novelty. The +next lines to those quoted above are: + + One touch of nature makes the whole world kin, + That all with one consent praise new-born gauds. + Though they are made and moulded of things past; + And give to dust that is a little gilt + More sand than gilt oe'rdusted. + +The meaning is too manifest to need or indeed to admit a word of +comment, and it is brought out by this emphasis: "_One_ touch of nature +makes the _whole world kin_"--that one touch of their common failing +being an uneasy love of novelty. Was ever poet's or sage's meaning so +perverted, so reversed! And yet it is hopeless to think of bringing +about a change in the general use of this line and a cessation of its +perversion to sentimental purposes, not to say an application of it as +the scourge for which it was wrought; just as it is hopeless to think of +changing by any demonstration of unfitness and unmeaningness a phrase in +general use--the reason being that the mass of the users are utterly +thoughtless and careless of the right or the wrong, the fitness or the +unfitness, of the words that come from their mouths, except that they +serve their purpose for the moment. That done, what care they? And what +can we expect, when even the "Globe" edition of Shakespeare's works has +upon its very title-page and its cover a globe with a band around it, on +which is written this line in its perverted sense, that sense being +illustrated, enforced, and deepened into the general mind by the union +of the band-ends by clasped hands. I absolve, of course, the Cambridge +editors of the guilt of this twaddling misuse of Shakespeare's line; it +was a mere publisher's contrivance; but I am somewhat surprised that +they should have even allowed it such sanction as it has from its +appearance on the same title-page with their names. + +The undramatic character of "Troilus and Cressida," which has been +already mentioned, appears in its structure, its personages, and its +purpose. We are little interested in the fate of its personages, not +merely because we know what is to become of them, for that we know in +almost any play which has an historical subject; but the play is +constructed upon such a slight plot that it really has neither dramatic +motive nor dramatic movement. The loves of "Troilus and Cressida" are of +a kind which are interesting only to the persons directly involved in +them; Achilles's sulking is of even less interest; and the death of +Hector affects us only like a newspaper announcement of the death of +some distinguished person, so little is he really involved in the action +of the drama. There is also a singular lack of that peculiar +characteristic of Shakespeare's dramatic style, the marked distinction +and nice discrimination of the individual traits, mental and moral, of +the various personages. Ulysses is the real hero of the play; the chief, +or at least the great purpose of which is the utterance of the Ulyssean +view of life; and in this play Shakespeare is Ulysses, or Ulysses +Shakespeare. In all his other plays Shakespeare so lost his personal +consciousness in the individuality of his own creations that they think +and feel as well as act like real men and women other than their +creator, so that we cannot truly say of the thoughts and feelings which +they express, that Shakespeare says thus or so; for it is not +Shakespeare who speaks, but they with his lips. But in Ulysses, +Shakespeare, acting upon a mere hint, filling up a mere traditionary +outline, drew a man of mature years, of wide observation, of profoundest +cogitative power, one who knew all the weakness and all the wiles of +human nature, and who yet remained with blood unbittered and soul +unsoured--a man who saw through all shams and fathomed all motives, and +who yet was not scornful of his kind, not misanthropic, hardly cynical +except in passing moods; and what other man was this than Shakespeare +himself? What had he to do when he had passed forty years but to utter +his own thoughts when he would find words for the lips of Ulysses? And +thus it is that "Troilus and Cressida" is Shakespeare's wisest play. If +we would know what Shakespeare thought of men and their motives after he +reached maturity, we have but to read this drama; drama it is, but with +what other character who shall say? For, like the world's pageant, it +is neither tragedy nor comedy, but a tragi-comic history, in which the +intrigues of amorous men and light-o'-loves and the brokerage of panders +are mingled with the deliberations of sages and the strife and the death +of heroes. + +The thoughtful reader will observe that Ulysses pervades the serious +parts of the play, which is all Ulyssean in its thought and language. +And this is the reason or rather the fact of the play's lack of +distinctive characterization. For Ulysses cannot speak all the time that +he is on the stage; and therefore the other personages, such as may, +speak Ulyssean, with, of course, such personal allusion and peculiar +trick as a dramatist of Shakespeare's skill could not leave them without +for difference. For example, no two men could be more unlike in +character than Achilles and Ulysses, and yet the former, having asked +the latter what he is reading, he, uttering his own thought, says as +follows with the subsequent reply: + + _Ulyss._--A strange fellow here + Writes me: That man, how dearly ever parted,[9] + How much in having, or without or in, + Cannot make boast to have that which he hath + Nor feels not what he owes but by reflection, + As when his virtues shining upon others + Heat them, and they retort that heat again + To the first giver. + + _Achil._--This is not strange, Ulysses. + The beauty that is borne here in the face + The bearer knows not, but commends itself + To others' eyes; nor doth the eye itself, + That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, + Not going from itself; but eye to eye opposed, + Salutes each other with each other's form, + For speculation turns not to itself + Till it hath travelled and is mirror'd there + Where it may see itself. This is not strange at all. + +Now these speeches are made of the same metal and coined in the same +mint; and they both of them have the image and superscription of William +Shakespeare. No words or thoughts could be more unsuited to that bold, +bloody egoist, "the broad Achilles," than the reply he makes to Ulysses; +but here Shakespeare was merely using the Greek champion as a lay figure +to utter his own thoughts, which are perfectly in character with the +son of Autolycus. Ulysses thus flows over upon the whole serious part of +the play. Agamemnon, Nestor, AEneus, and the rest all talk alike, and all +like Ulysses. That Ulysses speaks for Shakespeare will, I think, be +doubted by no reader who has reached the second reading of this play by +the way which I have pointed out to him. And why, indeed, should Ulysses +not speak for Shakespeare, or how could it be other than that he should? +The man who had written "Hamlet," "King Lear," "Othello," and "Macbeth," +if he wished to find Ulysses, had only to turn his mind's eye inward; +and thus we have in this drama Shakespeare's only piece of introspective +work. + +But there is another personage who gives character to this drama, and +who is of a very different sort. Thersites sits with Caliban high among +Shakespeare's minor triumphs. He was brought in to please the mob. He is +the Fool of the piece, fulfilling the functions of Touchstone, and +Launce, and Launcelot, and Costard. As the gravediggers were brought +into "Hamlet" for the sake of the groundlings, so Thersites came into +"Troilus and Cressida." As if that he might leave no form of human +utterance ungilded by his genius, Shakespeare in Thersites has given us +the apotheosis of blackguardism and billingsgate. Thersites is only a +railing rascal. Some low creatures are mere bellies with no brain. +Thersites is merely mouth, but this mouth has just enough coarse brain +above it to know a wise man and a fool when he sees them. But the +railings of this deformed slave are splendid. Thersites is almost as +good as Falstaff. He is of course a far lower organization +intellectually, and somewhat lower, perhaps, morally. He is coarser in +every way; his humor, such as he has, is of the grossest kind; but still +his blackguardism is the ideal of vituperation. He is far better than +Apemantus in "Timon of Athens," for there is no hypocrisy in him, no +egoism, and, comfortable trait in such a personage, no pretence of +gentility. For good downright "sass" in its most splendid and aggressive +form, there is in literature nothing equal to the speeches of Thersites. + +"Troilus and Cressida" is also remarkable for its wide range of style, +because of which it is a play of great interest to the student of +Shakespeare, who here adapted his style to the character of the matter +in hand. The lighter parts remind us of his earlier manner; the graver +are altogether in his later. He did this unconsciously, or almost +unconsciously, we may be sure. None the less, however, is the play +therefore valuable in a critical point of view, but rather the more so. +It is a standing and an undeniable warning to us not to lean too much +upon any one special trait of style in estimating the time in +Shakespeare's life at which a play was produced. Moreover it illustrates +the natural course of style development, showing that it is not only +gradual, but not by regular degrees; that is, that a writer does not +pass at one period absolutely from one style to another, dropping his +previous manner and taking on another, but that he will at one time +unconsciously recur to his former manner or manners, and at a late +period show traces of his early manner. Strata of his old fashion thrust +themselves up through the newer formation. "Troilus and Cressida" is so +remarkable in this respect that the chief of the absolute-period +critics, the Rev. Mr. Fleay, has been obliged to invent a most +extraordinary theory to account for it. His view is that there are three +plots interwoven, each of which is distinct in manner of treatment, and, +moreover, that each of these was composed at a different time from the +other two. He would have us believe that the parts embodying the Troilus +and Cressida story were written in Shakespeare's earliest period, those +concerning Hector in his middle period, and the Ajax parts in the last. +That these three stories were interwoven is manifest; but they came +naturally together in this Greek historical play--for it is that--and +their interweaving was hardly to have been avoided; the manner of each +is not distinct from that of the other, although there is, with +likeness, a noticeable unlikeness; but the notion that therefore +Shakespeare first wrote the Troilus and Cressida part as a play, and +then years afterward added the Hector part, and again years afterward +the Ajax and Ulysses part, seems to me only a monstrous contrivance of +an honest and an able man in desperate straits to make his theory square +with fact. As to detail upon this subject, I shall only notice one +point. Tag-rhymes, or rhymed couplets ending a scene or a speech in +blank verse or in prose, are regarded by the metre-critics (and justly +within reason) as marks of an early date of composition. Now in "Troilus +and Cressida" these abound. It contains more of them than any other +play, except one or two of the very earliest. The important point, +however, is that these rhymes appear no less in the Ulysses and Ajax +scenes of the play than in the others--a sufficient warning against +putting absolute trust in such evidence. + +Among those few of Shakespeare's plays which are least often read is +"All's Well that Ends Well." This one, however, is to the earnest +student one of the most interesting of the thirty-seven which bear his +name; not only because it contains some of his best and most thoughtful +work, but because, being Shakespeare's all through, it is written in two +distinct styles--styles so distinct that there can be no doubt that as +it has come down to us it is the product of two distinct periods of his +dramatic life, and those the most distant, the first and the last. Its +singularity in this respect gives it a peculiar value to the student of +Shakespeare's style and of his mental development. There is not an +interweaving of styles as in "Troilus and Cressida"; the two are +distinctly separable; and there is external historical evidence which +supports the internal. + +We have a record in Francis Meres's "Palladis Tamia" of a play by +Shakespeare called "Love's Labor's Won"; and there is no reasonable +doubt that that was the first name of "All's Well that Ends Well." As +the "Palladis Tamia" was published in 1598, this play was produced +before that year, and all the evidence, internal and external, goes to +show that Shakespeare wrote it soon after "Love's Labor's Lost," and as +a counterpart to that comedy. The difference of its style in various +parts had been remarked upon in general terms; but I believe that this +difference was first specially indicated in the following passage, which +I cannot do better here than to quote from the introduction to my +edition of the play published in 1857; and I do so with the greater +freedom because the particular traits which it discriminated have been +lately, in the present year, insisted upon by the Rev. Mr. Fleay, in his +very useful and suggestive, but not altogether to be trusted +"Shakespeare Manual," to which I have before referred. + +"It is to be observed that passages of rhymed couplets, in which the +thought is somewhat constrained and its expression limited by the form +of the verse, are scattered freely through the play, and that these are +found side by side with passages of blank verse in which the thought, on +the contrary, so entirely dominates the form, and overloads and weighs +it down, as to produce the impression that the poet, in writing them, +was almost regardless of the graces of his art, and merely sought an +expression of his ideas in the most compressed and elliptical form. The +former trait is characteristic of his youthful style; the latter marks a +certain period of his maturer years. Contracted words, which Shakespeare +used more freely in his later than in his earlier works, abound; and in +some passages words are used in an esoteric sense, which is distinctive +of the poet's style about the time when 'Measure for Measure' was +produced. Note, for instance, the use of 'succeed' in 'owe and succeed +thy weakness,' in Act II., Sc. 4 of that play, and in 'succeed thy +father in manners,' Act I., Sc. 1 of this. It is to be observed also +that the advice given by the Countess to Bertram when he leaves +Rousillon is so like that of Polonius to Laertes in a similar situation, +that either the latter is an expansion of the former, or the former a +reminiscence of the latter; and as the passage is written in the later +style, the second supposition appears the more probable. Finally, it is +worthy of remark that both the French officers who figure in this play +as First Lord and Second Lord are somewhat strangely named _Dumain_, and +that in 'Love's Labor's Lost' Dumain is also the name of that one of the +three attendants and brothers in love of the King who has a post in the +army; which, when taken in connection with other circumstances, is at +least a hint of some relation between the two plays." + +If the reader who has gone thoughtfully through the plays in the course +which I have indicated will take up this one, he will find in the very +first scene evidence and illustration of these views. It is almost +entirely in prose, which itself shows the weight of Shakespeare's mature +hand. The first blank verse is the speech of the Countess, in which she +gives a mother's counsel to Bertram as he is setting out for the wars, +as is pointed out above, and which is unmistakably of the "Hamlet" +period. Then comes a speech by Helen beginning, + + O were that all! I think not on my father: + And these great tears grace his remembrance more + Than those I shed for him-- + +and ending with this charming passage, referring to the growth of her +love for Bertram: + + 'Twas pretty, though a plague, + To see him every hour; to sit and draw + His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls + In our heart's table; heart too capable + Of every line and trick of his sweet favor: + But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy + Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +It is needless to say to the advanced student of Shakespeare's style +that this is in his later manner. A little further on is Helen's speech +to the detestable Parolles, beginning with the mutilated line, "Not my +virginity yet," which is followed by some ten, in which she pours out in +Euphuistic phrase her love for Bertram, saying that he has in her "a +mother, and a mistress, and a friend, a counsellor, a traitress, and a +dear"; and yet further, + + His humble ambition, proud humility, + His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, + His faith, his sweet disaster, with a world + Of pretty, fond, adoptious Christendoms + That blinking Cupid gossips. + +This will remind the reader of Scott's Euphuist, Sir Piercie Shafton, +who, if I remember aright, uses some of these very phrases, in which +Shakespeare has beaten Lilly at his own weapons, and made his affected +phraseology the vehicle of the touching utterance of real feeling. +"Euphues" was published in 1580, when Shakespeare was only sixteen years +old; and this passage, although it may have been written or perhaps +altered later, was probably a part of the play as it was first produced. +The scene ends with the following speech by Helen, which, for its +peculiar characteristics, is worth quoting entire. The reader who will +compare it with "Love's Labor's Lost" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream" +will have not a moment's doubt as to the time when it was written: + + Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie + Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky + Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull + Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. + What power is it which mounts my love so high + That makes me see and cannot feed mine eye? + The mightiest space in fortune nature brings + To join like likes and kiss like native things. + Impossible be strange attempts to those + That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose + What hath been cannot be: whoever strove + To show her merit that did miss her love? + The king's disease--my project may deceive me, + But my intents are fixed and will not leave me. + +Besides its formal construction and its rhyme, this passage is overmuch +afflicted with youngness to be accepted as the product of any other +than Shakespeare's very earliest period. Of like quality to this are +other passages scattered through the play. For example, the Countess's +speech, Act I., Sc. 3, beginning, "Even so it was with me"; all the +latter part of Act II., Sc. 1, from Helen's speech, "What I can do," +etc., to the end, seventy lines; passages in the third scene of this +act, which the reader cannot now fail at once to detect for himself; +Helen's letter, Act III., Sc. 4, and Parolles's, Act IV., Sc. 3; and +various passages in the last act. Shakespeare, I have no doubt, wrote +this play at first nearly all in rhyme in the earliest years of his +dramatic life, and afterward, late in his career, possibly on two +occasions, rewrote it and gave it a new name; using prose, to save time +and labor, in those passages the elevation of which did not require +poetical treatment, and in those which were suited to such treatment +giving us true, although not highly finished specimens of his grand +style. + +A few of the plays now remain unnoticed; but our purpose is accomplished +without further particular remark. The reader who has gone thus far with +me needs me no longer as a guide. The Roman plays, "Coriolanus," "Julius +Caesar," and "Antony and Cleopatra," particularly the last, should now +receive his careful attention. In "The Winter's Tale," "The Tempest," +and "Henry VIII." he will find the very last productions of +Shakespeare's pen, and in the first and the third of these he will find +marks of hasty work both in the versification and in the construction; +but the touch of the master is unmistakable quite through them all, and +"The Tempest" is one of the most perfect of his works in all respects. +No true lover of Shakespeare should neglect the Sonnets, although many +do neglect them. They are inferior to the plays; but only to them. + +As to helps to the understanding of Shakespeare, those who can +understand him at all need none except a good critical edition. And by a +good critical edition I mean only one which gives a good text, with +notes where they are needed upon obscure constructions, obsolete words +or phrases, manners and customs, and the like. Of the plays in the +Clarendon Press series, "The Merchant of Venice," "Richard II.," +"Macbeth," "Hamlet," and "King Lear," better editions cannot be had, +particularly for readers inexperienced in verbal criticism. Those who +find any difficulty which the notes to those editions do not explain may +be pretty sure that, with the exception of a very few passages the +corruption of which is admitted on all hands, the trouble is not with +Shakespeare or the editor. Shakespeare read in the way which I have +indicated, and with the help of such an edition, has a high educating +value, and in particular will give the reader an insight into the +English language, if not a mastery of it, that is worth a course of all +the text-books of grammar and rhetoric that have been written ten times +over. As to editions, I shall give only one caution. Do not get Dyce's. +Mr. Dyce was a scholar, a man of fine taste, most thoroughly read in +English literature, particularly in that of the Elizabethan period. He +was a man for whom I had a very high respect, and whom I had reason to +regard with a somewhat warmer feeling than that of a mere literary +acquaintance. This and my deference to his age and his position +prevented me from saying during his life what there is no reason that I +should not say now--that in my opinion he was one of the most +unsuccessful of Shakespeare's editors. His edition is one of the worst +that has been published in the last century, both for its text and, +except as to their learning, for its notes. With all my deferential +respect for him,[10] I was prepared for this result before the +appearance of the first of his three editions. Being in correspondence +with him, and on such terms that I could make such a request, I asked +him to send me some sheets of his edition while it was passing through +the press. He replied that he could not do this; but the reason that he +gave was, not any unwillingness to confide them to me, but that it was +then impossible, because after his edition was half struck off he had +cancelled the greater part of it on account of changes in his opinions +as to the reading of so many passages! And this after he was well in +years; after having passed his life in the study of Elizabethan +literature; and after having edited Beaumont and Fletcher! I was never +more amazed. Such a man could have no principles of criticism. How could +he guide others who after such study was not sure of his own way? With +all his knowledge of the literature and the literary history of the +Elizabethan period, he seemed to lack the power of putting himself in +sympathy with Shakespeare as he wrote. Hence the crudity and incongruity +of his text, his vacillating opinions, and the weakness and poverty of +his annotation. + +Of criticism of what has been called the higher kind, I recommend the +reading of very little, or better, none at all. Read Shakespeare; seek +aid to understand his language, if that be in any way obscure to you; +but that once comprehended, apprehension of his purpose and meaning will +come untold to those who can attain it in any way. In my own edition I +avoided as much as possible the introduction of aesthetic criticism, not +because I felt incapable of writing it; for it is easy work; on the +contrary, I freely essayed it when it was necessary as an aid to the +settlement of the text, or of like questions; and by its use I think +that I succeeded in establishing some points of importance. But in my +judgment the duty of an editor is performed when he puts the reader, as +nearly as possible, in the same position, for the apprehension of his +author's meaning, that he would have occupied if he had been +contemporary with him and had received from him a correct copy of his +writings. More than this seems to me to verge upon impertinence. Upon +this point I find myself supported by William Aldis Wright,[11] who is +in my judgment the ablest of all the living editors of Shakespeare; who +brings to his task a union of scholarship, critical judgment, and common +sense, which is very rare in any department of literature, and +particularly in Shakespearian criticism, and whose labors in this +department of letters are small and light in comparison with the graver +studies in which he is constantly engaged. He, in the preface to his +lately published edition of "King Lear" in the Clarendon Press series, +says: "It has been objected to the editions of Shakespeare's plays in +the Clarendon Press series that the notes are too exclusively of a +verbal character, and that they do not deal with aesthetic, or as it is +called, the higher criticism. So far as I have had to do with them, I +frankly confess that aesthetic notes have been deliberately and +intentionally omitted, because one main object in these editions is to +induce those for whom they are especially designed to read and study +Shakespeare himself, and not to become familiar with opinions about him. +Perhaps, too, it is because I cannot help experiencing a certain feeling +of resentment when I read such notes, that I am unwilling to intrude +upon others what I should regard myself as impertinent. They are in +reality too personal and objective, and turn the commentator into a +showman. With such sign-post criticism I have no sympathy. Nor do I wish +to add to the awful amazement which must possess the soul of Shakespeare +when he knows of the manner in which his works have been tabulated, and +classified, and labelled with a purpose, after the most approved method, +like modern _tendenzschriften_. Such criticism applied to Shakespeare is +nothing less than gross anachronism." + +Not a little of the Shakespearian criticism of this kind that exists is +the mere result of an effort to say something fine about what needs no +such gilding, no such prism-play of light to enhance or to bring out its +beauties. I will not except from these remarks much of what Coleridge +himself has written about Shakespeare. But the German critics whom he +emulated are worse than he is. Avoid them. The German pretence that +Germans have taught us folk of English blood and speech to understand +Shakespeare is the most absurd and arrogant that could be set up. +Shakespeare owes them nothing; and we have received from them little +more than some maundering mystification and much ponderous platitude. +Like the western diver, they go down deeper and stay down longer than +other critics, but like him too they come up muddier. Above all of them, +avoid Ulrici and Gervinus. The first is a mad mystic, the second a very +literary Dogberry, endeavoring to comprehend all vagrom men, and +bestowing his tediousness upon the world with a generosity that +surpasses that of his prototype. Both of them thrust themselves and +their "fanned and winnowed opinions" upon him in such an obtrusive way +that if he could come upon the earth again and take his pen in his hand, +I would not willingly be in the shoes of either. He would hand them down +to posterity the laughing stock of men for ever. + +Not Shakespeare only has suffered from this sort of criticism. The great +musicians fare ill at their hands. One of them, Schlueter, writing of +Mozart, says of his E flat, G minor, C (Jupiter) symphonies: + + It is evident that these three magnificent works--produced + consecutively and at short intervals--are the embodiment of + _one_ train of thought pursued with increasing ardor; so that + taken as a whole they form a grand _trilogy_.... These three + grandest of Mozart's symphonies (the first lyrical, the second + tragic-pathetic, and the third of ethical import) correspond to + his three greatest operas, "Figaro," "Don Giovanni," and "Die + Zauberfloete." + +Now, I venture to say, that there is no such consecutive train of +thought, and no such correspondence. Ethical import in the Jupiter and +in the "Zauberfloete," and correspondence between them! Mozart did not +evolve musical elephants out of his moral consciousness. But a German +professor of _esthetik_ is not happy until he has discovered a trilogy +and an inner life. Those found, he goes off with ponderous serenity into +the _ewigkeit_. + +I have been asked, apropos of these articles, to give some advice as to +the formation of Shakespeare clubs. The best thing that can be done +about that matter is to let it alone entirely. According to my +observation, Shakespeare clubs do not afford their members any +opportunities of study or even of enjoyment of his works which are not +attainable otherwise. And how should they do so except by the formation +of libraries for the use of their members? In this respect they may be +of some use, but not of much. Few books, a very few, are necessary for +the intelligent and earnest student of Shakespeare, and those almost +every such student can obtain for himself. As I have said, a good +critical edition is all that is required; and whoever desires to wander +into the wilderness of Shakespearian commentary will find in the public +libraries ample opportunities of doing so. I have observed that those +who read Shakespeare most and understand him best do not use even +critical editions, except for occasional reference, but take the text by +itself, pure and simple. An edition with a good text, brief +introductions to each play, giving only ascertained facts, and a few +notes, glossological and historical, at the foot of the page, is still a +desideratum. Quiet reading with such an edition as this at hand will do +more good than all the Shakespeare clubs ever established have done. I +have seen something of such associations; and I have observed in them a +tendency on one hand to a feeble and fussy literary antiquarianism, and +on the other to conviviality; a thing not bad in itself, and indeed, +within bounds, much better than the other; but which has as little to +do as that has (and it could not have less) with an intelligent study of +Shakespeare. There is hardly anything less admirable to a reasonable +creature than the assemblage at stated times of a number of +semi-literary people to potter over Shakespeare and display before each +other their second-hand enthusiasm about "the bard of Avon," as they +generally delight to call him. Now, a true lover of Shakespeare never +calls him the bard of Avon, or a bard of anything; and he reads him o' +nights and ponders over him o' days while he is walking, or smoking, or +at night again while he is waking in his bed. If he is too poor to buy a +copy offhand, he saves up his pennies till he can get one, and he does +not trouble himself about the commentators or the mulberry tree. He +would not give two pence to sit in a chair made of it; for he knows that +he could not tell it from any other chair, and that it would not help +him to understand or to enjoy one line in "Hamlet," or "Lear," or +"Othello," or "As You Like It," or "The Tempest." These remarks have no +reference of course to such societies as the Shakespeare Societies of +London, past and present. They are associations of scholars for the +purpose of original investigations, and which they print for the use of +their subscribers, and for the republication of valuable and scarce +books and papers having a bearing upon Shakespeare and the literary +history of his time. We have no such material in this country. Whoever +wishes to go profoundly into the study of Shakespearian, or rather of +Elizabethan literature, would do well to obtain a set of the old +Shakespeare Society's publications, and to become a subscriber to the +other Shakespeare society, which is doing good thorough work. Clubs +might well be formed for the obtaining of these books and others, for +the use of their members who cannot afford or who do not care to buy +them for their own individual property; although a book really owned is, +I cannot say exactly why, worth more to a reader than one belonging to +some one else. But all other Shakespeare clubs are mere vanity. The true +Shakespeare lover is a club unto himself. + + RICHARD GRANT WHITE. