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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:55:39 -0700 |
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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/31358-0.txt b/31358-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b2486b3 --- /dev/null +++ b/31358-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14421 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, +No. 4, September, 1850, 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: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 4, September, 1850 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 22, 2010 [EBook #31358] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +HARPER'S + +NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. + +No. IV.--SEPTEMBER, 1850.--Vol. I. + + + + +[Illustration: MISS JANE PORTER] + +[From the London Art Journal.] + +MEMORIES OF MISS JANE PORTER. + +BY MRS S. C. HALL. + + +The frequent observation of foreigners is, that in England we have few +"celebrated women." Perhaps they mean that we have few who are +"notorious;" but let us admit that in either case they are right; and +may we not express our belief in its being better for women and for the +community that such is the case: "celebrity" rarely adds to the +happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The +time and attention required to attain "celebrity," must, except under +very peculiar circumstances, interfere with the faithful discharge of +those feminine duties upon which the well-doing of society depends, and +which shed so pure a halo around our English homes. Within these "homes" +our heroes--statesmen--philosophers--men of letters--men of +genius--receive their first impressions, and the _impetus_ to a faithful +discharge of their after callings as Christian subjects of the State. + +There are few of such men who do not trace back their resolution, their +patriotism, their wisdom, their learning--the nourishment of all their +higher aspirations--to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and +faith-inspired mother; one who _believed_ in a son's destiny to be +great; it may be, impelled by such belief rather by instinct than by +reason; who cherished (we can find no better word), the "Hero-feeling" +of devotion to what was right, though it might have been unworldly; and +whose deep heart welled up perpetual love and patience, toward the +over-boiling faults and frequent stumblings of a hot youth, which she +felt would mellow into a fruitful manhood. + +The strength and glory of England are in the keeping of the wives and +mothers of its men; and when we are questioned touching our "celebrated +women," we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over, +moulded, and inspired our "celebrated" men. + +Happy is the country where the laws of God and nature are held in +reverence--where each sex fulfills its peculiar duties, and renders its +sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the +Almighty--for while other nations writhe in anarchy and poverty, our own +spreads wide her arms to receive all who seek protection or need repose. + +But if we have few "celebrated" women, few, who impelled either by +circumstances or the irrepressible restlessness of genius, go forth amid +the pitfalls of publicity, and battle with the world, either as +poets--or dramatists--or moralists--or mere tale-tellers in simple +prose--or, more dangerous still, "hold the mirror up to nature" on the +stage that mimics life--if we have but few, we have, and have had +_some_, of whom we are justly proud; women of such well-balanced minds, +that toil they ever so laboriously in their public and perilous paths, +their domestic and social duties have been fulfilled with as diligent +and faithful love as though the world had never been purified and +enriched by the treasures of their feminine wisdom; yet this does not +shake our belief, that, despite the spotless and well-earned reputations +they enjoyed, the homage they received (and it has its charm), and even +the blessed consciousness of having contributed to the healthful +recreation, the improved morality, the diffusion of the best sort of +knowledge--the _woman_ would have been happier had she continued +enshrined in the privacy of domestic love and domestic duty. She may not +think this at the commencement of her career; and at its termination, if +she has lived sufficiently long to have descended, even gracefully from +her pedestal, she may often recall the homage of the _past_ to make up +for its lack in the _present_. But so perfectly is woman constituted for +the cares, the affections, the duties--the blessed duties of +_un_-public life--that if she give nature way it will whisper to her a +text that "celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman." She +must look for her happiness to HOME. We would have young women ponder +over this, and watch carefully, ere the vail is lifted, and the hard +cruel eye of public criticism fixed upon them. No profession is pastime; +still less so now than ever, when so many people are "clever," though so +few are great. We would pray those especially who direct their thoughts +to literature, to think of what they have to say, and why they wish to +say it; and above all, to weigh what they may expect from a capricious +public, against the blessed shelter and pure harmonies of private +life.[A] + +But we have had some--and still have some--"celebrated" women of whom we +have said "we may be justly proud." We have done pilgrimage to the +shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly "domestic" that the +Corinthian beauty of her character would never have been matter of +history, but for the wickedness of a bad king. We have recorded the +hours spent with Hannah More; the happy days passed with, and the years +invigorated by Maria Edgeworth. We might recall the stern and faithful +puritanism of Maria Jane Jewsbury; and the Old World devotion of the +true and high-souled daughter of Israel--Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones +of Felicia Heman's poetry linger still among all who appreciate the holy +sympathies of religion and virtue. We could dwell long and profitably on +the enduring patience and life-long labor of Barbara Hofland, and steep +a diamond in tears to record the memories of L.E.L. We could--alas, +alas! barely five-and-twenty years' acquaintance with literature and its +ornaments, and the brilliant catalogue is but a _Momento Mori_! Perhaps +of all this list, Maria Edgworth's life was the happiest; simply because +she was the most retired, the least exposed to the gaze and observation +of the world, the most occupied by loving duties toward the most united +circle of old and young we ever saw assembled in one happy home. + +The very young have never, perhaps read one of the tales of a lady whose +reputation, as a novelist, was in its zenith when Walter Scott published +his first novel. We desire to place a chaplet upon the grave of a woman +once "celebrated" all over the known world; yet who drew all her +happiness from the lovingness of home and friends, while her life was as +pure as her renown was extensive. + +In our own childhood romance reading was prohibited, but earnest +entreaty procured an exception in favor of the "Scottish Chiefs." It was +the bright summer, and we read it by moonlight, only disturbed by the +murmur of the distant ocean. We read it, crouched in the deep recess of +the nursery window; we read it until moonlight and morning met, and the +breakfast bell ringing out into the soft air from the old gable, found +us at the end of the fourth volume. Dear old times! when it would have +been deemed little less than sacrilege to crush a respectable romance +into a shilling volume, and our mammas considered _only_ a five volume +story curtailed of its just proportions. + +Sir William Wallace has never lost his heroic ascendency over us, and we +have steadily resisted every temptation to open the "popular edition" of +the long-loved romance, lest what people will call "the improved state +of the human mind," might displace the sweet memory of the mingled +admiration and indignation that chased each other, while we read and +wept, without ever questioning the truth of the absorbing narrative. + +Yet, the "Scottish Chiefs" scarcely achieved the popularity of "Thaddeus +of Warsaw," the first romance originated by the active brain and +singularly constructive power of Jane Porter, produced at an almost +girlish age. + +The hero of "Thaddeus of Warsaw" was really Kosciuszko, the beloved +pupil of George Washington, the grandest and purest patriot the Modern +World has known. The enthusiastic girl was moved to its composition by +the stirring times in which she lived; and a personal observation of, +and acquaintance with some of those brave men whose struggles for +liberty only ceased with their exile, or their existence. + +Miss Porter placed her standard of excellence on high ground, and--all +gentle-spirited as was her nature--it was firm and unflinching toward +what she believed the right and true. We must not, therefore, judge her +by the depressed state of "feeling" in these times, when its +demonstration is looked upon as artificial or affected. Toward the +termination of the last and the commencement of the present century, the +world was roused into an interest and enthusiasm, which now we can +scarcely appreciate or account for; the sympathies of England were +awakened by the terrible revolutions of France, and the desolation of +Poland; as a principle, we hated Napoleon, though he had neither act nor +part in the doings of the democrats; and the sea-songs of Dibdin, which +our youth _now_ would call uncouth and ungraceful rhymes, were key-notes +to public feeling; the English of that time were thoroughly "awake," +the British Lion had not slumbered through a thirty years' peace. We +were a nation of soldiers and sailors, and patriots; not of mingled +cotton-spinners and railway speculators and angry protectionists; we do +not say which state of things is best or worst, we desire merely to +account for what may be called the taste for _heroic_ literature at that +time, and the taste for--we really hardly know what to call +it--literature of the present, made up, as it too generally is, of +shreds and patches--bits of gold and bits of tinsel--things written in a +hurry to be read in a hurry, and never thought of afterward--suggestive +rather than reflective, at the best; and we must plead guilty to a too +great proneness to underrate what our fathers probably overrated. + +At all events we must bear in mind, while reading or thinking over Miss +Porter's novels, that, in her day, even the exaggeration of enthusiasm +was considered good tone and good taste. How this enthusiasm was +_fostered_, not subdued, can be gathered by the author's ingenious +preface to the, we believe, tenth edition of "Thaddeus of Warsaw." + +This story brought her abundant honors, and rendered her society, as +well as the society of her sister and brother, sought for by all who +aimed at a reputation for taste and talent. Mrs. Porter, on her +husband's death (he was the younger son of a well-connected Irish +family, born in Ireland, in or near Coleraine, we believe, and a major +in the Enniskillen dragoons), sought a residence for her family in +Edinburgh, where education and good society are attainable to persons of +moderate fortunes, if they are "well born;" but the extraordinary +artistic skill of her son Robert required a wider field, and she brought +her children to London sooner than she had intended, that his promising +talents might be cultivated. We believe the greater part of "Thaddeus of +Warsaw" was written in London, either in St. Martin's-lane, +Newport-street, or Gerard-street, Soho (for in these three streets the +family lived after their arrival in the metropolis); though as soon as +Robert Ker Porter's abilities floated him on the stream, his mother and +sisters retired, in the brightness of their fame and beauty, to the +village of Thames Ditton, a residence they loved to speak of as their +"home." The actual labor of "Thaddeus"--her first novel--must have been +considerable; for testimony was frequently borne to the fidelity of its +localities, and Poles refused to believe that the author had not visited +Poland; indeed, she had a happy power in describing localities. + +It was on the publication of Miss Porter's two first works in the German +language that their author was honored by being made a Lady of the +Chapter of St. Joachim, and received the gold cross of the order from +Wurtemberg; but "The Scottish Chiefs" was never so popular on the +continent as "Thaddeus of Warsaw," although Napoleon honored it with an +interdict, to prevent its circulation in France. If Jane Porter owed +her Polish inspirations so peculiarly to the tone of the times in which +she lived, she traces back, in her introduction to the latest edition of +"The Scottish Chiefs," her enthusiasm in the cause of Sir William +Wallace to the influence of an old "Scotch wife's" tales and ballads +produced upon her mind while in early childhood. She wandered amid what +she describes as "beautiful green banks," which rose in natural terraces +behind her mother's house, and where a cow and a few sheep occasionally +fed. This house stood alone, at the head of a little square, near the +high school; the distinguished Lord Elchies formerly lived in the house, +which was very ancient, and from those green banks it commanded a fine +view of the Firth of Forth. While gathering "_gowans_" or other wild +flowers for her infant sister (whom she loved more dearly than her life, +during the years they lived in most tender and affectionate +companionship), she frequently encountered this aged woman with her +knitting in her hand; and she would speak to the eager and intelligent +child of the blessed quiet of the land, where the cattle were browsing +without fear of an enemy; and then she would talk of the awful times of +the brave Sir William Wallace, when he fought for Scotland "against a +cruel tyrant; like unto them whom Abraham overcame when he recovered +Lot, with all his herds and flocks, from the proud foray of the robber +kings of the South," who, she never failed to add, "were all rightly +punished for oppressing the stranger in a foreign land! for the Lord +careth for the stranger." Miss Porter says that this woman never omitted +mingling pious allusions with her narrative, "Yet she was a person of +low degree, dressed in a coarse woolen gown, and a plain _Mutch_ cap +clasped under the chin with a silver brooch, which her father had worn +at the battle of Culloden." Of course she filled with tales of Sir +William Wallace and the Bruce, the listening ears of the lovely Saxon +child who treasured them in her heart and brain, until they fructified +in after years into the "Scottish Chiefs." To these two were added "The +Pastor's Fireside," and a number of other tales and romances; she +contributed to several annuals and magazines, and always took pains to +keep up the reputation she had won, achieving a large share of the +popularity, to which, as an author, she never looked for happiness. No +one could be more alive to praise or more grateful for attention, but +the heart of a genuine, pure, loving woman, beat within Jane Porter's +bosom, and she was never drawn _out_ of her domestic circle by the +flattery that has spoiled so many, men as well as women. Her mind was +admirably balanced by her home affections, which remained unsullied and +unshaken to the end of her days. She had, in common with her three +brothers and her charming sister, the advantage of a wise and loving +mother--a woman pious without cant, and worldly-wise without being +worldly. Mrs. Porter was born at Durham, and when very young bestowed +her hand and heart on Major Porter; an old friend of the family assures +us that two or three of their children were born in Ireland, and that +certainly Jane was among the number;[B] although she left Ireland when +in early youth, perhaps almost an infant, she certainly must be +considered "Irish," as her father was so both by birth and descent, and +esteemed during his brief life as a brave and generous gentleman; he +died young, leaving his lovely widow in straightened circumstances, +having only her widow's pension to depend on. The eldest son--afterward +Colonel Porter--was sent to school by his grandfather. + +We have glanced briefly at Sir Robert Ker Porter's wonderful talents, +and Anna Maria, when in her twelfth year, rushed, as Jane acknowledged, +"prematurely into print." Of Anna Maria we knew personally but very +little; enough, however, to recall with a pleasant memory her readiness +in conversation, and her bland and cheerful manners. No two sisters +could have been more different in bearing and appearance: Maria was a +delicate blonde, with a _riant_ face, and an animated manner--we had +said almost _peculiarly Irish_--rushing at conclusions, where her more +thoughtful and careful sister paused to consider and calculate. The +beauty of Jane was statuesque, her deportment serious yet cheerful, a +seriousness quite as natural as her younger sister's gayety; they both +labored diligently, but Anna Maria's labor was sport when compared to +her elder sister's careful toil; Jane's mind was of a more lofty order, +she was intense, and felt more than she said, while Anna Maria often +said more than she felt; they were a delightful contrast, and yet the +harmony between them was complete; and one of the happiest days we ever +spent, while trembling on the threshold of literature, was with them at +their pretty road-side cottage, in the village of Esher, before the +death of their venerable and dearly-beloved mother, whose rectitude and +prudence had both guided and sheltered their youth, and who lived to +reap with them the harvest of their industry and exertion. We remember +the drive there, and the anxiety as to how those very "clever ladies" +would look, and what they would say; we talked over the various letters +we had received from Jane, and thought of the cordial invitation to +their cottage--their "mother's cottage"--as they always called it. We +remember the old white friendly spaniel who looked at us with blinking +eyes, and preceded us up-stairs; we remember the formal, old-fashioned +courtesy of the venerable old lady, who was then nearly eighty--the blue +ribbons and good-natured frankness of Anna Maria, and the noble courtesy +of Jane, who received visitors as if she granted an audience; this +manner was natural to her; it was only the manner of one whose thoughts +have dwelt more on heroic deeds, and lived more with heroes than with +actual living men and women; the effect of this, however, soon passed +away, but not so the fascination which was in all she said and did. Her +voice was soft and musical, and her conversation addressed to one person +rather than to the company at large, while Maria talked rapidly to every +one, or _for_ every one who chose to listen. How happily the hours +passed! we were shown some of those extraordinary drawings of Sir +Robert, who gained an artist's reputation before he was twenty, and +attracted the attention of West and Shee[C] in his mere boyhood. We +heard all the interesting particulars of his panoramic picture of the +Storming of Seringapatam, which, the first of its class, was known half +over the world. We must not, however, be misunderstood--there was +neither personal nor family egotism in the Porters; they invariably +spoke of each other with the tenderest affection--but unless the +conversation was _forced_ by their friends, they never mentioned their +own, or each other's works, while they were most ready to praise what +was excellent in the works of others; they spoke with pleasure of their +sojourns in London; while their mother said, it was much wiser and +better for young ladies who were not rich, to live quietly in the +country, and escape the temptations of luxury and display. At that time +the "young ladies" seemed to us certainly _not_ young; that was about +two-and-twenty years ago, and Jane Porter was seventy-five when she +died. They talked much of their previous dwelling at Thames Ditton, of +the pleasant neighborhood they enjoyed there, though their mother's +health and their own had much improved since their residence on +Esher-hill; their little garden was bounded at the back by the beautiful +park of Claremont, and the front of the house overlooked the leading +roads, broken as they are by the village green, and some noble elms. The +view is crowned by the high trees of Esher-place, opening from the +village on that side of the brow of the hill. Jane pointed out the +_locale_ of the proud Cardinal Wolsey's domain, inhabited during the +days of his power over Henry VIII., and in their cloudy evening, when +that capricious monarch's favor changed to bitterest hate. It was the +very spot to foster her high romance, while she could at the same time +enjoy the sweets of that domestic converse she loved best of all. We +were prevented by the occupations and heart-beatings of our own literary +labors from repeating this visit; and in 1831, four years after these +well-remembered hours, the venerable mother of a family so distinguished +in literature and art, rendering their names known and honored wherever +art and letters flourish, was called HOME. The sisters, who had resided +ten years at Esher, left it, intending to sojourn for a time with their +second brother, Doctor Porter, (who commenced his career as a surgeon in +the navy) in Bristol; but within a year the youngest, the +light-spirited, bright-hearted Anna Maria died: her sister was +dreadfully shaken by her loss, and the letters we received from her +after this bereavement, though containing the outpourings of a sorrowing +spirit, were full of the certainty of that reunion hereafter which +became the hope of her life. She soon resigned her cottage home at +Esher, and found the affectionate welcome she so well deserved in many +homes, where friends vied with each other to fill the void in her +sensitive heart. She was of too wise a nature, and too sympathizing a +habit, to shut out new interests and affections, but her _old ones_ +never withered, nor were they ever replaced; were the love of such a +sister-friend--the watchful tenderness and uncompromising love of a +mother--ever "replaced," to a lonely sister or a bereaved daughter! Miss +Porter's pen had been laid aside for some time, when suddenly she came +before the world as the editor of "Sir Edward Seward's Narrative," and +set people hunting over old atlases to find out the island where he +resided. The whole was a clever fiction; yet Miss Porter never confided +its authorship, we believe, beyond her family circle; perhaps the +correspondence and documents, which are in the hands of one of her +kindest friends (her executor), Mr. Shepherd, may throw some light upon +a subject which the "Quarterly" honored by an article. We think the +editor certainly used her pen, as well as her judgment, in the work, and +we have imagined that it might have been written by the family circle, +more in sport than in earnest, and then produced to serve a double +purpose. + +After her sister's death Miss Jane Porter was afflicted with so severe +an illness, that we, in common with her other friends, thought it +impossible she could carry out her plan of journeying to St. Petersburgh +to visit her brother, Sir Robert Ker Porter, who had been long united to +a Russian princess, and was then a widower; her strength was fearfully +reduced; her once round figure become almost spectral, and little beyond +the placid and dignified expression of her noble countenance remained to +tell of her former beauty; but her resolve was taken; she wished, she +said, to see once more her youngest and most beloved brother, so +distinguished in several careers, almost deemed incompatible--as a +painter, an author, a soldier, and a diplomatist, and nothing could turn +her from her purpose: she reached St. Petersburgh in safety, and with +apparently improved health, found her brother as much courted and +beloved there as in his own land, and his daughter married to a Russian +of high distinction. Sir Robert longed to return to England. He did not +complain of any illness, and every thing was arranged for their +departure; his final visits were paid, all but one to the Emperor, who +had ever treated him as a friend; the day before his intended journey he +went to the palace, was graciously received, and then drove home, but +when the servant opened the carriage-door at his own residence he was +dead! One sorrow after another pressed heavily upon her, yet she was +still the same sweet, gentle, holy-minded woman she had ever been, +bending with Christian faith to the will of the Almighty--"biding her +time." + +[Illustration: JANE PORTER'S COTTAGE AT ESHER.] + +How differently would she have "watched and waited" had she been tainted +by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of "literary +reputation." While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the success +of those who scramble up--where she bore the standard to the heights--of +Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing some literary +"Tyro" to those who could aid or advise a future career. We can speak +from experience of the warm interest she took in the Hospital for the +cure of Consumption, and the Governesses' Benevolent Institution; during +the progress of the latter, her health was painfully feeble, yet she +used personal influence for its success, and worked with her own hands +for its bazaars. She was ever aiding those who could not aid themselves; +and all her thoughts, words, and deeds, were evidence of her clear, +powerful mind, and kindly loving heart; her appearance in the London +_coteries_ was always hailed with interest and pleasure; to the young +she was especially affectionate; but it was in the quiet mornings, or in +the long twilight evenings of summer, when visiting her cherished +friends at Shirley Park, in Kensington-square, or wherever she might be +located for the time--it was then that her former spirit revived and she +poured forth anecdote and illustration, and the store of many years' +observation, filtered by experience and purified by that delightful +faith to which she held--that "all things work together for good to them +that love the Lord." She held this in practice, even more than in +theory: you saw her chastened yet hopeful spirit beaming forth from her +gentle eyes, and her sweet smile can never be forgotten. The last time +we saw her, was about two years ago--in Bristol--at her brother, Dr. +Porter's house in Portland-square: then she could hardly stand without +assistance, yet she never complained of her own suffering or +feebleness--all her anxiety was about the brother--then dangerously ill, +and now the last of "his race." Major Porter, it will be remembered, +left five children, and these have left only one descendant--the +daughter of Sir Robert Ker Porter and the Russian Princess whom he +married, a young Russian lady, whose present name we do not even know. + +We did not think at our last leave-taking that Miss Porter's fragile +frame could have so long withstood the Power that takes away all we hold +most dear; but her spirit was at length summoned, after a few days' +total insensibility, on the 24th of May. + +We were haunted by the idea that the pretty cottage at Esher, where we +spent those happy hours, had been treated even as "Mrs. Porter's +Arcadia" at Thames Ditton--now altogether removed; and it was with a +melancholy pleasure we found it the other morning in nothing changed; it +was almost impossible to believe that so many years had passed since our +last visit. While Mr. Fairholt was sketching the cottage, we knocked at +the door, and were kindly permitted by two gentle sisters, who