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[9] _I. e._, gifted, endowed with parts. + +[10] See "Shakespeare's Scholar," _passim._ + +[11] Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, and one of the editors of the +Cambridge edition. + + + + +THE PHILTER. + +A LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR'S TIME. + + + Dying afar in Brittany, + The gallant Tristram lay; + His gentle bride's sweet ministry, + Her tender touch and way, + That erstwhile brought the rest he sought, + No more held soothing sway. + + The naming of her tuneful name, + Isoude--so sweet to hear + Because its music was the same + With one long holden dear-- + Now, like a bell discordant, fell, + And brought but mocking cheer. + + Her eyne so blue, with lids so white, + Her tresses from their snood, + That rippling ambered all the light + About her where she stood, + Served only now to cloud his brow + Who longed for lost Isoude-- + + Isoude, who charmed him once when storm + Had blown his ship ashore + On Ireland's coast; Isoude, whose form + Bewitched him more and more, + As mem'ry came, his love to flame, + When hope, alas! was o'er: + + Isoude, who sailed with him the sea + Across to Cornwall land, + To marry Mark, whose treachery + Did Tristram's faith command + To win her grace for kingly place, + And his own heart withstand. + + On sultry deck becalmed they pine; + Careless, their thirst to ease, + A philter--mixt for bridal wine-- + Her lip beguiles, and his: + O subtle draught unconscious quaffed! + They drained it to the lees-- + + Until in Tristram's knightly form + All joy for her seemed blent; + Until her cheek could only warm + Beneath his gaze intent; + Until her heart sought him apart, + Whoever came or went; + + Until the potion did beget + An all-enduring spell; + Albeit Cornwall's king now met + And liked her fairness well, + And claimed her hand, while through the land + Rang sound of marriage bell; + + Until, as fragrance from a flower, + True love outbrake control, + And dropped its sweetness as a shower + Of pearls, that threadless roll + To find their rest in some near nest; + Her home, Sir Tristram's soul! + + And he, though frequent jousts he won; + Though many a valiant deed + Of prowess made his fame outrun + The claim of knightly creed; + Though maidens oft their glances soft + Bestowed in tenderest meed; + + Though Brittany upon him prest + A bride, in gratitude + For service done; and though the quest + Of sacred grail subdued + His full heart-beat of smothered heat-- + He loved but _Queen_ Isoude! + + And now with holy vows all tossed + Of fever's frantic sway-- + As mariner whose bark is crossed + Upon a peaceful way + By winds that lure from purpose pure + And well-meant plans bewray-- + + He bade a trusty servitor + To Cornwall's queen forthwith. + "Take this," he said, "and show to her + How great my languor, sith + This signet's round will not be found + To bear one hurted lith. + + "Say that Sir Tristram prays her aid, + And so he prays not vain, + Let sails of silken white be made, + Whose gleam shall heal my pain, + As hither borne some favoring morn, + Love claims his own again! + + "But if she yield no heed to these + Fond cravings of love's breath, + Then bearing on the burdened breeze + Let sail that shadoweth, + Of darkest dark, beshroud the bark, + A presage of my death." + + So spake the Lord of Lyonesse, + And bode his joy or bale; + While jealous of her right to bless, + The wife Isoude, grown pale + As buds of light that shrink from night, + Made sad and lonely wail: + + "Alas! all one the loss to me, + My lord alive or dead, + If life of his by sorcery + Of this fair queen be fed." + Then adding, "Be her answer _nay_, + Hope yet to hope is wed." + + She scanned the sea. On waves of balm + A white sail of rare glow + Came rounding to the harbor's calm + With fullest promise--lo! + Bleak winds arise, as false she cries, + "_A black sail entereth_ slow." + + Too weak to battle with his grief, + Sir Tristram breathed a sigh-- + "Alack, that Isoude's sweet relief + Should fail me where I lie: + Sith not for me her face to see, + Is but to droop and die." + + Black sails are hoisted now in truth! + They wing two forms to rest: + For Cornwall's queen a-cold, in ruth, + Fell prone on Tristram's breast; + And Cornwall's knight for kinsman's right + Of shrine had made request. + + A letter lay upon the bier, + And this the word it bare: + "O love is sweet, O love is dear, + And followeth everywhere + Whoso has drained the chalice stained + With its red wine and rare. + + "O love is dear, O love is sweet, + And yet, of faith's decree + Would Honor quench beneath stern feet + Love's bloom if that need be. + O King, one wills. But Love distils + His philters fatefully!" + + Then did the King in penitence + Weep dole for these two dead. + Some slight remorse had pricked his sense + That he through wile had wed + His best knight's love; alas, to prove + Such end, so ill bestead! + + In royal crypt he bade the twain + Be laid; and there a vine, + O'er which the murderous scythe was vain, + Sprang up the graves to twine, + Defying death with its green breath: + True plant of seed divine! + + MARY B. DODGE. + + + + +MISS MISANTHROPE. + +BY JUSTIN MCCARTHY. + + +CHAPTER I. + +MISS MISANTHROPE. + +The little town of Dukes-Keeton, in one of the more northern of the +midland counties, had in its older days two great claims to +consideration. One was a park, the other a sweetmeat. The noble family +whose name had passed through many generations of residence at the place +had always left their great park so freely open to every one, that it +came to be like the common property of the public, and the town had +grown into fame by the manufacture of the sweetmeat which bore its name +almost everywhere in the track of the meteor-flag of England. But as +time went on other places took to manufacturing the sweetmeat so much +better, and selling it so much more successfully than "Keeton," as the +town was commonly called, could do, that "Keeton" itself had long since +retired from the business, and was content to import the delicacy which +still bore its own name in consignments of canisters from Manchester or +London. During many years the heir of the noble family had deserted the +park, and absolutely never came near it or near England even, and +everything that gave the town a distinct reason for existence seemed to +be passing rapidly into tradition. It had lain out of the track of the +railway system for a long time, and when the railway system at length +enclosed it in its arms, the attention seemed to have come too late. All +the heat of life appeared to have chilled out of Dukes-Keeton in the +mean time, and it lay now between two railways almost as inanimate and +hopeless a lump as the child to whom the Erl-king's touch is fatal in +his father's arms. + +The park, with its huge palace-like, barrack-like house, not a castle, +and too great to be called merely a hall, lies almost immediately +outside the town. From streets and shops the visitor passes straightway +through the gates of the great enclosure. Every stranger who has seen +the house is taken at once to see another object of interest. + +In the centre of the park was a broad, clear space, made by the felling +and removing of every tree, until it spread there sharp and hard as a +burnt-out patch in a forest. Gravel and small shells made the pavement +of this space, and thus formed a new contrast with the turf, the +grasses, and the underwood of the park all around. In the midst of this +open space there rose a large circular building: a tower low in height +when the bulk enclosed by its circumference was considered, and standing +on a great square platform of solid masonry with steps on each of its +sides. The tower itself reminded one of the tomb of Cecilia Metella, or +some other of the tombs that still stand near Rome. It was in fact the +mausoleum which it had pleased the father of the present owner to have +erected for himself during his lifetime. He lavished money on it, cared +nothing for the cost of materials and labor, planned it out himself, +watched every detail, and stood by the workmen as they toiled. Within he +had prepared a lordly reception-room for his dead body when he should +come to die. A superb sarcophagus of porphyry, fit to have received the +remains of a Caesar, was there. When the work was done and all was ready, +the lonely owner visited it every day, unlocked its massive gate, and +went in, and sat sometimes for hours in his own mausoleum. He was +growing insane, people thought, in these later days, and they counted on +his soon becoming an actual madman. So far, however, he showed no +greater madness than in wasting his money on a huge tomb, and wasting so +much of his time in visiting it prematurely. The tomb proved a vanity in +a double sense. For the noble owner was seized with a sudden mania for +travel, and resolved to go round the world. Somewhere in mid ocean he +was attacked by fever, or what alarmed people called the plague, and he +died, and his body had to be committed without much delay or ceremonial +to the sea. He had built his monument to no purpose. He was never to +occupy it. It stood a vast and solid gibe at the vanity of its founder. + +Over the great gate through which the mausoleum was entered were three +heads sculptured in stone. One was that of a man in the prime of +manhood, with lips and eyebrows contracted and puckered, forehead +wrinkled, eyes full of anxious strain, all telling of care, of pain, of +sleepless struggle against difficulty, watchfulness to ward off danger. +This was Life. The next was the face of the same man with the eyes +closed and the cheeks sunken, and the expression of one who had fallen +into sleep from pain--the struggle and agony gone indeed, but their +shadow still resting on the brows and the lips: and that of course was +Death. The third piece of carving showed the same face still, but now +with clear eyes looking broadly and brightly forward, and with features +all noble, serene, and glad. This was Eternity. These three faces were +the wonder and admiration of the neighborhood, and had been for now some +years back employed to solve the problem of existence for all the little +lads and lasses of Keeton who might otherwise have failed sometimes to +see the harmonious purpose working in all things. The sculptor had it +all his own way, and took care that Life should have the worst of it. +Keeton was in almost all its conditions a place of rather sleepy +contentment, and its people could be trusted to take just as much of the +moral as was good for them, and not to carry to extremes the lesson as +to the discomfort and dissatisfaction of the probationary life-period. +Otherwise there might perhaps be a chance that impressionable, not to +say morbid, persons would desire to hurry very rapidly through the dark +and anxious vestibule of life in order to get into the broad bright +temple of Eternity. + +Some thought like this was passing through the mind of Miss Minola Grey, +who sat on the steps of the tomb and looked up into the faces +illustrative of man's struggle and final success. Life had long been +wearing a hard and difficult appearance to her, and she would perhaps +have been glad enough sometimes if she could have got into the haven of +quiet waters which, in the minds of so many people and in so many +symbolic representations, is made to stand for Eternity. She was a +handsome, graceful girl, rather tall, fair-haired, with deep bluish gray +eyes which seemed to darken as they looked earnestly at any one--eyes +which might be described in Matthew Arnold's words as "too expressive to +be blue, too lovely to be gray"--with a broad forehead, from which the +hair was thrown back in disregard of passing fashions. Perhaps it was +her attitude, as she leaned her chin upon her hand and looked up at the +mausoleum--perhaps it was the presence of that gloomy building +itself--that made her face seem like an illustration of melancholy. +Certainly her face was pale and a little wanting in fulness, and the +lips were of the kind that one can always think of as tremulous with +emotion of some kind. This was a beautiful summer evening, and all the +park around was green, sunny, and glad. The dry bare spot on which the +tomb was built seemed like a gray and withering leaf on a bright branch; +and the figure of the girl was more in keeping with the melancholy +shadow of the mausoleum than the joyousness of the sun and the trees and +the whole scene all around. + +Indeed, there was a good deal of melancholy in the girl's mind at that +moment. She was taking leave of the place: had come to say it a +farewell. That park had been her playground, her studio, her stage, her +world of fancy and romance and poetry since her infancy. She had driven +her brother as a horse there, and had played with him at hunting lions. +She had studied landscape drawing there from the days when a half +staggery stroke with some blotches out of it was supposed to represent a +tree, and a thing shaped like the trade-mark on Mr. Bass's beer bottles +stood for a mountain. As she grew up she came there to read and to idle +and to think. There she revelled in all the boundless fancies and +extravagant ambitions of a clever, half-poetic child. There she was in +turn the heroine of every book that delighted her, and the heroine of +stories which had never been put into print. Heroes of surpassing +beauty, strength, courage, and devotion had rambled under these trees +for years with her, nor had the new-comer's presence ever been made a +cause of jealousy or complaint by the one whom his coming displaced. +They were a strange procession of all complexions and garbs. Achilles +the golden-haired had been with her in his day, and so had the +melancholy Master of Ravenswood: and the young Djalma, the lover of +Adrienne of the "Juif Errant," forgotten of English girls to-day; and +Nello, the proud gondolier lad with the sweet voice, who was loved by +the mother and the daughter of the Aldinis; and the unnamed youth who +went mad for Maud; and Henry Esmond, and Stunning Warrington, and Jane +Eyre's Rochester, and ever so many else. Each and all of these in turn +loved her and was passionately loved by her, and all had done great +things for her; and for each she had done far greater things. She had +made them victorious, crowned them with laurels, died for them. It was a +peculiarity of her temperament that when she read some pathetic story it +was not at the tragic passages that her tears came. It was not the +deaths that touched her most. It was when she read of bold and generous +things suddenly done, of splendid self-sacrifice, of impossible rescue +and superhuman heroism, that she could not keep down her feelings, and +was glad when only the watching, untelltale trees could see the tears in +her eyes. + +She had, however, two heroes chief over all the rest, whose story she +found it impossible to keep apart, and whom she blended commonly into +one odd compound. These were Hamlet and Alceste, the "Misanthrope" of +Moliere. It was sometimes Alceste who offered to be buried quick with +Ophelia in the grave; and it was often Hamlet who interjected his scraps +of poetic cynicism between the pretty and scandalous prattlings of +Celimene and her petticoaterie. But perhaps Alceste came nearest to the +heart of our young maid as she grew up. She said to herself over and +over again that "C'est n'estimer rien qu'estimer tout le monde." She +refused "d'un coeur la vaste complaisance qui ne fait de merite aucune +difference," and declared that "pour le trancher net l'ami du genre +humain n'est point du tout mon fait." No doubt there was unconscious or +only half conscious affectation in this, as there is in the ways of +almost all young people who are fond of reading; and her way of thinking +herself a girl-Alceste would probably have vanished with other whims, or +been supplanted by fancies of imitation caught from other models, if +everything had gone well with her. But several causes conspired as she +grew into a woman to make her think very seriously that Alceste was not +wrong in his general estimate of men and their merits. She was intensely +fond of her mother, and when her mother died her father married again, +his second wife being a young woman who put him under the most absolute +control, being not by any means an ill-natured person, but only +strong-willed, serene, and stupid. Then her brother, to whom she was +devoted, and who was her absolute confidant, went away to Canada, +declaring he would not stand a stepmother, and that as soon as his +sister grew old enough to put away domestic control he would send for +her; and he soon got married and became a prominent member of the +Dominion Legislature, and in none of his not over frequent letters said +a word about his promise to send for her. Now, her father was some time +dead; her stepmother had married Mr. Saulsbury, an elderly Nonconformist +minister, who was shocked at all the ways of Alceste's admirer, and with +whom she could not get on. It would take a very sweet and resigned +nature to make one who had had these experiences absolutely in love with +the human race, and especially with men; and Alceste accordingly became +more dear than ever to Miss Grey. + +Now she was about to leave the place and open of her own accord a new +chapter in life. She had to escape at once from the dislike of some and +the still less endurable liking of others. She was determined to go, and +yet as she looked around upon the place, and all its dear sweet memories +filled her, it is no wonder if she envied the calmness of the face that +symbolized eternal rest. At last she broke down, and covered her face +with her hands, and gave herself up to tears. + +Her quick ears, however, heard sounds which she knew were not those of +the rustling woods. She started to her feet and dried her eyes hastily. +Straight before her now there lay the long broad path through the trees +which led up to the gate of the mausoleum. The air was so exquisitely +pure and still that the footfall of a person approaching could be +distinctly heard by the girl, although the newcomer was yet far away. +She could see him, however, and recognized him, and she had no doubt +that he had seen her. A thought of escape at first occurred to her; but +she gave it up in a moment, for she knew that the person approaching had +come to seek her, and must have seen her before she saw him. So she sat +down again defiantly and waited. She did not look his way, although he +raised his hat to her more than once. + +As he comes near we can see that he is a handsome, rather stiff looking +man, with full formal dark whiskers, clearly cut face, and white teeth. +His hat is very shiny. He wears a black frock coat buttoned across the +chest, and dark trowsers, and dainty little boots, and gray gloves, and +has a diamond pin in his necktie. He is Mr. Augustus Sheppard, a very +considerable person indeed in the town. Dukes-Keeton, it should be said, +had three classes or estates. The noble owners of the park and the +guests whom they used to bring to visit them in their hospitable days +made one estate. The upper class of the town made another estate; and +the working people and the poor generally made the third. These three +classes (there were at present only two of them represented in Keeton) +were divided by barriers which it never occurred to any imagination to +think of getting over. Mr. Augustus Sheppard was a leading man among the +townspeople. His father was a solicitor and land agent of old standing, +and Mr. Augustus followed his father's profession, and now did by far +the greater part of its work. He was a member of the Church of England +of course, but he made it part of his duty to be on the best terms with +the Dissenters, for Keeton was growing to be very strong in dissent of +late years. Mr. Augustus Sheppard had done a great deal for the mental +and other improvement of the town. It was he who got up the Mutual +Improvement Society, and made himself responsible for the rent of the +hall in which the winter course of lectures, organized by him, used to +take place; and he always gave a lecture himself every season, and he +took the chair very often and introduced other lecturers. He always +worked most cordially with the Rev. Mr. Saulsbury in trying to restrict +the number of public houses, and he was one of the few persons whom Mrs. +Saulsbury cordially admired. He had a word of formal kindness for every +one, and was never heard to say an ill-natured thing of any one behind +his or her back. He was vaguely believed to be ambitious of worldly +success, but only in a proper and becoming way, and far-seeing people +looked forward to finding him one day in the House of Commons. + +As he came near the mausoleum he raised his hat again, and then the girl +acknowledged his salute and stood up. + +"A very lovely evening, Miss Grey." + +"Yes," said Miss Grey, and no more. + +"I have been at your house, Miss Grey, and saw your people; and I heard +that possibly you were in the park. I thought perhaps you would have +been at home. When I saw you last night you seemed to believe that you +would be at home all the day." This was said in a gentle tone of implied +reproach. + +"_You_ spoke then of walking in the park, Mr. Sheppard." + +"And I have kept my word, you see," Mr. Sheppard said, not observing the +implied reason for her change of purpose. + +"Yes, I see it now," she answered, as one who should say, "I did not +count upon it then." + +Of all men else, Minola Grey would have avoided him. She knew only too +well what he had come for. She would perhaps have disliked him for that +in any case, but she certainly disliked him on his own account. His +formal and heavy manners impressed her disagreeably, and she liked to +say things that puzzled and startled him. It was a pleasure to her to +throw some paradox or odd saying at him, and watch his awkward attempts +to catch it, and then while he was just on the point of getting at some +idea of it to bewilder him with some new enigma. To her he seemed to be +what he was not, simply a sham, a heavy piece of hypocrisy. Formalism +and ostentatious piety she recognized as part of the business of a +Nonconformist minister, in whom they were excusable, as his grave garb +would be, but they seemed insufferably out of place when adopted by a +layman and a man of the world, who was still young. + +"I am glad to have found you at last," Mr. Sheppard said, with a grave +smile. + +"You might have found me at first," Minola said, quoting from Artemus +Ward, "if you had come a little sooner, Mr. Sheppard. I have only lately +escaped here." + +"I wish I had known, and I would have come a great deal sooner. May I +take the liberty of sitting beside you?" + +"I am going to stand, Mr. Sheppard. But that need not prevent you from +sitting." + +"I should not think of sitting unless you do. Shall we walk a little +among the trees? This is a gloomy spot for a young lady." + +"I prefer to stand here for a little, Mr. Sheppard, but don't let me +keep you from enjoying a walk." + +"Enjoying a walk?" he said, with a grave smile and solemn emphasis. +"Enjoying a walk, Miss Grey--and without you?" + +She deliberately avoided meeting the glance with which he was +endeavoring to give additional meaning to this polite speech. She knew +that he had come to make love to her; and though she was longing to have +the whole thing done with, as it must be settled one way or the other, +she detested and dreaded the ordeal, and would have put it off if she +could. So she did not give any sign of having understood or even heard +his words, and the opportunity for going on with his purpose, which he +had hoped to extract, was lost for the moment. In truth, Mr. Sheppard +was afraid of this girl, and she knew it, and liked him none the more +for it. + +"I have been studying something with great interest, Mr. Sheppard," she +began, as if determined to cut him off from his chance for the present. +"I have made a discovery." + +"Indeed, Miss Grey? Yes--I saw that you were in deep contemplation as I +came along, and I wondered within myself what could have been the +subject of your thoughts." + +She colored a little and looked suddenly at him, asking herself whether +he could have seen her tears. His face, however, gave no explanation, +and she felt assured that he had not seen them. + +"I have found, Mr. Sheppard, that some of the weaknesses of men are +alive in the insect world." + +"Indeed, Miss Grey? Some of the affections of men do indeed live, we are +told, in the insect world. So beautifully ordained is everything----" + +"The affectations I meant, not the affections of men, Mr. Sheppard. +Could you ever have believed that an insect would be capable of a +deliberate attempt at imposture?" + +"I should certainly not have looked for anything of the kind, Miss Grey. +But there is unfortunately so much of evil mixed up with all----" + +"So there is. I was going to tell you that as I came here and passed +through the garden, my attention was directed--is not that the proper +way to put it?" + +"To put it, Miss Grey?" + +"Yes; my attention was directed to a large, heavy, respectable +blue-bottle fly. He kept flying from flower to flower, and burying his +stupid head in every one in turn, and making a ridiculous noise. I +watched his movements for a long time. It was evident to the meanest +understanding that he was trying to attract attention and was hoping the +eyes of the world were on him. You should have seen his pretence at +enjoying the flowers and drinking in sweetness from them--and he stayed +longest on the wrong flowers!" + +"Dear me! Now why did he do that?" + +"Because he didn't know any better, and he was trying to make us think +he did." + +"But, Miss Grey--a fly--a blue-bottle! Now really--how did you know what +he was thinking of?" + +"I watched him closely--and I found him out at last. Have you not +guessed what the meaning of the whole thing was?" + +"Well, Miss Grey, I can't say that I quite understand it just yet; but I +am sure I shall be greatly interested on hearing the explanation." + +"It was simply the imposture of a blue-bottle trying to pass himself off +as a bee! It was man's affectation put under the microscope!" + +Mr. Sheppard looked up at her in the hope of catching from her face some +clear intimation as to whether she was in jest or earnest, and demeaning +himself accordingly. But her eyes were cast down and he could not make +out the riddle. Driven by desperation, he dashed in, to prevent the +possible propounding of another before he had time to come to his point. + +"All the professions of men are not affectations, Miss Grey! Oh, no: far +from it indeed. There are some feelings in our breasts which are only +too real!" + +She saw that the declaration was coming now and must be confronted. + +"I have long wished for an opportunity of revealing to you some of my +feelings, Miss Grey, and I hope the chance has now arrived. May I +speak?" + +"I can't prevent you from speaking, Mr. Sheppard." + +"You will hear me?" + +He was in such fear of her and so awkward about the terms of his +declaration of love that he kept clutching at every little straw that +seemed to give him something to hold on to for a moment's rest and +respite. + +"I had better hear you, I suppose," she said with an air of profound +depression, "if you will go on, Mr. Sheppard. But if you would please +me, you would stop where you are and say no more." + +"You know what I am going to say, Miss Grey--you must have known it this +long time. I have asked your natural guardians and advisers, and they +encourage me to speak. Oh, Miss Grey--I love you. May I hope that I may +look forward to the happiness of one day making you my wife?" + +It was all out now, and she was glad. The rest would be easy. He looked +even then so prosaic and formal that she did not believe in any of his +professed emotions, and she was therefore herself unmoved. + +"No, Mr. Sheppard," she said, looking calmly at him straight in the +face. "Such a day will never come. Nothing that I have seen in life +makes me particularly anxious to be married; and I could not marry you." + +He had expected evasion, but not bluntness. He knew well enough that the +girl did not love him, but he had believed that he could persuade her to +marry him. Now her pointblank refusal completely staggered him. + +"Why not, Miss Grey?" was all he could say at first. + +"Because, Mr. Sheppard, I really much prefer not to marry you." + +"There is not any one else?" he asked, his face for the first time +showing emotion and anger. + +The faint light of a melancholy smile crossed Minola's face. He grew +more angry. + +"Miss Grey--now, you must tell me that! I have a right to ask--yes: and +your people would expect me to ask. You must tell me _that_." + +"Well," she said, "if you force me to it, and if you will have an +answer, I must give you one, Mr. Sheppard. I have a lover already, and I +mean to keep him." + +Mr. Sheppard was positively shocked by the suddenness and coolness of +this revelation. He recovered himself, however, and took refuge in +unbelief. + +"Miss Grey, you don't mean it, I know--I can't believe it. Why, I have +known you and seen you grow up since you were a child. Mrs. Saulsbury +couldn't but know----" + +"Mrs. Saulsbury knows nothing of me: we know nothing of each other. I +_have_ a lover, Mr. Sheppard, for all that. Do you want to know his +name?" + +"I should like to know his name, certainly," the breathless Sheppard +stammered out. + +"His name is Alceste----" + +"A Frenchman!" Sheppard was aghast. + +"A Frenchman truly--a French gentleman--a man of truth and courage and +spirit and honor and everything good. A man who wouldn't tell a lie or +do a mean thing, or flatter a silly woman, or persecute a very unhappy +girl--no, not to save his soul, Mr. Sheppard. Do you happen to know any +such man?" + +"No such man lives in Keeton." He was surprised into simple earnestness. +"At least I don't know of any such man." + +"No; you and he are not likely to come together and be very familiar. +Well, Mr. Sheppard, that is the man to whom I am engaged, and I mean to +keep my engagement. You can tell Mrs. Saulsbury if you like." + +"But you haven't told me his other name." + +"Oh--I don't know his other name." + +"Miss Grey! Don't know his other name?" + +"No: and I don't think he has any other name. He has but the one name +for me, and I don't want any second." + +"Where does he live, then--may I ask?" + +"Oh, yes--I may as well tell you all now, since I have told you so much. +He only lives in a book, Mr. Sheppard; in what you would call a play," +she added with contemptuous expression. + +"Oh, come now--I thought you were only amusing yourself." A smile of +reviving satisfaction stole over his face. "I'm not much afraid of a +rival like that, Miss Grey--if he is my only rival." + +"I don't know why you talk of a rival," the young woman answered, with a +scornful glance at him; "but I can assure you he would be the most +dangerous rival a living man could have. When I find a man like him, Mr. +Sheppard, I hope he will ask me to marry him; indeed, when I find such a +man I'll ask him to marry me--and if he be the man I take him for, he'll +refuse me. I have told you all the truth now, Mr. Sheppard, and I hope +you will think I need not say any more." + +"Still, I'm not quite without hope that something may be done," Mr. +Sheppard said. "How if I were to study your hero's ways and try to be +like him, Miss Grey?" + +A great brown heavy velvety bee at the moment came booming along, his +ponderous flight almost level with the ground and not far above it. He +sailed in and out among the trees and branches, now burying himself for +a few seconds in some hollow part of a trunk, and then plodding through +air again. + +"Do you think it would be of any use, Mr. Sheppard," she calmly asked, +"if that honest bee were to study the ways of the eagle?" + +"You are not complimentary, Miss Grey," he said, reddening. + +"No: I don't believe in compliments: I very much prefer truth." + +"Still there are ways of conveying the truth--and of course I never +professed to be anything very great and heroic----" + +He was decidedly hurt now. + +"Mr. Sheppard," she said, in a softer and more appealing tone, "I don't +want to quarrel with you or with anybody, and please don't drive me on +to make myself out any worse than I am. I don't care about you, and I +never could. We never could get on together. I don't care for any man--I +don't like men at all. I wouldn't marry you if you were an emperor. But +I don't say anything against you; at least I wouldn't if you would only +let me alone. I am very unhappy sometimes--almost always now; but at +least I mean to make no one unhappy but myself." + +"That's what comes of books and poetry and solitary walks and nonsense! +Why can't you listen to the advice of those who love you?" + +She turned upon him angrily again. + +"Well, I am not speaking of myself now, but of your--your people, who +only desire your good. Mr. Saulsbury, Mrs. Saulsbury----" + +"Once for all, Mr. Sheppard, I shall not take their advice; and if you +would have me think of you with any kindness at all, any memory not +disagreeable and--and detestable, you will not talk to me of their +advice. Even if I had been inclined to care for you, Mr. Sheppard, you +took a wrong way when you came in their name and talked of their +authority. Next time you ask a girl to marry you, Mr. Sheppard, do it in +your own name." + +He caught eagerly at the kind of negative hope that seemed to be held +out to him. + +"If that's an objection," he began, "I assure you that I came quite of +my own motion, and I am the last man in the world to endeavor to bring +any unfair means to bear. Of course it is not as if they were your own +parents, and I can quite understand how a young lady must feel----" + +"I don't know much of how young ladies feel," Minola said quietly, "but +I know how I feel, Mr. Sheppard, and you know it too. Take my last word. +I'll never marry you. You only waste your time, and perhaps the time of +somebody else as well--some good girl, Mr. Sheppard, who would be glad +to marry you and whom you will be quite ready to make love to the day +after to-morrow." + +Her heart was hardened against him now, for she thought him mean and +craven and unmanly. Perhaps, according to her familiar creed, she ought +rather to have thought him manly, meanness being in that sense one of +the attributes of man. She did not believe in the genuineness of his +love, and in any case no thought was more odious to her than that of a +man pressing a girl to marry him if she did not love him and was not +ready to meet him half way. + +There was a curious contrast between these two figures as they stood on +the steps of that great empty tomb. The contrast was all the more +singular and even the more striking because the two might easily have +been described in such terms as would seem to suggest no contrast. If +they were described as a handsome young man (for he was scarcely more +than thirty) and a handsome young woman, the description would be +correct. He was rather tall, she was rather tall; but he was formal, +severe, respectable, and absolutely unpicturesque--she was picturesque +in every motion. His well-made clothes sat stiffly on him, and the first +idea he conveyed was that he was carefully dressed. Even a woman would +not have thought, at the first glance at least, of how _she_ was +dressed. She only impressed one with a sense of the presence of graceful +and especially emotional womanhood. The longer one looked at the two the +deeper the contrast seemed to become. Both, for example, had rather thin +lips; but his were rigid, precise, and seeming to part with a certain +deliberation and even difficulty. Hers appeared, even when she was +silent, to be tremulous with expression. After a while it would have +seemed to an observer, if any observing eye were there, that no power on +earth could have brought these two into companionship. + +"I won't take this as your final answer," he said, after one or two +unsuccessful efforts to speak. "You will consider this again, and give +it some serious reflection." + +She only shook her head, and once more seated herself on the steps of +the monument as if to suggest that now the interview was over. + +"You are not walking homeward?" he asked. + +"I am staying here for awhile." + +He bade her good morning and walked slowly away. A rejected lover looks +to great disadvantage when he has to walk away. He ought to leap on the +back of a horse, and spur him fiercely and gallop off; or the curtain +ought to fall and so finish up with him. Otherwise, even the most heroic +figure has something of the look of one sneaking off like a dog told +imperatively to "go home." Mr. Sheppard felt very uncomfortable at the +thought that he probably did not seem dignified in the eyes of Miss +Grey. He once glanced back uneasily, but perhaps it was not a relief to +find that she was not looking in his direction. + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE EVE OF LIBERTY. + +Miss Grey remained in the park until the sun had gone down and the +stars, with their faint light, seemed as she moved homeward to be like +bright sparkles entangled among the high branches of the trees. She had +a great deal to think of, and she troubled herself little about the +mental depression of her rejected lover. All the purpose of her life was +now summed up in a resolve to get away from Keeton and to bury herself +in London. + +She knew that any opposition to her proposal on the part of those who +were still supposed to be her guardians would only be founded on an +objection to it as something unwomanly, venturous, and revolutionary, +and not by any means the result of any grief for her going away. Ever +since her mother's death and her father's second marriage she had only +chafed at existence, and found those around her disagreeable, and no +doubt made herself disagreeable to them. She had ceased to feel any +respect for her father when he married again, and he knew it and became +cold and constrained with her. Only just before his death had there +been anything like a revival of their affection for each other. He had +been a man of some substance and authority in his town, had built +houses, and got together property, and he left his daughter a not +inconsiderable annuity as a charge upon his property, and placed her +under the guardianship of the elderly and respectable Nonconformist +minister, who, as luck would have it, afterward married his young widow. +Minola had seen so many marriages during her short experience, and had +disliked two at least of them so thoroughly, that she was much inclined +to say with one of her heroes that there should be no more of them. For +a long time she had made up her mind that when she came of age she would +go to London and live there. She still wanted a few months of the time +of independence, but the manner in which Mr. Augustus Sheppard was +pressed upon her by himself and others made her resolve to anticipate +the course of the seasons a little, and go away at once. In London she +made up her mind that she would lead a life of enchantment: of +delightful and semi-savage solitude, in the midst of the crowd; of wild +independence and scorn of all the ways of men, with books at her +command, with the art galleries and museums, of which she had read so +much, always within easy reach, and the streets which were alive for her +with such sweet and dear associations all around her. + +Miss Grey knew London well. She had never yet set foot in it, or been +anywhere out of her native town; but she had studied London as a general +may study the map of some country which he expects one day to invade. +Many and many a night, when all in the house but she were fast asleep, +she had had the map of London spread out before her, and had puzzled her +way through the endless intricacies of its streets. Few women of her +age, or of any age, actually living in the metropolis, had anything like +the knowledge of its districts and its principal streets that she had. +She felt in anticipation the pride and delight of being able to go +whither she would about London without having to ask her way of any one. +Some particular association identified every place in her mind. The +living and the dead, the romantic and the real, history and fiction, all +combined to supply her with labels of association, which she might +mentally put upon every quarter and district, and almost upon every +street which had a name worth knowing. As we all know Venice before we +have seen it, and when we get there can recognize everything we want to +see without need of guide to name it for us, so Minola Grey knew London. +It is no wonder now that her mind was in a perturbed condition. She was +going to leave the place in which so far all her life literally had been +passed. She was going to live in that other place which had for years +been her dream, her study, her self-appointed destiny. She was going to +pass away for ever from uncongenial and odious companionship, and to +live a life of sweet, proud, lonely independence. + +The loneliness, however, was not to be literal and absolute. In all +romantic adventures there is companionship. The knight has his squire, +Rosalind has her Celia. Minola Grey was to have her companion in her +great enterprise. It had not indeed occurred to her to think about the +inconvenience or oddness of a girl living absolutely alone in London, +but the kindly destinies had provided her with a comrade. Having +lingered long in the park and turned back again and again for another +view of some favorite spot, having gathered many a leaf and flower for +remembrance, and having looked up many times with throbbing heart at the +white, trembling stars that would shine upon her soon in London, Miss +Grey at last made up her mind and passed resolutely out at the great +gate and went to seek this companion. She was glad to leave the park now +in any case, for in the fine evenings of summer and autumn it was the +custom of Keeton people to make it their promenade. All the engaged +couples of the place would soon be there under the trees. When a lad and +lass were seen to walk boldly and openly together of evenings in that +park, and to pass and repass their neighbors without effort at avoiding +such encounters, it was as well known that they were engaged as though +the fact had been proclaimed by the town-crier. A jury of Keeton folk +would have assumed a promise of marriage and proceeded to award damages +for its breach if it were proved that a young man had walked openly for +any three evenings in the park with a girl whom he afterward declined to +make his wife. Minola did not care to meet any of the joyous couples or +their friends, and even already the twitter of voices and the titter of +feminine laughter were beginning to make themselves heard among the +darkling paths and across the broad green lanes of the park. + +From the gates of the park one passed, as has been said already, almost +directly into the town. The town itself was divided in twain by a river, +the river spanned by a bridge which had a certain fame from the fact of +its having been the scene of a brave stand and a terrible slaughter +during the civil wars after Charles I. had set up his standard at +Nottingham. To be sure there was not much left of the genuine old bridge +on which the fight was fought, nor did the broad, flat, handsome, and +altogether modern structure bear much resemblance to the sort of bridge +which might have crossed a river in the days of the Cavaliers. Residents +of Keeton always, however, boasted of the fact that one of the arches of +the bridge was just the same underneath as it had always been, and +insisted on bringing the stranger down by devious and grassy paths to +the river's edge in order that he might see for himself the old stones +still holding together which had perhaps been shaken by the tramp of +Rupert's troopers. On the park side of the bridge lay the genteeler and +more pretentious houses, the semi-detached villas and lodges and +crescents of Keeton; and there too were the humbler cottages. On the +other side of the bridge were the business streets and the clustering +shops, most of them old-fashioned and dark, with low, beetling fronts +and narrow panes in the windows, and only here and there a showy and +modern establishment, with its stucco front and its plate glass. The +streets were all so narrow that they seemed as if they must be only +passages leading to broader thoroughfares. The stranger walked on and +on, thinking he was coming to the actual town of Dukes-Keeton, until he +walked out at the other side and found he had left it behind him. + +Minola Grey crossed the bridge, although her own home lay on the side +nearest the park, and made her way through the narrow streets. She +glanced with a shudder at one formal official looking house of dark +brick which she had to pass, and the door of which bore a huge brass +plate with the words "Sheppard & Sheppard, Solicitors and Land Agents." +Another expression of dislike or pain crossed her handsome, pale, and +emotional face when she passed a little lane, closed at the further end +by the heavy, sombre front of a chapel, for it was there that she had +even still to pass some trying, unsympathetic hours of the Sunday +listening to a preacher whose eloquence was rather too familiar to her +all the week. At length she passed the front of a large building of +light-colored stone, with a Greek portico and row of pillars and high +flight of steps, and which to the eye of any intelligent mortal had +"Court House" written on its very face. Miss Grey went on and passed its +front entrance, then turning down a narrow street, of which the building +itself formed one side, she came to a little open door, went in, ran +lightly up a flight of stone steps, and found herself in dun and dimly +lighted corridors of stone. + +A ray or two of the evening light still flickered through the small +windows of the roof. But for this all would seemingly have been dark. +Minola's footfall echoed through the passages. The place appeared +ghostly and sad, and the presence of youth, grace, and energetic +womanhood was strangely out of keeping with all around. The whole +expression and manner of Miss Grey brightened, however, as she passed +along these gaunt and echoing corridors. In the sunlight of the park +there seemed something melancholy in the face of the girl which was not +in accord with her years, her figure, and her deep, soft eyes. Now, in +this dismal old passage of damp resounding stone, she seemed so joyous +that her passing along might have been that of another Pippa. The place +was not very unlike a prison, and an observer might have been pleased to +think that, as the light step of the girl passed the door of each cell, +and the flutter of her garments was faintly heard, some little gleam of +hope, some gentle memory, some breath of forgotten woods and fields, +some softening inspiration of human love, was borne in to every +imprisoned heart. But this was no prison; only the courthouse where +prisoners were tried; and its rooms, occupied in the day by judges, +lawyers, policemen, public, suitors, and culprits, were now locked, +empty, and silent. + +Minola went on, singing to herself as she went, her song growing louder +and bolder until at last it thrilled finely up to the stone roofs of the +grim halls and corridors. For Minola was of that temperament to which +resolve of any kind soon brings the excitement of high spirits, and she +sang now out of sheer courage and purpose. + +Presently she stopped at a low, dark, oaken door which looked as if it +might admit to some dingy lumber-room or closet; and this door opened +instantly and she was in presence of a pretty and cheerful little +picture. The side of the building where the room was set looked upon the +broadest and clearest space in the town, and through the open window +could be seen distinctly the glassy gray of the quiet river and even +the trees of the park, a dark mass beneath the pale summer sky. Although +the room was lit only by the twilight, in which the latest lingering +reflection of the sunset still lived, it looked bright to the girl who +had come from the heavy dusk and gloom of the corridors with their +roof-windows and their rows of grim doors. A room ought to look bright, +too, when the visitor on just appearing on its threshold is rushed upon +and clasped and kissed and greeted as "You dear, dear darling." Such a +welcome met Miss Grey, and then she was instantly drawn into the room, +the door of which was closed behind her. + +The occupant of the room who thus welcomed Minola was a woman not far +short probably of forty years of age. She was short, she was decidedly +growing fat, she had a face which ought from its outlines and its color +to be rather humorous and mirthful than otherwise, and a pair of very +fine, deep, and consequently somewhat melancholy eyes. These eyes were +the only beauty of Miss Mary Blanchet's face. She had not good sight, +for all their brightness. When any one talked with her at some little +distance across a room, or even across a broad table, he could easily +see by the irresponsive look of the eyes--the eyes which never quite +found a common focus with his even during the most animated interchange +of thought--that Miss Blanchet had short sight. But Miss Blanchet always +frankly and firmly declined to put on spectacles. "I have only my eyes +to boast of, my dear," she said to all her female advisers, "and I am +not going to cover them with ugly spectacles, you may be sure." Hers was +a life of the simplest vanity, the most innocent affectation. Her eyes +had driven her into poetry, love, and disappointment. She was understood +to have loved very deeply and to have been deserted. None of her friends +could quite remember the lover, but every one said that no doubt there +must have been such a person. Miss Blanchet never actually spoke of +him, but she somehow suggested his memory. + +Miss Blanchet was a poetess. She had published by subscription a volume +of verses, which was favorably noticed in the local newspapers and of +which she sent a copy to the Queen, whereof Her Majesty had been kindly +pleased to accept. Thus the poetess became a celebrity and a sort of +public character in Dukes-Keeton, and when her father died it was felt +that the town ought to do something for one who had done so much for it. +It made her custodian of the courthouse, entrusted with the charge of +seeing that it was kept clean, ventilated, water-besprinkled; that when +assizes came on, the judges' rooms were fittingly adorned and that +bouquets of flowers were placed every morning on the bench on which they +sat. This place Miss Blanchet had held for many years. The rising +generation had forgotten all about her poetry, and indeed, as she seldom +went out of her own little domain, had for the most part forgotten her +existence. + +When Minola Grey was a little girl her mother was one of Miss Mary +Blanchet's chiefest patronesses. It was in great measure by the +influence of Minola's father that Miss Blanchet obtained her place in +the courthouse. Little Minola thought her a great poetess and a +remarkably beautiful woman, and accepted somehow the impression that she +had a romantic and mysterious love history. It was a rare delight for +her to be taken to spend an evening with Miss Blanchet, to drink tea in +her pretty and well kept little room, to walk with her through the stone +passages of the courthouse, and hear her repeat her poems. As Minola +grew she outgrew the poems, but the affection survived; and after her +mother's death she found no congenial or sympathetic friend anywhere in +Keeton but Mary Blanchet. The relationship between the two curiously +changed. The tall girl of twenty became the leader, the heroine, the +queen; and Mary Blanchet, sensible little woman enough in many ways, +would have turned African explorer or joined in a rebellion of women +against men if Miss Grey had given her the word of command. + +"I know your mind is made up, dear, now that you have come," Miss +Blanchet said when the first rapture of greeting was over. + +Minola took off her hat and threw it on the little sofa with the air of +one who feels thoroughly at home. It may be remarked as characteristic +of this young woman that in going toward the sofa she had to pass the +chimney-piece with its mirror, and that she did not even cast a glance +at her own image in the glass. + +"Mary," she asked gravely, "am I a man and a brother, that you expect me +to change my mind? You are not repenting, I hope?" + +"Oh, no, my dear. I have all the advantages, you know. I am so tired of +this place and the work--dear me!" + +"And I hate to see you at such work. You might almost as well be a +servant. Years ago I made up my mind to take you out of this wretched +place as soon as I should be of age and my own mistress." + +"Well, I have sent in my resignation, and I am free. But I am a little +afraid about you. You have been used to every luxury--and the +carriage--and all that." + +"One of my ambitions is to drive in a hansom cab. Another is to have a +latch-key. Both will soon be gratified. I am only sorry for one thing." + +"What is that, dear?" + +"That we can't be Rosalind and Celia; that I can't put on man's clothes +and liberty." + +"But you don't like men--you always want to avoid them." + +Miss Grey said nothing in defence of her own consistency. She was +thinking that if she had been a man, she would have been spared the +vexation of having to listen to Mr. Augustus Sheppard's proposals. + +"I suspect," Miss Blanchet said, "that people will say we are more like +Don Quixote and Sancho Panza." + +"Which of us is the Sancho?" + +"Oh, I of course; I am the faithful follower." + +"You--poor little poetess, full of dreams, and hopes, and unselfishness! +Why, I shall have to see that you get something to eat at tolerably +regular intervals." + +"How happy we shall be! And I shall be able to complete my poem! Do you +know, Minola," she said confidentially, "I do believe I shall be able to +make a career in London. I do indeed! The miserable details of daily +life here pressed me down, down," and she pressed her own hand upon her +forehead to illustrate the idea. "There, in freedom and quiet, I do +think I shall be able to prove to the world that I am worth a hearing!" + +This was a tender subject with Miss Grey. She could not bear to disturb +by a word the harmless illusion of her friend, and yet the almost fierce +truthfulness of her nature would not allow her to murmur a sentence of +unmeaning flattery. + +"One word, Mary," she said; "if you grow famous, no marrying--mind!" + +Little Miss Blanchet laughed and then grew sad, and cast her eyes down. + +"Who would ask me to marry, my dearest? And even if they did, the buried +past would come out of the grave--and----" + +She slightly raised both hands in deprecation of this mournful +resurrection. + +"Well, I have all to go through with my people yet." + +"They won't prevent you?" Miss Blanchet asked anxiously. + +"They can't. In a few months I should be my own mistress; and what is +the use of waiting? Besides, they don't really care--except for the sake +of showing authority and proving to girls that they ought to be +contented slaves. They know now that I am no slave. I do believe my +esteemed step-father--or step-stepfather, if there is such a word--would +consent to emancipate me if he could do so with the proper +ceremonial--the slap on the cheek." + +The allusion was lost on Miss Blanchet. + +"Mr. Saulsbury is a stern man indeed," she said, "but very good; that we +must admit." + +"All good men, it seems, are hard, and all soft men are bad." + +"What of Mr. Augustus Sheppard?" Miss Blanchet asked softly. "How will +he take your going away?" + +"I have not asked him, Mary. But I can tell you if you care to know. He +will take it with perfect composure. He has about as much capacity for +foolish affection as your hearth-broom there." + +"I think you are mistaken, Minola--I do indeed. I think that man is +really----" + +"Well. Is really what?" + +"You won't be angry if I say it?" + +Minola seemed as if she were going to be angry, but she looked into the +little poetess's kindly, wistful eyes, and broke into a laugh. + +"I couldn't be angry with you, Mary, if I had ten times my capacity for +anger--and that would be a goodly quantity! Well, what is Mr. Sheppard +really, as you were going to say?" + +"Really in love with you, dear." + +"You kind and believing little poetess--full of faith in simple true +love and all the rest of it! Mr. Sheppard likes what he considers a +respectable connection in Keeton. Failing in one chance he will find +another, and there is an end of that." + +"I don't think so," Miss Blanchet said gravely. "Well, we shall see." + +"We shall not see him any more. We shall live a glorious, lonely, +independent life. I shall study humanity from some lofty garret window +among the stars. London shall be my bark and my bride, as the old songs +about the Rovers used to say. All the weaknesses of humanity shall +reveal themselves to me in the people next door to us and over the way. +I'll study in the British Museum! I'll spend hours in the National +Gallery! I'll lie under the trees in Epping Forest! I _think_ I'll go to +the gallery of a theatre! _Liberte, liberte, cherie!