now +inhabit it, to enter the little drawing-room and walk round the garden; +except that the drawing-room has been re-papered and painted, and that +there were no drawings and no flowers, the room was not in the least +altered; yet to us it seemed like a sepulchre, and we rejoiced to +breathe the sweet air of the little garden, and listen to a nightingale, +whose melancholy cadence harmonized with our feelings. + +"Whenever you are at Esher," said the devoted daughter, the last time we +conversed with her, "do visit my mother's tomb." We did so. A cypress +flourishes at the head of the grave; and the following touching +inscription is carved on the stone: + + HERE SLEEPS IN JESUS A CHRISTIAN WIDOW + + JANE PORTER + OBIIT JUNE 18TH, 1831, ÆTAT. 86; + + THE BELOVED MOTHER OF + W. PORTER, M.D., OF SIR ROBERT KER PORTER, + AND OF JANE AND ANNA MARIA PORTER, + WHO MOURN IN HOPE, HUMBLY TRUSTING TO BE BORN + AGAIN WITH HER UNTO THE BLESSED KINGDOM + OF THEIR LORD AND SAVIOUR. + RESPECT HER GRAVE, FOR SHE MINISTERED TO THE POOR + +[Illustration] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] In support of this opinion, which we know is opposed to the popular +feeling of many in the present day, we venture to quote what Miss Porter +herself repeats, as said to her by Madame de Stael: "She frequently +praised my revered mother for the retired manner in which she maintained +her little domestic establishment, _yielding her daughters to society, +but not to the world_." We pray those we love, to mark the delicate and +most true distinction, between "society" and the "world." "I was set on +a stage," continued De Stael, "I was set on a stage, at a child's age, +to be listened to as a wit and worshiped for my premature judgment. I +drank adulation as my soul's nourishment, _and I cannot now live without +its poison; it has been my bane_, never an aliment. My heart ever sighed +for happiness, and I ever lost it, when I thought it approaching my +grasp. I was admired, made an idol, _but never beloved_. I do not accuse +my parents for having made this mistake, but I have not repeated it in +my Albertine" (her daughter.) "She shall not + + 'Seek for love, and fill her arms with bays.' + +I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade." + +[B] Miss Porter never told me she was an Irishwoman, but once she +questioned me concerning my own parentage and place of birth; and upon +my explaining that my mother was an English woman, my father Irish, and +that I was born in Ireland, which I quitted early in life, she observed +_her own circumstances were very similar to mine_. For my own part, I +have no doubt that she was Irish by birth and by descent on the father's +side, but it will be no difficult matter to obtain direct evidence of +the facts; and we hope that some Irish patriotic friend will make due +inquiries on the subject. During her life, I had no idea of her +connection with Ireland, or I should certainly have ascertained if my +own country had a claim of which it may be justly proud. + +[C] In his early days the President of the Royal Academy painted a very +striking portrait of Jane Porter, as "Miranda," and Harlowe painted her +in the canoness dress of the order of St. Joachim. + + + + +[From the Gallery of Nature.] + +SHOOTING STARS AND METEORIC SHOWERS. + + +[Illustration] + +From every region of the globe and in all ages of time within the range +of history, exhibitions of apparent instability in the heavens have been +observed, when the curtains of the evening have been drawn. Suddenly, a +line of light arrests the eye, darting like an arrow through a varying +extent of space, and in a moment the firmament is as sombre as before. +The appearance is exactly that of a star falling from its sphere, and +hence the popular title of shooting star applied to it. The apparent +magnitudes of these meteorites are widely different, and also their +brilliancy. Occasionally, they are far more resplendent than the +brightest of the planets, and throw a very perceptible illumination upon +the path of the observer. A second or two commonly suffices for the +individual display, but in some instances it has lasted several minutes. +In every climate it is witnessed, and at all times of the year, but most +frequently in the autumnal months. As far back as records go, we meet +with allusions to these swift and evanescent luminous travelers. +Minerva's hasty flight from the peaks of Olympus to break the truce +between the Greeks and Trojans, is compared by Homer to the emission of +a brilliant star. Virgil, in the first book of the Georgics, mentions +the shooting stars as prognosticating weather changes: + + "And on, before tempestuous winds arise, + The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies, + And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night + With sweeping glories and long trains of light." + +Various hypotheses have been framed to explain the nature and origin of +these remarkable appearances. When electricity began to be understood, +this was thought to afford a satisfactory explanation, and the shooting +stars were regarded by Beccaria and Vassali as merely electrical sparks. +When the inflammable nature of the gases became known, Lavosier and +Volta supposed an accumulation of hydrogen in the higher regions of the +atmosphere, because of its inferior density, giving rise by ignition to +the meteoric exhibitions. While these theories of the older philosophers +have been shown to be untenable, there is still great obscurity resting +upon the question, though we have reason to refer the phenomena to a +cause exterior to the bounds of our atmosphere. Upon this ground, the +subject assumes a strictly astronomical aspect, and claims a place in a +treatise on the economy of the solar system. + +The first attempt accurately to investigate these elegant meteors was +made by two university students, afterward Professors Brandes of +Leipsic, and Benzenberg of Dusseldorf, in the year 1798. They selected a +base line of 46,200 feet, somewhat less than nine English miles, and +placed themselves at its extremities on appointed nights, for the +purpose of ascertaining their average altitude and velocity. Out of +twenty-two appearances identified as the same, they found, + + 7 under 45 miles + 9 between 45 and 90 miles + 5 above 90 miles + 1 above 140 miles. + +The greatest observed velocity gave twenty-five miles in a second. A +more extensive plan was organized by Brandes in the year 1823, and +carried into effect in the neighborhood of Breslaw. Out of ninety-eight +appearances, the computed heights were, + + 4 under 15 miles + 15 from 15 to 30 miles + 22 from 30 to 45 miles + 33 from 45 to 70 miles + 13 from 70 to 90 miles + 6 above 90 miles + 5 from 140 to 460 miles. + +The velocities were between eighteen and thirty-six miles in a second, +an average velocity far greater than that of the earth in its orbit. + +The rush of luminous bodies through the sky of a more extraordinary +kind, though a rare occurrence, has repeatedly been observed. They are +usually discriminated from shooting stars, and known by the vulgar as +fire-balls; but probably both proceed from the same cause, and are +identical phenomena. They have sometimes been seen of large volume, +giving an intense light, a hissing noise accompanying their progress, +and a loud explosion attending their termination. In the year 1676, a +meteor passed over Italy about two hours after sunset, upon which +Montanari wrote a treatise. It came over the Adriatic Sea as if from +Dalmatia, crossed the country in the direction of Rimini and Leghorn, a +loud report being heard at the latter place, and disappeared upon the +sea toward Corsica. A similar visitor was witnessed all over England, in +1718, and forms the subject of one of Halley's papers to the Royal +Society. Sir Hans Sloane was one of its spectators. Being abroad at the +time of its appearance, at a quarter past eight at night, in the streets +of London, his path was suddenly and intensely illuminated. This, he +apprehended at first, might arise from a discharge of rockets; but found +a fiery object in the heavens, moving after the manner of a falling +star, in a direct line from the Pleiades to below the girdle of Orion. +Its brightness was so vivid, that several times he was obliged to turn +away his eyes from it. The stars disappeared, and the moon, then nine +days old, and high near the meridian, the sky being very clear, was so +effaced by the lustre of the meteor as to be scarcely seen. It was +computed to have passed over three hundred geographical miles in a +minute, at the distance of sixty miles above the surface, and was +observed at different extremities of the kingdom. The sound of an +explosion was heard through Devon and Cornwall, and along the opposite +coast of Bretagne. Halley conjectured this and similar displays to +proceed from combustible vapors aggregated on the outskirts of the +atmosphere, and suddenly set on fire by some unknown cause. But since +his time, the fact has been established, of the actual fall of heavy +bodies to the earth from surrounding space, which requires another +hypothesis. To these bodies the term aërolites is applied, signifying +atmospheric stones, from αηρ, the atmosphere, and λιθος, a stone. While +many meteoric appearances may simply arise from electricity, or from the +inflammable gases, it is now certain, from the proved descent of +aërolites, that such bodies are of extra-terrestrial origin. + +Antiquity refers us to several objects as having descended from the +skies, the gifts of the immortal gods. Such was the Palladium of Troy, +the image of the goddess of Ephesus, and the sacred shield of Numa. The +folly of the ancients in believing such narrations has often been the +subject of remark; but, however fabulous the particular cases referred +to, the moderns have been compelled to renounce their skepticism +respecting the fact itself, of the actual transition of substances from +celestial space to terrestrial regions; and no doubt the ancient faith +upon this subject was founded on observed events. The following table, +taken from the work of M. Izarn, _Des Pierres tombées du Ciel_, exhibits +a collection of instances of the fall of aërolites, together with the +eras of their descent, and the persons on whose evidence the facts rest; +but the list might be largely extended. + + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Substance. |Place. |Period. |Authority. | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Under Tullus |Livy. | + | | | Hostilius | | + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Consuls C. Martius |J. Obsequens. | + | | | and M. Torquatus | | + |Shower of iron |In Lucania |Year before the |Pliny. | + | | | defeat of Crassus | | + |Shower of mercury |In Italy | |Dion. | + |Large stone |Near the river |Second year of the |Pliny. | + | | Negos, Thrace | 78th Olympiad | | + |Three large stones |In Thrace |Year before J. C. |Ch. of Count | + | | | 452 | Marcellin. | + |Shower of fire |At Quesnoy |January 4, 1717 |Geoffroy le | + | | | | Cadet. | + |Stone of 72lbs. |Near Larissa, |January 1706 |Paul Lucas. | + | | Macedonia | | | + |About 1200 stones } | | | | + | --one of 120lbs.} |Near Padua in |In 1510 |Carden, Varcit. | + |Another of 60lbs. } | Italy | | | + |Another of 59lbs. |On Mount Vasier, |November 27, 1627 |Gassendi. | + | | Provence | | | + |Shower of sand for |In the Atlantic |April 6, 1719 |Père la Fuillée. | + | 15 hours | | | | + |Shower of sulphur |Sodom and Gomorra | |Moses. | + |Sulphurous rain |In the Duchy of |In 1658 |Spangenburgh. | + | | Mansfield | | | + |The same |Copenhagen |In 1646 |Olaus Wormius. | + |Shower of sulphur |Brunswick |October 1721 |Siegesbær. | + |Shower of unknown |Ireland |In 1695 |Muschenbroeck. | + | matter | | | | + |Two large stones, |Liponas, in |September 1753 |Lalande. | + | weighing 20lbs. | Bresse | | | + |A stony mass |Niort, Normandy |In 1750 |Lalande. | + |A stone of |At Luce, in Le |September 13, 1768 |Bachelay. | + | 7-1/2lbs. | Maine | | | + |A stone |At Aire, in |In 1768 |Gursonde de | + | | Artois | | Boyaval. | + |A stone |In Le Cotentin |In 1768 |Morand. | + |Extensive shower |Environs of Agen |July 24, 1790 |St. Amand, | + | of stones | | | Baudin, &c. | + |About twelve stones |Sienna, Tuscany |July 1794 |Earl of Bristol. | + |A large stone of |Wold Cottage, |December 13, 1795 |Captain Topham. | + | 56lbs. | Yorkshire | | | + |A stone of about |Sale, Department |March 17, 1798 |Lelievre and De | + | 20lbs. | of the Rhone | | Drée. | + |A stone of 10lbs. |In Portugal |February 19, 1796 |Southey. | + |Shower of stones |Benares, East |December 19, 1798 |J. Lloyd | + | | Indies | | Williams, Esq. | + |Shower of stones |At Plaun, near |July 3, 1753 |B. de Born. | + | | Tabor, Bohemia | | | + |Mass of iron, |America |April 5, 1800 |Philosophical | + | 70 cubic feet | | | Mag. | + |Mass of iron, |Abakauk, Siberia |Very old |Pallas, Chladni, | + | 14 quintals | | | &c. | + |Shower of stones |Barboutan, near |July 1789 |Darcet Jun., | + | | Roquefort | | Lomet, &c. | + |Large stone of |Ensisheim, Upper |November 7, 1492 |Butenschoen. | + | 260lbs. | Rhine | | | + |Two stones, 200 |Near Verona |In 1762 |Acad. de Bourd. | + | and 300lbs. | | | | + |A stone of 20lbs. |Sules, near Ville |March 12, 1798 |De Drée. | + | | Franche | | | + |Several stones from |Near L'Aigle, |April 26, 1803 |Fourcroy. | + | 10 to 17lbs. | Normandy | | | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + +Some of the instances in the table are of sufficient interest to deserve +a notice. + +A singular relation respecting the stone of Ensisheim on the Rhine, at +which philosophy once smiled incredulously, regarding it as one of the +romances of the middle ages, may now be admitted to sober attention as a +piece of authentic history. A homely narrative of its fall was drawn up +at the time by order of the Emperor Maximilian, and deposited with the +stone in the church. It may thus be rendered: "In the year of the Lord +1492, on Wednesday, which was Martinmas eve, the 7th of November, a +singular miracle occurred; for, between eleven o'clock and noon, there +was a loud clap of thunder, and a prolonged confused noise, which was +heard at a great distance; and a stone fell from the air, in the +jurisdiction of Ensisheim, which weighed two hundred and sixty pounds, +and the confused noise was, besides, much louder than here. Then a child +saw it strike on a field in the upper jurisdiction, toward the Rhine and +Inn, near the district of Giscano, which was sown with wheat, and it did +it no harm, except that it made a hole there: and then they conveyed it +from that spot; and many pieces were broken from it; which the landvogt +forbade. They, therefore, caused it to be placed in the church, with the +intention of suspending it as a miracle: and there came here many people +to see this stone. So there were remarkable conversations about this +stone: but the learned said that they knew not what it was; for it was +beyond the ordinary course of nature that such a large stone should +smite the earth from the height of the air; but that it was really a +miracle of God; for, before that time, never any thing was heard like +it, nor seen, nor described. When they found that stone, it had entered +into the earth to the depth of a man's stature, which every body +explained to be the will of God that it should be found; and the noise +of it was heard at Lucerne, at Vitting, and in many other places, so +loud that it was believed that houses had been overturned: and as the +King Maximilian was here the Monday after St. Catharine's day of the +same year, his royal excellency ordered the stone which had fallen to be +brought to the castle, and, after having conversed a long time about it +with the noblemen, he said that the people of Ensisheim should take it, +and order it to be hung up in the church, and not to allow any body to +take any thing from it. His excellency, however, took two pieces of it; +of which he kept one, and sent the other to the Duke Sigismund of +Austria: and they spoke a great deal about this stone, which they +suspended in the choir, where it still is; and a great many people came +to see it." Contemporary writers confirm the substance of this +narration, and the evidence of the fact exists; the aërolite is +precisely identical in its chemical composition with that of other +meteoric stones. It remained for three centuries suspended in the +church, was carried off to Colmar during the French revolution; but has +since been restored to its former site, and Ensisheim rejoices in the +possession of the relic. A piece broken from it is in the Museum of the +_Jardin des Plantes_ at Paris. + +The celebrated Gassendi was an eye-witness of a similar event. In the +year 1627, on the 27th of November, the sky being quite clear, he saw a +burning stone fall in the neighborhood of Nice, and examined the mass. +While in the air it appeared to be about four feet in diameter, was +surrounded by a luminous circle of colors like a rainbow, and its fall +was accompanied by a noise like the discharge of artillery. Upon +inspecting the substance, he found it weighed 59 lbs., was extremely +hard, of a dull, metallic color, and of a specific gravity considerably +greater than that of common marble. Having only this solitary instance +of such an occurrence, Gassendi concluded that the mass came from some +of the mountains of Provence, which had been in a transient state of +volcanic activity. Instances of the same phenomenon occurred in the +years 1672, 1756, and 1768; but the facts were generally doubted by +naturalists, and considered as electrical appearances, magnified by +popular ignorance and timidity. A remarkable example took place in +France in the year 1790. Between nine and ten o'clock at night, on the +24th of July, a luminous ball was seen traversing the atmosphere with +great rapidity, and leaving behind it a train of light; a loud explosion +was then heard, accompanied with sparks which flew off in all +directions; this was followed by a shower of stones over a considerable +extent of ground, at various distances from each other, and of different +sizes. A _procès verbal_ was drawn up, attesting the circumstance, +signed by the magistrates of the municipality, and by several hundreds +of persons inhabiting the district. This curious document is literally +as follows: "In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety, and the +thirtieth day of the month of August, we, the Lieut. Jean Duby, mayor, +and Louis Massillon, procurator of the commune of the municipality of La +Grange-de-Juillac, and Jean Darmite, resident in the parish of La +Grange-de-Juillac, certify in truth and verity, that on Saturday, the +24th of July last, between nine and ten o'clock, there passed a great +fire, and after it we heard in the air a very loud and extraordinary +noise; and about two minutes after there fell stones from heaven; but +fortunately there fell only a very few, and they fell about ten paces +from one another in some places, and in others nearer, and, finally, in +some other places farther; and falling, most of them, of the weight of +about half a quarter of a pound each, some others of about half a pound, +like that found in our parish of La Grange; and on the borders of the +parish of Creon, they were found of a pound weight; and in falling, they +seemed not to be inflamed, but very hard and black without, and within +of the color of steel: and, thank God, they occasioned no harm to the +people, nor to the trees, but only to some tiles which were broken on +the houses; and most of them fell gently, and others fell quickly, with +a hissing noise; and some were found which had entered into the earth, +but very few. In witness thereof, we have written and signed these +presents. Duby, mayor. Darmite." Though such a document as this, coming +from the unlearned of the district where the phenomenon occurred, was +not calculated to win acceptance with the _savans_ of the French +capital, yet it was corroborated by a host of intelligent witnesses at +Bayonne, Thoulouse, and Bordeaux, and by transmitted specimens +containing the substances usually found in atmospheric stones, and in +nearly the same proportions. A few years afterward, an undoubted +instance of the fall of an aërolite occurred in England, which largely +excited public curiosity. This was in the neighborhood of Wold Cottage, +the house of Captain Topham, in Yorkshire. Several persons heard the +report of an explosion in the air, followed by a hissing sound; and +afterward felt a shock, as if a heavy body had fallen to the ground at a +little distance from them. One of these, a plowman, saw a huge stone +falling toward the earth, eight or nine yards from the place where he +stood. It threw up the mould on every side, and after penetrating +through the soil, lodged some inches deep in solid chalk rock. Upon +being raised, the stone was found to weigh fifty-six pounds. It fell in +the afternoon of a mild but hazy day, during which there was no thunder +or lightning; and the noise of the explosion was heard through a +considerable district. It deserves remark, that in most recorded cases +of the descent of projectiles, the weather has been settled, and the sky +clear; a fact which plainly places them apart from the causes which +operate to produce the tempest, and shows the popular term thunder-bolt +to be an entire misnomer. + +While this train of circumstances was preparing the philosophic mind of +Europe to admit as a truth what had hitherto been deemed a vulgar error, +and acknowledge the appearance of masses of ignited matter in the +atmosphere occasionally descending to the earth, an account of a +phenomenon of this kind was received from India, vouched by an authority +calculated to secure it general respect. It came from Mr. Williams, +F.R.S., a resident in Bengal. It stated that on December 19th, 1798, at +eight o'clock in the evening, a large, luminous meteor was seen at +Benares and other parts of the country. It was attended with a loud, +rumbling noise, like an ill-discharged platoon of musketry; and about +the same time, the inhabitants of Krakhut, fourteen miles from Benares, +saw the light, heard an explosion, and immediately after the noise of +heavy bodies falling in the neighborhood. The sky had previously been +serene, and not the smallest vestige of a cloud had appeared for many +days. Next morning, the mould in the fields was found to have been +turned up in many spots; and unusual stones, of various sizes, but of +the same substance, were picked out from the moist soil, generally from +a depth of six inches. As the occurrence took place in the night, after +the people had retired to rest, the explosion and the actual fall of the +stones were not observed; but the watchman of an English gentleman, near +Krakhut, brought him a stone the next morning, which had fallen through +the top of his hut, and buried itself in the earthen floor. This event +in India was followed, in the year 1803, by a convincing demonstration +in France, which compelled the eminent men of the capital to believe, +though much against their will. On Tuesday, April 26th, about one in the +afternoon, the weather being serene, there was observed in a part of +Normandy, including Caen, Falaise, Alençon, and a large number of +villages, a fiery globe of great brilliancy moving in the atmosphere +with great rapidity. Some moments after, there was heard in L'Aigle and +in the environs, to the extent of more than thirty leagues in every +direction, a violent explosion, which lasted five or six minutes. At +first there were three or four reports, like those of a cannon, followed +by a kind of discharge which resembled the firing of musketry; after +which there was heard a rumbling like the beating of a drum. The air was +calm, and the sky serene, except a few clouds, such as are frequently +observed. The noise proceeded from a small cloud which had a rectangular +form, and appeared motionless all the time that the phenomenon lasted. +The vapor of which it was composed was projected in all directions at +the successive explosions. The cloud seemed about half a league to the +northeast of the town of L'Aigle, and must have been at a great +elevation in the atmosphere, for the inhabitants of two hamlets, a +league distant from each other, saw it at the same time above their +heads. In the whole canton over which it hovered, a hissing noise like +that of a stone discharged from a sling was heard, and a multitude of +mineral masses were seen to fall to the ground. The largest that fell +weighed 17-1/2 pounds; and the gross number amounted to nearly three +thousand. By the direction of the Academy of Sciences, all the +circumstances of this event were minutely examined by a commission of +inquiry, with the celebrated M. Biot at its head. They were found in +harmony with the preceding relation, and reported to the French minister +of the interior. Upon analyzing the stones, they were found identical +with those of Benares. + +The following are the principal facts with reference to the aërolites, +upon which general dependence may be placed. Immediately after their +descent they are always intensely hot. They are covered with a fused +black incrustation, consisting chiefly of oxide of iron; and, what is +most remarkable, their chemical analysis develops the same substances in +nearly the same proportions, though one may have reached the earth in +India and another in England. Their specific gravities are about the +same; considering 1000 as the proportionate number for the specific +gravity of water, that of some of the aërolites has been found to be, + + Ensisheim stone 3233 + Benares 3352 + Sienna 3418 + Gassendi's 3456 + Yorkshire 3508 + Bachelay's 3535 + Bohemia 4281. + +The greater specific gravity of the Bohemian stone arose from its +containing a greater proportion of iron. An analysis of one of the +stones that fell at L'Aigle gives: + + Silica 46 per cent + Magnesia 10 " + Iron 45 " + Nickel 2 " + Sulphur 5 " + Zinc 1 " + +Iron is found in all these bodies, and in a considerable quantity, with +the rare metal nickel. It is a singular fact, that though a chemical +examination of their composition has not discovered any substance with +which we were not previously acquainted, yet no other bodies have yet +been found, native to the earth, which contain the same ingredients +combined. Neither products of the volcanoes, whether extinct or in +action, nor the stratified or unstratified rocks, have exhibited a +sample of that combination of metallic and earthy substances which the +meteoric stones present. During the era that science has admitted their +path to the earth as a physical truth, scarcely amounting to half a +century, few years have elapsed without a known instance of descent +occurring in some region of the globe. To Izarn's list, previously +given, upward of seventy cases might be added, which have transpired +during the last forty years. A report relating to one of the most +recent, which fell in a valley near the Cape of Good Hope, with the +affidavits of the witnesses, was communicated to the Royal Society, by +Sir John Herschel, in March, 1840. Previously to the descent of the +aërolites, the usual sound of explosion was heard, and some of the +fragments falling upon grass, caused it instantly to smoke, and were too +hot to admit of being touched. When, however, we consider the wide range +of the ocean, and the vast unoccupied regions of the globe, its +mountains, deserts, and forests, we can hardly fail to admit that the +observed cases of descent must form but a small proportion of the actual +number; and obviously in countries upon which the human race are thickly +planted many may escape notice through descending in the night, and will +lie imbedded in the soil till some accidental circumstance exposes their +existence. Some, too, are no doubt completely fused and