_" And Miss Grey +proceeded to chant from the "Marseillaise" with splendid energy as she +walked up and down the room with clasped hands of mock heroic passion. + +"You said something about a man and a brother just now, dear," Miss +Blanchet gently interposed. "I have something to tell you about a man +and a brother. _My_ brother is back again in London." + +Miss Blanchet made this communication in the tone of one who is trying +to seem as if it would be welcome. + +"Your brother? He has come back?" Miss Grey did not like to add, "I am +so sorry," but that was exactly what she would have said if she had +spoken her mind. + +"Yes, my dear--quite reformed and as steady as can be, and going to make +a great name in London. Oh, you may trust him to this time--you may +indeed." + +Miss Grey's handsome and only too expressive features showed signs of +profound dissatisfaction. + +"I couldn't help telling him that we were going to live in London--one's +brother, you know." + +"Yes, one's brother," Miss Grey said with sarcastic emphasis. "They are +an affectionate race, these brothers! Then he knows all about our +expedition? Has he been here, Mary?" + +"Oh, no, dear; but he wrote to me--such beautiful letters! Perhaps you +would like to read them?" + +Miss Grey was silent, and was evidently fighting some battle with +herself. At last she said: + +"Well, Mary dear, it can't be helped, and I dare say he won't trouble to +come very often to see _us_. But I hope he will come as often as you +like, for you might be terribly lonely. I don't care to know anybody. I +mean to study human nature, not to know people." + +"But you have some friends in London, and you are going to see them." + +"Oh--Lucy Money; yes. She was at school with us, and we used to be fond +of each other. I think of calling to see her, but she may be changed +ever so much, and perhaps we shan't get on together at all. Her father +has become a sort of great man in London, I believe--I don't know how. +They won't trouble us much, I dare say." + +The friends then sat and talked for a short time about their project. It +is curious to observe that though they were such devoted friends they +looked on their joint purpose with very different eyes. The young woman, +with her beauty, her spirit, and her talents, was absolutely sincere and +single-minded, and was going to London with the sole purpose of living a +free, secluded life, without ambition, without thought of any manner of +success. The poor little old maid had her head already filled with wild +dreams of fame to be found in London, of a distinguished brother, a +bright career, publishers seeking for everything she wrote, and her name +often in the papers. Devoted as she was to Miss Grey, or perhaps because +she was so devoted to her, she had already been forming vague but +delightful hopes about the reformed brother which she would not now for +all the world have ventured to hint to her friend. + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE MAN WITH A GRIEVANCE. + +Late that same night a young man stepped from a window in one of the +rooms on the third floor in the Hotel du Louvre in Paris, and stood in +the balcony. It was a balcony in that side of the hotel which looks on +the Rue de Rivoli. The young man smoked a cigar and leaned over the +balcony. + +It was a soft moonlight night. The hour was late and the streets were +nearly silent. The latest omnibus had gone its way, and only now and +then a rare and lingering _voiture_ clicked and clattered along, to +disappear round the corner of the place in front of the Palais Royal. +The long line of gas lamps, looking a faint yellow beneath the hotel and +the Louvre Palace across the way, seemed to deepen and deepen into +redder sparks the further the eye followed them to the right as they +stretched on to the Place de la Concorde and the Champs Elysees. To the +left the young man, leaning from the balcony, could see the tower of St. +Jacques standing darkly out against the faint, pale blue of the +moonlighted sky. The street was a line of silver or snow in the +moonlight. + +The young man was tall, thin, dark, and handsome. He was unmistakably +English, although he had an excitable and nervous way about him which +did not savor of British coolness and composure. He seemed a person not +to take anything easily. Even the moonlight, and the solitude, and the +indescribably soothing and philosophic influence of the contemplation of +a silent city from the serene heights of a balcony, did not prevail to +take him out of himself into the upper ether of mental repose. He pulled +his long moustaches now and then, until they met like a kind of strap +beneath his chin, and again he twisted their ends up as if he desired to +appear fierce as a champion duellist of the Bonapartist group. He +sometimes took his cigar from his lips and held it between his fingers +until it went out, and when he put it into his mouth again he took +several long puffs before he quite realized the fact that he was puffing +at what one might term dry stubble. Then he pulled out a box of fusees +and lighted his cigar in an irritated way, as if he were protesting that +really the fates were bearing down upon him rather too heavily, and that +he was entitled to complain at last. + +"Good evening, sir," said a strong, full British voice that sounded just +at his elbow. + +The young man, looking round, saw that his next-door neighbor in the +hotel had likewise opened his window and stepped out on his balcony. The +two had met before, or at least seen each other before, once or twice. +The young man had seen the elder with some ladies at breakfast in the +hotel, and that evening he and his neighbor had taken coffee side by +side on the boulevards and smoked and exchanged a few words. + +The elder man's strong, rather under-sized figure showed very clearly in +the moonlight. He had thick, almost shaggy hair, of an indefinable dark +brownish color--hair that was not curly, that was not straight, that did +not stand up, and yet could evidently never be kept down. He had a rough +complexioned face, with heavy eyebrows and stubby British whiskers. His +hands were large and reddish-brown and coarse. He was dressed +carelessly--that is, his clothes were evidently garments that had cost +money, but he did not seem to care how he wore them. Any garment must +fall readily into shapelessness and give up trying to fit well on that +unheeding figure. The Briton did not seem exactly what one would at once +assume to be a gentleman. Yet he was not vulgar, and he was evidently +quite at his ease with himself. He looked somehow like a man who had +money or power of some kind, and who did not care whether people knew it +or did not know it. Our younger Briton had at the first glance taken him +for the ordinary English father of a family, travelling with his +womankind. But he had not seen him for two minutes at the breakfast +table before he observed that the supposed heavy father was never in a +fuss, had a way of having all his orders obeyed without trouble or +misunderstanding, and for all his strong British accent talked French +with entire ease and a sort of resolute grammatical accuracy. + +"Staying in Paris?" the elder man said--he too was smoking--when the +younger had replied to his salutation. + +"No; I am going home--I mean I am going to England--to-morrow." + +"Ay, ay? I almost wish I were too. I'm taking my wife and daughters for +a holiday. I don't much care for holidays myself. I hadn't time for +enjoyment of such things when I could enjoy them, and of course when you +get out of the way of enjoying yourself you never get into it again; +it's a sort of groove, I suppose. Anyhow, we don't ever enjoy much, our +people. You are English, I suppose?" + +"Yes, I am English." + +"Wish you weren't? I see." + +Indeed, the tone in which the young man answered the question seemed to +warrant this interpretation. + +"Excuse me; I didn't say that," the young man said, a little sharply. + +"No, no; I only thought you meant it. We are not bound, you know, to +keep rattling up the Rule Britannia always among ourselves." + +"I can assure you I am not at all inclined to rattle the Rule Britannia +too loudly," the young man said, tossing the end of his cigar away and +looking determinedly into the street with his hands dug deeply into his +pockets. + +The elder man smoked for a few seconds in silence, and looked up and +down the long straight line of street. + +"Odd," he said abruptly. "I always think of Balzac when I look into the +streets of Paris, and when I give myself time to think. Balzac sums up +Paris to me." + +"Yes," said the younger man, talking for the first time with an +appearance of genuine interest in the conversation; "but things must be +greatly changed since that time even in Paris, you know." + +"Changed? Not a bit of it. The outsides of course. The Louvre was half a +ruin the other day, and now it's getting all right again. That's change, +if you like to call it so. But the heart of things is just the same. +Balzac stands for Paris, believe you me." + +"I don't believe a word of it--not a word! I mean--excuse me--that I +don't agree with you." + +"Yes, yes: I understand what you mean. I'm not offended. Well?" + +"Well--I don't believe a bit that men and women ever were like that. You +mean to tell me that people were made without hearts in Paris or +anywhere else? Do you believe in a place peopled by cads and sneaks and +curs--and the women half again as bad as the men?" + +The young man grew warm, and the elder drew him out, and they discussed +Balzac as they stood in the balcony and looked down on silent +moonlighted Paris. The elder man smoked and smiled and shrugged his +shoulders good-humoredly. The younger was as full of gesture and +animation as if his life depended on the controversy. + +"All right," the elder said at last. "I like to hear you talk, but Paris +is Balzac to me still. Going to be in London some time?" + +"I suppose so: yes," in a tone of sudden depression and discontent. + +"I wish we might meet. I live in London, and I wish you would come and +see me when we get back from our--holiday we'll call it." + +The young man turned half away and leaned on the balcony as if he were +looking very earnestly for something in the direction of the Champs +Elysees. Then he faced his companion suddenly and said, + +"I think you had much better not have anything to do with me: I should +only prove a bore to you, or to anybody." + +"How is that?" + +"Well--in short, I'm a man with a grievance." + +"Ay, ay? What's your grievance? Whom has it to do with?" + +The young man looked up quickly, as if he did not quite understand the +brusque ways of his new acquaintance, who put his questions so directly. +But the new acquaintance seemed good-humored and quite at his ease, and +evidently had not the least idea of being rude or over-inquisitive. He +had only the way of one apparently used to ordering people about. + +"My grievance is against the Government," the young man said with a +grave politeness, almost like self-assertion. + +"Government here: in France?" + +"No, no: our own Government." + +"Ay, ay? What have they been doing? _You_ haven't invented anything--new +cannon--flying machine--that sort of thing?" + +"No: nothing of the kind--I wish I had--but how did you know?" + +"How did I know what?" + +"That I hadn't invented anything?" + +"Why, I knew it by looking at you. Do you think I shouldn't know an +inventor? You might as well ask me how I know a man has been in the +army. Well, about this grievance of yours?" + +"I dare say you will know my name," the young man said with a sort of +reluctant modesty, which contrasted a little oddly with the quick +movements and rapid talk which usually belonged to him. Then his manner +suddenly changed, and he spoke in a tone of something like irritation, +as if he had better have the whole thing out at once and be done with +it--"My name is Heron--Victor Heron." + +"Heron--Heron?" said the other, turning over the name in his memory. +"Well, I don't know I'm sure--I may have heard it--one hears all sorts +of names. But I don't remember just at the moment." + +Mr. Heron seemed a little surprised that his revelation had produced no +effect. He had made up his mind somehow that his new friend was mixed up +with politics and public affairs. + +"You'll remember Victor Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements?" he said +decisively. + +"Heron of the St. Xavier's Settlements? Ah, yes, yes. To be sure. Yes, I +begin to remember now. Of course, of course. You're the fellow who got +us into the row with the Portuguese or the Dutch, or who was it? About +the slave trade, or something? I remember it in the House." + +"I am the fool," Mr. Heron went on volubly--"the blockhead, the idiot, +that thought England had principles, and honor, and a policy, and all +the rest of it! I haven't lived in England very much. I'm the son of a +colonist--the Herons are an old colonial family--and you can't think, +you people always in England, how romantic and enthusiastic we get about +England, we silly colonists, with our old-fashioned ways. When I got +that confounded appointment--it was given in return for some old +services of my father's--I believe I thought I was going to be another +sort of Raleigh, or something of the kind." + +"Just so; and of course you were ready to tumble into any sort of +scrape. You are hauled over the coals--snubbed for your pains?" + +"Yes--I was snubbed." + +"Of course: they'll soon work the enthusiasm out of you. But that's a +couple of years ago--and you weren't recalled?" + +"No. I wasn't recalled." + +"Well, what's your grievance then?" + +"Why--don't you see?--my time is out--and they've dropped me down. My +whole career is closed--I'm quietly thrown over--and I'm only +twenty-nine!" The young man caught at his moustache with nervous hands +and kicked with one foot against the rails of the balcony. He gazed into +the street, and his eyes sparkled and twinkled as if there were tears in +them. Perhaps there were, for Mr. Heron was evidently a young man of +quicker emotions than young men generally show in our days. He made +haste to say something, apparently as if to escape from himself. + +"I am leaving Paris in the morning." + +"Then why don't you go to bed and have a sleep?" + +"Well, I don't feel like sleeping just yet." + +"You young fellows never know the blessing of sleep. I can sleep +whenever I want to--it's a great thing. I make it a rule though to do +all my sleeping at night, whenever I can. You leave Paris in the +morning? Now that's a thing I don't like to do. Paris should never be +seen early in the morning. London shows to the best advantage early; but +Paris--no!" + +"Why not?" Mr. Heron asked, stimulated to a little curiosity. + +"Paris is a beauty, you know, a little on the wane, and wanting to be +elaborately made up and curled and powdered and painted, and all that. +She's a little of a slattern underneath the surface, you know, and +doesn't bear to be taken unawares--mustn't be seen for at least an hour +or two after she has got out of bed. All the more like Balzac's women." + +Perhaps the elder man had observed Mr. Heron's sensitiveness more +closely and clearly than Heron fancied, and was talking on only to give +him time to recover his composure. Certainly he talked much more volubly +and continuously than appeared at first to be his way. After a while he +said, in his usual style of blunt but not unkind inquiry-- + +"Any of your people living in London?" + +"No--in fact, I haven't any people in England--few relations now left +anywhere." + +"Like Melchisedek, eh? Well, I don't know that he was the most to be +pitied of men. You have friends enough, I suppose?" + +"Not friends exactly--acquaintances enough, I dare say--people to call +on, people who remember one's name and who ask one to dinner. But I +don't know that I shall have much time for cultivating acquaintanceships +in the way of society." + +"Why so? What are you going to London to do?" + +"To get a hearing, of course. To make the whole thing known. To show +that I was in the right, and that I only did what the honor of England +demanded. I trust to England." + +"What's England got to do with it? England is only so many men and women +and children all concerned in their own affairs, and not caring twopence +about you and me and our wrongs. Besides, who has accused you? Who has +found fault with you? Your time is out, and there's an end." + +"But they have dropped me down--they think to crush me." + +"If they do, it will be by severely letting you alone; and what can you +do against that? You can't quarrel with a man merely because he ceases +to invite you to dinner, and that's about the way of it." + +"I'll fight this out for all that." + +"You'll soon get tired of it. It's beating the air, you know. Of course, +if you want to annoy the Government, you could easily get some of us to +take up your case--no difficulty about that--and make you the hero of a +grievance and a debate, and so on." + +"I want nothing of the kind! I don't want any one to trouble himself +about me, and I don't care to be taken in hand by any one. If Englishmen +will not listen to a plain statement of right, why then----But I know +they will." + +The conviction itself was expressed in the tone of one who by its very +assertion protests against a rising doubt and tries to stifle it. + +"Very good," said the other. "Try it on. We shall soon see. I have a +sort of interest in the matter, for I had a grievance myself, and I have +still, only I went about things in a different way--looking for redress, +I mean." + +"What did you do?" + +"It's a longish story, and quite a different line from yours, and it +would bore you to hear, even if you understood it. I got into the House +and made myself a nuisance. I put money in my purse; it came in somehow. +I watch the department that I once belonged to with the eye of a lynx. +Well, I shall look out for you and give you a hand if I can, always +supposing it would annoy the Government--any Government--I don't care +what." + +Mr. Heron looked at him with wonder and incredulity. + +"Terrible lack of principle, you think? Not a bit of it; I'm a strong +politician; I stick to my side through thick and thin. But in their +management of departments, you know--contracts, and all +that--governments are all the same; the natural enemies of man. Well, I +hope to see you. I am going to have a sleep. Let me give you my +address--though in any case I think we are certain to meet." + +They parted with blunt expression of friendly inclination on the one +side and a doubtful, half-reluctant acknowledgment on the other. Heron +remained standing in his balcony looking at the changes of the moonlight +on the silent streets and thinking of his career and his grievance. + +The nearer he came to England the colder his hopes seemed to grow. Now +upon the threshold of the country he had so longed to reach, he was +inclined to linger and loiter and to put off his entrance. Everything +that was so easy and clear a few thousand miles off began to show itself +perplexed and difficult. "When shall I be there?" he used to ask himself +on his homeward journey. "What have I come for?" he began to ask himself +now. + +Times had indeed changed very suddenly with Victor Heron. He had come +into the active world perhaps rather prematurely. When very young, under +the guidance of an energetic and able father who had been an +administrator of some distinction in England's service among her +dependencies, he had made himself somewhat conspicuous in one of the +colonies; and when an opportunity occurred, after his father's death, of +offering him a considerable position, the Government appointed him to +the administration of a new settlement. It is hardly necessary for us to +go any deeper into the story of his grievance than he has already gone +himself in a few words. Except as an illustration of his character, we +have not much to do with the story of his career as an administrator. It +was a very small business altogether; a quarrel in a far off, lately +appropriated, and almost wholly insignificant scrap of England's +domains. Probably Mr. Heron was in the wrong, for he had been stimulated +wholly by a chivalrous enthusiasm for the honor of England's principles +and a keen sense of what he considered justice. The Government had +dealt very kindly with him in consideration of his youth and of his +father's services, and had merely dropped him down. + +This to a young man like Heron was simply killing with kindness. He +could have stood up stoutly against impeachment, trial, punishment, any +manner of exciting ordeal, and commanded his brave heart to bear it. But +to be quietly allowed to go his way was intolerable, and, being accused +of nothing, he was rushing back to England to insist on being accused of +something. A chief of any kind in a small dependency is a person of +overwhelming greatness and importance in his own sphere. Every eye there +is literally on him. He diffuses even a sort of impression as if he were +a good deal too large for his sphere, like the helmet of such portentous +size in the courtyard of Otranto. To come down all at once to be an +ordinary passenger to England, an ordinary "No. 257, au 3me" at the +Hotel du Louvre in Paris, an obscure personage getting out at the +Charing Cross station and calling a hansom, nobody caring whence he has +come, or capable, even after elaborate reminder, of calling to memory +his story, his grievance, or his identity--this is something to try the +soul of a patient man. Mr. Heron was not patient. + +He was a young Quixote out of time and place. He never could let +anything alone. He could not see a grievance without trying to set it +right. The impression that anybody was being wronged or cheated affected +and tormented him as keenly as a discordant note or an inharmonious +arrangement of colors might disturb persons of loftier artistic soul. In +the colonies queer old ideas survive long after they have died out of +England, and the traveller from the parent country comes often on some +ancient abstraction there as he might upon some old-fashioned garment. +Heron started into life with a full faith in the living reality of +divers abstractions which people in England have long since dissected, +analyzed, and thrown away. He believed in and spoke of progress, and +humanity, and brotherhood, and such like vaguenesses as if they were +real things to work for and love. People who regard abstractions as +realities are just the very persons who turn solid and commonplace +realities into shining and splendid abstractions. Young Heron regarded +England not as an island with a bad climate, where some millions of +florid men made money or worked for it, but as a sort of divine +influence inspiring youth to noble deeds and patriotic devotion. He was +of course the very man to get into a muddle when he had anything to do +with the administration of a new settlement. If the muddle had not lain +in his way, he would assuredly have found it. + +He had so much to do now on his further way home in helping elderly +ladies on that side who could not speak French, and on this side who +could not speak English; in seeing that persons whom he had never set +eyes on before were not neglected at buffets, left behind by trains, or +overcharged by waiters; in giving and asking information about +everything, that he had not much time to think about the St. Xavier's +settlements and his personal grievance. When the suburbs of London came +in sight, with their trim rows of stucco-fronted villas and cottages, +and their front gardens ornamented with the inevitable evergreens, a +thrill of enthusiasm came up in Heron's breast, and he became feverish +with anxiety to be in the heart of the great capital once again. Now he +began to see familiar spires, and domes, and towers, and then again +huge, unfamiliar roofs and buildings that were not there when he was in +London last, and that puzzled him with their presence. Then the train +crossed the river, and he had glimpses of the Thames, and Westminster +Palace, and the embankment with its bright garden patches and its little +trees, and he wondered at the ungenial creatures who see in London +nothing but ugliness. To him everything looked smiling, beautiful, alive +with hope and good omen. + +Certainly a railway station, an arrival, a hurried transaction, however +slight and formal, with a customs officer, are a damper on enthusiasm of +any kind. Heron began to feel dispirited. London looked hard and +prosaic. His grievance began to show signs of breaking out again amid +the hustling, the crowd, the luggage, and the exertion, as an old wound +might under similar circumstances, if one in his haste and eagerness +were to strain its hardly closed edges. + +It was when he was in a hansom driving to his hotel that Heron, putting +his hand in his waistcoat pocket, drew out a crumpled card which he had +thrust in there hastily and forgotten. The card bore the name of + + "MR. CROWDER E. MONEY, + Victoria street, + Westminster." + +Heron remembered his friend of Paris. "An odd name," he thought. "I have +heard it before somewhere. I like him. He seems a manly sort of fellow." + +Then he found himself wondering what Mr. Money's daughters were like, +and wishing he had observed them more closely in Paris, and asking +whether it was possible that girls could be pretty and interesting with +such an odd name. + + + + +DRIFT-WOOD. + + +THE SPINNING OF LITERATURE. + +"Of making many books there is no end," sighed a preacher in times when +industrious readers might presumably have kept the run of current +literature. Our advantage over Solomon is the utter hopelessness of +reading the new works, not to speak of standard acres in the libraries. +In this holiday season, chief hatching-time of books, it is pleasant to +see them flocking out in numbers so vast. "Germany published 11,315 +works of all classes in 1873, 12,070 in 1874, 12,516 in 1875." We rub +our hands over statistics like these, because they check any mad +ambition to master German contemporary literature; and besides, there +are "1,622 newspapers and periodical publications in the German empire." +As for the new works in our own tongue, the only way of getting through +them would obviously be to do as legislators do with the laws they +pass--"read them by title." + +Earlier ages, that had not reached this happy hopelessness, produced +great bookworms. When the old monks had devoured their convent +libraries, they were fain to pay vast sums occasionally for extra +reading, as St. Jerome did for the works of Origen; whereas now a +reviewer can only glance at his "complimentary copies" of new books, so +numerous are they. Bacon argued against abridgements, as if the body of +literature could be compassed in his day. A century or two ago there +were prodigious Porsons and Johnsons; but such gluttons are now rare. It +is true that Mill, between his fourth and eighth years, read in the +original all Herodotus and a good part of Xenophon, Lucian, Isocrates, +Diogenes Laertius, Plato, and the Annual Register, besides Hume, Gibbon, +Robertson, Miller, Mosheim, and other historians; while before the age +of thirteen he had mastered the whole of Homer, Virgil, Horace, Sallust, +Thucydides, Aristotle's Rhetoric and Logic, Tacitus, Juvenal, +Quinctilian, parts of Ovid, Terence, Nepos, Caesar, Livy, Lucretius, +Cicero, Polybius, and many other authors, besides learning geometry, +algebra, and the differential calculus. But that lad was crammed +scientifically like a Strasbourg goose; our ordinary modern writers are +not walking cyclopaedias, and are rarely prodigious readers. It is no +longer a reproach even for a man not to know all the literature of his +specialty; while, as for general reading, when the "Publisher's +Circular" tells us that the different books that mankind have made are +numbered by millions, we sit down in a most comfortable despair, and +pick to our liking. + +Thanks to modern fecundity, critics rarely molest authors with demands +for the _raison d'etre_ of a new book. The reviewer's question used to +be, "Why did the man publish? What need was there? What is he trying to +show?" One pontiff is said to have suggested burning up all the +different books in the world, except six thousand, so that the rest +might be read. There used to be pleas for condensations, as if people +were still fondly hoping to compass the realm of literature and science, +the blessed era of hopelessness having not yet dawned. But it is idle to +plead against diffuseness now, when writers are paid by the page or +line. "I want," said the editor of "La Situation" to Dumas, "a story +from you, entitled 'Terreur Prussienne a Francfort'--60 _feuilletons_ of +400 lines each; total, 84,000 lines." "And if it makes only 58?" +responded Dumas. "I require 60, of 400 lines each, averaging 31 letters +each line--744,000 letters." At noon of the day agreed upon, the +manuscript was in the hands of M. Hollander. If Sir Critic ever came +with foot-rule and condensing-pump to gravely detect diffusiveness in +the "Terreur Prussienne," it must have diverted the high contracting +parties. + +It is said that a dialogue of Dumas the elder created a revolution in +the French mode of paying romance literature. Dumas, who was reckoned by +the line, one day introduced, they say, into his _feuilleton_ this +thrilling passage: + + My son! + My mother! + Listen! + Speak! + Seest thou? + What? + This poniard! + It is stained-- + With blood! + Whose? + Thy father's. + Ah!!! + +After that Dumas was paid by the letter. To say sooth, the same +incident, with a different catastrophe, is related of Ponson Du Terrail, +who, one day, in his "Resurrection de Rocambole," filled about a column +with dialogue of this character: + + Who? + I. + You? + Yes. + He shuddered. + +Accordingly, as the story goes, the author being summoned before the +editor of the "Petit Journal," was notified that if this monosyllabic +chat went on, he would be paid by the word. "Very well," replied the +obliging novelist, "I will change my style;" and next day, M. Millaud +was astounded to find the _feuilleton_ introducing a pair of stammerers +talking in this agreeable fashion: + + "Wou-wou-would you de-de-de-deceive me, you wr-wr-wretch?" said + the old corsair in a tone of thunder. + + "I ne-ne-ne-never de-de-de-deceived an-an-an-anybody," + exclaimed Baccarat, imitating the other's defect in + pronunciation. + + "Wh-wh-wh-where is Ro-ro-rocam-bo-bole?" + + "You ne-ne-never will kn-know." + +"He will make all his characters stutter soon," said Millaud. "We had +better pay him by the line." Of course this is a story _faite a +plaisir_, as is also the one that as soon as Dumas made his first +contract by the line, enchanted with the arrangement, he invented dear +old Grimaud, who only opened his mouth to utter "yes," "no," "what?" +"ah!" "bah!" and other monosyllables; but when the editor, who knew the +cash price of "peuh" and "oh," declared he would only pay for lines half +full, Grimaud was slaughtered the next morning. However, these yarns +show that the French can satirize their jerky, staccato style of +_feuilleton_, with each sentence staked off in a paragraph by itself, +like some grimacing clown, who expects each particular joke or +handspring to be observed individually, and to be greeted with separate +applause. Across the channel we of course find the English journals +going to the other extreme, in insular pride, and packing distinct +subjects into the same paragraph. + +Greek and Roman Tuppers used, no doubt, to "reel off a couple of hundred +lines, standing on one foot;" but the veneering of a thin layer of ideas +upon a thick layer of words is naturally the special trait of our age of +cheap ink and paper, of steam printing, and of paying for writing by +long measure. The "Country Parson" is a favorite writer of this sort, +whose excellence is in "the art of putting things," rather than in +having many things to put. The essays of the "Spectator," "Guardian," +"Tatler," "Rambler," rarely gave only a pennyworth of wit to an +intolerable deal of words; but our modern periodical essay achieves +success by taking some such assertion as "Old maids are agreeable," or +"Old maids are disagreeable," and wire-drawing it into sundry yards of +readable matter. Macbeth's + + The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon! + Where got'st thou that goose-look? + +would supply a modern playwright with a square foot of gold-beaten +invective. "True poems," said Irving, "are caskets which enclose in a +small compass the wealth of the language--its family jewels." But when +poems are paid by the line, bards are pardonable for diffuseness. And +then, besides diffuseness, our age has wonderful literary fecundity. Few +people know how much painters paint, and how much great writers write; +for the bards of a single poem, as Mr. Stedman shows, are exceptional, +and rich quantity as well as rich quality is the usual rule for +greatness, whether of novelist, poet, essayist, metaphysician, or +historian. So here we come upon another source of the accumulated floods +of literature. The other day I was looking through a prodigious list of +the works of Alexandre Dumas, _pere_. There were 127 of them, mostly +novels--"Monte Christo," "Three Musketeers," "Bragelonne," and the rest +that we used to read. They made 244 volumes; but the plays were not +included, and many slighter miscellanies did not seem to be there; and +the posthumous work on cookery was certainly not there; and of course +there was no effort to collect everything from "Le Mois," "La Liberte," +and the half dozen other journals he edited or wrote in; so that I doubt +not the writings of this illustrious man, if ever brought together in a +complete edition, would make at least 150 works of 300 or 400 stout +volumes. And in English literature we have many Salas and Southworths. I +remember an announcement in the "Lancet" that "Mr. G. A. Sala is +completely restored to health, and in the full discharge of his +professional duties." An expressive term, that "full discharge"! + +Again, some popular authors employ apprentices to do the bulk of their +work, only touching it up with mannerisms, and so turn out much more +than if they wrought it all. The world, too, has now accumulated a +myriad handbooks of facts and compilations of statistics, which enable +writers with a fondness for theory, like Buckle, to have all their +material ready to spin into generalization. Then there is a popular +education toward prolixity in the telegraphic part of newspapers. The +associated press writers from Washington seem to be selected for their +inability to be terse and pithy, and dribble out the simplest fact with +pitiful iteration. The special news-writers, being often at their wits' +end for their dole of day's work, can hardly be asked to be laconic. The +special messages which the ocean wires bring, doubtless with exquisite +terseness and picturesqueness, are most carefully interwritten and +diluted; so that, for example, the words "Thiers spoke at Coulmiers" +become "M. Adolphe Thiers, president of the French Republic before the +accession of the present Chief Executive, Marshal MacMahon, delivered an +address, or rather made some remarks partly in the nature of an oration +or speech on subjects connected with matters of interest at the present +time, at the town of Coulmiers, which is situated"--and here follow a +dozen lines from the Cyclopaedia, but dated at Paris, giving the +geography, history, and commerce of Coulmiers. One can fancy in the +"Atlantic cable" columns of the "Morning Meteor" the tokens of a +standing prescription to dilute foreign facts with nine parts domestic +verbiage; and this kind of "editing" educates mankind to padding and +patching with superfluous material. + +It is harder for French writers to be prolix. The French writer is +inevitably epigrammatic first, and, if diffusive afterward, it is with +malice aforethought. If we compare, for example, publicists like Guizot +and Gladstone, while each has that perfect command of his material, +instead of letting the material command him, which marks the skilful +writer, yet the Englishman sometimes seems to require two or three +consecutive sentences to bring out his thought, whereas M. Guizot packs +it into one. But Guizot deliberately goes on to put the identical +statement into two or three paraphrased forms. For example, in the +"History of Civilization in Europe" there is usually a terse sentence or +two in each paragraph which contain the whole of it, packed into +briefest compass; were these key sentences repeated on the side of the +page as marginal notes, the reader could master the book by mastering +the margins. When an English writer is diffuse, he cannot help it; when +a French writer is diffuse, he effects it by sheer effort at repetition. + +And we humble hack scribblers, who confidingly slip our daily, and +weekly, and monthly mites into the vast mass of current reading turned +out for an omnivorous public--let us hope that the world's maw may long +remain unsated and the market unglutted. + + +GROWTH OF AMERICAN TASTE FOR ART. + +While to many it has seemed a pity that the Johnston gallery should be +broken up, yet this distribution of its treasures scatters the seeds of +art education. Besides, the prices obtained at the sale must impress +many wealthy men with a conviction valuable to the interests of art; +namely, that pictures, like diamonds, are a safe investment, as well as +a source of enjoyment and fame. Considering that the times are hard, and +that pictures are luxuries, the sum thus paid for art treasures, so soon +after the centennial purchases, is a proof of the number of good patrons +that can be counted on when works of value are for sale. But the works +must be of value. At a former auction in New York "old masters" brought +these prices: Madonna Del Correggio, $30; two Murrillos, $160 and $90; a +landscape of Salvator Rosa, $55; a Tintoretto, $115; a Guido, $35; "St. +John," by Sir Joshua Reynolds, $15--and so on. Every few months we find +a so-called Titian or Raphael going for the price of the frame. Such +auctions tell a story as emphatic as that of the Johnston gallery. + +When the German painters were considering whether they should send +canvases to the Centennial Exposition the "Allgemeine Zeitung" reminded +them "that their works bring twice as much in America as in Germany." +But each successive sale here shows that most buyers now know what is +worth getting and what is not, though naturally some painters are the +rage who will be forgotten fifty years hence. Still, the cynics are +wrong in decrying the eagerness to buy painters who are in fashion. What +harm in a millionaire's ordering a picture _d'ameublement_, to suit a +particular room or panel, or in his ordering from the bookseller a +hundred volumes of current novels? If the picture be good, whether +bought by the foot for furnishing or whether painted under the +microscope, its sale may aid the profession of art. + +Comparing the Johnston sale with some of the famous auctions of the past +four years at the hotel Drouot, we find that in the Paturle collection +twenty-eight canvases bought $90,000, being all works of masters. The +general prices were not higher than the Johnston prices, but Ary +Scheffer's Marguerites brought 40,000 and 35,000 francs; a Troyon, +63,000; and Leopold Robert's admirable "Fishers of the Adriatic," 83,000 +francs. The gallery of the Pereires brought 1,785,586 francs, which was +rather higher than the Johnston total, but I believe there were more +masterpieces. A head by Greuze brought 32,500 francs. The highest prices +seemed to be carried off by the Dutch painters, who were in force, and +three works by Hobbema, a country residence, a forest scene, and a +windmill, brought respectively 50,000, 81,000, and 30,000 francs. + +The prices for good pictures, taking into account agreeableness of +subject and state of preservation, seem to be much the same in New York +and Paris, though French newspapers fancy American taste for art to be +at barbarian pitch. They should learn otherwise from the American +painting and sculpture in Paris, London, Vienna, Florence, and Rome; +they might learn otherwise from the discriminating appreciation of their +own artists at such sales as Mr. Johnston's. The worst statuary as well +as by far the best at Philadelphia last year was Italian, and some of +the worst painting as well as the best was Spanish. There is some +monstrous governmental art, no doubt, with us, but as for popular taste, +there is nothing in America so vulgar as the cheap glass necklaces, tin +spangles, and painted trinkets on the sacred images in the churches of +Southern Europe. American travellers speak of the contrast between the +beautiful cathedral and its hideous painted images bedizened with trash +to which dollar-store jewels are gems of art; and the approaches to a +splendid church or castle are very likely bedecked with clumsy, +unvolatile angels, most terrestrial and unlovely. It is true that the +decoration of temples and the adoration of images, whether under heathen +or Christian auspices, has always fostered art; but American popular +taste, low as it is supposed to be, would hardly set up in churches +statues of painted wood only fit for tobacco shops. In Rome, where +American taste is looked down upon, they have annual shows of painted +wooden figures of saints and angels, in all hues, each uglier than the +other, to be sold for putting upon the altars as votive offerings. In +fact, wherever the "Latin race" is, the popular taste runs to blocks of +the Virgin and Child resembling the lay figures in a tailor's shop. + +The leading thought on this subject is that art has made greater strides +in the United States within the past twenty years than for the century +preceding. Twenty years ago there was comparatively no art public at +all. There were not a quarter part as many foreign pictures here as +to-day; there were not a fourth part as many American artists. The +department of American water colors has been substantially created +within ten years. The facilities for art education have been quadrupled +within the same period, and the wealthy who form galleries have +multiplied in like proportion. American progress in science and +mechanism, though so great, falls short of American progress in taste +and American productivity in the fine arts. + + PHILIP QUILIBET. + + + + +SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + + +PROTECTION FROM LIGHTNING. + +Prof. Clerk Maxwell says that the ordinary lightning rod is a great +mistake. It acts to discharge electricity from the clouds at all +possible opportunities, but these discharges are smaller than would +occur without the rod. The true method is to encase the building in a +network of rods, when it will take its charge quietly like a Leyden jar. +Taking the case of a powder mill, it would be sufficient to surround it +with a conducting material, to sheathe its roof, walls, and ground-floor +with thick sheet copper, and then no electrical effect could occur +within it on account of any thunderstorm outside. There would be no need +of any earth connection. We might even place a layer of asphalte between +the copper floor and the ground, so as to insulate the building. If the +mill were then struck with lightning, it would remain charged for some +time, and a person standing on the ground outside and touching the wall +might receive a shock, but no electrical effect would be perceived +inside, even on the most delicate electrometer. + +This sheathing with sheet copper is not necessary. It is quite +sufficient to enclose the building with a network of a good conducting +substance. For instance, if a copper wire, say No. 4, B. W. G. (0.238 +inches diameter), were carried round the foundation of the house, up +each of the corners and gables, and along the ridges, this would +probably be a sufficient protection for an ordinary building against any +thunderstorm in this climate. The copper wire may be built into the wall +to prevent theft, but should be connected to any outside metal, such as +lead or zinc on the roof, and to metal rain-water pipes. In the case of +a powder-mill it might be advisable to make the network closer by +carrying one or two additional wires over the roof and down the walls to +the wires at the foundations. If there are water or gas pipes which +enter the building from without, these must be connected with the system +of conducting wires; but if there are no such metallic connections with +distant points, it is not necessary to take any pains to facilitate the +escape of the electricity into the earth. But it is not advisable to put +up a tail pointed conductor. + + +STEAM MACHINERY AND PRIVATEERING. + +Mr. Barnaby, a prominent English naval constructor, has written a +memorandum on the British mercantile marine as an adjunct to the navy in +time of war. He points out that privateering has been made obsolete, not +merely by popular feeling, but also by the progress of the arts. A +privateer, he thinks, must be prepared to meet regular ships of war of +about the same strength. This the introduction of steam machinery has +made impossible. War ships are built for security, merchant steamers for +economical work, and the different objects have necessitated different +arrangements. In a word, the machinery of war ships is carefully +disposed below the water line, that of marine vessels is usually above +the water line. The latter would therefore be much more subject to +injury from shot than the other. This state of things excludes from +service as privateers all but the swiftest vessels, and Mr. Barnaby +thinks that the use of the merchant marine "would be confined to ships +that could save themselves by their speed if they met a ship of war, +whether armored or not," and that only those which can steam eleven and +a half or twelve knots an hour can be considered serviceable for +privateering. This limits the number of vessels available for this +service to 400 or 500, and the common idea that England can, in case of +war, "cover the sea" with her ships is proved to be untrue. Even these +vessels could not be used as privateers except against certain nations. +The Government would be compelled to buy them, and this would cost, he +estimates, a hundred to a hundred and fifty million dollars. This +addition to the regular fleet he thinks would enable England to "close +up every hostile port, and the slow steamers and the helpless sailing +ships might cross the seas in such security (privateering not being +admissible) that merchandise would be as safe in the English ship as in +the neutral." The fault in all this reasoning is that a ship of inferior +speed is certain to meet with a swifter antagonist, and therefore become +a capture. Our experience with the Confederate cruisers was that the +efforts of a very large navy may be eluded and defied for years, without +regard to the sailing qualities on either side. + + +MAN AND ANIMALS. + +The influence upon animals of their association with man formed the +subject of an interesting discussion in the British Association meeting. +Mr. Shaw read a paper "On the Mental Progress of Animals During the +Human Period," and Dr. Grierson mentioned an instance of intelligence +which had come under his own notice. Five years ago a barrel was put up +in his garden at the top of a high pole. The barrel was perforated with +holes and divided in the centre. In the course of two days two starlings +visited the barrel, and returned on the following day, and in about a +week afterward two pairs of starlings came and occupied it, and brought +up their young. They were very wild starlings, and readily took flight +when any person went near the barrel. In the second year four pairs of +starlings occupied the barrel, and they were much tamer than the +previous ones, and this last year there were a number of pairs of +starlings so tame that they would almost allow him to take hold of them. +They had now changed their mode of speaking, for the starlings in his +garden frequently articulated words. + + +THE LIMBS OF WHALES. + +Whales have rudimentary limbs, and Prof. Struthers concludes that such +muscles existed in the whale-bone whales, but in ordinary teethed whales +they were merely represented by fibrous tissue. These muscles existing +in the true bottle-nosed whale had a special interest, as the teeth in +that whale were rudimentary and functionless. He had found these muscles +in the forearms of whales largely mixed with fibrous tissue, so the +transition was easy. Prof. MacAlister of Dublin thinks that whales were +not of very ancient origin, for the existence of the rudimentary limbs +tends to show that a sufficient length of time has not elapsed since the +use of the limb was essential to the earlier animal to produce its +complete obliteration. + + +OUR EDUCATIONAL STANDING. + +The advance which this country has made in educational facilities of all +grades within its hundred years of life was summarized as follows by +Prof. Phelps, President of the National Educational Association: + +"Prior to 1776 but nine colleges had been established, and not more than +five were really efficient. Now there are more than 400 colleges and +universities, with nearly 57,000 students, and 3,700 professors and +teachers. Then little was done for the higher education of women. Now +there are 209 female seminaries, 23,445 students, and 2,285 teachers. +There are also 322 professional schools of various classes, excluding +23,280 students and 2,490 instructors. Then normal schools had no +existence. Now there are 124, with 24,405 students and 966 instructors. +There were then no commercial colleges. Now 127 are in operation, with +25,892 students and 577 teachers. Then secondary and preparatory schools +had scarcely a name by which to live. Now 1,122 are said to exist, +affording instruction to 100,593 pupils, and giving employment to 6,163 +teachers. The kindergarten is a very recent importation. In 1874 we were +blessed with 55 of these human nurseries, with 1,636 pupils and 125 +teachers. Now 37 States and 11 Territories report an aggregate of more +than 13,000,000 school population, or more than four times the total +population of the country in 1776. Then the school enrollment was of +course unknown. Now it amounts to the respectable figure of about +8,500,000. Then the schools were scattered and their number +correspondingly restricted. Now they are estimated at 150,000, employing +250,000 teachers. The total income of the public schools is given at +$82,000,000, their expenditures at $75,000,000, and the value of their +property at $165,000,000. The number of illiterates by the census of +1870 above the age of ten years, in round numbers, was 5,500,000. Of +these more than 2,000,000 were adults, upward of 2,000,000 more were +from fifteen to twenty-one years of age, and 1,000,000 were between ten +and fifteen years. Of the number between fifteen and twenty-one years it +is estimated that about one-half have passed the opportunity for +education." + + +SURFACE MARKINGS. + +Mr. James Croll, in a letter to "Nature" (July 13, 1876), incidentally +mentions the lessons that may be derived from the configurations of the +earth's surface. + + "Given the hardly perceptible wearing of water and time, a + canyon a mile deep, and many hundreds of miles long, has + resulted from the flowing of a stream. Given glacial 'abrasion' + and time enough, then valleys of rounded section and firths and + lake-basins of a particular kind probably resulted from the + flowing of ice. + + "Where a stream flows from source to mouth on a gradual slope, + there has been no great disturbance of level since the stream + began to work. Where ice fills the dales there are no canyons. + Where ice has filled dales and has left fresh marks, canyons are + short and small. In mountain regions, where ice-marks are rare + or absent, canyons are of great depth and length, apparently + because their streams have flowed in the same channels ever + since the mountains were raised. But where canyons are marked + features, these lakes, firths, and dales of rounded section are + very rare, or do not exist. It seems therefore that hollows + which have, in fact, been carved out of the earth's surface may + be known for water-work or for ice-work by their shape, and + that firths, dales, and lakes may mark the sites of local + glacial periods; and canyons the sites of climates that have not + been glacial since the streams began to flow." + + +THE OLDEST STONE TOOLS. + +One of the problems which geologists now propose to themselves is to +ascertain definitely whether the existence of man before the close of +the glacial epoch can be certainly proved. The method of proof consists +in the examination of formations older than those of that epoch, in the +hope of finding in them bones or implements of human origin. Mr. S. B. +J. Skertchly thinks he has done this. In the valley sides around the +town of Brandon, in England, "are preserved patches of brick-earth, +which are valuable as affording the only workable clay in the district. +Whenever these beds are well exposed they are seen to underlie the +chalky boulder-clay of glacial age. Of this there cannot be the +slightest doubt, for the glacial bed is typically developed and not in +the slightest degree reconstructed. In these beds I have been so +fortunate as to find palaeolithic implements in two places; and in one of +them quantities of broken bones and a few fresh-water shells. The +implements are of the oval type, boldly chipped, but without any of the +finer work which distinguishes the better made palaeolithic implements. +Although it would be rash to lay too great a stress upon the characters +of these implements, it is nevertheless worthy of remark that they do +belong to the crudest type. Equally rough specimens are found in the +gravels above the boulder-clay, and even among neolithic finds. Still +these very antique implements certainly do seem to belong to an earlier +stage of civilization, if we regard them as examples of the best +workmanship of their makers." These, he thinks, are the oldest specimens +of man's handiwork known, and prove him to have lived before the +culmination of the glacial epoch. + + +ORIGIN OF THE SPANISH PEOPLE. + +An anthropologist, M. Turbino, has written a paper on the relations of +the people who inhabit Spain and Portugal, from which it appears that +those civilized races present a heterogeneity that reminds us forcibly +of the condition in which the savage tribes of America were at the time +of the discovery, and indeed are still. There is found in the Spanish +races no unity of origin or of physique. There is not only +dissimilarity, but also antithesis and opposition. M. Turbino endeavored +to show that the same diversity existed in the region of morals, in +language, in art, and in the ideas of right and law, and that thus there +is really no Spanish race and no means of establishing in the Iberian +Peninsula a centralized state. + +Broca, in discussing these facts, asserted that the same state of things +exists everywhere; that the idea of race as applied to the people of +the present political divisions is untrue. The only great barriers of +states are their geographical limits. + + +THE ENGLISH METEORITE. + +Prof. Maskelyne, of the British Museum, seems to be particularly +gratified by the fall of a metallic meteorite in England. He says: + + "It is, indeed, an iron meteorite, and the special interest of + this statement lies in the fact that, though our great + collection of 311 distinct meteorites at the Museum contains + 104 indubitable iron meteorites, the falls of only seven of the + latter were witnessed. The collection contains eight stony + meteorites that have fallen in the British Islands; but the + Rowton meteorite is only the second iron meteorite known as + having been found in Great Britain." + +It weighs seven and three-quarter pounds, is angular in shape, and he +supposes that it is but the fragment of a much larger aerolite, since +one loud explosion was heard and rumbling sounds, which may have denoted +others, were heard before it fell. + + +THE BOOMERANG. + +Mr. A. W. Howitt, after many years' observation in Australia, reports +that the boomerang, though a singular, is not the marvellous instrument +which we are told of in some books of travel; especially does he deny it +the power of continuing its flight after striking its object, and also +the power of returning with exact aim to the thrower's hand. That might +be in an instrument which was made with theoretical perfectness, but as +it is the return flight is very wild. He had a trial made by several +natives, one of them a boomerang thrower of great skill. The ground was +good, and the only drawback was a light sea breeze. He found that the +throws could be placed in two classes, one in which the boomerang was +held when thrown in a plane perpendicular to the horizon, the other in +which one plane of the boomerang was inclined to the left of the +thrower. + +In the first method of throwing the missile proceeded, revolving with +great velocity, in a perpendicular plane for say one hundred yards, when +it became inclined to the left, travelling from right to left. It then +circled upward, the plane in which it revolved indicating a cone, the +apex of which would lie some distance in front of the thrower. "When the +boomerang in travelling passed round to a point above and somewhat to +the right of the thrower, and perhaps one hundred feet above the ground, +it appeared to become stationary for a moment; I can only use the term +_hovering_ to describe it. It then commenced to descend, still revolving +in the same direction, but the curve followed was reversed, the +boomerang travelling from left to right, and, the speed rapidly +increasing, it flew far to the rear. At high speed a sharp whistling +noise could be heard. In the second method, which was shown by 'bungil +wunkun,' and elicited admiring ejaculations of 'ko-ki' from the black +fellows, the boomerang was thrown in a plane considerably inclined to +the left. It there flew forward for say the same distance as before, +gradually curving upward, when it seemed to 'soar' up--this is the best +term--just as a bird