dissipated in +the atmosphere, while others move by us horizontally, as brilliant +lights, and pass into the depths of space. The volume of some of these +passing bodies is very great. One which traveled within twenty-five +miles of the surface, and cast down a fragment, was suppose to weigh +upward of half a million of tons. But for its great velocity, the whole +mass would have been precipitated to the earth. Two aërolites fell at +Braunau, in Bohemia, July 14, 1847. + +In addition to aërolites, properly so called, or bodies known to have +come to us from outlying space, large metallic masses exist in various +parts of the world, lying in insulated situations, far remote from the +abodes of civilization, whose chemical composition is closely analogous +to that of the substances the descent of which has been witnessed. These +circumstances leave no doubt as to their common origin. Pallas +discovered an immense mass of malleable iron, mixed with nickel, at a +considerable elevation on a mountain of slate in Siberia, a site plainly +irreconcilable with the supposition of art having been there with its +forges, even had it possessed the character of the common iron. In one +of the rooms of the British Museum there is a specimen of a large mass +which was found, and still remains, on the plain of Otumba, in the +district of Buenos Ayres. The specimen alone weighs 1400 lbs., and the +weight of the whole mass, which lies half buried in the ground, is +computed to be thirteen tons. In the province of Bahia, in Brazil, +another block has been discovered weighing upward of six tons. +Considering the situation of these masses, with the details of their +chemical analysis, the presumption is clearly warranted that they owe +their origin to the same causes that have formed and projected the +aërolites to the surface. With reference to the Siberian iron a general +tradition prevails among the Tartars that it formerly descended from the +heavens. A curious extract, translated from the Emperor Tchangire's +memoirs of his own reign is given in a paper communicated to the Royal +Society, which speaks of the fall of a metallic mass in India. The +prince relates, that in the year 1620 (of our era) a violent explosion +was heard at a village in the Punjaub, and at the same time a luminous +body fell through the air on the earth. The officer of the district +immediately repaired to the spot where it was said the body fell, and +having found the place to be still hot, he caused it to be dug. He found +that the heat kept increasing till they reached a lump of iron violently +hot. This was afterward sent to court, where the emperor had it weighed +in his presence, and ordered it to be forged into a sabre, a knife, and +a dagger. After a trial the workmen reported that it was not malleable, +but shivered under the hammer; and it required to be mixed with one +third part of common iron, after which the mass was found to make +excellent blades. The royal historian adds, that on the incident of this +_iron of lightning_ being manufactured, a poet presented him with a +distich that, "during his reign the earth attained order and regularity; +that raw iron fell from lightning, which was, by his world-subduing +authority, converted into a dagger, a knife, and two sabres." + +A multitude of theories have been devised to account for the origin of +these remarkable bodies. The idea is completely inadmissible that they +are concretions formed within the limits of the atmosphere. The +ingredients that enter into their composition have never been discovered +in it, and the air has been analyzed at the sea level and on the tops of +high mountains. Even supposing that to have been the case, the enormous +volume of atmospheric air so charged required to furnish the particles +of a mass of several tons, not to say many masses, is, alone, sufficient +to refute the notion. They can not, either, be projectiles from +terrestrial volcanoes, because coincident volcanic activity has not been +observed, and aërolites descend thousands of miles apart from the +nearest volcano, and their substances are discordant with any known +volcanic product. Laplace suggested their projection from lunar +volcanoes. It has been calculated that a projectile leaving the lunar +surface, where there is no atmospheric resistance, with a velocity of +7771 feet in the first second, would be carried beyond the point where +the forces of the earth and the moon are equal, would be detached, +therefore, from the satellite, and come so far within the sphere of the +earth's attraction as necessarily to fall to it. But the enormous number +of ignited bodies that have been visible, the shooting stars of all +ages, and the periodical meteoric showers that have astonished the +moderns, render this hypothesis untenable, for the moon, ere this, would +have undergone such a waste as must have sensibly diminished her orb, +and almost blotted her from the heavens. Olbers, was the first to prove +the possibility of a projectile reaching us from the moon, but at the +same he deemed the event highly improbable, regarding the satellite as a +very peaceable neighbor, not capable now of strong explosions from the +want of water and an atmosphere. The theory of Chladni will account +generally for all the phenomena, be attended with the fewest +difficulties, and, with some modifications to meet circumstances not +known in his day, it is now widely embraced. He conceived the system to +include an immense number of small bodies, either the scattered +fragments of a larger mass, or original accumulations of matter, which, +circulating round the sun, encounter the earth in its orbit, and are +drawn toward it by attraction, become ignited upon entering the +atmosphere, in consequence of their velocity, and constitute the +shooting stars, aërolites, and meteoric appearances that are observed. +Sir Humphry Davy, in a paper which contains his researches on flame, +strongly expresses an opinion that the meteorites are solid bodies +moving in space, and that the heat produced by the compression of the +most rarefied air from the velocity of their motion must be sufficient +to ignite their mass so that they are fused on entering the atmosphere. +It is estimated that a body moving through our atmosphere with the +velocity of one mile in a second, would extricate heat equal to 30,000° +of Fahrenheit--a heat more intense than that of the fiercest artificial +furnace that ever glowed. The chief modification given to the Chladnian +theory has arisen from the observed periodical occurrence of meteoric +showers--a brilliant and astonishing exhibition--to some notices of +which we proceed. + +The writers of the middle ages report the occurrence of the stars +falling from heaven in resplendent showers among the physical +appearances of their time. The experience of modern days establishes the +substantial truth of such relations, however once rejected as the +inventions of men delighting in the marvelous. Conde, in his history of +the dominion of the Arabs, states, referring to the month of October in +the year 902 of our era, that on the night of the death of King Ibrahim +ben Ahmed, an infinite number of falling stars were seen to spread +themselves like rain over the heavens from right to left, and this year +was afterward called the year of stars. In some Eastern annals of Cairo, +it is related that "In this year (1029 of our era) in the month Redjeb +(August) many stars passed, with a great noise, and brilliant light;" +and in another place the same document states: "In the year 599, on +Saturday night, in the last Moharrem (1202 of our era, and on the 19th +of October), the stars appeared like waves upon the sky, toward the east +and west; they flew about like grasshoppers, and were dispersed from +left to right; this lasted till day-break; the people were alarmed." The +researches of the Orientalist, M. Von Hammer, have brought these +singular accounts to light. Theophanes, one of the Byzantine historians, +records, that in November of the year 472 the sky appeared to be on fire +over the city of Constantinople with the coruscations of flying meteors. +The chronicles of the West agree with those of the East in reporting +such phenomena. A remarkable display was observed on the 4th of April, +1095, both in France and England. The stars seemed, says one, "falling +like a shower of rain from heaven upon the earth;" and in another case, +a bystander, having noted the spot where an aërolite fell, "cast water +upon it, which was raised in steam, with a great noise of boiling." The +chronicle of Rheims describes the appearance, as if all the stars in +heaven were driven like dust before the wind. "By the reporte of the +common people, in this kynge's time (William Rufus)," says Rastel, +"divers great wonders were sene--and therefore the king was told by +divers of his familiars, that God was not content with his lyvyng, but +he was so wilful and proude of minde, that he regarded little their +saying." There can be no hesitation now in giving credence to such +narrations as these, since similar facts have passed under the notice of +the present generation. + +The first grand phenomena of a meteoric shower which attracted attention +in modern times was witnessed by the Moravian Missionaries at their +settlements in Greenland. For several hours the hemisphere presented a +magnificent and astonishing spectacle, that of fiery particles, thick as +hail, crowding the concave of the sky, as though some magazine of +combustion in celestial space was discharging its contents toward the +earth. This was observed over a wide extent of territory. Humboldt, then +traveling in South America, accompanied by M. Bonpland, thus speaks of +it: "Toward the morning of the 13th November, 1799, we witnessed a most +extraordinary scene of shooting meteors. Thousands of bodies and falling +stars succeeded each other during four hours. Their direction was very +regular from north to south. From the beginning of the phenomenon there +was not a space in the firmament equal in extent to three diameters of +the moon which was not filled every instant with bodies of falling +stars. All the meteors left luminous traces or phosphorescent bands +behind them, which lasted seven or eight seconds." An agent of the +United States, Mr. Ellicott, at that time at sea between Cape Florida +and the West India Islands, was another spectator, and thus describes +the scene: "I was called up about three o'clock in the morning, to see +the shooting stars, as they are called. The phenomenon was grand and +awful The whole heavens appeared as if illuminated with sky-rockets, +which disappeared only by the light of the sun after daybreak. The +meteors, which at any one instant of time appeared as numerous as the +stars, flew in all possible directions, except from the earth, toward +which they all inclined more or less; and some of them descended +perpendicularly over the vessel we were in, so that I was in constant +expectation of their falling on us." The same individual states that his +thermometer, which had been at 80° Fahr. for four days preceding, fell +to 56°, and, at the same time, the wind changed from the south to the +northwest, from whence it blew with great violence for three days +without intermission. The Capuchin missionary at San Fernando, a village +amid the savannahs of the province of Varinas, and the Franciscan monks +stationed near the entrance of the Oronoco, also observed this shower of +asteroids, which appears to have been visible, more or less, over an +area of several thousand miles, from Greenland to the equator, and from +the lonely deserts of South America to Weimar in Germany. About thirty +years previous, at the city of Quito, a similar event occurred. So great +a number of falling stars were seen in a part of the sky above the +volcano of Cayambaro, that the mountain itself was thought at first to +be on fire. The sight lasted more than an hour. The people assembled in +the plain of Exida, where a magnificent view presented itself of the +highest summits of the Cordilleras. A procession was already on the +point of setting out from the convent of Saint Francis, when it was +perceived that the blaze on the horizon was caused by fiery meteors, +which ran along the sky in all directions, at the altitude of twelve or +thirteen degrees. In Canada, in the years 1814 and 1819, the stellar +showers were noticed, and in the autumn of 1818 on the North Sea, when, +in the language of one of the observers, the surrounding atmosphere +seemed enveloped in one expansive ocean of fire, exhibiting the +appearance of another Moscow in flames. In the former cases, a residiuum +of dust was deposited upon the surface of the waters, on the roofs of +buildings, and on other objects. The deposition of particles of matter +of a ruddy color has frequently followed the descent of aërolites--the +origin of the popular stories of the sky having rained blood. The next +exhibition upon a great scale of the falling stars occurred on the 13th +of November, 1831, and was seen off the coasts of Spain and in the Ohio +country. This was followed by another in the ensuing year at exactly the +same time. Captain Hammond, then in the Red Sea, off Mocha, in the ship +Restitution, gives the following account of it; "From one o'clock A.M. +till after daylight, there was a very unusual phenomenon in the heavens. +It appeared like meteors bursting in every direction. The sky at the +time was clear, and the stars and moon bright, with streaks of light and +thin white clouds interspersed in the sky. On landing in the morning, I +inquired of the Arabs if they had noticed the above. They said they had +been observing it most of the night. I asked them if ever the like had +appeared before? The oldest of them replied it had not." The shower was +witnessed from the Red Sea westward to the Atlantic, and from +Switzerland to the Mauritius. + +We now come to by far the most splendid display on record; which, as it +was the third in successive years, and on the same day of the month as +the two preceding, seemed to invest the meteoric showers with a +periodical character; and hence originated the title of the November +meteors. The chief scene of the exhibition was included within the +limits of the longitude of 61° in the Atlantic Ocean, and that of 100° +in Central Mexico, and from the North American lakes to the West Indies. +Over this wide area, an appearance presented itself, far surpassing in +grandeur the most imposing artificial fire-works. An incessant play of +dazzlingly brilliant luminosities was kept up in the heavens for several +hours. Some of these were of considerable magnitude and peculiar form. +One of large size remained for some time almost stationary in the +zenith, over the Falls of Niagara, emitting streams of light. The wild +dash of the waters, as contrasted with the fiery uproar above them, +formed a scene of unequaled sublimity. In many districts, the mass of +the population were terror-struck, and the more enlightened were awed at +contemplating so vivid a picture of the Apocalyptic image--that of the +stars of heaven falling to the earth, even as a fig-tree casting her +untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. A planter of South +Carolina, thus describes the effect of the scene upon the ignorant +blacks: "I was suddenly awakened by the most distressing cries that ever +fell on my ears. Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy I could hear from +most of the negroes of three plantations, amounting in all to about six +or eight hundred. While earnestly listening for the cause, I heard a +faint voice near the door calling my name. I arose, and taking my sword, +stood at the door. At this moment, I heard the same voice still +beseeching me to rise, and saying, 'O my God, the world is on fire!' I +then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most +--the awfulness of the scene, or the distressed cries of the negroes. +Upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground--some speechless, and +some with the bitterest cries, but with their hands raised, imploring +God to save the world and them. The scene was truly awful; for never did +rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell toward the earth; east, +west, north, and south, it was the same." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +This extraordinary spectacle commenced a little before midnight, and +reached its height between four and six o'clock in the morning. The +night was remarkably fine. Not a cloud obscured the firmament. Upon +attentive observation, the materials of the shower were found to exhibit +three distinct varieties:--1. Phosphoric lines formed one class +apparently described by a point. These were the most abundant. They +passed along the sky with immense velocity, as numerous as the flakes of +a sharp snow-storm. 2. Large fire-balls formed another constituency of +the scene. These darted forth at intervals along the arch of the sky, +describing an arc of 30° or 40° in a few seconds. Luminous trains marked +their path, which remained in view for a number of minutes, and in some +cases for half an hour or more. The trains were commonly white, but the +various prismatic colors occasionally appeared, vividly and beautifully +displayed. Some of these fire-balls, or shooting-stars, were of enormous +size. Dr. Smith of North Carolina observed one which appeared larger +than the full moon at the horizon. "I was startled," he remarks, "by the +splendid light in which the surrounding scene was exhibited, rendering +even small objects quite visible." The same, or a similar luminous body, +seen at New Haven, passed off in a northwest direction, and exploded +near the star Capella. 3. Another class consisted of luminosities of +irregular form, which remained nearly stationary for a considerable +time, like the one that gleamed aloft over the Niagara Falls. The +remarkable circumstance is testified by every witness, that all the +luminous bodies, without a single exception, moved in lines, which +converged in one and the same point of the heavens; a little to the +southeast of the zenith. They none of them started from this point, but +their direction, to whatever part of the horizon it might be, when +traced backward, led to a common focus. Conceive the centre of the +diagram to be nearly overhead, and a proximate idea may be formed of the +character of the scene, and the uniform radiation of the meteors from +the same source. The position of this radiant point among the stars was +near [Greek: g] Leonis. It remained stationary with respect to the stars +during the whole of the exhibition. Instead of accompanying the earth in +its diurnal motion eastward, it attended the stars in their apparent +movement westward. The source of the meteoric shower was thus +independent of the earth's rotation, and this shows its position to have +been in the regions of space exterior to our atmosphere. According to +the American Professor, Dr. Olmsted, it could not have been less than +2238 miles above the earth's surface. + +[Illustration] + +The attention of astronomers in Europe, and all over the world, was, as +may be imagined, strongly roused by intelligence of this celestial +display on the western continent; and as the occurrence of a meteoric +shower had now been observed for three years successively, at a +coincident era, it was inferred that a return of this fiery hail-storm +might be expected in succeeding Novembers. Arrangements were therefore +made to watch the heavens on the nights of the 12th and 13th in the +following years at the principal observatories; and though no such +imposing spectacle as that of 1833 has been witnessed, yet extraordinary +flights of shooting stars have been observed in various places at the +periodic time, tending also from a fixed point in the constellation Leo. +They were seen in Europe and America on November 13th, 1834. The +following results of simultaneous observation were obtained by Arago +from different parts of France on the nights of November 12th and 13th, +1830: + + Place. Meteors. + + Paris, at the Observatory 170 + Dieppe 36 + Arras 27 + Strasburg 85 + Von Altimarl 75 + Angou 49 + Rochefort 23 + Havre 300 + +On November 12th, 1837, at eight o'clock in the evening, the attention +of observers in various parts of Great Britain was directed to a bright, +luminous body, apparently proceeding from the north, which, after making +a rapid descent, in the manner of a rocket, suddenly burst, and +scattering its particles into various beautiful forms, vanished in the +atmosphere. This was succeeded by others all similar to the first, both +in shape and the manner of its ultimate disappearance. The whole display +terminated at ten o'clock, when dark clouds which continued up to a late +hour, overspread the earth, preventing any further observation. In the +November of 1838, at the same date, the falling stars were abundant at +Vienna: and one of remarkable brilliancy and size, as large as the full +moon in the zenith, was seen on the 13th by M. Verusmor, off Cherburg, +passing in the direction of Cape La Hogue, a long, luminous train +marking its course through the sky. The same year, the non-commissioned +officers in the island of Ceylon were instructed to look out for the +falling stars. Only a few appeared at the usual time; but on the 5th of +December, from nine o'clock till midnight, the shower was incessant, +and the number defied all attempts at counting them. + +[Illustration] + +Professor Olmsted, an eminent man of science, himself an eye-witness of +the great meteoric shower on the American continent, after carefully +collecting and comparing facts, proposed the following theory: The +meteors of November 13th, 1833, emanated from a nebulous body which was +then pursuing its way along with the earth around the sun; that this +body continues to revolve around the sun in an elliptical orbit, but +little inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and having its aphelion +near the orbit of the earth; and finally, that the body has a period of +nearly six months, and that its perihelion is a little within the orbit +of Mercury. The diagram represents the ellipse supposed to be described, +E being the orbit of the earth, M that of Mercury, and N that of the +assumed nebula, its aphelion distance being about 95 millions of miles, +and the perihelion 24 millions. Thus, when in aphelion, the body is +close to the orbit of the earth, and this occurring periodically, when +the earth is at the same time in that part of its orbit, nebulous +particles are attracted toward it by its gravity, and then, entering the +atmosphere, are consumed in it by their concurrent velocities, causing +the appearance of a meteoric shower. The parent body is inferred to be +nebular, because, though the meteors fall toward the earth with +prodigious velocity, few, if any, appear to have reached the surface. +They were stopped by the resistance of the air and dissipated in it, +whereas, if they had possessed any considerable quantity of matter, the +momentum would have been sufficient to have brought them down in some +instances to the earth. Arago has suggested a similar theory, that of a +stream or group of innumerable bodies, comparatively small, but of +various dimensions, sweeping round the solar focus in an orbit which +periodically cuts that of the earth. These two theories are in substance +the Chladnian hypothesis, first started to explain the observed actual +descent of aërolites. Though great obscurity rests upon the subject, the +fact may be deemed certain that independently of the great planets and +satellites of the system, there are vast numbers of bodies circling +round the sun, both singly and in groups, and probably an extensive +nebula, contact with which causes the phenomena of shooting stars, +aërolites, and meteoric showers. But admitting the existence of such +bodies to be placed beyond all doubt, the question of their origin, +whether original accumulations of matter, old as the planetary orbs, or +the dispersed trains of comets, or the remains of a ruined world, is a +point beyond the power of the human understanding to reach. + + + + +A FIVE DAYS' TOUR IN THE ODENWALD. + +A SKETCH OF GERMAN LIFE. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + + +The Odenwald, or Forest of Odin, is one of the most primitive districts +of Germany. It consists of a hilly, rather than a mountainous district, +of some forty miles in one direction, and thirty in another. The +beautiful Neckar bounds it on the south; on the west it is terminated by +the sudden descent of its hills into the great Rhine plain. This +boundary is well known by the name of the Bergstrasse, or mountain road; +which road, however, was at the foot of the mountains, and not over +them, as the name would seem to imply. To English travelers, the beauty +of this Bergstrasse is familiar. The hills, continually broken into by +openings into romantic valleys, slope rapidly down to the plain, covered +with picturesque vineyards; and at their feet lie antique villages, and +the richly-cultivated plains of the Rhine, here thirty or forty miles +wide. On almost every steep and projecting hill, or precipitous cliff, +stands a ruined castle, each, as throughout Germany, with its wild +history, its wilder traditions, and local associations of a hundred +kinds. The railroad from Frankfort to Heidelberg now runs along the +Bergstrasse, and will ever present to the eyes of travelers the charming +aspect of these old legendary hills; till the enchanting valley of the +Neckar, with Heidelberg reposing amid its lovely scenery at its mouth, +terminates the Bergstrasse, and the hills which stretch onward, on the +way toward Carlsruhe, assume another name. + +Every one ascending the Rhine from Mayence to Mannheim has been struck +with the beauty of these Odenwald hills, and has stood watching that +tall white tower on the summit of one of them, which, with windings of +the river, seem now brought near, and then again thrown very far off; +seemed to watch and haunt you, and, for many hours, to take short cuts +to meet you, till, at length, like a giant disappointed of his prey, it +glided away into the gray distance, and was lost in the clouds. This is +the tower of Melibocus, above the village of Auerbach, to which we shall +presently ascend, in order to take our first survey of this old and +secluded haunt of Odin. + +This quiet region of hidden valleys and deep forests extends from the +borders of the Black Forest, which commences on the other side of the +Neckar, to the Spessart, another old German forest; and in the other +direction, from Heidelberg and Darmstadt, toward Heilbronn. It is full +of ancient castles, and a world of legends. In it stands, besides the +Melibocus, another tower, on a still loftier point, called the +Katzenbuckel, which overlooks a vast extent of these forest hills. Near +this lies Eberbach, a castle of the descendants of Charlemagne, which we +shall visit; the scenes of the legend of the Wild Huntsman; the castles +of Götz von Berlichingen, and many another spot familiar by its fame to +our minds from childhood. But besides this, the inhabitants are a people +living in a world of their own; retaining all the simplicity of their +abodes and habits; and it is only in such a region that you now +recognize the pictures of German life such as you find them in the _Haus +Märchen_ of the brothers Grimm. + +In order to make ourselves somewhat acquainted with this interesting +district, Mrs. Howitt and myself, with knapsack on back, set out at the +end of August, 1841, to make a few days' ramble on foot through it. The +weather, however, proved so intensely hot, and the electrical sultriness +of the woods so oppressive, that we only footed it one day, when we were +compelled to make use of a carriage, much to our regret. + +On the last day in August we drove with a party of friends, and our +children, to Weinheim; rambled through its vineyards, ascended to its +ancient castle, and then went on to Birkenau Thal, a charming valley, +celebrated, as its name denotes, for its lovely hanging birches, under +which, with much happy mirth, we dined. + +Scrambling among the hills, and winding up the dry footpaths, among the +vineyards of this neighborhood, we were yet more delighted with the +general beauty of the scenery, and with the wild-flowers which every +where adorned the hanging cliffs and warm waysides. The marjorum stood +in ruddy and fragrant masses; harebells and campanulas of several kinds, +that are cultivated in our gardens, with bells large and clear; crimson +pinks; the Michaelmas daisy; a plant with a thin, radiated yellow +flower, of the character of an aster; a centaurea of a light purple, +handsomer than any English one; a thistle in the dryest places, +resembling an eryngo, with a thick, bushy top; mulleins, yellow and +white; the wild mignonnette, and the white convolvulus; and clematis +festooning the bushes, recalled the flowery fields and lanes of England, +and yet told us that we were not there. The meadows had also their moist +emerald sward scattered with the grass of Parnassus, and an autumnal +crocus of a particularly delicate lilac. + +At the inn, at the mouth of Birkenau Thal, we proposed to take the +eilwagen as far as Auerbach, but that not arriving, we availed ourselves +of a peasant's light wicker wagon. The owner was a merry fellow, and had +a particularly spirited black horse; and taking leave of our friends, +after a delightful day, we had a most charming drive to Auerbach, and +one equally amusing, from the conversation of our driver. + +After tea we ascended to Auerbach Castle, which occupies a hill above +the town, still far overtopped, however, by the height of Melibocus. The +view was glorious. The sunset across the great Rhine plain was +magnificent. It diffused over the whole western sky an atmosphere of +intense crimson light, with scattered golden clouds, and surrounded by a +deep violet splendor. The extremities of the plain, from the eye being +dazzled with this central effulgence, lay in a solemn and nearly +impenetrable gloom. The castle in ruins, seen by this light, looked +peculiarly beautiful and impressive. In the court on the wall was an +inscription, purporting that a society in honor of the military career +of the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, in whose territory and in that of +Baden the Odenwald chiefly lies, had here celebrated his birthday in the +preceding July. Round the inscription hung oaken garlands, within each +of which was written the name and date of the battles in which he had +been engaged against the French. An altar of moss and stones stood at a +few yards' distance in front of these memorials, at which a peasant +living in the tower told us, the field-preacher had delivered an oration +on the occasion. + +In the morning, at five o'clock, we began to ascend the neighboring +heights of Melibocus. It took us an hour and a quarter. The guide +carried my knapsack; and as we went, men came up through different +footpaths in the woods, with hoes on their shoulders. When we arrived +on the top, we found others, and among them some women, accompanied by a +policeman. They were peasants who had been convicted of cutting wood for +fuel in the hills, and were adjudged to pay a penalty, or in default, to +work it out in hoeing and clearing the young plantations for a +proportionate time--a much wiser way than shutting them up in a prison, +where they are of no use either to themselves or the state. + +The view from the tower, eighty feet in height, over the great Rhine +plain, is immense and splendid, including two hundred villages, towns, +and cities. The windings of the magnificent Rhine lie mapped out below +you, and on its banks are seen, as objects of peculiar interest, the +cathedral of Speier, the lofty dome of the Jesuits' church at Mannheim, +and the four towers of the noble cathedral of Worms. In the remote +distance, as a fitting termination to this noble landscape, are seen the +heights of the Donnersberg, the Vosges, and the Schwarzwald. + +The policeman, who followed us up into the tower, mentioned the time +when the inhabitants of that district had hastened thither to watch the +approach of the French armies, and pointed out the spot where they were +first seen, and described their approach, and the terrors and anxieties +of the people, in the most lively and touching manner. + +The wind was strong on this lofty height, and the rattling of the +shutters in the look-out windows in the tower, and of their fastenings, +would have been dismal enough on a stormy night, and gave quite a +wildness to it even then. The view over the Odenwald was beautiful. Half +covered with wood, as far as you could see, with green, winding straths +between them, distant castles, and glimpses of the white walls of +low-lying dorfs or villages, it gave you an idea of a region at once +solitary and attractive. The whole was filled with the cheerful light of +morning, and the wooded hills looked of the most brilliant green. We +descended, and pursued our way through the forest glades with that +feeling of enjoyment which the entrance into an unknown region, pleasant +companionship, and fine weather, inspire. When we issued from the woods +which clothe the sides of Melibocus, we sate down on the heathy turf, +and gazed with a feeling of ever-youthful delight on the scene around +us. Above us, and over its woods, rose the square white tower of +Melibocus; below, lay green valleys, from among whose orchards issued +the smoke of peaceful cottages; and beyond, rose hills covered with +other woods, with shrouded spots, the legends of which had reached us in +England, and had excited the wonder of our early days--the castle of the +Wild Huntsman--the traditions of the followers of Odin--and the +strongholds of many an iron-clad knight, as free to seize the goods of +his neighbors as he was strong to take and keep them. Now all was +peaceful and Arcadian. We met, as we descended into the valley, young +women coming up with their cows, and a shepherd with a mixed flock of +sheep and swine. He had a belt around him, to which hung a chain, +probably to fasten a cow to, as we afterward saw cows so secured. + +We found the cottages, in the depths of the valleys, among their +orchards, just those heavy, old-fashioned sort of things that we see in +German engravings; buildings of wood-framing, the plaster panels of +which were painted in various ways, and the windows of those circular +and octagon panes which, from old association, always seem to belong to +German cottages, just such as that in which the old witch lived in +_Grimm's Kinder und Haus Märchen_; and in the _Folk Sagor_ of Sweden and +Norway. There were, too, the large ovens built out of doors and roofed +over, such as the old giantess, _Käringen som vardt stekt i ugnen_, was +put into, according to German and Scandinavian legends. The people were +of the simplest character and appearance. We seemed at once to have +stepped out of modern times into the far-past ages. We saw several +children sitting on a bench in the open air, near a school-house, +learning their lessons, and writing on their slates; and we wept into +the school. + +The schoolmaster was a man befitting the place; simple, rustic, and +devout. He told us that the boys and girls, of which his school was +full, came, some of them, from a considerable distance. They came in at +six o'clock in the morning and staid till eight, had an hour's rest, and +then came in till eleven, when they went home, and did not return again +till the next morning, being employed the rest of the day in helping +their parents; in going into the woods for fuel; into the fields to +glean, tend cattle, cut grass, or do what was wanted. All the barefooted +children of every village, how ever remote, thus acquire a tolerable +education, learning singing as a regular part of it. They have what they +call their _Sing-Stunde_, singing lesson, every day. On a black board +the _Lied_, song, or hymn for the day, was written in German character +in chalk; and the master, who was naturally anxious to exhibit the +proficiency of his scholars, gave them their singing lesson while we +were there. The scene was very interesting in itself; but there was +something humiliating to our English minds, to think that in the +Odenwald, a portion of the great Hyrcanian forest, a region associating +itself with all that is wild and obscure, every child of every hamlet +and cottage, however secluded, was provided with that instruction which +the villages of England are in a great measure yet destitute of. But +here the peasants are not, as with us, totally cut off from property in +the soil which they cultivate; totally dependent on the labor afforded +by others; on the contrary, they are themselves the possessors. This +country is, in fact, in the hands of the people. It is all parceled out +among the multitude; and, wherever you go, instead of the great halls, +vast parks, and broad lands of the few, you see perpetual evidences of +an agrarian system. Except the woods, the whole land is thrown into +small allotments, and upon them the people are laboring busily for +themselves. + +Here, in the Odenwald, the harvest, which in the great Rhine plain was +over in July, was now, in great measure, cut. Men, women, and children, +were all engaged in cutting it, getting it in, or in tending the cattle. +Everywhere stood the simple wagons of the country with their pair of +yoked cows. Women were doing all sorts of work; reaping, and mowing, and +threshing with the men. They were without shoes and stockings, clad in a +simple, dark-blue petticoat; a body of the same, leaving the white +chemise sleeves as a pleasing contrast; and their hair, in some +instances, turned up under their little black or white caps; in others +hanging wild and sunburnt on their shoulders. The women, old and young, +work as hard as the men, at all kinds of work, and yet with right +good-will, for they work for themselves. They often take their dinners +with them to the fields, frequently giving the lesser children a piece +of bread each, and locking them up in their cottages till they return. +This would be thought a hard life in England; but hard as it is, it is +better than the degradation of agricultural laborers, in a dear country +like England, with six or eight shillings a week, and no cow, no pig, +no fruit for the market, no house, garden, or field of their own; but, +on the contrary, constant anxiety, the fear of a master on whom they are +constantly dependent, and the desolate prospect of ending their days in +a union work-house. + +Each German has his house, his orchard, his road-side trees, so laden +with fruit, that if he did not carefully prop up, and tie together, and +in many places hold the boughs together with wooden clamps, they would +be torn asunder by their own weight. He has his corn-plot, his plot for +mangel-wurzel or hay, for potatoes, for hemp, etc. He is his own master, +and he therefore, and every branch of his family, have the strongest +motives for constant exertion. You see the effect of this in his +industry and his economy. + +In Germany, nothing is lost. The produce of the trees and the cows is +carried to market. Much fruit is dried for winter use. You see wooden +trays of plums, cherries, and sliced apples, lying in the sun to dry. +You see strings of them hanging from their chamber windows in the sun. +The cows are kept up for the greater part of the year, and every green +thing is collected for them. Every little nook where the grass prows by +roadside, and river, and brook, is carefully cut with the sickle, and +carried home, on the heads of women and children, in baskets, or tied in +large cloths. Nothing of any kind that can possibly be made of any use +is lost. Weeds, nettles, nay, the very goose-grass which covers waste +places, is cut up and taken for the cows. You see the little children +standing in the streets of the villages, in the streams which generally +run down them, busy washing these weeds before they are given to the +cattle. They carefully collect the leaves of the marsh-grass, carefully +cut their potato tops for them, and even, if other things fail, gather +green leaves from the woodlands. One can not help thinking continually +of the enormous waste of such things in England--of the vast quantities +of grass on banks, by roadsides, in the openings of plantations, in +lanes, in church-yards, where grass from year to year springs and dies, +but which, if carefully cut, would maintain many thousand cows for the +poor. + +To pursue still further this subject of German economy. The very +cuttings of the vines are dried and preserved for winter fodder. The +tops and refuse of the hemp serve as bedding for the cows; nay, even the +rough stalks of the poppies, after the heads have been gathered for oil, +are saved, and all these are converted into manure for the land. When +these are not sufficient, the children are sent into the woods to gather +moss; and all our readers familiar with Germany will remember to have +seen them coming homeward with large bundles of this on their heads. In +autumn, the falling leaves are gathered and stocked for the same +purpose. The fir-cones, which with us lie and rot in the woods, are +carefully collected, and sold for lighting fires. + +In short, the economy and care of the German peasant are an example to +all Europe. He has for years--nay, ages--been doing that, as it regards +agricultural management, to which the British public is but just now +beginning to open its eyes. Time, also, is as carefully economized as +every thing else. They are early risers, as may well be conceived, when +the children, many of whom come from considerable distances, are in +school at six in the morning. As they tend their cattle, or their swine, +the knitting never ceases, and hence the quantities of stockings, and +other household things, which they accumulate, are astonishing. + +We could not help, as often before, being struck in the Odenwald with +the resemblance of the present country and life of the Germans to those +of the ancient Hebrews. Germany, like Judea, is literally a land flowing +with milk and honey: a land of corn, and vine, and oil. The plains are +full of corn; the hill-sides, however stony, are green with vineyards; +and though they have not the olive, they procure vast quantities of oil +from the walnut, the poppy, and the rape. The whole country is parceled +out among its people. There are no hedges, but the landmarks, against +the removal of which the Jewish law so repeatedly and so emphatically +denounces its terrors, alone indicate the boundaries of each man's +possession. Every where you see the ox and the heifer toiling beneath +the primitive yoke, as in the days of David. The threshing-floor of +Araunah often comes to your mind when you see the different members of a +family--father, mother, brother, and sister, all threshing out their +corn together on the mud floor of their barn; but much more so when you +see them, in the corn-field itself, collect the sheaves into one place, +and treading down the earth into a solid floor, there, in the face of +heaven and fanned by its winds, thresh out on the spot the corn which +has been cut. This we saw continually going forward on the steep slopes +of the Odenwald, ten or a dozen men and women all threshing together. A +whole field is thus soon threshed, the corn being beaten out much more +easily while the ear is crisp with the hot sun. + +Having taken leave of the schoolmaster, his scholars, and his bees, with +whose hives nearly all his house-side was covered, we pursued our way to +the Jägerhaus on the top of the Felsberg, one of the highest hills in +the Odenwald. The day was splendid, with a fine breeze, and all around +was new, cheerful, yet solitary, bright and inspiriting. The peasants in +the harvest-fields, the herds watching their cattle, gave us a passing +salutation, and when within sight of you, took off their hats, even at a +field's distance. We walked on in great enjoyment, here sitting to look +back on the scenes we had left, or to drink from the glittering waters +that we had to pass. + +Just as we were about to enter the woods again, we met an old woman +slowly wandering on from some cottages among the trees by the wood-side. +She had a leathern belt round her waist, and a cord fastened to it, by +which she led her cow to graze in the thickets and by the foot-path, +while her hands were busy with her knitting. A boy, about seven years +old, was leading a kid by a chain, letting it crop the flowers of the +hawkweed in the grass. The old woman saluted us cheerfully; told us that +the boy's father was in America, and his mother gone out to service, and +that he was intrusted to her care. Could there be any thing more like a +scene in the old _Märchen_, or less like one in England? + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE MYSTERIOUS PREACHER. + + +In one of those strolls which I have always loved to take into different +and little frequented parts of these kingdoms, I fell in with a +venerable old man, dressed in black, with very white hair, and of a +mild, somewhat melancholy and intelligent look. It was a beautiful scene +where I first encountered him--in a wood, on the banks of a noble river. +I accosted the old man with a remark on the delightfulness of the time +and place; and he replied to my observations with a warmth, and in a +tone, which strongly affected me. I soon found that he was as +enthusiastic a lover of nature as myself--that he had seen many of the +finest portions of the kingdom, and had wandered through them with +Milton or Shakspeare, Herbert or Quarles, in his hand. He was one of +those who, reading with his own eyes and heart, and not through the +spectacles of critics, had not been taught to despise the last old poet, +nor to treat his rich and quaint versification, and his many manly and +noble thoughts, as the conceits and rhymes of a poetaster. His reverence +for the great names of our literature, and his just appreciation of +their works, won upon me greatly. I invited him to continue his walk; +and--so well was I pleased with him--to visit me at my rustic lodgment. + +From that day, for some weeks, we daily walked together. I more and more +contemplated with admiration and esteem the knowledge, the fine taste, +the generous sentiments, the profound love of nature which seemed to +fill the whole being of the old man. But who and whence was he? He said +not a word on that subject, and I did not, therefore, feel freedom to +inquire. He might have secret griefs, which such a query might awaken. I +respect too much the wounded heart of humanity carelessly to probe it, +and especially the heart of a solitary being who, in the downward stage +of life, may, perchance, be the stripped and scathed remnant of a +once-endeared family. He stood before me alone. He entered into +reminiscences, but they were reminiscences connected with no near ties; +but had such ties now existed, he would in some hour of frank enthusiasm +have said so. He did not say it, and it was, therefore, sufficiently +obvious, that he had a history which he left down in the depths of his +heart, beyond the vision of all but that heart itself. And yet, whatever +were the inward memories of this venerable man, there was a buoyancy and +youthfulness of feeling about him which amply manifested that they had +not quenched the love and enjoyment of life in him. + +On different days we took, during the most beautiful spring, strolls of +many miles into distant dales and villages, and on the wild brown moors. +Now we sate by a moorland stream, talking of many absorbing things in +the history of the poetry and the religion of our country, and I could +plainly see that my ancient friend had in him the spirit of an old +Covenanter, and that, had he lived in the days of contest between the +church of kings and the church of God, he would have gone to the field +or the stake for his faith as triumphantly as any martyr of those times. +It was under the influence of one of these conversations that I could +not avoid addressing to the old man the following youthful stanzas, +which, though they may exhibit little poetry, testify to the patriotism +which his language inspired: + + My friend! there have been men + To whom we turn again + After contemplating the present age, + And long, with vain regret, + That they were living yet, + Virtue's high war triumphantly to wage. + + Men whose renown was built + Not on resplendent guilt-- + Not through life's waste, or the abuse of power, + But by the dauntless zeal + With which at truth's appeal, + They stood unto the death in some eventful hour. + + But he who now shall deem, + Because among us seem + No dubious symptoms of a realm's decline-- + Wealth blind with its excess + 'Mid far-diffused distress, + And pride that kills, professing to refine-- + + He who deems hence shall flow + The utter overthrow + Of this most honored and long happy land, + Little knows what there lies + Even beneath his eyes, + Slumbering in forms that round about him stand. + + Little knows he the zeal + Myriads of spirits feel + In love, pure principle, and knowledge strong; + Little knows he what men + Tread this dear land again, + Whose souls of fire invigorate the throng. + + My friend! I lay with thee + Beneath the forest tree, + When spring was shedding her first sweets around. + And the bright sky above + Woke feelings of deep love, + And thoughts which traveled through the blue profound. + + I lay, and as I heard-- + The joyful faith thus stirred, + Shot like Heaven's lightning through my wondering breast + I heard, and in my thought + Glory and greatness wrought, + And blessing God--my native land I blest. + +Now we entered a village inn, and ate our simple luncheon; and now we +stood in some hamlet lane, or by its mossy well, with a group of +children about us, among whom not a child appeared more child-like or +more delighted than the old man. Nay, as we came back from a fifteen or +twenty miles' stroll, he would leap over a stile with the activity of a +boy, or run up to a wilding bush, covered with its beautiful pink +blossoms, and breaking off a branch hold it up in admiration, and +declare that it appeared almost sinful for an old man like him to enjoy +himself so keenly. I know not when I more deeply felt the happiness and +the holiness of existence, the wealth of intellect, and the blessings of +our fancies, sympathies, and affection, than I used to do as this +singular stranger sate with me on the turf-seat at the vine-covered end +of the old cottage, which then made my temporary residence, on the +serene evenings of that season, over our rustic tea-table, and with the +spicy breath of the wall-flowers of that little garden breathing around +us, and held conversation on many a subject of moral and intellectual +speculation which then deeply interested me. In some of those evening +hours he at length gave me glimpses into his past existence. Things more +strange and melancholy than I could ever have suspected had passed over +him, and only the more interested me in him. + +Such had been our acquaintance for some months, when, one evening, +happening to be in the neighboring town, and passing through a +densely-populated part of it, I saw a number of people crowding into a +chapel. With my usual curiosity in all that relates to the life, habits, +and opinions of my fellow-men, I entered, and was no little surprised to +behold my ancient friend in the pulpit. As I believed he had not +observed me enter, and as I was desirous to hear my worthy friend, thus +most unexpectedly found in this situation, without attracting his +attention, I therefore seated myself in the shade of a pillar, and +awaited the sermon. My surprise, as I listened to it, was excessive, on +more accounts than one. I was surprised at the intense, fervid, and +picturesque blaze of eloquence that breathed forth from the preacher, +seeming to light up the whole place, and fill it with an unearthly and +cloudy fire. I was more astonished by the singularity and wildness of +the sentiments uttered. I looked again and again at the rapt and +ecstatic preacher. His frame seemed to expand, and to be buoyed up, by +his glowing enthusiasm, above the very height of humanity. His hair, +white as snow, seemed a pale glory burning round his head, and his +countenance, warm with the expression of his entranced spirit, was +molten into the visage of a pleading seraph, who saw the terrors of the +Divinity revealed before him, and felt only that they for whom he +wrestled were around him. _They_ hung upon that awful and unearthly +countenance with an intensity which, in beings at the very bar of +eternal judgment, hanging on the advocacy of an angel, could scarcely +have been exceeded; and when he ceased, and sat down, a sigh, as from +every heart at once, went through the place, which marked the fall of +their rapt imaginations from the high region whither his words and +expressive features had raised them, to the dimness and reality of +earth. I could scarcely persuade myself that this was my late friend of +the woods and fields, and of the evening discourse, so calm and +dispassionate, over our little tea-table. + +I escaped cautiously with the crowd, and eagerly interrogated a man who +passed out near me who was the preacher? He looked at me with an air of +surprise; but seeing me a stranger, he said he thought I could not have +been in those parts long, or I should have known Mr. M----. I then +learned that my venerable acquaintance was one whose name was known far +and wide--known for the strange and fascinating powers of his pulpit +eloquence, and for the peculiarity of his religious views. The +singularity of those notions alone had prevented his becoming one of the +most popular religious orators of his time. They had been the source of +perpetual troubles and persecutions to him, they had estranged from him +the most zealous of his friends from time to time; yet they were such +only as he could lay down at the threshold of Divine judgment; and +still, wherever he went, although they were a root of bitterness to him +in private, he found in public a crowd of eager and enthusiastic +hearers, who hung on his words as if they came at once warm from the +inner courts of heaven. + +The sense of this discovery, and of the whole strange scene of the last +evening, hung powerfully upon me through the following day. I sat on the +bench of my cottage window, with a book in my hand, the greater part of +it, but my thoughts continually reverted to the image of the preacher in +the midst of his audience; when, at evening, in walked the old man with +his usual quiet smile, and shaking me affectionately by the hand, sat +down in a wooden chair opposite me. I looked again and again, but in +vain, to recognize the floating figure and the exalted countenance of +the evening. + +The old man took up my book, and began to read. A sudden impulse seized +me which I have never ceased to regret. I did not wish abruptly to tell +the old man that I had seen him in the pulpit, but I longed to discuss +with him the ground of his peculiar views, and said, + +"What do you think, my friend, of the actual future destiny of the--?" + +I made the question include his peculiar doctrines. He laid down the +volume with a remarkable quickness of action. He gazed at me for a +moment with a look humbled but not confused, such as I had never seen in +him before, and, in a low voice, said, + +"You were then at my chapel last night?" + +"I was," I replied. + +"I am sorry--I am sorry," he said, rising with a sigh. "It has been a +pleasant time, but it is ended. Good-by, my dear young friend, and may +God bless you!" + +He turned silently but quickly away. + +"Stop!" I cried. "Stop!" But he heard or heeded not. I ran to the gate +to lay hold on him, and assure him that his sentiments would not alter +my regard for him, but I observed him already hastening down the lane at +such a speed that I judged it rude and useless at that moment to pursue. + +I went down that day to his lodgings, to assure him of my sentiments +toward him, but door and window were closed, and if he were in he would +not hear me. Early next morning a little ragged boy brought me a note, +saying a gentleman in the lane had given it to him. It simply said: + +"Dear young friend, good-by. You wonder at my abruptness; but my +religion has always been fatal to my friendship. You will say it would +not with you: so has many another assured me; but I am too well schooled +by bitter experience. I have had a call to a distant place. No one knows +of it, and I trust the name to no one. The pleasure of your society has +detained me, or I had obeyed the call a month ago. May we meet in +Heaven! C.M." + +He was actually gone, and no one knew whither. + +Time had passed over, and I had long imagined this strange and gifted +being in his grave, when in a wild and remote part of the kingdom, the +other day, I accidentally stumbled upon his retreat, and found him in +his pulpit with the same rapt aspect, uttering an harangue as exciting, +and surrounded by an audience as eagerly devouring his words. + + + + +[From Chesney's Expedition to the Euphrates and Tigris.] + +ASSYRIAN SECTS. + + +There are two remarkable sects, one of which, called the Mendajaha +(disciples of John), is found scattered in small communities in Basrah, +Kurnah, Mohammarah, and, lastly, Sheikh el Shuyukh, where there are +about three hundred families. Those of Basrah are noticed by Pietro de +la Valle who says the Arabs call them Sabeans. Their religion is +evidently a mixture of Paganism, Hebrew, Mohammedan, and Christian. They +profess to regulate their lives by a book called the Sidra, containing +many moral precepts, which, according to tradition, have been handed +down from Adam, through Seth and Enoch; and it is understood to be in +their language (the Chaldee), but written in a peculiar character. They +abhor circumcision, but are very particular in distinguishing between +clean and unclean animals, and likewise in keeping the Sabbath with +extraordinary strictness. The Psalms of David are in use, but they are +held to be inferior to their own book. They abstain from garlic, beans, +and several kinds of pulse, and likewise most carefully from every +description of food between sunrise and sunset during a whole moon +before the vernal equinox; in addition to which, an annual festival is +kept, called the feast of five days. Much respect is entertained for the +city of Mecca, and a still greater reverence for the Pyramids of Egypt, +in one of which they believe that their great progenitor, Saba, son of +Seth, is buried; and to his original residence at Haran they make very +particular pilgrimages, sacrificing on these occasions a ram and a hen. +They pray seven times a day, turning sometimes to the south and +sometimes to the north. But, at the same time, they retain a part of the +ancient worship of the heavenly bodies, adding that of angels, with the +belief that the souls of the wicked are to enjoy a happier state after +nine hundred centuries of suffering. The priests, who are called +sheikhs, or chiefs, use a particular kind of baptism, which, they say, +was instituted by St. John; and the Chaldee language is used in this and +other ceremonies. + +The other religion, that of a more numerous branch, the Yezidis, is, in +some respects, like the Mendajaha, but with the addition of the evil +principle, the exalted doctor, who, as an instrument of the divine will, +is propitiated rather than worshiped, as had been once supposed. The +Yezidis reverence Moses, Christ, and Mohammed, in addition to many of +the saints and prophets held in veneration both by Christians and +Moslems. They adore the sun, as symbolical of Christ, and believe in an +intermediate state after death. The Yezidis of Sinjar do not practice +circumcision, nor do they eat pork; but they freely partake of the blood +of other animals. Their manners are simple, and their habits, both +within and without, remarkable for cleanliness. They are, besides, +brave, hospitable, sober, faithful, and, with the exception of the +Mohammedan, are inclined to tolerate other religions; they are, however, +lamentably deficient in every branch of education. Polygamy is not +permitted, and the tribes intermarry with each other. The families of +the father and sons live under the same roof, and the patriarchal system +is carried out still further, each village being under its own +hereditary chief. + + + + +THE APPROACH OF CHRISTMAS. + + The time draws near the birth of Christ, + The moon is hid, the night is still; + A single church below the hill + Is pealing, folded in the mist + + A single peal of bells below, + That wakens at this hour of rest + A single murmur in the breast, + That these are not the bells I know + + Like strangers' voices here they sound, + In lands where not a memory strays, + Nor landmark breathes of other days. + But all is new unhallow'd ground. + +TENNYSON'S "_In Memoriam_". + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +UGLINESS REDEEMED--A TALE OF A LONDON DUST-HEAP. + + +On a murky morning in November, wind northeast, a poor old woman with a +wooden leg was seen struggling against the fitful gusts of the bitter +breeze, along a stony, zig-zag road full of deep and irregular +cart-ruts. Her ragged petticoat was blue, and so was her wretched nose. +A stick was in her left hand, which assisted her to dig and hobble her +way along; and in her other hand, supported also beneath her withered +arm, was a large, rusty, iron sieve. Dust and fine ashes filled up all +the wrinkles in her face; and of these there were a prodigious number, +for she was eighty-three years old. Her name was Peg Dotting. + +About a quarter of a mile distant, having a long ditch and a broken-down +fence as a foreground, there rose against the muddled-gray sky, a huge +dust-heap of a dirty-black color--being, in fact, one of those immense +mounds of cinders, ashes, and other emptyings from dust-holes and bins, +which have conferred celebrity on certain suburban neighborhoods of a +great city. Toward this dusky mountain old Peg Dotting was now making +her way. + +Advancing toward the dust-heap by an opposite path, very narrow and just +reclaimed from the mud by a thick layer of freshly broken flints, there +came at the same time Gaffer Doubleyear, with his bone-bag slung over +his shoulder. The rags of his coat fluttered in the east-wind, which +also whistled keenly round his almost rimless hat, and troubled his one +eye. The other eye, having met with an accident last week, he had +covered neatly with an oyster-shell, which was kept in its place by a +string at each side, fastened through a hole. He used no staff to help +him along, though his body was nearly bent double, so that his face was +constantly turned to the earth, like that of a four-footed creature. He +was ninety-seven years of age. + +As these two patriarchal laborers approached the great dust-heap, a +discordant voice hallooed to them from the top of a broken wall. It was +meant as a greeting of the morning, and proceeded from little Jem +Clinker, a poor deformed lad, whose back had been broken when a child. +His nose and chin were much too large for the rest of his face, and he +had lost nearly all his teeth from premature decay. But he had an eye +gleaming with intelligence and life, and an expression at once patient +and hopeful. He had balanced his misshapen frame on the top of the old +wall, over which one shriveled leg dangled, as if by the weight of a +hob-nailed boot, that covered a foot large enough for a plowman. + +In addition to his first morning's salutation of his two aged friends, +he now shouted out in a tone of triumph and self-gratulation, in which +he felt assured of their sympathy--"Two white skins, and a +tor'shell-un." + +It may be requisite to state that little Jem Clinker belonged to the +dead-cat department of the dust-heap, and now announced that a prize of +three skins, in superior condition, had rewarded him for being first in +the field. He was enjoying a seat on the wall in order to recover +himself from the excitement of his good fortune. + +At the base of the great dust-heap the two old people now met their +young friend--a sort of great-grandson by mutual adoption--and they at +once joined the party who had by this time assembled as usual, and were +already busy at their several occupations. + +But besides all these, another individual, belonging to a very different +class, formed a part of the scene, though appearing only on its +outskirts. A canal ran along at the rear of the dust-heap, and on the +banks of its opposite side slowly wandered by--with hands clasped and +hanging down in front of him, and eyes bent vacantly upon his hands--the +forlorn figure of a man in a very shabby great-coat, which had evidently +once belonged to one in the position of a gentleman. And to a gentleman +it still belonged--but in _what_ a position! A scholar, a man of wit, of +high sentiment, of refinement, and a good fortune withal--now by a +sudden "turn of law" bereft of the last only, and finding that none of +the rest, for which (having his fortune) he had been so much admired, +enabled him to gain a livelihood. His title deeds had been lost or +stolen, and so he was bereft of every thing he possessed. He had +talents, and such as would have been profitably available had he known +how to use them for this new purpose; but he did not; he was +misdirected; he made fruitless efforts, in his want of experience; and +he was now starving. As he passed the great dust-heap, he gave one +vague, melancholy gaze that way, and then looked wistfully into the +canal. And he continued to look into the canal as he slowly moved along, +till he was out of sight. + +A dust-heap of this kind is often worth thousands of pounds. The present +one was very large and very valuable. It was in fact a large hill, and +being in the vicinity of small suburb cottages, it rose above them like +a great black mountain. Thistles, groundsel, and rank grass grew in +knots on small parts which had remained for a long time undisturbed; +crows often alighted on its top, and seemed to put on their spectacles +and become very busy and serious; flocks of sparrows often made +predatory descents upon it; an old goose and gander might sometimes be +seen following each other up its side, nearly midway; pigs rooted round +its base, and, now and then, one bolder than the rest would venture some +way up, attracted by the mixed odors of some hidden marrow-bone +enveloped in a decayed cabbage leaf--a rare event, both of these +articles being unusual oversights of the searchers below. + +The principal ingredient of all these dust-heaps is fine cinders and +ashes; but as they are accumulated from the contents of all the +dust-holes and bins of the vicinity, and as many more as possible, the +fresh arrivals in their original state present very heterogeneous +materials. We can not better describe them, than by presenting a brief +sketch of the different departments of the searchers and sorters, who +are assembled below to busy themselves upon the mass of original matters +which are shot out from the carts of the dustmen. + +The bits of coal, the pretty numerous results of accident and servants' +carelessness, are picked out, to be sold forthwith; the largest and best +of the cinders are also selected, by another party, who sell them to +laundresses, or to braziers (for whose purposes coke would not do so +well); and the next sort of cinders, called the _breeze_, because it is +left after the wind has blown the finer cinders through an upright +sieve, is sold to the brick-makers. + +Two other departments, called the "soft-ware" and the "hard-ware," are +very important. The former includes all vegetable and animal +matters--every thing that will decompose. These are selected and bagged +at once, and carried off as soon as possible, to be sold as manure for +ploughed land, wheat, barley, &c. Under this head, also, the dead cats +are comprised. They are, generally, the perquisites of the women +searchers. Dealers come to the wharf, or dust-field, every evening; they +give sixpence for a white cat, fourpence for a colored cat, and for a +black one according to her quality. The "hard-ware" includes all broken +pottery, pans, crockery, earthenware, oyster-shells, &c, which are sold +to make new roads. + +"The bones" are selected with care, and sold to the soap-boiler. He +boils out the fat and marrow first, for special use, and the bones are +then crushed and sold for manure. + +Of "rags," the woolen rags are bagged and sent off for hop-manure; the +white linen rags are washed, and sold to make paper, &c. + +The "tin things" are collected and put into an oven with a grating at +the bottom, so that the solder which unites the parts melts, and runs +through into a receiver. This is sold separately; the detached pieces of +tin are then sold to be melted up with old iron, &c. + +Bits of old brass, lead, &c., are sold to be melted up separately, or in +the mixture of ores. + +All broken glass vessels, as cruets, mustard-pots, tumblers, +wine-glasses, bottles, &c., are sold to the old-glass shops. + +As for any articles of jewelry, silver-spoons, forks, thimbles, or other +plate and valuables, they are pocketed off-hand by the first finder. +Coins of gold and silver are often found, and many "coppers." + +Meantime, every body is hard at work near the base of the great +dust-heap. A certain number of cart-loads having been raked and searched +for all the different things just described, the whole of it now +undergoes the process of sifting. The men throw up the stuff, and the +women sift it. + +"When I was a young girl," said Peg Dotting-- + +"That's a long while ago, Peggy," interrupted one of the sifters: but +Peg did not hear her. + +"When I was quite a young thing," continued she, addressing old John +Doubleyear, who threw up the dust into her sieve, "it was the fashion to +wear pink roses in the shoes, as bright as that morsel of ribbon Sally +has just picked out of the dust; yes, and sometimes in the hair, too, on +one side of the head, to set off the white powder and salve-stuff. I +never wore one of these head-dresses myself--don't throw up the dust so +high, John--but I lived only a few doors lower down from those as _did_. +Don't throw up the dust so high, I tell 'ee--the wind takes it into my +face." + +"Ah! There! What's that?" suddenly exclaimed little Jem, running as fast +as his poor withered legs would allow him, toward a fresh heap, which +had just been shot down on the wharf from a dustman's cart. He made a +dive and a search--then another--then one deeper still. "I'm _sure_ I +saw it!" cried he, and again made a dash with both hands into a fresh +place, and began to distribute the ashes, and dust, and rubbish on every +side, to the great merriment of all the rest. + +"What did you see, Jemmy?" asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate +tone. + +"Oh, I don't know," said the boy, "only it was like a bit of something +made of real gold!" + +A fresh burst of laughter from the company assembled followed this +somewhat vague declaration, to which the dustmen added one or two +elegant epithets, expressive of their contempt of the notion that _they_ +could have overlooked a bit of any thing valuable in the process of +emptying sundry dust-holes, and carting them away. + +"Ah," said one of the sifters, "poor Jem's always a-fancying something +or other good--but it never comes." + +"Didn't I find three cats this morning!" cried Jem; "two on 'em white +'uns! How you go on!" + +"I meant something quite different from the like o' that," said the +other; "I was a-thinking of the rare sights all you three there have +had, one time and another." + +The wind having changed and the day become bright, the party at work all +seemed disposed to be more merry than usual. The foregoing remark +excited the curiosity of several of the sifters, who had recently joined +the "company," the parties alluded to were requested to favor them with +the recital; and though the request was made with only a half-concealed +irony, still it was all in good-natured pleasantry, and was immediately +complied with. Old Doubleyear spoke first. + +"I had a bad night of it with the rats some years ago--they run'd all +over the floor, and over the bed, and one on 'em come'd and guv a squeak +close into my ear--so I couldn't sleep comfortable. I wouldn't ha' +minded a trifle of at; but this was too much of a good thing. So, I got +up before sun-rise, and went out for a walk; and thinking I might as +well be near our work-place, I slowly come'd down this way. I worked in +a brick-field at that time, near the canal yonder. The sun was just +a-rising up behind the dust-heap as I got in sight of it; and soon it +rose above, and was very bright; and though I had two eyes then, I was +obligated to shut them both. When I opened them again, the sun was +higher up; but in his haste to get over the dust-heap, he had dropped +something. You may laugh. I say he had dropped something. Well--I can't +say what it was, in course--a bit of his-self, I suppose. It was just +like him--a bit on him, I mean--quite as bright--just the same--only not +so big. And not up in the sky, but a-lying and sparkling all on fire +upon the dust-heap. Thinks I--I was a younger man then by some years +than I am now--I'll go and have a nearer look. Though you be a bit o' +the sun, maybe you won't hurt a poor man. So, I walked toward the +dust-heap, and up I went, keeping the piece of sparkling fire in sight +all the while. But before I got up to it, the sun went behind a +cloud--and as he went out-like, so the young 'un he had dropped, went +out after him. And I had my climb up the heap for nothing, though I had +marked the place were it lay very percizely. But there was no signs at +all on him, and no morsel left of the light as had been there. I +searched all about; but found nothing 'cept a bit o' broken glass as had +got stuck in the heel of an old shoe. And that's my story. But if ever a +man saw any thing at all, I saw a bit o' the sun; and I thank God for +it. It was a blessed sight for a poor ragged old man of three score and +ten, which was my age at that time." + +"Now, Peggy!" cried several voices, "tell us what you saw. Peg saw a bit +o' the moon." + +"No," said Mrs. Dotting, rather indignantly; "I'm no moon-raker. Not a +sign of the moon was there, nor a spark of a star--the time I speak on." + +"Well--go on, Peggy--go on." + +"I don't know as I will," said Peggy. + +But being pacified by a few good-tempered, though somewhat humorous +compliments, she thus favored them with her little adventure: + +"There was no moon, nor stars, nor comet, in the 'versal heavens, nor +lamp nor lantern along the road, when I walked home one winter's night +from the cottage of Widow Pin, where I had been to tea, with her and +Mrs. Dry, as lived in the almshouses. They wanted Davy, the son of Bill +Davy the milkman, to see me home with the lantern, but I wouldn't let +him 'cause of his sore throat. Throat!--no, it wasn't his throat as was +rare sore--it was--no, it wasn't--yes, it was--it was his toe as was +sore. His big toe. A nail out of his boot had got into it. I _told_ him +he'd be sure to have a bad toe, if he didn't go to church more regular, +but he wouldn't listen; and so my words come'd true. But, as I was +a-saying, I wouldn't let him light me with the lantern by reason of his +sore throat--_toe_, I mean--and as I went along, the night seemed to +grow darker and darker. A straight road, though, and I was so used to it +by day-time, it didn't matter for the darkness. Hows'ever, when I come'd +near the bottom of the dust-heap as I had to pass, the great dark heap +was so zackly the same as the night, you couldn't tell one from t'other. +So, thinks I to myself--_what_ was I thinking of at this moment?--for +the life o' me I can't call it to mind; but that's neither here nor +there, only for this--it was a something that led me to remember the +story of how the devil goes about like a roaring lion. And while I was +a-hoping he might not be out a-roaring that night, what should I see +rise out of one side of the dust-heap, but a beautiful shining star of a +violet color. I stood as still--as stock-still as any I don't-know-what! +There it lay, as beautiful as a new-born babe, all a-shining in the +dust! By degrees I got courage to go a little nearer--and then a little +nearer still--for, says I to myself, I'm a sinful woman, I know, but I +have repented, and do repent constantly of all the sins of my youth, and +the backslidings of my age--which have been numerous; and once I had a +very heavy backsliding--but that's neither here nor there. So, as I was +a-saying, having collected all my sinfulness of life, and humbleness +before heaven, into a goodish bit of courage, forward I steps--little +furder--and a leetle furder more--_un_-til I come'd just up to the +beautiful shining star lying upon the dust. Well, it was a long time I +stood a-looking down at it, before I ventured to do, what I arterwards +did. But _at_ last I did stoop down with both hands slowly--in case it +might burn, or bite--and gathering up a good scoop of ashes as my hands +went along, I took it up, and began a-carrying it home, all shining +before me, and with a soft, blue mist rising up round about it. Heaven +forgive me!--I was punished for meddling with what Providence had sent +for some better purpose than to be carried home by an old woman like me, +whom it has pleased heaven to afflict with the loss of one leg, and the +pain, ixpinse, and inconvenience of a wooden one. Well--I _was_ +punished; covetousness had its reward; for, presently, the violet light +got very pale, and then went out; and when I reached home, still holding +in both hands all I had gathered up, and when I took it to the candle, +it had turned into the red shell of a lobsky's head, and its two black +eyes poked up at me with a long stare--and I may say, a strong smell +too--enough to knock a poor body down." + +Great applause, and no little laughter, followed the conclusion of old +Peggy's story, but she did not join in the merriment. She said it was +all very well for young people to laugh, but at her age she had enough +to do to pray; and she had never said so many prayers, nor with so much +fervency, as she had done since she received the blessed sight of the +blue star on the dust-heap, and the chastising rod of the lobster's +head at home. + +Little Jem's turn now came; the poor lad was, however, so excited by the +recollection of what his companions called "Jem's Ghost," that he was +unable to describe it in any coherent language. To his imagination it +had been a lovely vision--the one "bright consummate flower" of his +life, which he treasured up as the most sacred image in his heart. He +endeavored, in wild and hasty words, to set forth, how that he had been +bred a chimney-sweep; that one Sunday afternoon he had left a set of +companions, most on 'em sweeps, who were all playing at marbles in the +church-yard, and he had wandered to the dust-heap, where he had fallen +asleep; that he was awoke by a sweet voice in the air, which said +something about some one having lost her way!--that he, being now wide +awake, looked up, and saw with his own eyes a young angel, with fair +hair and rosy cheeks, and large white wings at her shoulders, floating +about like bright clouds, rise out of the dust! She had on a garment of +shining crimson, which changed as he looked upon her to shining gold, +then to purple and gold. She then exclaimed, with a joyful smile, "I see +the right way!" and the next moment the angel was gone. + +As the sun was just now very bright and warm for the time of the year, +and shining full upon the dust-heap in its setting, one of the men +endeavored to raise a laugh at the deformed lad, by asking him if he +didn't expect to see just such another angel at this minute, who had +lost her way in the field on the other side of the heap; but his jest +failed. The earnestness and devout emotion of the boy to the vision of +reality which his imagination, aided by the hues of sunset, had thus +exalted, were too much for the gross spirit of banter, and the speaker +shrank back into his dust-hovel, and affected to be very assiduous in +his work as the day was drawing to a close. + +Before the day's work was ended, however, little Jem again had a glimpse +of the prize which had escaped him on the previous occasion. He +instantly darted, hands and head foremost, into the mass of cinders and +rubbish, and brought up a black mass of half-burnt parchment, entwined +with vegetable refuse, from which he speedily disengaged an oval frame +of gold, containing a miniature, still protected by its glass, but half +covered with mildew from the damp. He was in ecstasies at the prize. +Even the white cat-skins paled before it. In all probability some of the +men would have taken it from, him "to try and find the owner," but for +the presence and interference of his friends Peg Dotting and old +Doubleyear, whose great age, even among the present company, gave them a +certain position of respect and consideration. So all the rest now went +their way, leaving the three to examine and speculate on the prize. + +The dust-heaps are a wonderful compound of things. A banker's check for +a considerable sum was found in one of them. It was on Herries and +Farquhar, in 1847. But bankers' checks, or gold and silver articles, are +the least valuable of their ingredients. Among other things, a variety +of useful chemicals are extracted. Their chief value, however, is for +the making of bricks. The fine cinder-dust and ashes are used in the +clay of the bricks, both for the red and gray stacks. Ashes are also +used as fuel between the layers of the clump of bricks, which could not +be burned in that position without them. The ashes burn away, and keep +the bricks open. Enormous quantities are used. In the brick-fields at +Uxbridge, near the Drayton Station, one of the brickmakers alone will +frequently contract for fifteen or sixteen thousand chaldron of this +cinder-dust, in one order. Fine coke or coke-dust, affects the market at +times as a rival; but fine coal, or coal-dust, never, because it would +spoil the bricks. + +As one of the heroes of our tale had been originally--before his +promotion--a chimney-sweeper, it may be only appropriate to offer a +passing word on the genial subject of soot. Without speculating on its +origin and parentage, whether derived from the cooking of a Christmas +dinner, or the production of the beautiful colors and odors of exotic +plants in a conservatory, it can briefly be shown to possess many +qualities both useful and ornamental. When soot is first collected, it +is called "rough soot," which, being sifted, is then called "fine soot," +and is sold to farmers for manuring and preserving wheat and turnips. +This is more especially used in Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Essex, &c. +It is rather a costly article, being fivepence per bushel. One +contractor sells annually as much as three thousand bushels; and he +gives it as his opinion, that there must be at least one hundred and +fifty times this quantity (four hundred and fifty thousand bushels per +annum) sold in London. Farmer Smutwise of Bradford, distinctly asserts +that the price of the soot he uses on his land is returned to him in the +straw, with improvement also to the grain. And we believe him. Lime is +used to dilute soot when employed as a manure. Using it pure will keep +off snails, slugs, and caterpillars, from peas and various other +vegetables, as also from dahlias just shooting up, and other flowers; +but we regret to add that we have sometimes known it kill, or burn up +the things it was intended to preserve from unlawful eating. In short, +it is by no means so safe to use for any purpose of garden manure, as +fine cinders, and wood-ashes, which are good for almost any kind of +produce, whether turnips or roses. Indeed, we should like to have one +fourth or fifth part of our garden-beds composed of excellent stuff of +this kind. From all that has been said, it will have become very +intelligible why these dust-heaps are so valuable. Their worth, however, +varies not only with their magnitude (the quality of all of them is much +the same), but with the demand. About the year 1820, the Marylebone +dust-heap produced between four thousand and five thousand pounds. In +1832, St. George's paid Mr. Stapleton five hundred pounds a year, not +to leave the heap standing, but to carry it away. Of course he was only +too glad to be paid highly for selling his dust. + +But to return. The three friends having settled to their satisfaction +the amount of money they should probably obtain by the sale of the +golden miniature-frame, and finished the castles which they had built +with it in the air, the frame was again enfolded in the sound part of +the parchment, the rags and rottenness of the law were cast away, and up +they rose to bend their steps homeward to the little hovel where Peggy +lived, she having invited the others to tea that they might talk yet +more fully over the wonderful good luck that had befallen them. + +"Why, if there isn't a man's head in the canal!" suddenly cried little +Jem. "Looky there!