may be seen to circle upward with extended wings. +The boomerang of course was all this time revolving rapidly. It is +difficult to estimate the height to which it soared, making, I think, +two gyrations; but judging from the height of neighboring trees on the +river bank, which it surmounted, it may have reached one hundred and +fifty feet. It then soared round and round in a decreasing spiral, and +fell about one hundred yards in front of the thrower. This was performed +several times. The descending curve passed the thrower, I think, three +times. + + "Another method of throwing was mentioned; namely, to throw the + boomerang in such a manner that it would strike the ground with + its flat side some distance in front of the thrower. It would + then rise upward in a spiral, returning in the same. This was + not attempted, as it was decided the boomerang was not strong + enough. A final throw in a vertical plane, so that the missile + struck the ground violently fifty or sixty yards in advance, + terminated the display. It ricocheted three times with a + twanging noise and split along the centre. My black friends + said they should soon manufacture a number of the best + constructed 'wunken' to show me. I observed that the spectators + stood about a hundred yards on one side of the thrower, and + when the boomerang in its gyrations approached us, every black + fellow had his eyes sharply fixed on it. The fact stated by + them that it was dangerous was well shown in one instance, + where it suddenly wheeled and flew so close over us that I and + Toolabar fell over each other in dodging it." + + +A WESTERN LAVA FIELD. + +Lieutenant Ruffner describes one of the great lava outflows in the West +in a way that serves to set before the reader the magnitude of the +eruptions which have made America _par excellence_ the volcanic +continent. It is in New Mexico. + +From the Conejos river, in Colorado, one continuous sheet of lava covers +the face of the country to the south, for eighty miles unbroken; and +then for fifty miles further is now exhibited in outlying areas and +detached masses, separated from the main body by the exercise of the +power of erosion through prolonged ages. One hundred and thirty miles in +length, and perhaps thirty in breadth at its widest, the area of a +principality lies swallowed up for ever. From craters existing probably +in the San Antonio mountain and in the Ute Peak, near the boundary of +Colorado, and possibly from other centres, this flood poured over the +land. Reaching to the east, it was checked by the mountains of the +Sangre de Cristo range; flowing to the west, the mountains and hills of +the main divide, and the spur now between the Chama and the Rio Grande, +limited its extent. To the south it was deflected westwardly by the spur +of the mountains called the Picuris range, some fifteen miles south of +Taos. Protected by this spur, we find the east bank of the Rio Grande +for many miles free from the flux. Confined on the west by the slopes of +the Jemez mountains, the breadth of the field is narrowed. But from the +village of San Ildefonso to Pena Blanca, we find the lava on both sides +of the Rio Grande, spreading to the east as far as the Santa Fe creek. +Secondary centres in the Jemez mountains possibly contributed to this +extension, but the main force of the eruptions was probably felt further +to the north. However, in this vicinity the edges and extremity of the +field have been reached, and there has been so much erosion in places +since its deposition, that outlying masses, as in the bluffs to the west +of San Felipe, alone remain. Throughout the whole region thus depicted, +the lava field is the great and controlling element. The streams that +have eaten their way through it with untold difficulty are found in +narrow and deep canyons having no land for cultivation. A dangerous feat +for man to descend these precipices, the passage by an animal of burden +is almost impossible. The Rio Grande passes for eighty miles or more +through its black abyss, with walls of seven or eight hundred feet in +height, crowned with perpendicular cliffs of solid lava, two and three +hundred feet high. Throughout the whole region there is no agriculture. + + +THE PRINCIPLE OF CEPHALIZATION. + +In the last of a series of papers on cephalization (or brain +development) as a fundamental principle in the development of the system +of animal life, Prof. Dana says ("American Journal," October, 1876): "I +would refer to the case among mammals for an illustration of the +principle that the lowest forms are those having their locomotive +functions located in the posterior parts of the body; and that in the +higher the forces, or force organs, are more and more forward in the +structure. For example, in the whale the tail is the propelling organ, +and is of enormous power and magnitude, and the brain is very small, and +is situated far from the head extremity in a great mass of flesh and +bone furnished with poor organs of sense; a grade up, in the horse or +ox, the tail or posterior extremity is no longer an organ of locomotion, +and is little more than a caudal whip lash, and locomotion is performed +by organs situated more anteriorly, the legs, and a well-formed head +carries a brain which is a vastly higher organ of intelligence than that +of the whale, but the legs are simply organs of locomotion, and the +hinder are the more powerful; and higher up, in the tiger or cat, the +fore legs--not the hind legs--are the organs of chief muscular force, +and these have higher functions than that of simple locomotion, and +further, the body is proportionately shortened, and the head is +shortened anteriorly, or in the jaws, and approximates thus toward the +condition of man. The existence or not of a switch-like tail, as in +ordinary quadrupeds, has little bearing on the question of the degree of +cephalization, since the organ is not an organ of locomotion, or one +indicating a large posterior development of muscular bone. But, +approaching man in the system of life, even this seems to have +significance." + + +CURIOSITIES OF THE HERRING FISHERY. + +The hot weather last summer affected even the herring fishery. The +fishermen off the Scotch coast had been supplied with sea thermometers +by the Scottish Meteorological Society, and they found that during one +week, when the sea water showed a temperature of 58 deg. to 59 deg., no +fish were caught. But when the temperature fell to 55 deg. the herring +were caught in great abundance. Indeed, they flocked to the land in such +numbers that many nets were taken to the bottom with their weight, and +the fishermen lost considerable sums from this odd mishap. The action of +the Meteorological has produced important results. The entirely new +discovery has been made that the herring love cold water, and in seasons +when the temperature of the sea water rises, they keep away from the +land, in deeper water, between the fifteen to eighteen fathoms for which +the nets are calculated. The colder the weather the greater is the take +of fish; 1875, a year when the water was considerably and continuously +warmer than 1874, having been a poor year, while the latter was a better +one. This action of the fish makes it probable that it likes a given +range of temperature, neither too high nor too low. In cold water this +belt of agreeable temperature is found nearer the sun-warmed surface, +and the fish creep inshore. Many singular facts relating to this fishery +are known. If a thunderstorm occurs, the fishermen expect a good catch +on that day, but the next day they will get none except in deep water, +and the supposition is that the fish are leaving the land. The herring +has a strong sense of locality, always returning to the same ground. +Experienced dealers can tell by inspection in just what sea or loch a +given lot of fish were caught. + + +NATURAL GAS IN FURNACES. + +A paper describing the use of natural gas in the puddling furnaces at +Leechburg, Pa., was presented by Mr. A. L. Holley to the American +Institute of Mining Engineers. This well is about twenty miles northeast +of Pittsburg, on one of the side tributaries of the Alleghany river. It +had been drilled in search of oil to a depth of 1,250 feet in 1871, but +none was found. A great flow of gas was developed, however, accompanied +by a slight spray of salt water, and this has continued with little or +no diminution to the present time. The gas in its escape has been +discharged through a five-inch pipe, and at a pressure of from sixty to +eighty pounds per square inch. The rolling mill of Messrs. Roger & +Burchfield is on the opposite side of the river, and it has been for +some years devoted to the production of fine grades of sheet iron from +charcoal pig metal, by puddling and in knobbling fires. The usual weekly +product of the mill has been thirty tons of No. 3 tin plates and fifty +tons of No. 24 to twenty-eight sheets. + +The well was bought by this firm for $1,000, and the gas is led across +the river, a distance of 500 feet, through a three-inch pipe. It is +distributed through half-inch pipes, and at a pressure of about +forty-five pounds per square inch, to several of the furnaces. No +essential alteration in any of the furnaces has been found necessary in +the use of the gas fuel, except to brick up the fire bridge and to put +in the gas and air pipes. The old grate used for coal is loosely covered +with bricks and cinder, so that a slight percolation of air may take +place through them. The gas is admitted through a half-inch pipe, and +blows toward the fire-bridge through eighteen or twenty one-eighth inch +jets. The air is blown in, at about 2 lbs. pressure, through two one and +one-eighth-inch jets, obliquely down upon the centre of the hearth, and +a very perfect combustion is obtained. A great improvement is effected +in the quality of the product of the puddling furnaces by the combined +action of the gas and air blast. The air is blown in during the melting, +but it is then shut off until the boiling begins. It is then turned on +full, and a violent boiling action is maintained without any rabbling. +Many advantages result from the use of this fuel. The product of the +mill has increased about thirty per cent., from sixty to seventy tons of +coal are saved daily, besides the labor necessary to fire with it, and a +poorer quality of iron can be used in making the tin plate. Thus the +iron now used is credited to the furnace at $45 per ton, while charcoal +blooms have cost $80. These are certainly enormous advantages, and +though every mill cannot have a permanent gas well, it must be more +economical to produce such results by making coal into gas than to +continue using it in the solid form. The gas at Leechburg is used in +fourteen furnaces and under seven boilers. Its composition is carbonic +acid, 0.35; carbonic oxide, 0.26; illuminating hydrocarbons, 0.56; +hydrogen, 4.79; marsh gas, C H_{4}, 89.65; ethyl hydride, C_{2} H_{6}, +4.39; specific gravity, 0.558. This analysis shows about 57 per cent. of +carbon and 42 per cent. of hydrogen. If the well discharges one million +cubic feet of gas daily, it would weigh about sixty tons, yielding +thirty-nine tons of carbon. Mr. Holley calculates that it equals about +150 tons of bituminous coal, such as is found in the Pittsburg region. + + +SOUTH CAROLINA PHOSPHATES. + +In England the favorite source of phosphates of lime is the "Cambridge +coprolites." These are small, hard, gray nodules, obtained by washing a +stratum, of about one foot in thickness, lying in the upper greensand +formation in Cambridgeshire. Similar coprolites are found and mined in +other districts of England, but they are of inferior quality, containing +more oxide of iron and alumina. These give the tribasic phosphate of +lime, which results from the application of sulphuric acid to the +nodules, a tendency to "go back" to the insoluble condition. French +nodules are of inferior quality from another cause. They contain very +much silica, sometimes even forty per cent. The Cambridge coprolites are +so much esteemed that buyers of artificial manure often stipulate that +it shall be made from them. As a consequence the privilege of mining the +ground is costly, sometimes as much as $1,500 an acre being paid. The +yield is about three hundred tons to the acre. An English chemist +reports that the South Carolina phosphate, made in factories situated in +and near Charleston, ranks next in value to this Cambridge product. It +contains 54 per cent. of tribasic phosphate of lime, 14 per cent. of +carbonate of lime, 3-1/2 per cent. of iron oxide and alumina, 2-1/2 per +cent. of fluoride of calcium, and 15 per cent. of silica. It consists of +bone fragments derived from animal species which are now extinct. These +bones have accumulated in old river beds, and the mining operations are +compelled to follow the sinuosities of these streams. Though a supply +derived from such sources is necessarily limited, the quantity known to +be available is very great, and has been estimated to last a century +with a yearly extraction of 50,000 tons. In addition to the river +phosphate is a lighter deposit, occurring in a stratum of sand and clay +about two feet thick; but this is not so valuable, though it is softer +and easier ground. The river deposit is nearly black, and when ground +makes a very dark powder. It is a great favorite, and in some respects +the finest natural source of phosphatic manure in the world. + + +RARE METALS FROM OLD COINS. + +The operations of the Government assay office in Frankfort during the +last year have developed the fact that gold, platinum, palladium, and +selenium are found in old silver coins and also in ores which were +formerly supposed to be nearly pure sulphides and oxides of lead and +silver. From 400,000 pounds of silver and 5,000 pounds of gold were +obtained twelve pounds of platinum, two pounds of palladium, and several +pounds of selenium. To obtain these the gold is first precipitated from +the solution by ferrous chloride, all the other metals by iron turnings. +The precipitate is first submitted to the action of ferric chloride to +dissolve the copper, and the residue is fused with charcoal and soda to +separate the selenium. The regulus from this operation is dissolved, and +a compound of selenium and palladium, or of these with platinum, is +obtained. They are composed of equal atoms of the two metals and form +hard brilliant plates. The presence of these metals in coins is less +remarkable than in such ores as those of Commern and Mechernich on the +west bank of the Rhine. These ores occur as small granules of galena in +a soft sandstone, their origin being still a mooted point. The ore +yields a very soft and pure lead, though the presence of pyrite prevents +the manufacture of the virgin lead used in making the best brands of +white paint. + + +A FRENCH MOUNTAIN WEATHER STATION. + +The French government has placed on the top of the Puy de Dome a +meteorological observatory, which, as that is the highest land in +France, answers to our stations on Mt. Washington and Pike's Peak. It +is, however, constructed in a style very different from those somewhat +forbidding abodes. At the top is an observatory tower, placed on a +platform, and upon this is placed the anemometer, especially constructed +to withstand the force of the storms. Within the tower is a well hole +fifty feet deep, which leads to a tunnel more than a hundred feet long, +at the end of which is placed the keeper's house. This is a massive +building, situated a short distance from the top, where it is partly +protected by rocks. The whole work cost $45,000, and $20,000 more will +be spent in supplying it with apparatus. + + +MIGRATION OF THE LEMMING. + +A new theory has been broached to explain the migrations of the Norway +lemming, a variety of field mouse. Every few years an immense body of +these animals leaves their habitat and proceed westward, attacking every +obstacle in front in preference to flanking it, until it reaches the +sea, which the little animals boldly enter, only to perish there. No +conceivable advantage to the lemming is known to have ever resulted from +these long and arduous marches. The losses in swimming large rivers, +from fire, the attacks of predatory animals, hunger, and fatigue, are so +great that but few reach the sea, and the remnant always perish there. +Mr. W. Duppa Crotch, who has studied the habits of these animals for ten +years, now suggests that they are moved by an hereditary instinct, and +that their prehistoric home was some country west of Sweden, and now +covered by the Atlantic. The same kind of reasoning would allot an +Atlantic origin to the progenitors of the grasshoppers, which have been +such plagues in this country for a few years, for, as stated in the +August "Galaxy," those which moved eastward in 1875 did not halt until +they perished on the ocean beach or in its waves. Mr. Crotch has thrown +new light on some of the habits of the lemming. According to him, says +"Nature," the migration is not all completed in one year, as formerly +supposed, nor do they, as stated, form processions and cut their way +through obstacles; but, breeding several times in the season, they +gather in batches, and at intervals make a move westward. Their +pugnacity, he states, is astonishing, and the approach of any animal, or +even the shadow of a cloud, arouses the anger of this small creature +like a guinea pig, and they back against a stone or rock uttering shrill +defiance. Our author found, in most examples, a bare patch on the rump, +due to their rubbing against the said buttress of support when at bay. +He wonders why a bare patch, and not a callosity, should not result from +this innate, apparently hereditary habit. + + +NEW DISCOVERY OF NEOLITHIC REMAINS. + +A very interesting discovery of human remains has been made in a cave in +Cravanch, about two miles northwest of Belfort, France. Some workmen, +excavating in a quarry of Jurassic limestone, found the opening to the +cave, the bottom of which was covered with stalagmites, while there were +no corresponding stalactites hanging from the roof. Some of these +calcareous columns appear to be artificial piles covered with the +limestone sheeting. Between them, and also covered with stalagmite, were +a quantity of human skeletons, with the skulls raised above the rest of +the bodies. A number of weapons and implements, together with a mat of +plaited meshes, have been found, all belonging to the polished stone +period. It is thought that careful search may uncover remains of an +earlier date. The cave is quite large, a hundred feet long and forty +wide and high. It was at once taken possession of by the authorities and +placed under the charge of Mr. Felix Voulot, who hopes to extract at +least one skeleton entire. + + +OCTOBER WEATHER. + +The most noticeable features of the month are: the hurricane of the 17th +to 23d; lower temperatures in the districts east of the Rocky mountains; +large excess of rainfall in some districts and large deficiencies in +others; low water in the rivers. + +_Areas of High Pressure._--These have generally appeared in the Upper +Missouri valley, from whence their movements have been south and +eastward across the country. Their advance has been frequently marked by +high northerly winds and gales, especially when preceded by decidedly +low-pressure areas, in the more northern districts and on the Texas +coast. When rainy weather has preceded them, the fall in the temperature +has been sufficient to turn the rain into sleet and snow, while frequent +and heavy frosts have been produced. + +_Areas of Low Pressure._--Nine have been traced. Excepting the hurricane +of the 17th to 23d, the centres of all have moved over the northern +sections, and further northward than during previous Octobers. They have +been frequently accompanied by barometric troughs, extending south or +southwestward toward the Gulf, in which rainy weather and high winds or +gales have prevailed. + +_Temperatures._-- + + _Maximum._ _Minimum._ + +Albany 70 deg. 23 deg. +Boston 70 " 26 " +Buffalo 73 " 24 " +Cape May 73 " 34 " +Chicago 73 " 28 " +Cincinnati 74 " 29 " +Cleveland 75 " 26 " +Detroit 72 " 24 " +Duluth 67 " 23 " +Jacksonville 85 " 43 " +Marquette 73 " 28 " +Mt. Washington 48 " 5 " +New Orleans 84 " 50 " +New York 73 " 31 " +Pike's Peak 41 " -2 " +Philadelphia 75 " 31 " +San Diego 80 " 48 " +San Francisco 72 " 52 " +Washington 78 " 30 " + +The first frost of the season is reported from a large number of +stations, and first snow from about twenty. + +_Verifications._--The average is 92.8 per cent. for the weather; 90.1, +wind direction; 91.1, temperature; 87.7, barometric changes. For the +whole country the average verified is 90.4 per cent. There were four +omissions to predict out of 3,720, or 0.1 percent. + +A severe earthquake shock was felt at San Francisco at 9:20 p.m., on the +6th, lasting ten seconds; motion from northwest to southeast. A second +and lighter shock was felt the same day. + + +FRENCH NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES. + +Probably few American travellers visit a collection of antiquities, +infinitely older than the paintings, statues, and relics of mediaeval +life, or even than those of Roman and Grecian age, but which is as +freely open to them, near Paris. This is the museum which has been +established in the chateau of Saint Germain. France has been +particularly fortunate in rescuing fragments of the life which existed +within her borders long before the day of the very earliest races to +which history points us. These fragments have sometimes been preserved +in the most fortuitous manner, and afford unique illustrations of the +remarkable accidents to which man is occasionally indebted for his +knowledge. The fossil man of Denyse, whatever his age may have been, has +been preserved for our inspection by becoming overwhelmed in a volcanic +eruption. The skeleton of Mentone was found by Riviere while engaged in +a systematic search among French caves. Other caves in France have +preserved evidences sufficiently distinct for us to gain valuable hints +of ancient life. In fact all the ages of man, so far as they are +recognized, and all the kinds of proof concerning them, are well +represented in French collections. During the reign of the late Emperor +this museum was founded, and has received the case of many noted French +_savants_ who have won distinction in this field of research. The walls +are covered by finely painted maps illustrating the distribution of +caves, and rock shelters, and places where instruments of stone, bone, +and bronze have been found. Pictures are also exhibited which illustrate +the views of former social customs which are thought to be supported by +the material evidences assembled in the chateau. In the cases are not +only large collections of celts, but also the carved bones, horn, and +stones which, by their distribution through the stalagmite of caves, or +through the gravel of ancient river beds, give infallible proof of the +presence of man. One floor contains a collection not less interesting, +though illustrating the manners of a much later age. It is formed of the +military weapons, bridges, fortifications, camps, etc., which were +constructed to illustrate the "life of Caesar," by Napoleon. This +collection is, and will probably remain, unique. At the meeting of the +Geographical Congress last year, these great engines of war were taken +to the park and exhibited in action. The museum is now placed under the +control of the historical commission for constructing the map of Gaul. +This body is publishing a series of maps and engravings to illustrate +the progress of the science of the prehistoric and subsequent periods. A +catalogue of the collections has been made and is sold to visitors. +There is also in the establishment a special library in which has been +collected by M. Gabriel de Mortillet all the books relating to +prehistoric antiquities, and which is open free on certain days to the +public. + + * * * * * + +It is found that insects preserve their colors better under yellow glass +than in any other color. The curtains of entomological show-cases and +the blinds of the room should be yellow. Only in this way can the +delicate carmine tints of some insect wings be preserved. + + +A student of animal nature announces a case of two hens, who by joint +efforts hatched one chick. They have since, for some weeks, been +parading the yard, each clucking and manifesting all the anxiety and +care of a true mother over this one. The hens never quarrel, or show the +least appearance of jealousy or rivalry. + + +M. Tresca, who has charge of the Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers, the +institution which in Paris answers to our Patent Office, says that +drawings of new inventions are more useful than models, are cheaper, and +are very much oftener consulted. In Paris the model room is covered with +dust and rarely entered. + + +The French weather bureau intends not only to study the thunderstorm, +hailstorm, rainfall, inundations, and frosts, with especial reference to +their effects upon agriculture, but also to experiment upon the +asserted effect of smoke as a preventive to frost. The experiments will +be extensive and may cover a large valley. + + +To discover by the spectroscope the smallest quantity of a gaseous or +very volatile hydrocarbon, the Messrs. Negri introduce a small quantity +of the gaseous mixture into a tube. This mixture should not contain +oxygen, carbonic oxide, or carbonic acid; and the pressure is to be +reduced to not more than twenty millimetres. Then if a hydrocarbon is +present, the passage of a spark from a Ruhmkorff's coil will cause the +appearance of a sky-blue light. Viewed with the spectroscope, this +presents the spectrum of carbon, and generally so brilliant as to mask +totally the spectra of other gases present. + + +The rare metals cerium, lauthanum, and didymium have been lately +investigated by Drs. Hillebrand and Norton, in Bunsen's laboratory. +Cerium looks like iron, having both its color and lustre, but is +heavier, and has the hardness of calcite. It tarnishes slowly in dry air +and rapidly in moist air. It ignites so readily that pieces scratched +off inflame, and its wire burns more brilliantly than magnesium wire. +Lauthanum is a little harder, but also a little lighter. It tarnishes +more easily and inflames less easily than cerium. Didymium resembles +lauthanum. The metals were all obtained by electrolysis of the +chlorides. + + +It is stated that a week's work in Birmingham comprises, among its +various results, the fabrication of 14,000,000 pens, 6,000 bedsteads, +7,000 guns, 300,000,000 cut nails, 100,000,000 buttons, 1,000 saddles, +5,000,000 copper or bronze coins, 20,000 pairs of spectacles, six tons +of papier mache wares, over L30,000 worth of jewelry, 4,000 miles of +iron and steel wire, ten tons of pins, five tons of hairpins and hooks +and eyes, 130,000 gross of wood screws, 500 tons of nuts and screw bolts +and spikes, fifty tons of wrought iron hinges, 350 miles' length of wax +for vestas, forty tons of refined metal, forty tons of German silver, +1,000 dozens of fenders, 3,500 bellows, 800 tons of brass and copper +wares--these, with a multitude of other articles, being exported to +almost all parts of the civilized world. + + +The aerated beverages of which Americans are so fond should not be kept +in copper vessels, for carbonic acid (which is the gas present) +dissolves this metal with great avidity. From three-hundredths to +one-tenth of a grain of copper per gallon has been found in aerated +lemonade, ginger ale, soda water, etc. + + +In making the ultimate analysis of organic compounds by combustion, with +lead chromate and metallic copper reduced by hydrogen, the results +obtained are too high, on account of the expulsion of hydrogen, which +had been occluded by the copper. Heating the copper to 150 deg. C. does +not prevent the error, which may be .05 per cent. + + +Mayer & Walkoff, who have been experimenting on the respiration of +plants, find that the action goes on both in light and darkness, and +that changes of temperature within normal limits have little effect. +There is no direct relation between growth in length and respiration, a +conclusion that is in conflict with that of previous experiments. + + +The famous "Blue Grotto" in the island of Capri, Italy, has been +investigated spectroscopically. Most of the light enters through the +water, which absorbs the red rays entirely and so much of the yellow as +to make the D line scarcely visible. The green, blue, and indigo rays +are very bright, and the F and _b_ lines unite in a well marked +absorption line. + + +The springs of Weissenburg in the Bernese Oberland yield a water which +is popularly supposed to have the power of cicatrizing cavities in the +lungs, but its analysis shows no reason for such a power. Sulphates of +lime and magnesia are its principal solid ingredients, with chloride and +a little iodide of lithium and an organic compound having the odor of +blackberries. + + +The mountains about Innsbruck in the Tyrol, as well as other parts of +the Alps, present the singular phenomenon of a climate more moderate at +a considerable elevation than in the valleys. Prof. Kerner finds that +there is a warm region midway up the mountain, lying between two colder +zones above and below it. We have heretofore referred to a similar +phenomenon in Indiana. + + +It is remarked by anthropologists that differences of color are one of +the most marked signs of race. The Aryan word for caste is _Varanum_, +meaning color, and the Aryans are supposed to have used it to +distinguish themselves from the Dasyuf, with whom they came in contact +on crossing the Indus, when migrating from Central Asia. The first +migrating wave from that centre of human creation can no longer be +traced, and only its remnants are found among the most degraded of the +hill tribe and slave population in India. Prof. Rollesten thinks that +the earliest races of man were preeminently of the Australioid type, +which is now brown-skinned and wavy haired, with long narrow heads. + + +Messrs. Gladstone & Tribe have been investigating the results of the +decomposition of alcohol by aluminium. When absolute alcohol, in which +iodine has been dissolved, is poured upon finely divided aluminium in a +flask, energetic action takes place and large quantities of hydrogen are +evolved. A pasty mass remains, and this heated to 100 deg. C., gives off +alcohol, and leaves a solid residue, which liquefies at 275 deg. C., +alcohol and an oily body containing iodine passing over. At a higher +temperature, this product was again decomposed, with formation of +alcohol, ethylene, and alumina. But the most interesting results were +obtained under diminished pressure. Then a greenish white solid +sublimed, and this was found to be aluminic ethylate. This is therefore +the second known organometallic body, containing oxygen, which is +capable of distillation, cacodylic oxide being the other. + + + + +CURRENT LITERATURE. + + +Prof. Huxley's ingenious if somewhat shallow evasion of the Biblical +account of creation, by crediting it to Milton rather than to Moses, has +perhaps aroused many minds to inquire what modern theologians really do +think of the first chapters of Genesis. This question is answered by a +recent publication[12] by Dr. Cocker of the Michigan State University. +In the "Theistic Conception of the World" he treats the first two +chapters of the Bible as a poem, which he calls the "symbolical hymn of +creation." It has an exordium, six strophes, each with its refrain, and +an episode. He does not believe the sacred narrative intends to describe +the exact mode of forming the world, nor even to set the successive +events in order. It is an ascription, designed to embody in symbolical +language the fact that all existence is derived from God. One paragraph +will show the broad ground on which this conclusion is based: + + A cursory reading of the narrative will convince any one that + its purpose is not to enlarge men's views of nature, but to + teach them something concerning nature's God. It says nothing + about the forces of nature, the laws of nature, the + classifications of natural history, or the size, positions, + distances, and motions of the heavenly bodies. From first to + last, every phenomenon and every law is linked immediately to + some act or some command of God. It is God who creates, God who + commands, God who names, God who approves, and God who blesses. + Strike out the allusions to God, and the narrative is + meaningless. Clearly it was never intended to teach science. It + has obviously one purpose, to reveal and keep before the minds + of men the grand truth _that Jehovah is the sole Creator and + Lord of the heavens and the earth_; and it leaves the + scientific comprehension of nature to the natural powers with + which God has endowed man for that end. + +But the author believes that the Mosaic account is practically correct, +or perhaps we should say harmonious with the truth. It may be truthful +without being all the truth, or truthful and still be very defective. He +considers that when scientific knowledge is complete, the Scripture, +rightly interpreted, will be found in harmony with its final +conclusions. How Moses was made acquainted with the events of creation +is a matter upon which it is impossible to be positive. The author sees +no objection to the suggestion that he may have witnessed a series of +pictures or visions, the result of which upon his mind is given in the +hymn of creation. This explanation of the Biblical narrative forms but a +small part of the work, which is chiefly given to a discussion of the +views and positive discoveries of scientific men which relate to the +production of the world. It is a remarkable tribute to the overmastering +power of positive knowledge. Science and theology are mingled in an +extraordinary way, but a way that is now necessary, for there is not one +province of human thought that has not been compelled to acknowledge the +great possibilities of inductive reasoning. Dr. Cocker labors to +establish the old faith on the new ground. He is a man of great reading +and has a strong belief in the religion to which he has given his heart. +Every question is approached in the firm faith that when rightly +interpreted it will be found to sustain the Christian religion. This is +the fundamental fault of the work. It is a plea for a cause that does +not need it, for a cause that is quite as apt to lose as to gain by the +defence. The difficulty with this method of meeting the hypothesis of +science is that the scientific views are themselves in a state of +unstable equilibrium. They may topple at any moment, and then the +correspondence that eager devotees have found between them and the Bible +is a slur that falls altogether on the religion and not on the science. +This is a great error, and those who are drawn into it belittle the +cause that is dear to them. While our author is catholic in his reading, +he does not seem to assign to all writers in his field their just value. +His quotations, the fresh, the obsolete, the trustworthy, and the +doubtful, are mingled in a confusion that only the experienced can +penetrate. His book is creditable to his unshaken faith, and it +presents the religious aspect of modern knowledge in a thorough manner. + + * * * * * + +It is not strange that under the present condition of the general mind +the question as to the right of the State to teach religion at the +public expense should be regarded with unusual interest. This question +has been very ably discussed by the Rev. Dr. Spear, whose book upon the +subject,[13] originally published as a series of essays in "The +Independent," is notably thorough and notably calm and judicial in tone. +Dr. Spear considers the subject in both its constitutional and its +equitable aspect, and the conclusion to which he is led is that "the +public school, like the State, under whose authority it exists, by whose +taxing power it is supported, should be simply a civil institution, +absolutely secular and not at all religious in its purposes, and all +practical questions involving this principle should be settled in +accordance therewith." He admits that this logical result of his +argument excludes the Bible from the public school, just as it excludes +the Westminster Catechism, the Koran, or any of the sacred books of +heathenism. But, as he justly says, this conclusion pronounces no +judgment against the Bible and none for it; it simply omits to use it +and declines to inculcate the religion which it teaches. It is difficult +to see how any other view of the case can be taken consistently with the +spirit of our institutions, from the Constitution of the United States +downward; and it is a cheering promise of the disappearance of bigotry, +even in its milder forms, when we see this view set forth by a +distinguished orthodox minister of the Gospel. There still, however, +remains this question in connection with religious toleration and +religious qualifications--Does a religion one element of which is +absolute subservience to the will of a foreign potentate or prelate, the +Roman or the Greek, for example, and which undertakes to deal with a +civil relation, marriage for example, come properly within the provision +for universal religious toleration, or does it not, for the reasons +assigned, assume a relation to the State more or less political? + + * * * * * + +Captain Whittaker's "Life of General Custer"[14] can no more be +estimated by fixed biographical rules than the meteoric career of his +hero can be compared to the regular and peaceful lives of other men. Not +often, perhaps, does the biographer devote himself with such +enthusiastic _abandon_ to his task, and seldom is there to be found +within the covers of a single volume such an infinite variety of +incident and personal reminiscence. The chapters which deal with the +early youth of General Custer are exceedingly interesting photographs, +as it were, of a certain phase of American domestic and academic life. +The characteristics of the child, the sorrows of the "plebe," and the +aspirations and experiences of the cadet, are faithfully narrated. The +first service of the subaltern, and his initiation into the perils and +responsibilities of an officer in time of war, are interwoven with +Custer's own recollections of his generals and their campaigns. We are +irresistibly reminded of Lever in the style of the narration, and of +that dashing creature "O'Malley" in the adventures of our own dragoon. +The story of General Custer's wooing is quaintly told, and shines like a +bow of promise through all the clouds of his stormy career; it is a +romance by itself. _Apropos_ of the charge which we are told won the boy +general his star, we clip a bit of word painting which could only have +been written by "one who has been there": + + Were you ever in a charge--you who read this now by the winter + fireside, long after the bones of the slain have turned to + dust, when peace covers the land? If not, you have never known + the fiercest pleasure of life. The chase is nothing to it; the + most headlong hunt is tame in comparison. In the chase the game + flees, and you shoot; here the game shoots back, and every leap + of the charging steed is a peril escaped or dashed aside. The + sense of power and audacity that possesses the cavalier, the + unity with his steed, both are perfect. The horse is as wild as + the man: with glowing eyeballs and red nostrils, he rushes + frantically forward at the very top of his speed, with huge + bounds as different from the rhythmic precision of the gallop + as the sweep of the hurricane is from the rustle of the breeze. + Horse and rider are drunk with excitement; feeling and seeing + nothing but the cloud of dust, the scattered flying figures; + conscious of only one mad desire, to reach them, to smite, + smite, smite! + +The author of this book is too much of an artist, too much of a poet, +perhaps, to divest his battle descriptions of anything that is doubtful +in fact, if only it is eulogistic of his hero or picturesque in its +nature. He has an eye for color, and prefers to have his picture a showy +and effective one even if some of the accessories are purely of the +imagination. We cannot consider the letters of the "Times" special +correspondent as a reliable history of the events immediately following +the battle of Gettysburg, although they are undoubtedly glowing +bulletins of the exploits of General Kilpatrick and his temporary +subordinate, General Custer. Nor can we accept the statement of the +Detroit "Evening News" for an entirely correct report of the grand +review at Washington, in 1865, when he hands down to posterity that +sober-sided old warrior, Provost Marshal General Patrick, as one who +"had ridden down the broad avenue bearing his reins in his teeth, and +his sabre in his only hand"; although the Mazeppa act in which Custer +immediately followed is not overdrawn by the "News," because that would +be "painting the lily." There are several other extracts from newspapers +of a similar nature, but we have not space to refer to them. Captain +Whittaker's book offers material for that "coming historian," but cannot +be looked upon as an entirely safe historical authority. Colonel Chesney +says, "Accept no one-sided statement from any national historian who +rejects what is distasteful in his authorities, and uses only what suits +his own theory.... Gather carefully from actual witnesses, high and low, +such original material as they offer for the construction of the +narrative. This once being safely proved, judge critically and calmly +what was the conduct of the chief actor; how far his insight, calmness, +personal control over others, and right use of his means were concerned +in the result." The great fault of this otherwise attractive biography +is the unwise partisanship which, as Captain Whittaker shows, was so +injurious to his hero in life and which even in death does not forsake +him. At page 282 Captain Whittaker says of alleged envy and jealousy of +Custer in certain quarters: + + A great deal of this was due to the boasting and sarcastic + remarks of his injudicious friends, who could not be satisfied + with praising their own chief without depreciating others. + +Thus the author, after warning his readers of the pit into which so many +others have fallen, proceeds in the most inconsistent manner to fall +into it himself. + +Had we space, we could here make many extracts entirely free from the +foregoing objections. Many new descriptions of Indian life, never before +in print, are here given; some excellent essays on the prominent phases +of American military life; and many anecdotes and biographical sketches +of the officers who fell with Custer on the "Little Big-horn," with +portraits, are also given. The volume is a very large, handsome octavo, +illustrated by two portraits of General Custer (one an excellent +likeness on steel), and many full-page woodcuts, and seems especially +seasonable as a holiday present. No biographical collection can be +considered complete without it, and we should think it would have an +especial charm to military readers. That Mrs. Custer is to receive a +share of the receipts from its sale will not lessen its circulation. + + * * * * * + +Palestine is certainly an inexhaustible source of books, and Dr. +Ridgaway[15] tells us the reason why. Travellers' descriptions of the +grand mountain scenery, its strange deserts, its ancient customs, +transmitted from the dawn of history, its trees a thousand years of age, +and its mighty ruins, contribute to and intensify the interest which the +Christian feels in that region alone of all the earth. Of late years +this country has been the scene of systematic explorations and the theme +of an important series of critical works. Dr. Ridgaway's volume deserves +a place in this series, though he has little of novelty to present. But +the author has produced just the book that was needed, the one which it +might be supposed the first traveller there would have written. Leaving +out nearly all the every-day incidents of travel, he aims to extract +from each place he saw just what is of interest to the Bible student. He +is to be congratulated on a rare ability to discriminate between the +important and entertaining and what is matter-of-course. The plan of his +journey, which was made in company with eleven others, mostly clergymen, +was to follow the route of the Israelites from Egypt to Palestine, and +then to visit every place made memorable by the life of Christ, besides +many others of Biblical interest. He tried to be critical, and +constantly discusses the pros and cons for admitting the received +location of prominent points; but in this he is not very successful, and +seems to decline at length into helpless acquiescence. He rejects the +innovations and doubts of such men as Robinson and Baker, and +acknowledges that the sacred sites have for the most part been +identified. But there is a limit to even his credulity. He swallowed +easily the "exact spot" where the cradle lay, but strained at the +fragment of a column on which Mohammed is to sit when he judges the +world, and says, "I was unable to resist the temptation to straddle it!" +Perhaps the secret of Dr. Ridgaway's success is that he has omitted +those rhapsodies which are natural enough amid such scenes, but which we +get our fill of without going to Palestine. He is too full of the real +situation to turn to fanciful imaginations, and as a consequence he +gives us the best companion to the Bible which we know of. The critical +results of his journey are small, but as a careful summary of what +others have finally settled upon his work is authentic. A large number +of engravings, of the best execution, bring the landscape and buildings +vividly before us. Many of them are from Dr. Ridgaway's sketches, others +from photographs, and the only fault we have to find is the omission of +titles to them, an omission which is artistic, but inconvenient. + +--Lieutenant Ruffner[16] does not give a very assuring picture of New +Mexico, considered as a possible State in our Union. It has never +prospered; its population and area of cultivated land being smaller now +than three hundred years ago. As these changes are no doubt due to the +operation of natural causes, about which scientific men do not agree, +the immediate future of the country does not appear very flattering. +Wide as the spread of westward migration has been, it has hardly +affected New Mexico. Lieutenant Ruffner says: "The line once crossed, a +foreign country is entered. Foreign faces and a foreign tongue are +encountered." For twenty-six years the Territory has formed a part of +our country, but in that time our civilization has hardly made an +impression upon it. The author, without directly saying so, seems to +regard the scheme for making it a State with disfavor, and his readers +will agree with him. He has done his country a service by this +painstaking and impartial description of a region which few but army +officers know anything about. + +--It is a very difficult thing nowadays to write a book of travels that +can interest the general public. A hundred years ago a man who had +circumnavigated the world was a remarkable object, and people would +crowd to see him, and read his works with avidity. But what a change the +last century has produced. Compare the difference of tone between 1776 +and 1876, and then go back and compare 1676 with the former year. There +is not anything like a parity of advance between the two centuries. The +traveller and sailor was as much of a hero in 1776 as was the captain of +the Vittoria, the last ship of Magellan's fleet when he sailed into +Cadiz in 1522, having been round the earth and lost a day in the +operation; just as Mr. Phileas Fogg, of later fame, gained one by going +in the opposite direction. Men who have been to China and India, +Australia and New Zealand, are too plentiful to-day to excite notice; +and when it comes to writing books about their adventures, it is +necessary to be cautious to avoid treading in old tracks and wearying +the reader. The man who describes a voyage round the world to-day must +be a character of interest in himself, or he will not interest his +audience. The writer of the book now before us[17] possesses the +qualifications for the task seldom possessed by the professional +traveller, who is apt to bore one with long stories. He has the eye of a +newspaper correspondent, the quick intuition as to what is or is not +interesting _per se_, and has actually succeeded in making an +interesting and readable book of three hundred pages out of a subject +nearly worn out. Mr. Vincent started from New York in a clipper ship, +went round the Horn to San Francisco, thence to Hawaii, where he +remained some weeks, thence to New Zealand and Australia, finally to +Calcutta, and thence home to New York, after a prolonged tour through +India, Siam, and China. The incidents of the latter tour formed the +basis of his first book, the "Land of the White Elephant," the success +of which encouraged him to this, his second venture. The chief +characteristic of Mr. Vincent's second work is its freshness and +interest. He seems to be profoundly impressed with the truth of the +saying of Thales of Miletus, that "the half is sometimes more than the +whole." The taste and judgment of the author are shown by what he leaves +out as much as by what he leaves in. There is hardly a dull page in the +book, and in each place he only notes what is curious, leaving out of +the question all that is commonplace. More could not be asked of him. + + * * * * * + +We have received the first number of the "Archives of the National +Museum at Rio de Janeiro."[18] This is a scientific institution, and +from the number of officers named it appears to be prepared for +inaugurating thorough work in archaeology, geology, botany, zoology, etc. +Its aim, however, is not merely the study of pure science, but its +application to the immediate welfare of man through agriculture and the +industries. The director general is Dr. Netto, and the secretary Dr. +Joao Joaquin Pizarro. Most of the officers are Brazilians, but our +countryman, Prof. Hartt, is director of the "sciencias physicas," +including geology, mineralogy, and palaeontology. This first number of +the "Archivos" contains papers in the Portuguese language on aboriginal +remains, one by Prof. Wiener and Prof. Hartt, and one by Dr. Netto on a +botanical subject. + + * * * * * + +Prof. Walker's work in both the Census Bureau and the Indian Department +shows how original and critical his mind is. The first fruit of his +activity as a professional teacher of political economy is an extended +treatise on the question of wages.[19] He seems to have found himself +unable to make the views of the systematic writers always harmonize with +his own conceptions, and his work is to a considerable extent +controversial. One of his prominent objects of attack is the wage-fund +theory, which is that wages are paid out of capital, that a certain +portion of the capital in every country is charged with this duty, and +that the rate of wages could be accurately determined if the amount of +this fund and the total number of laborers could be ascertained. This +theory makes the savings of past labor to be the source from which wages +are paid. Prof. Walker argues that "wages are, in a philosophical view +of the subject, paid out of the product of present industry, and hence +that production furnishes the true measure of wages." Labor is an +article which the employer buys because it forms a necessary part of a +certain product which he intends to sell. The price which he expects to +obtain for the product controls the amount he can afford to pay for the +labor. It is true that the money paid must necessarily come from past +savings unless the laborers wait for their pay, as they formerly did in +this country. But in making this payment capital merely _advances_ the +money, and its possessor receives interest for its use; the amount of +this interest being another element that is controlled by the price +which the manufacturer expects to obtain for the product. Prof. Walker +thinks it not surprising that the erroneous wage-fund theory found +acceptance in England, where the facts on which it is based were first +observed. But he marvels that American thinkers can accept it, for the +condition of some classes of laborers here was, so late as half a +century ago, a decided disproof of it. Farm hands, for instance, were +formerly often paid at the end of the year, for the reason that there +was not capital enough in farmers' hands to make the advances necessary +for weekly or monthly payments. Here was a case in which the employer +clearly had to wait for the product before he could pay the wages. No +past savings were available for the purpose. The author's arguments are +always clearly put and forcible, but his position loses strength by the +very character of his task. He has so completely separated the wages +question from all others, that we miss the natural collocation of wages +with the other items which make up the cost of a product. The capitalist +has one and the same purpose in buying raw material and labor, and no +discussion of the subject can seem complete that does not proceed from +the likeness or unlikeness of these two components of value. Another +theory which our author combats strongly is that the interest of the +employer is sufficient to keep wages up to the highest profitable point. +He holds that the laborer must be active in his own interests, or he +will never obtain that rate of payment which is necessary to his proper +maintenance. Bad food reduces the quantity and quality of the laborer's +work, so that more men have to be hired for a given task, and the +employer pays more in the end for his product, than when wages are good; +but even this prospective loss is not sufficient to keep employers from +experimenting to find just that point to which wages may be lowered +without affecting food disastrously. This disposition of the employer +can be combatted only by the resistance of the laborer. Prof. Walker +thinks there is a "constantly imminent danger that bodies of laborers +will not soon enough or amply enough resent industrial injuries which +may be wrought by the concerted action of employers or by slow and +gradual changes in production, or by catastrophes in business, such as +commercial panics." Of course he does not advocate strikes, which "are +the insurrections of labor," but even these are to be judged by their +results. The results may or may not justify them. He considers that +cooperation is a real panacea that can successfully take the place of +violent measures. He denies the assertion that cooperation gets rid of +the capitalist. It merely avoids the business man, who in the present +order of things borrows the capital, hires the laborers, and directs the +business. Practically he is a salaried man. Prof. Walker finds +difficulty in giving this man a title suitable for use in treatises on +political economy. He objects to "undertaker" and "adventurer," because +they have other meanings, and suggests the French _entrepreneur_. The +objections are well taken, but the middleman is not only a reality; he +also has a name by which he is known in business. If Prof. Walker wants +to have a cellar dug or rock blasted, he can go to Pennsylvania and find +a "venturer" to undertake the work; and there seems to be no good reason +why a term that is already in common use and well understood should be +rejected by the schoolmen. This is a valuable contribution to political +economy, so valuable, in fact, that we can only _say_ that it should be +read, not demonstrate the fact in a short notice. + + * * * * * + +"Elsie's Motherhood"[20] is a story in which piety of the Sunday-school +kind is curiously contrasted with villany in the shape of Ku Klux +outrages. Elsie's children are all sweetness, obedience, and kisses, and +live in an atmosphere of goodness that is revolting because it is +monstrous. There is a suspicion of political purpose associated with the +appearance of the book just at this time which does not improve it. + +--The author of "Near to Nature's Heart"[21] shows abundant powers of +invention, but his imagination is not sufficiently well regulated for +the production of a natural or even plausible story. The individual who +is so intimate with nature is a young girl whose father has fled from +England and hidden himself in the forests of the Hudson river on account +of a quarrel with his brother, which he (erroneously) supposes to have +been a fatal one. His seclusion is so complete that his daughter grows +up almost without the sight of man or womankind except the three who are +in her father's hut, and the consequence is a partial reversion to the +wild state from which we are nowadays supposed to have been somewhat +removed by the process of evolution. The author dresses the nymph in a +style that ingeniously indicates the character he desires to paint. "Her +attire was as simple as it was strange, consisting of an embroidered +tunic of finely dressed fawn skin, reaching a little below the knee, and +ending in a blue fringe. Some lighter fabric was worn under it, and +encased the arms. The shapely neck and throat were bare, though almost +hidden by a wealth of wavy golden tresses that flowed down her +shoulders. Her hat appeared to have been constructed out of the skin of +the snowy heron, with its beak and plumage preserved intact, and dressed +into the jauntiest style. Leggings of strong buckskin, that formed a +protection against the briers and roughness of the forest, were clasped +around a slender ankle, and embroidered moccasins completed an attire +that was not in the style of the girl of the period, even a century +ago." This nymph was fishing, and for a float used the bud of a water +lily! This is quite characteristic of the author's idea throughout. In +losing civilization this girl put on all the supposed graces and none of +the known brutishness of the wild state. The result is an incongruous +character, but it is quite in harmony with the general notion that the +natural state is one of greater perfection than that we really dwell in. +As for the story, it relates to Revolutionary times, introduces +Washington and the Continental army, with battles, dangers, and other +lively and thrilling situations. In plot it is crude and rough. The +author makes the artistic mistake of introducing religion as a principal +element of his tale, though it does not relate to a time or to persons +characteristically religious. The variety of incident, the presence of +historical characters, including Washington and "Captain" Molly, and a +certain _quantum_ of real skill in the author, will no doubt make this +book acceptable to the uncritical, but it does not deserve the attention +of others. We notice that the publishers announce the "fourteenth +thousand," which is the best indication of the book's popularity. + + * * * * * + +The ranks of the rhymers of the day are thronged with women, among the +better of whom is the author of "Edelweiss,"[22] who has gathered her +occasional verses into a pretty volume under the title of that graceful +and tender little poem. Her title-page bears no publisher's name and her +dedication to friends, whose loving kindness has welcomed them one by +one, and at whose request they have been gathered together, seems to +imply that they are privately printed. If this is because no publisher +would undertake the production of the volume, we do not wonder; not +because of the inferiority of the poems, for they are much better than +many that do find publishers. They belong to a large class in which the +world cannot be brought to take any great interest--verses expressive of +various emotions, love, devotion, resignation, and so forth, which are +all uttered with fervor or with tenderness, verses graceful in style, +and in good rhythm, and which yet produce no great impression; while on +the other hand they are much above that sentimental or that sententious +twaddle which sometimes finds many admirers. It is sad to see so much of +this sort of verse published; for it is the occasion and the sign of +woful disappointment to persons of unusual intelligence and true poetic +feeling, who, however, have not in any great measure the poetic faculty. + +--"Frithiof's Saga" has been often translated into English, and we have +here the result of one more effort to give us the great Swedish poem in +our own language.