--isn't that a man's head?--Yes; it's a drowndedd +man?" + +"A drowndedd man, as I live!" ejaculated old Doubleyear. + +"Let's get him out, and see!" cried Peggy. "Perhaps the poor soul's not +quite gone." + +Little Jem scuttled off to the edge of the canal, followed by the two +old people. As soon as the body had floated nearer, Jem got down into +the water, and stood breast-high, vainly measuring his distance with one +arm out, to see if he could reach some part of the body as it was +passing. As the attempt was evidently without a chance, old Doubleyear +managed to get down into the water behind him, and holding him by one +hand, the boy was thus enabled to make a plunge forward as the body was +floating by. He succeeded in reaching it; but the jerk was too much for +the weakness of his aged companion, who was pulled forward into the +canal. A loud cry burst from both of them, which was yet more loudly +echoed by Peggy on the bank. Doubleyear and the boy were now struggling +almost in the middle of the canal with the body of the man swirling +about between them. They would inevitably have been drowned, had not old +Peggy caught up a long dust-rake that was close at hand--scrambled down +up to her knees in the canal--clawed hold of the struggling group with +the teeth of the rake, and fairly brought the whole to land. Jem was +first up the bank, and helped up his two heroic companions; after which +with no small difficulty, they contrived to haul the body of the +stranger out of the water. Jem at once recognized in him the forlorn +figure of the man who had passed by in the morning, looking so sadly +into the canal, as he walked along. + +It is a fact well known to those who work in the vicinity of these great +dust-heaps, that when the ashes have been warmed by the sun, cats and +kittens that have been taken out of the canal and buried a few inches +beneath the surface, have usually revived; and the same has often +occurred in the case of men. Accordingly the three, without a moment's +hesitation, dragged the body along to the dust-heap, where they made a +deep trench, in which they placed it, covering it all over up to the +neck. + +"There now," ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover +her breath, "he'll lie very comfortable, whether or no." + +"Couldn't lie better," said old Doubleyear, "even if he knew it." + +The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result. + +"I thought I'd a lost him," said Jem, "and myself too; and when I pulled +Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world." + +"Yes," said Doubleyear, "it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had +not come in with the rake. How d'yee feel, old girl; for you've had a +narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled +you in to go with us." + +"The Lord be praised!" fervently ejaculated Peggy, pointing toward the +pallid face that lay surrounded with ashes. A convulsive twitching +passed over the features, the lips trembled, the ashes over the breast +heaved, and a low moaning sound, which might have come from the bottom +of the canal, was heard. Again the moaning sound, and then the eyes +opened, but closed almost immediately. "Poor dear soul!" whispered +Peggy, "how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don't +be afeared. We're only your good angels, like--only poor +cinder-sifters--don'tee be afeared." + +By various kindly attentions and manœuvres such as these poor people +had been accustomed to practice on those who were taken out of the +canal, the unfortunate gentleman was gradually brought to his senses. He +gazed about him, as well he might--now looking in the anxious, though +begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their "weeds" and +dust--and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now +slowly rising. + +"Land of quiet Death!" murmured he, faintly, "or land of Life, as dark +and still--I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am +now in, seems doubtful to my senses." + +"Here we are, poor gentleman," cried Peggy, "here we are, all friends +about you. How did 'ee tumble into the canal?" + +"The Earth, then, once more!" said the stranger, with a deep sigh. "I +know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes--like +Death's kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many +uses." + +"Where do you live?" asked old Doubleyear; "shall we try and take you +home, sir?" + +The stranger shook his head mournfully. All this time, little Jem had +been assiduously employed in rubbing his feet and then his hands; in +doing which the piece of dirty parchment, with the miniature-frame, +dropped out of his breast-pocket. A good thought instantly struck Peggy. + +"Run, Jemmy dear--run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the +pawnbroker's--get something upon it directly, and buy some nice +brandy--and some Godfrey's cordial--and a blanket, Jemmy--and call a +coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as +fast as you can." + +But before Jemmy could attend to this, Mr. Waterhouse, the stranger +whose life they had preserved, raised himself on one elbow, and extended +his hand to the miniature-frame. Directly he looked at it, he raised +himself higher up--turned it about once or twice--then caught up the +piece of parchment; and uttering an ejaculation, which no one could have +distinguished either as of joy or of pain, sank back fainting. + +In brief, this parchment was a portion of the title-deeds he had lost; +and though it did not prove sufficient to enable him to recover his +fortune, it brought his opponent to a composition, which gave him an +annuity for life. Small as this was, he determined that these poor +people, who had so generously saved his life at the risk of their own, +should be sharers in it. Finding that what they most desired was to have +a cottage in the neighborhood of the dust-heap, built large enough for +all three to live together, and keep a cow, Mr. Waterhouse paid a visit +to Manchester-square, where the owner of the property resided. He told +his story, as far as was needful, and proposed to purchase the field in +question. + +The great dust-contractor was much amused, and his daughter--a very +accomplished young lady--was extremely interested. So the matter was +speedily arranged to the satisfaction and pleasure of all parties. The +acquaintance, however, did not end here. Mr. Waterhouse renewed his +visits very frequently, and finally made proposals for the young lady's +hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from +her father. + +"Well, sir," said the latter, "you wish to marry my daughter, and she +wishes to marry you. You are a gentleman and a scholar, but you have no +money. My daughter is what you see, and she has no money. But I have; +and therefore, as she likes you, and I like you, I'll make you both an +offer. I will give my daughter twenty thousand pounds--or you shall have +the dust-heap. Choose!" + +Mr. Waterhouse was puzzled and amused, and referred the matter entirely +to the young lady. But she was for having the money, and no trouble. She +said the dust-heap might be worth much, but they did not understand the +business. "Very well," said her father, laughing, "then there's the +money." + +This was the identical dust-heap, as we know from authentic information, +which was subsequently sold for forty thousand pounds, and was exported +to Russia to rebuild Moscow. + + + + +SKETCHES OF ENGLISH CHARACTER. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + +THE OLD SQUIRE. + + +The old squire, or, in other words, the squire of the old school, is the +eldest born of John Bull; he is the "very moral of him;" as like him as +pea to pea. He has a tolerable share of his good qualities; and as for +his prejudices--oh, they are his meat and drink, and the very clothes +he wears. He is made up of prejudices--he is covered all over with them. +They are the staple of his dreams; they garnish his dishes, they spice +his cup, they enter into his very prayers, and they make his will +altogether. His oaks and elms in his park, and in his woods--they are +sturdy timbers, in troth, and gnarled and knotted to some purpose, for +they have stood for centuries; but what are they to the towering +upshoots of his prejudices? Oh, they are mere wands! If he has not stood +for centuries, his prejudices have; for they have come down from +generation to generation with the family and the estate. They have +ridden, to use another figure, like the Old Man of the Sea, on the +shoulders of his ancestors, and have skipped from those of one ancestor +to those of the next; and there they sit on his own most venerable, +well-fed, comfortable, ancient, and gray-eyed prejudices, as familiar to +their seat as the collar of his coat. He would take cold without them; +to part with them would be the death of him. So! don't go too +near--don't let us alarm them; for, in truth, they have had insults, and +met with impertinences of late years, and have grown fretful and +cantankerous in their old age. Nay, horrid radicals have not hesitated, +in this wicked generation, to aim sundry deadly blows at them; and it +has been all that the old squire has been able to do to protect them. +Then-- + + You need not rub them backwards like a cat, + If you would see them spirt and sparkle up. + +You have only to give one look at them, and they will appear to all in +bristles and fury, like a nest of porcupines. + +The old squire, like his father, is a sincere lover and a most hearty +hater. What does he love? Oh, he loves the country--'tis the only +country on the earth that is worth calling a country; and he loves the +constitution. But don't ask him what it is, unless you want to test the +hardness of his walking-stick; it is the constitution, the finest thing +in the world, and all the better for being, like the Athanasian creed, a +mystery. Of what use is it that the mob should understand it? It is our +glorious constitution--that is enough. Are you not contented to feel how +good it is, without going to peer into its very entrails, and perhaps +ruin it, like an ignorant fellow putting his hand into the works of a +clock? Are you not contented to let the sun shine on you? Do you want to +go up and see what it is made of? Well, then, it is the +constitution--the finest thing in the world; and, good as the country +is, it would be good for nothing without it, no more than a hare would +without stuffing, or a lantern without a candle, or the church without +the steeple or the ring of bells. Well, he loves the constitution, as he +ought to do; for has it not done well for him and his forefathers? And +has it not kept the mob in their places, spite of the French Revolution? +And taken care of the National Debt? And has it not taught us all to +"fear God and honor the king;" and given the family estate to him, the +church to his brother Ned, and put Fred and George into the army and +navy? Could there possibly be a better constitution, if the Whigs could +but let it alone with their Reform Bills? And, therefore, as he most +reasonably loves the dear, old, mysterious, and benevolent constitution +to distraction, and places it in the region of his veneration somewhere +in the seventh heaven itself, so he hates every body and thing that +hates it. + +He hates Frenchmen because he loves his country, and thinks we are +dreadfully degenerated that we do not nowadays find some cause, as the +wisdom of our ancestors did, to pick a quarrel with them, and give them +a good drubbing. Is not all our glory made up of beating the French and +the Dutch? And what is to become of history, and the army and the fleet, +if we go on this way? He does not stop to consider that the army, at +least, thrives as well with peace as war; that it continues to increase; +that it eats, drinks, and sleeps as well, and dresses better, and lives +a great deal more easily and comfortably in peace than in war. But, +then, what is to become of history, and the drubbing of the French? Who +may, however, possibly die of "envy and admiration of our glorious +constitution." + +The old squire loves the laws of England; that is, all the laws that +ever were passed by kings, lords, and commons, especially if they have +been passed some twenty years, and he has had to administer them. The +poor-law and the game-law, the impressment act, the law of +primogeniture, the law of capital punishments; all kind of private acts +for the inclosure of commons; turnpike acts, stamp acts, and acts of all +sorts; he loves and venerates them all, for they are part and parcel of +the statute law of England. As a matter of course, he hates most +religiously all offenders against such acts. The poor are a very good +sort of people; nay, he has a thorough and hereditary liking for the +poor, and they have sundry doles and messes of soup from the Hall, as +they had in his father's time, so long as they go to church, and don't +happen to be asleep there when he is awake himself; and don't come upon +the parish, or send bastards there; so long as they take off their hats +with all due reverence, and open gates when they see him coming. But if +they presume to go to the Methodists' meeting, or to a Radical club, or +complain of the price of bread, which is a grievous sin against the +agricultural interest; or to poach, which is all crimes in one--if they +fall into any of these sins, oh, then, they are poor devils indeed! Then +does the worthy old squire hate all the brood of them most righteously; +for what are they but Atheists, Jacobins, Revolutionists, Chartists, +rogues and vagabonds? With what a frown he scowls on them as he meets +them in one of the narrow old lanes, returning from some camp meeting or +other; how he expects every dark night to hear of ricks being burnt, or +pheasants shot. How does he tremble for the safety of the country while +they are at large; and with what satisfaction does he grant a warrant to +bring them before him; and, as a matter of course, how joyfully, spite +of all pleas and protestations of innocence, does he commit them to the +treadmill, or the county jail, for trial at the quarter sessions. + +He has a particular affection for the quarter sessions, for there he, +and his brethren all put together, make, he thinks, a tolerable +representation of majesty; and thence he has the satisfaction of seeing +all the poachers transported beyond the seas. The county jail and the +house of correction are particular pets of his. He admires even their +architecture, and prides himself especially on the size and massiveness +of the prison. He used to extend his fondness even to the stocks; but +the treadmill, almost the only modern thing which has wrought such a +miracle, has superseded it in his affections, and the ancient stocks now +stand deserted, and half lost in a bed of nettles; but he still looks +with a gracious eye on the parish pound, and returns the pinder's touch +of his hat with a marked attention, looking upon him as one of the most +venerable appendages of antique institutions. + +Of course the old squire loves the church. Why, it is ancient, and that +is enough of itself; but, beside that, all the wisdom of his ancestors +belonged to it. His great-great-uncle was a bishop; his wife's +grandfather was a dean; he has the presentation of the living, which is +now in the hands of his brother Ned; and he has himself all the great +tithes which, in the days of popery, belonged to it. He loves it all the +better, because he thinks that the upstart dissenters want to pull it +down; and he hates all upstarts. And what! Is it not the church of the +queen, and the ministers, and all the nobility, and of all the old +families? It is the only religion for a gentleman, and, therefore, it is +his religion. Would the dissenting minister hob-nob with him as +comfortably over the after-dinner bottle as Ned does, and play a rubber +as comfortably with him, and let him swear a comfortable oath now and +then? 'Tis not to be supposed. Besides, of what family is this +dissenting minister? Where does he spring from? At what university did +he graduate? 'Twon't do for the old squire. No! the clerk, the sexton, +and the very churchwardens of the time being, partake, in his eye, of +the time-tried sanctity of the good old church, and are bound up in the +bundle of his affections. + +These are a few of the old squire's likings and antipathies, which are +just as much part of himself, as the entail is of his inheritance. But +we shall see yet more of them when we come to see more of him and his +abode. The old squire is turned of threescore, and every thing is old +about him. He lives in an old house in the midst of an old park, which +has a very old wall, end gates so old, that though they are made of oak +as hard as iron, they begin to stoop in the shoulders, like the old +gentleman himself and the carpenter, who is an old man too, and has +been watching them forty years in hopes of their tumbling, and gives +them a good lusty bang after him every time he passes through, swears +they must have been made in the days of King Canute. The squire has an +old coach drawn by two and occasionally by four old fat horses, and +driven by a jolly old coachman, in which his old lady and his old maiden +sister ride; for he seldom gets into it himself, thinking it a thing fit +only for women and children, preferring infinitely the back of Jack, his +old roadster. + +If you went to dine with him, you would find him just as you would have +found his father; not a thing has been changed since his days. There is +the great entrance hall, with its cold stone floor, and its fine +tall-backed chairs, and an old walnut cabinet; and on the walls a +quantity of stags' horns, with caps and riding-whips hung on them; and +the pictures of his ancestors, in their antiquated dresses, and slender, +tarnished, antiquated frames. In his drawing-room you will find none of +your new grand pianos and fashionable couches and ottomans; but an old +spinet and a fiddle, another set of those long-legged, tall-backed +chairs, two or three little settees, a good massy table, and a fine +large carved mantle-piece, with bright steel dogs instead of a modern +stove, and logs of oak burning, if it be cold. At table, all his plate +is of the most ancient make, and he drinks toasts and healths in +tankards of ale that is strong enough to make a horse reel, but which he +continually avows is as mild as mother's milk, and wouldn't hurt an +infant. He has an old rosy butler, and loves very old venison, which +fills the whole house with its perfume while roasting; and an old +double-Gloucester cheese, full of jumpers and mites; and after it a +bottle of old port, at which he is often joined by the parson, and +always by a queer, quiet sort of a tall, thin man, in a seedy black +coat, and with a crimson face, bearing testimony to the efficacy of the +squire's port and "mother's milk." + +This man is always to be seen about, and has been these twenty years. He +goes with the squire a-coursing and shooting, and into the woods with +him. He carries his shot-belt and powder-flask, and gives him out his +chargings and his copper caps. He is as often seen about the steward's +house; and he comes in and out of the squire's just as he pleases, +always seating himself in a particular chair near the fire, and pinches +the ears of the dogs, and gives the cat, now and then, a pinch of snuff +as she lies sleeping in a chair; and when the squire's old lady says, +"How _can_ you do so, Mr. Wagstaff?" he only gives a quiet, chuckling +laugh, and says, "Oh, they like it, madam; they like it, you may +depend." That is the longest speech he ever makes, for he seldom does +more than say "yes" and "no" to what is said to him, and still oftener +gives only a quiet smile and a soft of little nasal "hum." The squire +has a vast affection for him, and always walks up to the little chamber +which is allotted to him, once a week, to see that the maid does not +neglect it; though at table he cuts many a sharp joke upon Wagstaff, to +which Wagstaff only returns a smile and a shake of the head, which is +more full of meaning to the squire than a long speech. Such is the old +squire's constant companion. + +But we have not yet done with the squire's antiquities. He has an old +woodman, an old shepherd, an old justice's clerk, and almost all his +farmers are old. He seems to have an antipathy to almost every thing +that is not old. Young men are his aversion; they are such coxcombs, he +says, nowadays. The only exception is a young woman. He always was a +great admirer of the fair sex; though we are not going to rake up the +floating stories of the neighborhood about the gallantries of his youth; +but his lady, who is justly considered to have been as fine a woman as +ever stepped in shoe-leather, is a striking proof of his judgment in +women. Never, however, does his face relax into such pleasantness of +smiles and humorous twinkles of the eye, as when he is in company with +young ladies. He is full of sly compliments and knowing hints about +their lovers, and is universally reckoned among them "a dear old +gentleman." + +When he meets a blooming country damsel crossing the park, or as he +rides along a lane, he is sure to stop and have a word with her. "Aha, +Mary! I know you, there! I can tell you by your mother's eyes and lips +that you've stole away from her. Ay, you're a pretty slut enough, but I +remember your mother. Gad! I don't know whether you are entitled to +carry her slippers after her! But never mind, you're handsome enough; +and I reckon you're going to be married directly. Well, well, I won't +make you blush; so, good-by, Mary, good-by! Father and mother are both +hearty--eh?" + +The routine of the old squire's life may be summed up in a sentence: +hearing cases and granting warrants and licenses, and making out +commitments as justice; going through the woods to look after the +growth, and trimming, and felling of his trees; going out with his +keeper to reconnoitre the state of his covers and preserves; attending +quarter sessions; dining occasionally with the judge on circuit; +attending the county ball and the races; hunting and shooting, dining +and singing a catch or glee with Wagstaff and the parson over his port. +He has a large, dingy room, surrounded with dingy folios, and other +books in vellum bindings, which he calls his library. Here he sits as +justice; and here he receives his farmers on rent-days, and a wonderful +effect it has on their imaginations; for who can think otherwise than +that the squire must be a prodigious scholar, seeing all that array of +big books? And, in fact, the old squire is a great reader in his own +line. He reads the _Times_ daily; and he reads Gwillim's "Heraldry," the +"History of the Landed Gentry," Rapin's "History of England," and all +the works of Fielding, Richardson, and Sterne, whom he declares to be +the greatest writers England ever produced, or ever will produce. + +But the old squire is not without his troubles. In his serious judgment +all the world is degenerating. The nation is running headlong to ruin. +"Lord, how different it was in my time!" is his constant exclamation. +The world is now completely turned topsy-turvy. Here is the Reform Bill, +the New Poor-law, which though it does make sharp work among the rogues +and vagabonds, yet has sorely shorn the authority of magistrates. Here +are the New Game-laws, Repeal of the Corn-laws, and the Navigation-laws; +new books, all trash and nonsense; and these harum-scarum railroads, +cutting up the country and making it dangerous to be riding out any +where. "Just," says he, "as a sober gentleman is riding quietly by the +side of his wood, bang! goes that 'hell-in-harness,' a steam-engine, +past. Up goes the horse, down goes the rider to a souse in the ditch, +and a broken collar bone." + +Then all the world is now running all over the continent, learning all +sorts of Frenchified airs and fashions and notions, and beggaring +themselves into the bargain. He never set foot on the d--d, beggarly, +frog-eating Continent--not he! It was thought enough to live at home, +and eat good roast beef, and sing "God save the King," in his time; but +now a man is looked upon as a mere clown who has not run so far round +the world that he can seldom ever find his way back again to his +estate, but stops short in London, where all the extravagance and +nonsense in creation are concentrated, to help our mad gentry out of +their wits and their money together. The old squire groans here in +earnest; for his daughter, who has married Sir Benjamin Spankitt, and +his son Tom, who has married the Lady Babara Ridemdown, are as mad as +the rest of them. + +Of Tom, the young squire, we shall take a more complete view anon. But +there is another of the old squire's troubles yet to be noticed, and +that is in the shape of an upstart. One of the worst features of the +times is the growth and spread of upstarts. Old families going down, as +well as old customs, and new people, who are nobody, taking their +places. Old estates bought up--not by the old gentry, who are scattering +their money in London, and among all the grinning monsieurs, mynheers, +and signores, on the frogified continent, but by the soap-boilers and +sugar-bakers of London. The country gentry, he avers, have been fools +enough to spend their money in London, and now the people they have +spent it among are coming and buying up all the estates about them. Ask +him, as you ride out with him by the side of some great wood or +venerable park, "What old family lives there?" "Old family!" he +exclaims, with an air of angry astonishment; "old family! Where do you +see old families nowadays? That is Sir Peter Post, the great +horse-racer, who was a stable-boy not twenty years ago; and that great +brick house on the hill there is the seat of one of the great Bearrings, +who have made money enough among the bulls and bears to buy up the +estates of half the fools hereabout. But that is nothing; I can assure +you, men are living in halls and abbeys in these parts, who began their +lives in butchers' shops and cobblers' stalls." + +It might, however, be tolerated that merchants and lawyers, +stock-jobbers, and even sugar-bakers and soap-boilers, should buy up the +old houses; but the most grievous nuisance, and perpetual thorn in the +old squire's side, is Abel Grundy, the son of an old wheelwright, who, +by dint of his father's saving and his own sharpness, has grown into a +man of substance under the squire's own nose. Abel began by buying odds +and ends of lands and scattered cottages, which did not attract the +squire's notice; till at length, a farm being to be sold, which the +squire meant to have, and did not fear any opponent, Abel Grundy bid for +it, and bought it, striking the old steward actually dumb with +astonishment; and then it was found that all the scattered lots which +Grundy had been buying up, lay on one side or other of this farm, and +made a most imposing whole. To make bad worse, Grundy, instead of taking +off his hat when he met the old squire, began now to lift up his own +head very high; built a grand house on the land plump opposite to the +squire's hall-gates; has brought a grand wife--a rich citizen's +daughter; set up a smart carriage; and as the old squire is riding out +on his old horse Jack, with his groom behind him, on a roan pony with a +whitish mane and tail, the said groom having his master's great coat +strapped to his back, as he always has on such occasions, drives past +with a dash and a cool impudence that are most astonishing. + +The only comfort that the old squire has in the case is talking of the +fellow's low origin. "Only to think," says he, "that this fellow's +father hadn't even wood enough to make a wheel-barrow till my family +helped him; and I have seen this scoundrel himself scraping manure in +the high roads, before he went to the village school in the morning, +with his toes peeping out of his shoes, and his shirt hanging like a +rabbit's tail out of his ragged trowsers; and now the puppy talks of 'my +carriage,' and 'my footman,' and says that 'he and _his lady purpose_ to +spend the winter in _the_ town,' meaning London!" + +Wagstaff laughs at the squire's little criticism on Abel Grundy, and +shakes his head; but he can not shake the chagrin out of the old +gentleman's heart. Abel Grundy's upstart greatness will be the death of +the OLD SQUIRE. + + * * * * * + +THE YOUNG SQUIRE. + + By smiling fortune blessed + With large demesnes, hereditary wealth. + SOMERVILLE. + + +The Old Squire and the Young Squire are the antipodes of each other. +They are representatives of two entirely different states of society in +this country; the one, but the vestige of that which has been; the +other, the full and perfect image of that which is. The old squires are +like the last fading and shriveled leaves of autumn that yet hang on +the tree. A few more days will pass; age will send one of his nipping +nights, and down they will twirl, and be swept away into the oblivious +hiding-places of death, to be seen no more. But the young squire is one +of the full-blown blossoms of another summer. He is flaunting in the +sunshine of a state of wealth and luxury, which we, as our fathers in +their days did, fancy can by no possibility be carried many degrees +farther, and yet we see it every day making some new and extraordinary +advance. + +It is obvious that there are many intervening stages of society, among +our country gentry, between the old squire and the young, as there are +intermediate degrees of age. The old squires are those of the completely +last generation, who have outlived their contemporaries, and have made a +dead halt on the ground of their old habits, sympathies, and opinions, +and are resolved to quit none of them for what they call the follies and +new-fangled notions of a younger, and, of course, more degenerate race. +They are continually crying, "Oh, it never was so in my day!" They point +to tea, and stoves in churches, and the universal use of umbrellas, +parasols, cork-soled shoes, warming-pans, and carriages, as +incontestible proofs of the rapidly-increasing effeminacy of mankind. +But between these old veterans and their children, there are the men of +the middle ages, who have, more or less, become corrupted with modern +ways and indulgences; have, more or less, introduced modern furniture, +modern hours, modern education, and tastes, and books; and have, more or +less, fallen into the modern custom of spending a certain part of the +year in London. With these we have nothing whatever to do. The old +squire is the landmark of the ancient state of things, and his son Tom +is the epitome of the new; all between is a mere transition and +evanescent condition. + +Tom Chesselton was duly sent by his father to Eton as a boy, where he +became a most accomplished scholar in cricket, boxing, horses, and dogs, +and made the acquaintance of several lords, who taught him the way of +letting his father's money slip easily through his fingers without +burning them, and engrafted him besides with a fine stock of truly +aristocratic tastes, which will last him his whole life. From Eton he +was duly transferred to Oxford, where he wore his gown and trencher-cap +with a peculiar grace, and gave a classic finish to his taste in horses, +in driving, and in ladies. Having completed his education with great +_éclat_, he was destined by his father to a few years' soldiership in +the militia, as being devoid of all danger, and moreover, giving +opportunities for seeing a great deal of the good old substantial +families in different parts of the kingdom. But Tom turned up his nose, +or rather his handsome upper lip, with a most consummate scorn at so +groveling a proposal, and assured his father that nothing but a +commission in the Guards, where several of his noble friends were doing +distinguished honor to their country, by the display of their fine +figures, would suit him. The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders and +was silent, thinking that the six thousand pounds purchase-money would +be quite as well at fifteen per cent. in turnpike shares a little +longer. But Tom, luckily, was not doomed to rusticate long in melancholy +under his patrimonial oaks: his mother's brother, an old bachelor of +immense wealth, died just in time, leaving Tom's sister, Lady Spankitt, +thirty thousand pounds in the funds; and Tom, as heir-at-law, his great +Irish estates. Tom, on the very first vacancy, bought into the Guards, +and was soon marked out by the ladies as one of the most _distingué_ +officers that ever wore a uniform. In truth, Tom was a very handsome +fellow; that he owed to his parents, who, in their day, were as +noble-looking a couple as ever danced at a county-ball, or graced the +balcony of a race-stand. + +Tom soon married; but he did not throw himself away sentimentally on a +mere face; he achieved the hand of the sister of one of his old college +chums, and now brother-officer--the Lady Barbara Ridemdown. An earl's +daughter was something in the world's eye; but such an earl's daughter +as Lady Barbara, was the height of Tom's ambition. She was equally +celebrated for her wit, her beauty, and her large fortune. Tom had won +her from amid the very blaze of popularity and the most splendid offers. +Their united fortunes enabled them to live in the highest style. Lady +Barbara's rank and connections demanded it, and the spirit of our young +squire required it as much. Tom Chesselton disdained to be a whit behind +any of his friends, however wealthy or high titled. His tastes were +purely aristocratic; with him, dress, equipage, and amusements, were +matters of science. He knew, both from a proud instinct and from study, +what was precisely the true _ton_ in every article of dress or equipage, +and the exact etiquette in every situation. But Lady Barbara panted to +visit the Continent, where she had already spent some years, and which +presented so many attractions to her elegant tastes. Tom had elegant +tastes, too, in his way; and to the Continent they went. The old squire +never set his foot on even the coast of Calais: when he has seen it from +Dover, he has only wished that he could have a few hundred tons of +gunpowder, and blow it into the air; but Tom and Lady Barbara have lived +on the Continent for years. + +This was a bitter pill for the old squire. When Tom purchased his +commission in the Guards, and when he opened a house like a palace, on +his wedding with Lady Barbara, the old gentleman felt proud of his son's +figure, and proud of his connections. "Ah," said he, "Tom's a lad of +spirit; he'll sow his wild oats, and come to his senses presently." But +when he fairly embarked for France, with a troop of servants, and a +suite of carriages, like a nobleman, then did the old fellow fairly +curse and swear, and call him all the unnatural and petticoat-pinioned +fools in his vocabulary, and prophesy his bringing his ninepence to a +groat. Tom and Lady Barbara, however, upheld the honor of England all +over the Continent. In Paris, at the baths of Germany, at Vienna, +Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples--every where, they were distinguished by +their fine persons, their fine equipage, their exquisite tastes, and +their splendid entertainments. They were courted and caressed by all the +distinguished, both of their own countrymen and of foreigners. Tom's +horses and equipage were the admiration of the natives. He drove, he +rode, he yachted, to universal admiration; and, meantime, his lady +visited all the galleries and works of art, and received in her house +all the learned and the literary of all countries. There, you always +found artists, poets, travelers, critics, _dilettanti_, and +connoisseurs, of all nations and creeds. + +They have again honored their country with their presence; and who so +much the fashion as they? They are, of course, _au fait_ in every matter +of taste and fashion; on all questions of foreign life, manners, and +opinions, their judgment is the law. Their town-house is in +Eaton-square; and what a house is that! What a paradise of fairy +splendor! what a mine of wealth, in the most superb furniture, in books +in all languages, paintings, statuary, and precious fragments of the +antique, collected out of every classical city and country. If you see a +most exquisitely tasteful carriage, with a most fascinatingly beautiful +lady in it, in the park, amid all the brilliant concourse of the ring, +you may be sure you see the celebrated Lady Barbara Chesselton; and you +can not fail to recognize Tom Chesselton the moment you clap eyes on +him, by his distinguished figure, and the splendid creature on which he +is mounted--to say nothing of the perfection of his groom, and the steed +which he also bestrides. Tom never crosses the back of a horse of less +value than a thousand pounds; and if you want to know really what horses +are, you must go down to his villa at Wimbledon, if you are not lucky +enough to catch a sight of him proceeding to a levee, or driving his +four-in-hand to Ascot or Epsom. All Piccadilly has been seen to stand, +lost in silent admiration, as he has driven his splendid britchzka along +it, with his perfection of a little tiger by his side; and such cattle +as never besides were seen in even harness of such richness and +elegance. Nay, some scores of ambitious young whips became sick of their +envy of his superb gauntlet driving-gloves. + +But, in fact, in Tom's case, as in all others, you have only to know his +companions to know him; and who are they but Chesterfield, Conyngham, +D'Orsay, Eglintoun, my Lord Waterford, and men of similar figure and +reputation. To say that he is well known to all the principal +frequenters of the Carlton Club; that his carriages are of the most +perfect make ever turned out by Windsor; that his harness is only from +Shipley's; and that Stultz has the honor of gracing his person with his +habiliments; is to say that our young squire is one of the most perfect +men of fashion in England. Lady Barbara and himself have a common +ground of elegance of taste, and knowledge of the first principles of +genuine aristocratic life; but they have very different pursuits, +arising from the difference of their genius, and they follow them with +the utmost mutual approbation. + +Lady Barbara is at once the worshiped beauty, the woman of fashion, and +of literature. No one has turned so many heads, by the loveliness of her +person, and the bewitching fascination of her manners, as Lady Barbara. +She is a wit, a poetess, a connoisseur in art; and what can be so +dangerously delightful as all these characters in a fashionable beauty, +and a woman, moreover, of such rank and wealth? She does the honors of +her house to the mutual friends and noble connections of her husband and +herself with a perpetual grace; but she has, besides, her evenings for +the reception of her literary and artistic acquaintance and admirers. +And who, of all the throng of authors, artists, critics, journalists, +connoisseurs, and amateurs, who flock there are not her admirers? Lady +Barbara Chesselton writes travels, novels, novellets, philosophical +reflections, poems, and almost every species of thing which ever has +been written--such is the universality of her knowledge, experience, and +genius: and who does not hasten to be the first to pour out in reviews, +magazines, daily and hebdomadal journals, the earliest and most fervid +words of homage and admiration? Lady Barbara edits an annual, and is a +contributor to the "Keepsake;" and in her kindness, she is sure to find +out all the nice young men about the press; to encourage them by her +smile, and to raise them, by her fascinating conversation and her +brilliant saloons, above those depressing influences of a too sensitive +modesty, which so weighs on the genius of the youth of this age; so that +she sends them away, all heart and soul, in the service of herself and +literature, which are the same thing; and away they go, extemporizing +praises on her ladyship, and spreading them through leaves of all sizes, +to the wondering eyes of readers all the world over. Publishers run with +their unsalable manuscripts, and beg Lady Barbara to have the goodness +to put her name on the title, knowing by golden experience that one +stroke of her pen, like the point of a galvanic wire, will turn all the +dullness of the dead mass into flame. Lady Barbara is not barbarous +enough to refuse so simple and complimentary a request; nay, her +benevolence extends on every hand. Distressed authors, male and female, +who have not her rank, and, therefore, most clearly not her genius, beg +her to take their literary bantlings under her wing; and with a heart, +as full of generous sympathies as her pen is of magic, she writes but +her name on the title as an "Open Sesame!" and lo! the dead become +alive; her genius permeates the whole volume, which that moment puts +forth wings of popularity, and flies into every bookseller's shop and +every circulating library in the kingdom. + +Such is the life of glory and Christian benevolence which Lady Barbara +daily leads, making authors, critics, and publishers all happy together, +by the overflowing radiance of her indefatigable and inexhaustible +genius, though she sometimes slyly laughs to herself, and says, "What a +thing is a title! if it were not for that, would all these people come +to me?" While Tom, who is member of parliament for the little borough of +Dearish, most patriotically discharges his duty by pairing off--visits +the classic grounds of Ascot, Epsom, Newmarket, or Goodwood, or +traverses the moors of Scotland and Ireland in pursuit of grouse. But +once a year they indulge their filial virtues in a visit to the old +squire. The old squire, we are sorry to say, has grown of late years +queer and snappish, and does not look on this visit quite as gratefully +as he should. "If they would but come," he says, "in a quiet way, as I +used to ride over and see my father in his time, why I should be right +glad to see them; but, here they come, like the first regiment of an +invading army, and God help those who are old, and want to be quiet!" + +The old gentleman, moreover, is continually haranguing about Tom's folly +and extravagance. It is his perpetual topic to his wife, and wife's +maiden sister, and Wagstaff. Wagstaff only shakes his head, and says, +"Young blood! young blood!" but Mrs. Chesselton and the maiden sister +say, "Oh! Mr. Chesselton, you don't consider: Tom has great connections, +and he is obliged to keep a certain establishment. Things are different +now to what they were in our time. Tom is universally allowed to be a +very fine man, and Lady Barbara is a very fine woman, and a prodigious +clever woman! and you ought to be proud of them, Chesselton." At which +the old gentleman breaks out, if he be a little elevated over his wine: + + When the Duke of Leeds shall married be + To a fine young lady of high quality, + How happy will that gentlewoman be + In his grace of Leeds good company! + + She shall have all that's fine and fair, + And the best of silk and satin to wear; + And ride in a coach to take the air, + And have a house in St. James's-square. + +Lady Barbara always professes great affection and reverence for the old +gentleman, and sends him many merry and kind compliments and messages; +and sends him, moreover, her new books as soon as they are out, most +magnificently bound; but all won't do. He only says, "If she'd please +me, she'd give up that cursed opera-box. Why, the rent of that +thing--only to sit in and hear Italian women squealing and squalling, +and to see impudent, outlandish baggages kicking up their heels higher +than any decent heads ought to be--the rent, I say, would maintain a +parish rector, or keep half-a-dozen parish schools a-going." As for her +books, that all the world besides are in raptures about, the old squire +turns them over as a dog would a hot dumpling; says nothing but a Bible +ought to be so extravagantly bound; and professes that "the matter may +all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it." Yet, +whenever Lady Barbara is with him, she is sure to talk and smile herself +in about half an hour into his high favor; and he begins to run about to +show her this and that, and calls out every now and then, "Let Lady +Barbara see this, and go to look at that." She can do any thing with +him, except get him to London. "London!" he exclaims; "no; get me to +Bedlam at once! What has a rusty old fellow, like me, to do at London? +If I could find again the jolly set that used to meet, thirty years ago, +at the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, it might do; but London isn't what +London used to be. It's too fine by half for a country squire, and would +drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and +nonsense." + +But the old squire does get pretty well distracted with the annual +visit. Down come driving the young squire and Lady Barbara, with a train +of carriages like a fleet of men-of-war, leading the way with their +traveling-coach and four horses. Up they twirl to the door of old hall. +The old bell rings a thundering peal through the house. Doors fly +open--out come servants--down come the young guests from their +carriages; and while embraces and salutations are going on in the +drawing-room, the hall is fast filling with packages upon packages; +servants are running to and fro along the passages; grooms and carriages +are moving off to the stables without; there is lifting and grunting at +portmanteaus and imperials, as they are borne up-stairs; while ladies' +maids and nursemaids are crying out, "Oh, take care of that trunk!" +"Mind that ban'-box!" "Oh, gracious! that is my lady's dressing-case; it +will be down, and be totally ruined!" Dogs are barking; children crying, +or romping about, and the whole house in the most blessed state of +bustle and confusion. + +For a week the hurly-burly continues; in pour all the great people to +see Tom and Lady Barbara. There are shootings in the mornings, and great +dinner parties in the evenings. Tom and my lady have sent down before +them plenty of hampers of such wines as the old squire neither keeps nor +drinks, and they have brought their plate along with them; and the old +house itself is astonished at the odors of champagne, claret, and hook, +that pervade, and at the glitter of gold and silver in it. The old man +is full of attention and politeness, both to his guests and to their +guests; but he is half worried with the children, and t'other half +worried with so many fine folks; and muddled with drinking things that +he is not used to, and with late hours. Wagstaff has fled--as he always +does on such occasions--to a farm-house on the verge of the estate. The +hall, and the parsonage, and even the gardener's house, are all full of +beds for guests, and servants, and grooms. Presently, the old gentleman, +in his morning rides, sees some of the young bucks shooting the +pheasants in his home-park, where he never allows them to be disturbed, +and comes home in a fume, to hear that the house is turned upside-down +by the host of scarlet-breeched and powdered livery-servants, and that +they have turned all the maids' heads with sweethearting. But, at +length, the day of departure arrives, and all sweep away as suddenly and +rapidly as they came; and the old squire sends off for Wagstaff, and +blesses his stars that what he calls "the annual hurricane," is over. + +But what a change will there be when the old squire is dead! Already +have Tom and Lady Barbara walked over the ground, and planned it. That +horrid fright of an old house, as they call it, will be swept as clean +away as if it had not stood there five hundred years. A grand +Elizabethean pile is already decreed to succeed it. The fashionable +architect will come driving down in his smart Brougham, with all his +plans and papers. A host of mechanics will come speedily after him, by +coach or by wagon: booths will be seen rising all around the old place, +which will vanish away, and its superb successor rise where it stood, +like a magical vision. Already are ponderous cases lying loaded, in +London, with massive mantle-pieces of the finest Italian marble, marble +busts, and heads of old Greek and Roman heroes, genuine burial-urns from +Herculaneum and Pompeii, and vessels of terra-cotta, +gloriously-sculptured vases, and even columns of verde antique--all from +classic Italy--to adorn the walls of this same noble new house. + +But, meantime, spite of the large income of Tom and Lady Barbara, the +old squire has strange suspicions of mortgages, and dealings with Jews. +He has actually inklings of horrid post-obits; and groans as he looks on +his old oaks, as he rides through his woods and parks, foreseeing their +overthrow; nay, he fancies he sees the land-agent among his quiet old +farmers, like a wild-cat in a rabbit warren, startling them out of their +long dream of ease and safety, with news of doubled rents, and notices +to quit, to make way for threshing-machines, winnowing-machines, +corn-crushers, patent ploughs, scufflers, scarifiers, and young men of +more enterprise. And, sure enough, such will be the order of the day the +moment the estate falls to the YOUNG SQUIRE.--_Country Year Book._ + + + + +[From Hogg's Instructor.] + +PRESENCE OF MIND--A FRAGMENT. + +BY THOMAS DE QUINCEY. + + +The Roman _formula_ for summoning an earnest concentration of the +faculties upon any object whatever, that happened to be critically +urgent, was _Hoc age_, "Mind _this_!" or, in other words, do not mind +_that_--_non illud age_. The antithetic formula was "_aliud_ agere," to +mind something alien, or remote from the interest then clamoring for +attention. Our modern military orders of "_Attention!_" and "_Eyes +strait!_" were both included in the "_Hoc age_." In the stern +peremptoriness of this Roman formula we read a picturesque expression of +the Roman character both as to its strength and its weakness--of the +energy which brooked no faltering or delay (for beyond all other races +the Roman was _natus rebus agendis_)--and also of the morbid craving for +action, which was intolerant of any thing but the intensely practical. + +In modern times, it is we of the Anglo-Saxon blood, that is, the British +and the Americans of the United States, who inherit the Roman +temperament with its vices and its fearful advantages of power. In the +ancient Roman these vices appeared more barbarously conspicuous. We, the +countrymen of Lord Bacon and Sir Isaac Newton, and at one time the +leaders of austere thinking, can not be supposed to shrink from the +speculative through any native incapacity for sounding its depths. But +the Roman had a real inaptitude for the speculative: to _him_ nothing +was real that was not practical. He had no metaphysics; he wanted the +metaphysical instinct. There was no school of _native_ Roman philosophy: +the Roman was merely an eclectic or _dilettanti_ picking up the crumbs +which fell from Grecian tables; and even mathematics was so repulsive in +its sublimer aspects to the Roman mind, that the very word mathematics +had in Rome collapsed into another name for the dotages of astrology. +The mathematician was a mere variety of expression for the wizard or the +conjurer. + +From this unfavorable aspect of the Roman intellect it is but justice +that we should turn away to contemplate those situations in which that +same intellect showed itself preternaturally strong. To face a sudden +danger by a corresponding weight of sudden counsel or sudden +evasion--_that_ was a privilege essentially lodged in the Roman mind. +But in every nation some minds much more than others are representative +of the national type: they are normal minds, reflecting, as in a focus, +the characteristics of the race. Thus Louis XIV. has been held to be the +idealized expression of the French character; and among the Romans there +can not be a doubt that the first Cæsar offers in a rare perfection the +revelation of that peculiar grandeur which belonged to the children of +Romulus. + +What _was_ that grandeur? We do not need, in this place, to attempt its +analysis. One feature will suffice for our purpose. The late celebrated +John Foster, in his essay on decision of character, among the accidents +of life which might serve to strengthen the natural tendencies to such a +character, or to promote its development, rightly insists on +_desertion_. To find itself in solitude, and still more to find itself +thrown upon that state of abandonment by sudden treachery, crushes the +feeble mind, but rouses a terrific reaction of haughty self-assertion in +that order of spirits which matches and measures itself against +difficulty and danger. There is something corresponding to this case of +human treachery in the sudden caprices of fortune. A danger, offering +itself unexpectedly in some momentary change of blind external agencies, +assumes to the feelings the character of a perfidy accomplished by +mysterious powers, and calls forth something of the same resentment, and +in a gladiatorial intellect something of the same spontaneous +resistance. A sword that breaks in the very crisis of a duel, a horse +killed by a flash of lightning in the moment of collision with the +enemy, a bridge carried away by an avalanche at the instant of a +commencing retreat, affect the feelings like dramatic incidents +emanating from a human will. This man they confound and paralyze, that +man they rouse into resistance, as by a personal provocation and insult. +And if it happens that these opposite effects show themselves in cases +wearing a national importance, they raise what would else have been a +mere casualty into the tragic or the epic grandeur of a fatality. The +superb character, for instance, of Cæsar's intellect throws a colossal +shadow as of predestination over the most trivial incidents of his +career. On the morning of Pharsalia, every man who reads a record of +that mighty event feels[D] by a secret instinct that an earthquake is +approaching which must determine the final distribution of the ground, +and the relations