[23] The principal difference between this translation +and its predecessors is that this preserves the changing metres of the +original. It was undertaken chiefly because it seems the Swedes have not +been satisfied with the previous translations because they did not +follow the metre of the original. The reason is not a good one, and the +result of the attempt to conform to it is not very happy. There is no +question of pleasing the Swedes with a translation into English. It is +English ears that are to be consulted by what is written in English, +whether original or not. The Swedes have the original; that is for them; +the English version is for us. The effect of the many and great changes +in the rhythm and in the form of the verse is not pleasant to our taste; +and indeed we are inclined to think that the best translation of this or +of any other "Saga" would be into rhythmic prose, which embodied the +spirit, but did not simulate the form of the original. + +--It is very unfortunate for what is often called American literature, +that almost all attempts to treat any part of our history poetically or +dramatically are miserable failures. Among the verse books before us two +are of this kind; one by Mr. George L. Raymond,[24] who has written in +what he supposes is the ballad form some things which are not at all +ballad-like, and which are dreary stuff under whatever name; and the +other a thing which Mr. Martin F. Tupper[25] seems to suppose is a drama +in blank verse upon the events of our war of independence. A more stupid +and ridiculous performance we have rarely seen. That it should be read +through by any one seems to us quite insupposable. And yet, although he +has written this and "Proverbial Philosophy," Mr. Tupper is a D. C. L. +of Oxford and an F. R. S. + +--Something of a far higher quality than this is Mr. Bayard Taylor's +"National Ode" written for the Centennial celebration. It is to be +regretted, we think, that Mr. Taylor was not able to give himself up +entirely to poetical composition. He has the poetic faculty, and his +verse is nervous and manly, far better, we think, than his prose. Had he +been a poet only, he might have taken a still higher place in +contemporary literature. This poem, well known to the public, is one of +his finest and most spirited efforts. The present edition[26] is very +handsomely illustrated and printed. + +--Charles Sprague is an "American" poet of the last generation, who is +almost forgotten, and indeed quite unknown to readers of the present +day. He has something of Campbell in his style--Campbell in his calm and +serious moods. It may have been desirable to reprint his poems and +essays in an attractive volume,[27] with his portrait; but we fear that +he belongs to the class of middling writers of prose and verse who were +much talked of by our fathers chiefly because they were "American." + +--One of the best of the many volumes of verse upon our table is the +collection of poems by Mrs. S. M. B. Piatt.[28] Mrs. Piatt's muse is +often thoughtful, but in all that she has given us, of which much is +attractive in form and suggestive in substance, these lines that follow +are the most valuable. They refer to the altar which Paul found at +Athens "To the Unknown God": + + Because my life was hollow with a pain + As old as death: because my eyes were dry + As the fierce tropics after months of rain, + Because my restless voice said, "Why?" and "Why?" + + Wounded and worn, I knelt within the night + As blind as darkness--Praying? And to Whom?-- + When yond' _cold crescent cut my folded sight_, + And showed a phantom Altar in my room. + + It was the Altar Paul at Athens saw. + The Greek bowed there, but not the Greek alone! + The ghosts of nations gathered, wan with awe, + And laid their offerings on that shadowy stone. + + The Egyptian worshipped there the crocodile; + There they of Nineveh the bull with wings; + The Persian there with swart, sun-lifted smile + Felt in his soul the writhing fire's bright stings. + + There the weird Druid held his mistletoe; + There, for the scorched son of the sand, coiled bright, + The torrid snake was hissing sharp and low; + And there the Western savage paid his rite. + + "Allah," the Moslem darkly muttered there; + "Brahma," the jewelled Indies of the East + Sighed through their spices with a languid prayer; + "Christ?" faintly questioned many a paler priest. + + And still the Athenian Altar's glimmering Doubt + On all religions--evermore the same. + What tears shall wash its sad inscription out? + What hand shall write thereon His other name? + +The last five lines of Mrs. Piatt's poem express finely the feeling as +to God and religion which now fills countless numbers of the truest +hearts and brightest minds. + +--"As You Like It" has just been published in the "Clarendon Press +Series of Shakespeare's Select Plays." Mr. Grant White, in his article +"On Reading Shakespeare," in the present number of "The Galaxy," has +said so much in regard to this series and its present editor,[29] +William Aldis Wright, that it is only necessary for us to record here +the appearance of this edition of Shakespeare's most charming comedy, +and to say that Shakespeare's lovers and students will find in it some +new views which are interesting, and appear to be sound, and a copious +and careful body of annotation. + +--Of poetry, or rather of verse, as we before remarked, our table is +full this month, and with it we have a dictionary to teach us to rhyme +withal.[30] "Walker's Rhyming Dictionary" has had complete possession of +this field for three quarters of a century, and we are not sure that it +will be supplanted by Mr. Barnum's. His new plan is very systematic. He +classifies his words in groups--single rhymes, double rhymes, triple, +quadruple, and even quintuple rhymes; and then he divides and subdivides +and parcels off his words under separate headings. He does not give +definitions. The book will be valuable to the student of the English +language, more so, we are inclined to think, than to the mere +rhyme-hunter, who will prefer to run his finger and his eye down a +column of words arranged merely according to their final letters. + +--Mr. Tennyson's new dramatic poem is before us in the elegant Boston +typography of Ticknor & Field's worthy successors.[31] The poet laureate +added little to his fame by his previous dramatic work, "Queen Mary"; he +will gain less by this. It is good of course to a certain degree, but +it is only "fair to middling" Tennysonian work. We find in it not a +passage that stirs us, not one that charms. It puts the story of the +Norman Conquest of England into a dramatic form and into good blank +verse, with sound and sensible treatment of the subject, and that is +all. Its author's good taste, and above all his experience, his +dexterity, acquired by such long practice, are manifest on every page; +but there is little more. He dedicates it to the present Lord Lytton, in +evident desire to wipe out the memory of the old feud between him and +Bulwer Lytton; but that was too black and too bitter to be sponged away +with a little sugar and water. + +--Mr. Latham Cornell Strong is modest in his preface about his +collection of verse,[32] although he is rather too elaborately +metaphorical in his way of blushing properly. He says, as to the flaws +in his poems, that he "has a reasonable confidence that they will not +all be discovered by any one reader." This may be true from the probable +fact that no one reader will read them all; we think that we have met +with enough of them to show that Mr. Strong might well have refrained +himself from publication. For example, we think that a true poet could +hardly have written many such passages as these, and there are many such +in the volume: + + The night is rising from the trees, + Her _hands_, uplifted, _trail_ with stars + + The moon hath flung _its banners_ on the sward + + Old Rupert named, _alone of all the rest_ + She most esteemed, for he had brought her flowers, + To wreathe her tresses and make manifest + His sympathy for her, _in many ways expressed_ + +The last four lines unite incorrectness, tameness, and inelegance with +remarkable and fatal facility. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[12] "_The Theistic Conception of the World._ An Essay in Opposition to +Certain Tendencies of Modern Thought." By B. F. COCKER, D.D., LL.D. New +York: Harper & Brothers. + +[13] "_Religion and the State_; or, The Bible and the Public Schools." +By SAMUEL T. SPEAR, D.D. 12mo, pp. 393. New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. + +[14] "_A Complete Life of General George A. Custer_," etc. By F. +WHITTAKER, Brevet Captain Sixth N. Y. V. Cavalry. New York: Sheldon & +Co. + +[15] "_The Lord's Land_: A Narrative of Travels in Sinai, Arabia, +Petraea, and Palestine, from the Red Sea to the Entering in of Hamath." +By HENRY B. RIDGAWAY, D.D. New York: Nelson & Phillips. + +[16] "_New Mexico and the New Mexicans_: A Political Problem." By an +Officer of the Army. + +[17] "_Through and Through the Tropics._" By FRANK VINCENT, Jr. New +York: Harper & Brothers. 1876. + +[18] "_Archivos do Musen Nacional do Rio de Janeiro._" Imprensa +Industrial. + +[19] "_The Wages Question._ A Treatise on Wages and the Wages Class." By +FRANCIS A. WALKER. New York: Henry Holt & Co. $3.50. + +[20] "_Elsie's Motherhood._" A Sequel to "Elsie's Womanhood." By MARTHA +FINLEY (FARQUHARSON). New York: Dodd, Mead & Co. + +[21] "_Near to Nature's Heart._" By Rev. E. P. ROE. New York: Dodd, Mead +& Co. + +[22] "_Edelweiss_: An Alpine Rhyme." By MARY LOWE DICKINSON. New York, +1876. + +[23] "_Frithiof's Saga._ A Norse Romance." By ESAIS FEGNER, Bishop of +Wexio. Translated from the Swedish by Thomas A. Holcombe and Martha and +Lyon Holcombe. 16mo, pp. 213. Chicago: S. C. Griggs & Co. + +[24] "_Colony Ballads_, etc., etc., etc., etc." By GEORGE L. RAYMOND. +16mo, pp. 95. New York: Hurd & Houghton. + +[25] "_Washington_: A Drama in Five Acts." By MARTIN F. TUPPER. 16mo, +pp. 67. New York: James Miller. + +[26] "_The National Ode._ The Memorial Freedom Poem." By BAYARD TAYLOR. +Illustrated. 8vo, pp. 74. Boston: William E. Gill & Co. + +[27] "_The Poetical and Prose Writings of Charles Sprague._" 16mo, pp. +207. Boston: A. Williams & Co. + +[28] "_That New World, and Other Poems._" By Mrs. S. M. B. PIATT. 16mo, +pp. 130. Boston: James R. Osgood & Co. + +[29] "_Shakespeare._" Select Plays. "As You Like It." Edited by WILLIAM +ALDIS WRIGHT, M.A., Bursar of Trinity College, Cambridge. 16mo, pp. 168. +Oxford: at the Clarendon Press. + +[30] "_A Vocabulary of English Rhymes._" Arranged on a new plan. By the +Rev. SAMUEL W. BARNUM. 18mo, pp. 767. New York: D. Appleton & Co. + +[31] "_Harold_: A Drama." By ALFRED TENNYSON. 16mo, pp. 170. Boston: +James B. Osgood & Co. + +[32] "_Castle Windows._" By LATHAM CORNELL STRONG. 16mo, pp. 229. Troy: +H. B. Nims & Co. + + + + +NEBULAE. + + +--The evolutionists manifestly feel that they are put upon their defence +in the matter of religion. As far as they themselves are concerned, they +are at peace with their own consciences; but nevertheless they do not +sit easily under the charge of atheism which is very generally brought +against them by that part of the world to which science does not stand +in place of religion. They are now making desperate efforts to show that +they have a religion, and Mr. M. J. Savage has written a very clever +book upon the subject, entitled "The Religion of Evolution." Mr. Savage +is a very pronounced evolutionist; he sticks at nothing in the most +extravagant form of the new theory, and the attitude which he would take +toward religion is clearly shown in the title of his previous volume on +a kindred subject, "Christianity the Science of Manhood." It is safe to +say that although Mr. Savage and others like him may call themselves +Christians and believe themselves to be so, and may live lives worthy of +the name, no man who twenty-five years ago was a professed believer in +the Christian religion, and comparatively very few of those who are so +now, would accept the term _science_ as applicable to Christianity or to +religion at all. For science means knowledge, knowledge of facts, and +cautious logical deductions from those facts; whereas the very essence +of religion is a faith which holds itself above knowledge and reason, a +faith which is not only the substance of things hoped for, but the +evidence of things not seen. And this great definition, one of the +greatest ever given, applies not particularly to the faith of the +Christian religion, but to all faiths--Judaism, Mohammedanism, Buddhism, +and the rest. The true religionist will sooner accept one of these as a +religion than a religion of evolution, or than he will consent to accept +Christianity as a science of anything--of manhood, or even of God-hood. + +--It is with this view of religion, this feeling about it, that the +evolutionists have to deal when they endeavor to free themselves from +the charge of irreligion. This is a state of the case which some of them +do not seem to appreciate at its full importance. They shirk it, or at +least they slight it; but Mr. Savage, it must be admitted, meets it +fairly and boldly. He takes the position that such a view of religion is +unworthy of a reasonable creature, and he brushes it aside with little +ceremony and with some dexterity. But his chief difficulty is with the +conception which lies at the foundation of all religions--the idea of +god. Granted a god, or gods, and religion follows as a matter of course; +and conversely, no god, no religion. Therefore the evolutionists, those +of them who feel, or who see the necessity of a religion, of whom Mr. +Savage may be taken as a fair representative, go about to provide +themselves and the rest of the universe with a god, and they do it in +this fashion. It is shown to the satisfaction of the evolutionists, and +also of very many who have no respect for their theory, that the Mosaic +cosmogony--that is, the account in Genesis of the creation of the earth +and its inhabitants, and all the visible universe--has never been +proved, and is incapable of proof, and that it holds its place in +popular belief solely because of its supposed connection with +Christianity; that it is merely a tradition (from however high and +venerable a source), and that it rests upon no knowledge or study of the +facts which it professes to explain; that it is in no way connected with +Christianity, which would stand on its own merits equally whether the +world were six thousand or six million years old, and whether it and its +inhabitants were made in six days or six aeons; that it--the Mosaic +account of the origin of the world--explains nothing, but simply tells +dogmatically that God made all and that God did so and so; that no +intelligent person would think of resting satisfied with the Mosaic +account, had it not come to be regarded as a requirement of religion to +do so, but that this has become so fixed that the whole orthodox system +is the natural and logical outgrowth of the Mosaic account of the +beginning of things: "the prevailing belief about God, the nature and +the fall of man, total depravity, the need and the schemes for +supernatural redemption, the whole structure, creed, and ritual of the +Church, the common belief about the nature and efficacy of prayer +meetings, the whole system of popular revivals, limited salvation, and +everlasting punishment"--all and each being built on the foundation of +the Mosaic cosmogony. Therefore for the vast number of intelligent +thoughtful people to whom the Mosaic account of the creation is no +longer authoritative, although it may be mythically instructive, the +foundation of their religion is gone. It is then assumed that religion +must rest upon a veneration for the creative power or agent to which the +present _cosmos_ owes its existence, and that as the traditional God or +Creator of Genesis has been eliminated from cognition by science, his +place in religion must be taken by the power by which he is supplanted. +Hence we have the god of evolution and the religion of evolution. + +--But what is this god of evolution? In a very remarkable series of +papers which have appeared for some months past in "Macmillan's +Magazine," upon Natural Religion, remarkable equally for the subtlety +and closeness of their thought and their clearness of style, something +called Nature is set up as God; Mr. Savage's god, as nearly as we can +make out, is the law of evolution--the formative power by which the +universe passed from a mass of fluid fire, revolving in space, into +suns, and suns and planets, and their inhabitants. In either case it +amounts to about the same thing. What is nature? We may be sure the word +is not used in the sense which it has when we say that a man admires +nature, loves nature, or observes nature, nor in that which it has when +we speak of the nature of things or the nature in a work of the +imagination, or the nature of man, or "the nature of the beast." What is +it then? We are very sure that the "Macmillan" writer, with all his +delicacy of thought and command of expression, could not say exactly +what he means when he speaks of this Nature which is so worthy of +reverence and of love. For this reason, and for no other, we may be +sure, he has left the word undefined. This is important; for, as Mr. +Savage says in his eleventh chapter, when he proposes the question +whether evolution and Christianity are antagonistic, so that one +necessarily excludes the other--"that depends upon definitions." + +--The truth is that this whole question is one greatly of definitions. +What do you mean by God? what by Nature? what by religion? We are +inclined to think that if the two parties on one side and the other of +the great question of the day were to have a preliminary settlement of +definitions, it would become plain that there could be no discussion, +certainly no profitable discussion, between them--no more than there +could be a fight between a deep-sea fish and a chamois. They would find +that there was no ground on which they could meet, no point on which +they could come in contact! To one God is, and must be, a person, an +individual, who, however spiritual, eternal, omniscient, and +omnipresent, is yet as much a person as a man having a will, with +purposes, affections, feelings, sentiments, as indeed every spiritual +being must have--a being who can be feared, revered, admired, loved. +Religion to these men is worship of this person, obedience to his will +because it is his, faith in him, love of him. The god of the +evolutionists, on the other hand, is, if Nature, a mere manifestation or +result; if a law, a mere mode or rule of action. As to the religion of +evolution, we cannot, with all Mr. Savage's help, and that of the +"Macmillan" writer (who, we are sure, must be a man of mark, or at least +one who will become so), discover what it is, except a conformity to +what may be called the law of nature; but that is something of which a +healthy beast or a drop of water is quite as capable as a man is; and +such conformity implies feeling quite as much in one of these cases as +in the other. It implies feeling in no case; and religion without +feeling, sentiment, and faith is no religion at all in the sense which +the word has had from the beginning of its use to this day. The +religious man finds in _his_ God a being whom he can love and lean upon, +who has a right to his obedience, to whom he can be loyal, whom he can +address, calling him Father, as we are told that Christ did. But you +cannot love a law. True, David says, "O how I love thy law"; but the law +that he loved was the will of the Supreme Being, and he loved it because +it was His. It was not a mode of action or of evolution that he loved. +Nor can you obey such a law, although you may conform to it; nor can you +be loyal to it, for you cannot be loyal to an abstraction. As to +fatherhood, this law-god of evolution is the father of nothing except as +two and two are the father and mother of four. Therefore, while we +regard such books as Mr. Savage's as interesting expositions of the +condition as to super-scientific subjects into which modern science has +brought many of its votaries, we cannot see that they do anything toward +refuting the charge brought against science (as it is among the +evolutionists), that it is at war with religion, and takes away all the +grounds of religious faith. For that which the evolutionists set up as a +god religious people regard as the mere creature of the true God; and +what they set up as religion the others regard utterly lacking in all +the essentials of religion. It would be much better for the +evolutionists to face this whole question boldly, as Mr. Savage does in +part, and to say that the result of their investigations is the belief +that there is no God, and consequently that there need not be, and in +fact cannot be, any religion in the sense in which that word has for +centuries been used. Moreover, we cannot see the grounds of one pretence +which is made by the evolutionists, and which is implied if not in terms +set up in all their writings that are not purely scientific and have +what may be called a moral character, such as the book before us. This +is that their theory accounts for everything, and is more consistent +with reason than that of those who accept with faith the book of +Genesis. The evolution theory is, in the words of Mr. Savage, "that the +whole universe, suns, planets, moons, our earth, and every form of life +upon it, vegetable and animal, up to man, together with all our +civilization, has developed from a primitive fire-mist or nebula that +once filled all the space now occupied by the worlds; and that this +development has been according to laws and methods and forces still +active and working about us to-day." But if it be granted, or even +proved, that this is true, we cannot see how it satisfies the reason +when we come to the question of creation and a creator. For what a +stupendous, unutterably stupendous, and almost inconceivable thing was +that fire-mist that filled all space and had in it not only the germs +and possibilities of suns and moons and planets and our earth, but of +man and _all his civilization_; and those laws and methods and forces +according to which the universe and man and his civilization have been +evolved from a fire-mist--what inconceivable things they are! Now who +made the fire-mist and the law of evolution? We cannot see that reason +is satisfied by the substitution of a fire-mist and a law of evolution +for the will of a creator and a specific creation of the suns and stars +and planets, including the earth, and man, and his possibilities of +civilization. The thing is as broad one way as it is long the other. As +far as the fact of creation goes, in either case the belief must be a +matter of faith, not of reason. With regard to the anthropomorphism of +the Hebrew story, that is shared, and must be shared, by all +religions--that is, all religious which rest upon the notion of a +personal God. The limitations of man's nature, the limitations of +language, make anthropomorphic metaphor necessary when a man speaks of a +god. Even the evolutionists cannot get rid of the necessity of faith. + + * * * * * + +--Dr. Richardson's papers published in "Nature," and designed to prove +the advantage, and in fact the real necessity of experimenting on +animals in order to be ready to save human life, contain many +interesting facts and deserve to be widely read in view of the current +discussion as to the propriety of permitting the practice of +vivisection. The following case affords conclusive proof of the learned +and humane physiologist's argument. He says: "Dr. Weir Mitchell of +Philadelphia, in the year 1869, made the original and remarkable +observation that if a part of the body of a frog be immersed in simple +syrup, there soon occurs in the crystalline lens of the eyeball an +opaque appearance resembling the disease called cataract. He extended +his observations to the effects of grape sugar, and obtained the same +results. He found that he could induce the cataractic condition +invariably by this experiment, or by injecting a solution of sugar with +a fine needle, subcutaneously, into the dorsal sac of the frog. The +discovery was one of singular importance in the history of medical +science, and explained immediately a number of obscure phenomena. The +co-existence of the two diseases, diabetes and cataract, in man had been +observed by France, Cohen, Hasner, Mackenzie, Duncan, Von Graafe, and +others, and Von Graafe had stated that after examining a large number of +diabetic patients in different hospitals, he had found one-fourth +affected with cataract. Before Mitchell's observation there was not a +suspicion as to the reason of this connection, and a flood of light, +therefore, broke on the subject the moment he proclaimed the new +physiological fact. Still more, Mitchell showed that the cataract he was +able to induce by experiment was curable also by experiment, a truth +which will one day lead to the cure of cataract without operation. Then, +but not till then, the splendid character of this original +investigation, and the debt that is due to one of the most original, +honest, laborious workers that ever in any age cultivated the science +and art of medicine, will be duly recognized." Upon receiving +intelligence of this discovery, Dr. Richardson undertook experiments to +discover the cause of this dependence of cataract upon diabetes. He +found that whenever the specific gravity of the blood was raised to ten +degrees above the normal standard, and remained so for a short time, +cataract followed. He also found that the disease so produced could be +cured by removing the salts which had been introduced into the blood. +This certainly points to a cure for cataract which shall be really +radical, and adds another to the results which justify, even upon +humanitarian grounds, physiological experiments, at the expense of the +animal creation, within prescribed limits. + + * * * * * + +--Mr. Sorby has lately made some calculations of the probable size of +the invisible atoms which compose material substances. Dr. Royston +Pigott determined that the smallest visual angle which we can well +appreciate is that covering a hole of 11.4 inches diameter at a distance +of 1,100 yards. This corresponds to about six seconds of an arc. In a +microscope magnifying 1,000 diameters this would make visible a particle +one-three-millionth part of an inch thick. But Mr. Sorby is inclined to +think that a size between 1/80,000 and 1/100,000 of an inch is about the +limit of the visibility of minute objects, even with the best +microscopes. Now, taking the mean of the calculations made by Stoney, +Thomson, and Clerk-Maxwell, we have 21,770 as the number of atoms of any +permanent gas required to cover one-thousandth of an inch, when lying +end to end. By a series of calculations which produce numbers entirely +beyond human conception, (10,317,000,000,000 atoms in 1/100,000,000 of a +cubic inch, for instance) he reached the conclusion that there are in +the length of 1/80,000 of an inch (the smallest visible object) about +2,000 molecules of water, or 520 of albumen, and therefore, in order to +see the ultimate constitution of organic bodies, it would be necessary +to use a magnifying power from 500 to 2,000 times greater than those we +now possess. With this result settled, he was able to make one of those +radical predictions which are so rarely possible to the careful +scientist; namely, that the atom will never be seen by man. It is not +that instruments cannot be made powerful enough (though that is no doubt +true), but that the waves of light are too coarse to distinguish the +limits of such an extremely small distance. To see atoms we should need +light waves only one-two-thousandth of their actual length. At present +we are as far from that attainment as we are from reading a newspaper, +with the naked eye, at the distance of one-third of a mile. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Galaxy, Volume 23, No. 2, +February, 1877, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GALAXY, FEBRUARY 1877 *** + +***** This file should be named 31085.txt or 31085.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/0/8/31085/ + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://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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