among the whole family of man through a thousand +generations. Precisely the inverse case is realized in some modern +sections of history, where the feebleness or the inertia of the +presiding intellect communicates a character of triviality to events +that otherwise are of paramount historical importance. In Cæsar's case, +simply through the perfection of his preparations arrayed against all +conceivable contingencies, there is an impression left as of some +incarnate Providence, vailed in a human form, ranging through the ranks +of the legions; while, on the contrary, in the modern cases to which we +allude, a mission, seemingly authorized by inspiration, is suddenly +quenched, like a torch falling into water, by the careless character of +the superintending intellect. Neither case is without its appropriate +interest. The spectacle of a vast historical dependency, pre-organized +by an intellect of unusual grandeur, wears the grace of congruity and +reciprocal proportion. And on the other hand, a series of mighty events +contingent upon the motion this way or that of a frivolous hand, or +suspended on the breath of caprice, suggests the wild and fantastic +disproportions of ordinary life, when the mighty masquerade moves on +forever through successions of the gay and the solemn--of the petty and +the majestic. + +Cæsar's cast of character owed its impressiveness to the combination +which it offered of moral grandeur and monumental immobility, such as we +see in Marius, with the dazzling intellectual versatility found in the +Gracchi, in Sylla, in Catiline, in Antony. The comprehension and the +absolute perfection of his prescience did not escape the eye of Lucan, +who describes him as--"Nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum." +A fine lambent gleam of his character escapes also in that magnificent +fraction of a line, where he is described as one incapable of learning +the style and sentiments suited to a private interest--"Indocilis +privata loqui." + +There has been a disposition manifested among modern writers to disturb +the traditional characters of Cæsar and his chief antagonist. +Audaciously to disparage Cæsar, and without a shadow of any new historic +grounds to exalt his feeble competitor, has been adopted as the best +chance for filling up the mighty gulf between them. Lord Brougham, for +instance, on occasion of a dinner given by the Cinque Ports at Dover to +the Duke of Wellington, vainly attempted to raise our countryman by +unfounded and romantic depreciations of Cæsar. He alleged that Cæsar had +contended only with barbarians. Now, _that_ happens to be the literal +truth as regards Pompey. The victories on which his early reputation was +built were won from semi-barbarians--luxurious, it is true, but also +effeminate in a degree never suspected at Rome until the next +generation. The slight but summary contest of Cæsar with Pharnaces, the +son of Mithridates, dissipated at once the cloud of ignorance in which +Rome had been involved on this subject by the vast distance and the +total want of familiarity with Oriental habits. But Cæsar's chief +antagonists, those whom Lord Brougham specially indicated, viz., the +Gauls, were _not_ barbarians. As a military people, they were in a stage +of civilization next to that of the Romans. They were quite as much +_aguerris_, hardened and seasoned to war, as the children of Rome. In +certain military habits they were even superior. For purposes of war +four races were then pre-eminent in Europe--viz., the Romans, the +Macedonians, certain select tribes among the mixed population of the +Spanish peninsula, and finally the Gauls. These were all open to the +recruiting parties of Cæsar; and among them all he had deliberately +assigned his preference to the Gauls. The famous legion, who carried the +_Alauda_ (the lark) upon their helmets, was raised in Gaul from Cæsar's +private funds. They composed a select and favored division in his army, +and, together with the famous tenth legion, constituted a third part of +his forces--a third numerically on the day of battle, but virtually a +half. Even the rest of Cæsar's army had been for so long a space +recruited in the Gauls, Transalpine as well as Cisalpine, that at +Pharsalia the bulk of his forces is known to have been Gaulish. There +were more reasons than one for concealing that fact. The policy of Cæsar +was, to conceal it not less from Rome than from the army itself. But the +truth became known at last to all wary observers. Lord Brougham's +objection to the quality of Cæsar's enemies falls away at once when it +is collated with the deliberate composition of Cæsar's own army. Besides +that, Cæsar's enemies were _not_ in any exclusive sense Gauls. The +German tribes, the Spanish, the Helvetian, the Illyrian, Africans of +every race, and Moors; the islanders of the Mediterranean, and the mixed +populations of Asia, had all been faced by Cæsar. And if it is alleged +that the forces of Pompey, however superior in numbers, were at +Pharsalia largely composed of an Asiatic rabble, the answer is--that +precisely of such a rabble were the hostile armies composed from which +he had won his laurels. False and windy reputations are sown thickly in +history; but never was there a reputation more thoroughly histrionic +than that of Pompey. The late Dr. Arnold of Rugby, among a million of +other crotchets, did (it is true) make a pet of Pompey; and he was +encouraged in this caprice (which had for its origin the doctor's +_political_[E] animosity to Cæsar) by one military critic, viz., Sir +William Napier. This distinguished soldier conveyed messages to Dr. +Arnold, warning him against the popular notion, that Pompey was a poor +strategist. Now, had there been any Roman state-paper office, which Sir +William could be supposed to have searched and weighed against the +statements of surviving history, we might, in deference to Sir William's +great experience and talents, have consented to a rehearing of the case. +Unfortunately, no new materials have been discovered; nor is it alleged +that the old ones are capable of being thrown into new combinations, so +as to reverse or to suspend the old adjudications. The judgment of +history stands; and among the records which it involves, none is more +striking than this--that, while Cæsar and Pompey were equally assaulted +by sudden surprises, the first invariably met the sudden danger (sudden +but never unlooked-for) by counter resources of evasion. He showed a new +front, as often as his situation exposed a new peril. At Pharsalia, +where the cavalry of Pompey was far superior to his own, he anticipated +and was in full readiness for the particular manœuvre by which it was +attempted to make this superiority available against himself. By a new +formation of his troops he foiled the attack, and caused it to recoil +upon the enemy. Had Pompey then no rejoinder ready for meeting this +reply? No. His one arrow being shot, his quiver was exhausted. Without +an effort at parrying any longer, the mighty game was surrendered as +desperate. "Check to the king!" was heard in silent submission; and no +further stratagem was invoked even in silent prayer, but the stratagem +of flight. Yet Cæsar himself, objects a celebrated doctor (viz., Bishop +Warburton), was reduced by his own rashness at Alexandria to a condition +of peril and embarrassment not less alarming than the condition of +Pompey at Pharsalia. How far this surprise might be reconcilable with +Cæsar's military credit, is a question yet undecided; but this at least +is certain, that he was equal to the occasion; and, if the surprise was +all but fatal, the evasion was all but miraculous. Many were the sudden +surprises which Cæsar had to face before and after this--on the shores +of Britain, at Marseilles, at Munda, at Thapsus--from all of which he +issued triumphantly, failing only as to that final one from which he had +in pure nobility of heart announced his determination to shelter himself +under no precautions. + +Such eases of personal danger and escape are exciting to the +imagination, from the disproportion between the interests of an +individual and the interests of a whole nation which for the moment +happen to be concurrent. The death or the escape of Cæsar, at one +moment, rather than another, would make a difference in the destiny of +many nations. And in kind, though not in degree, the same interest has +frequently attached to the fortunes of a prince or military leader. +Effectually the same dramatic character belongs to any struggle with +sudden danger, though not (like Cæsar's) successful. That it was _not_ +successful becomes a new reason for pursuing it with interest; since +equally in that result, as in one more triumphant, we read the altered +course by which history is henceforward destined to flow. + +For instance, how much depended--what a weight of history hung in +suspense, upon the evasions, or attempts at evasion, of Charles I. He +was a prince of great ability; and yet it confounds us to observe, with +how little of foresight, or of circumstantial inquiry, either as +regarded things or persons, he entered upon these difficult enterprises +of escape from the vigilance of military guardians. His first escape, +viz., that into the Scottish camp before Newark, was not surrounded with +any circumstances of difficulty. His second escape from Hampton Court +had become a matter of more urgent policy, and was proportionally more +difficult of execution. He was attended on that occasion by two +gentlemen (Berkely and Ashburnham), upon whose qualities of courage and +readiness, and upon whose acquaintance with the accidents, local or +personal, that surrounded their path, all was staked. Yet one of these +gentlemen was always suspected of treachery, and both were imbecile as +regarded that sort of wisdom on which it was possible for a royal person +to rely. Had the questions likely to arise been such as belong to a +masquerading adventure, these gentlemen might have been qualified for +the situation. As it was, they sank in mere distraction under the +responsibilities of the occasion. The king was as yet in safety. At Lord +Southampton's country mansion, he enjoyed the protection of a loyal +family ready to face any risk in his behalf; and his retreat was +entirely concealed. Suddenly this scene changes. The military commander +in the Isle of Wight is acquainted with the king's situation, and +brought into his presence, together with a military guard, though no +effort had been made to exact securities from his honor in behalf of the +king. His single object was evidently to arrest the king. His military +honor, his duty to the parliament, his private interest, all pointed to +the same result, viz., the immediate apprehension of the fugitive +prince. What was there in the opposite scale to set against these +notorious motives? Simply the fact that he was nephew to the king's +favorite chaplain, Dr. Hammond. What rational man, in a case of that +nature, would have relied upon so poor a trifle? Yet even this +inconsiderable bias was much more than balanced by another of the same +kind but in the opposite direction. Colonel Hammond was nephew to the +king's chaplain, but in the meantime he was the husband of Cromwell's +niece; and upon Cromwell privately, and the whole faction of the +Independents politically, he relied for all his hopes of advancement. +The result was, that, from mere inertia of mind and criminal negligence +in his two attendants, the poor king had run right into the custody of +the very jailer whom his enemies would have selected by preference. + +Thus, then, from fear of being made a prisoner Charles had quietly +walked into the military prison of Carisbrook Castle. The very security +of this prison, however, might throw the governor off his guard. Another +escape might be possible; and again an escape was arranged. It reads +like some leaf torn from the records of a lunatic hospital, to hear its +circumstances and the particular point upon which it split. Charles was +to make his exit through a window. This window, however, was fenced by +iron bars; and these bars had been to a certain extent eaten through +with _aqua fortis_. The king had succeeded in pushing his head through, +and upon that result he relied for his escape; for he connected this +trial with the following strange maxim or postulate, viz., that +wheresoever the head could pass, there the whole person could pass. It +needs not to be said, that, in the final experiment, this absurd rule +was found not to hold good. The king stuck fast about the chest and +shoulders, and was extricated with some difficulty. Had it even been +otherwise, the attempt would have failed; for, on looking down from +amidst the iron bars, the king beheld, in the imperfect light, a number +of people who were not among his accomplices. + +Equal in fatuity, almost 150 years later, were the several attempts at +escape concerted on behalf of the French royal family. The abortive +escape to Varennes is now familiarly known to all the world, and +impeaches the good sense of the king himself not less than of his +friends. The arrangements for the falling in with the cavalry escort +could not have been worse managed had they been intrusted to children. +But even the general outline of the scheme, an escape in a collective +family party--father, mother, children, and servants--and the king +himself, whose features were known to millions, not even withdrawing +himself from the public gaze at the stations for changing horses--all +this is calculated to perplex and sadden the pitying reader with the +idea that some supernatural infatuation had bewildered the predestined +victims. Meantime an earlier escape than this to Varennes had been +planned, viz., to Brussels. The preparations for this, which have been +narrated by Madame de Campan, were conducted with a disregard of +concealment even more astounding to people of ordinary good sense. "Do +you really need to escape at all?" would have been the question of many +a lunatic; "if you do, surely you need also to disguise your +preparations for escape." + +But alike the madness, or the providential wisdom, of such attempts +commands our profoundest interest; alike--whether conducted by a Cæsar +or by the helpless members of families utterly unfitted to act +independently for themselves. These attempts belong to history, and it +is in that relation that they become philosophically so impressive. +Generations through an infinite series are contemplated by us as +silently awaiting the turning of a sentinel round a corner, or the +casual echo of a footstep. Dynasties have trepidated on the chances of a +sudden cry from an infant carried in a basket; and the safety of empires +has been suspended, like the descent of an avalanche, upon the moment +earlier or the moment later of a cough or a sneeze. And, high above all, +ascends solemnly the philosophic truth, that the least things and the +greatest are bound together as elements equally essential of the +mysterious universe. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[D] "Feels by a secret instinct;"--A sentiment of this nature is finely +expressed by Lucan in the passage beginning, "Advenisse diem," &c. The +circumstance by which Lucan chiefly defeats the grandeur and +simplicities of the truth, is, the monstrous numerical exaggeration of +the combatants and the killed at Pharsalia. + +[E] It is very evident that Dr. Arnold could not have understood the +position of politics in Rome, when he allowed himself to make a favorite +of Pompey. The doctor hated aristocrats as he hated the gates of Erebus. +Now Pompey was not only the leader of a most selfish aristocracy, but +also their tool. Secondly, as if this were not bad enough, that section +of the aristocracy to which he had dedicated his services was an odious +oligarchy; and to this oligarchy, again, though nominally its head, he +was in effect the most submissive of tools. Cæsar, on the other hand, if +a democrat in the sense of working by democratic agencies, was bending +all his efforts to the reconstruction of a new, purer, and enlarged +aristocracy, no longer reduced to the necessity of buying and selling +the people in mere self-defense. The everlasting war of bribery, +operating upon universal poverty, the internal disease of Roman society, +would have been redressed by Cæsar's measures, and _was_ redressed +according to the degree in which those measures were really brought into +action. New judicatures were wanted, new judicial laws, a new +aristocracy, by slow degrees a new people, and the right of suffrage +exercised within new restrictions--all these things were needed for the +cleansing of Rome; and that Cæsar would have accomplished this labor of +Hercules was the true cause of his death. The scoundrels of the +oligarchy felt their doom to be approaching. It was the just remark of +Napoleon, that Brutus (but still more, we may say, Cicero), though +falsely accredited as a patriot, was, in fact, the most exclusive and +the most selfish of aristocrats. + + + + +[From Cumming's Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +FEARFUL TRAGEDY--A MAN-EATING LION. + + +On the 29th we arrived at a small village of Bakalahari. These natives +told me that elephants were abundant on the opposite side of the river. +I accordingly resolved to halt here and hunt, and drew my wagons up on +the river's bank, within thirty yards of the water, and about one +hundred yards from the native village. Having outspanned, we at once set +about making for the cattle a kraal of the worst description of +thorn-trees. Of this I had now become very particular, since my severe +loss by lions on the first of this month; and my cattle were, at night, +secured by a strong kraal, which inclosed my two wagons, the horses +being made fast to a trek-tow stretched between the hind wheels of the +wagons. I had yet, however, a fearful lesson to learn as to the nature +and character of the lion, of which I had at one time entertained so +little fear; and on this night a horrible tragedy was to be acted in my +little lonely camp of so very awful and appalling a nature as to make +the blood curdle in our veins. I worked till near sundown at one side of +the kraal with Hendric, my first wagon-driver--I cutting down the trees +with my ax, and he dragging them to the kraal. When the kraal for the +cattle was finished, I turned my attention to making a pot of +barley-broth, and lighted a fire between the wagons and the water, close +on the river's bank, under a dense grove of shady trees, making no sort +of kraal around our sitting-place for the evening. + +The Hottentots, without any reason, made their fire about fifty yards +from mine; they, according to their usual custom, being satisfied with +the shelter of a large dense bush. The evening passed away cheerfully. +Soon after it was dark we heard elephants breaking the trees in the +forest across the river, and once or twice I strode away into the +darkness some distance from the fireside to stand and listen to them. I +little, at that moment, deemed of the imminent peril to which I was +exposing my life, nor thought that a bloodthirsty man-eater lion was +crouching near, and only watching his opportunity to spring into the +kraal, and consign one of us to a most horrible death. About three hours +after the sun went down I called to my men to come and take their coffee +and supper, which was ready for them at my fire; and after supper three +of them returned before their comrades to their own fireside, and lay +down; these were John Stofolus, Hendric, and Ruyter. In a few minutes an +ox came out by the gate of the kraal and walked round the back of it. +Hendric got up and drove him in again, and then went back to his +fireside and lay down. Hendric and Ruyter lay on one side of the fire +under one blanket, and John Stofolus lay on the other. At this moment I +was sitting taking some barley-broth; our fire was very small, and the +night was pitch-dark and windy. Owing to our proximity to the native +village the wood was very scarce, the Bakalahari having burned it all in +their fires. + +Suddenly the appalling and murderous voice of an angry, bloodthirsty +lion burst upon my ear within a few yards of us, followed by the +shrieking of the Hottentots. Again and again the murderous roar of +attack was repeated. We heard John and Ruyter shriek "The lion! the +lion!" still, for a few moments, we thought he was but chasing one of +the dogs round the kraal; but, next instant, John Stofolus rushed into +the midst of us almost speechless with fear and terror, his eyes +bursting from their sockets, and shrieked out, "The lion! the lion! He +has got Hendric; he dragged him away from the fire beside me. I struck +him with the burning brands upon his head, but he would not let go his +hold. Hendric is dead! Oh God! Hendric is dead! Let us take fire and +seek him." The rest of my people rushed about, shrieking and yelling as +if they were mad. I was at once angry with them for their folly, and +told them that if they did not stand still and keep quiet the lion would +have another of us; and that very likely there was a troop of them. I +ordered the dogs, which were nearly all fast, to be made loose, and the +fire to be increased as far as could be. I then shouted Hendric's name, +but all was still. I told my men that Hendric was dead, and that a +regiment of soldiers could not now help him, and, hunting my dogs +forward, I had every thing brought within the cattle-kraal, when we +lighted our fire and closed the entrance as well as we could. + +My terrified people sat round the fire with guns in their hands till the +day broke, still fancying that every moment the lion would return and +spring again into the midst of us. When the dogs were first let go, the +stupid brutes, as dogs often prove when most required, instead of going +at the lion, rushed fiercely on one another, and fought desperately for +some minutes. After this they got his wind, and, going at him, disclosed +to us his position: they kept up a continued barking until the day +dawned, the lion occasionally springing after them and driving them in +upon the kraal. The horrible monster lay all night within forty yards of +us, consuming the wretched man whom he had chosen for his prey. He had +dragged him into a little hollow at the back of the thick bush beside +which the fire was kindled, and there he remained till the day dawned, +careless of our proximity. + +It appeared that when the unfortunate Hendric rose to drive in the ox, +the lion had watched him to his fireside, and he had scarcely laid down +when the brute sprang upon him and Ruyter (for both lay under one +blanket), with his appalling, murderous roar, and, roaring as he lay, +grappled him with his fearful claws, and kept biting him on the breast +and shoulder, all the while feeling for his neck; having got hold of +which, he at once dragged him away backward round the bush into the +dense shade. + +As the lion lay upon the unfortunate man, he faintly cried, "Help me, +help me! Oh God! men, help me!" After which the fearful beast got a hold +of his neck, and then all was still, except that his comrades heard the +bones of his neck cracking between the teeth of the lion. John Stofolus +had lain with his back to the fire on the opposite side, and on hearing +the lion he sprang up, and, seizing a large flaming brand, had belabored +him on the head with the burning wood; but the brute did not take any +notice of him. The Bushman had a narrow escape; he was not altogether +scatheless, the lion having inflicted two gashes in his seat with his +claws. + +The next morning, just as the day began to dawn, we heard the lion +dragging something up the river side, under cover of the bank. We drove +the cattle out of the kraal, and then proceeded to inspect the scene of +the night's awful tragedy. In the hollow, where the lion had lain +consuming his prey, we found one leg of the unfortunate Hendric, bitten +off below the knee, the shoe still on his foot; the grass and bushes +were all stained with his blood, and fragments of his pea-coat lay +around. Poor Hendric! I knew the fragments of that old coat, and had +often marked them hanging in the dense covers where the elephant had +charged after my unfortunate after-rider. Hendric was by far the best +man I had about my wagons, of a most cheerful disposition, a first-rate +wagon-driver, fearless in the field, ever active, willing, and obliging: +his loss to us all was very serious. I felt confounded and utterly sick +in my heart; I could not remain at the wagons, so I resolved to go after +elephants to divert my mind. I had that morning heard them breaking the +trees on the opposite side of the river. I accordingly told the natives +of the village of my intentions, and having ordered my people to devote +the day to fortifying the kraal, started with Piet and Ruyter as my +after-riders. It was a very cool day. We crossed the river, and at once +took up the fresh spoor of a troop of bull elephants. These bulls +unfortunately joined a troop of cows, and when we came on them the dogs +attacked the cows, and the bulls were off in a moment, before we could +even see them. One remarkably fine old cow charged the dogs. I hunted +this cow, and finished her with two shots from the saddle. Being anxious +to return to my people before night, I did not attempt to follow the +troop. My followers were not a little gratified to see me returning, for +terror had taken hold of their minds, and they expected that the lion +would return, and, emboldened by the success of the preceding night, +would prove still more daring in his attack. The lion would most +certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. My health had +been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but I was, +of course, still very weak. It would still be two hours before the sun +would set, and, feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able for further +work, I ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in search of the +lion. + +I took John and Carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the natives +followed up the spoor and led the dogs. The lion had dragged the remains +of poor Hendric along a native foot-path that led up the river side. We +found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and at last the mangled +coat itself. About six hundred yards from our camp a dry river's course +joined the Limpopo. At this spot was much shade, cover, and heaps of dry +reeds and trees deposited by the Limpopo in some great flood. The lion +had left the foot-path and entered this secluded spot. I at once felt +convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the natives to make loose +the dogs. These walked suspiciously forward on the spoor, and next +minute began to spring about, barking angrily, with all their hair +bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry reeds immediately +followed--it was the lion bounding away. + +Several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing +continually backward and springing aloft to obtain a view. I now pressed +forward and urged them on; old Argyll and Bles took up his spoor in +gallant style, and led on the other dogs. Then commenced a short but +lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small +satisfaction that I could obtain to answer for the horrors of the +preceding evening. The lion held up the river's bank for a short +distance, and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best he +could find, but nevertheless open. Here, in two minutes, the dogs were +up with him, and he turned and stood at bay. As I approached, he stood, +his horrid head right to me, with open jaws, growling fiercely, his tail +waving from side to side. + +On beholding him my blood boiled with rage. I wished that I could take +him alive and torture him, and, setting my teeth, I dashed my steed +forward within thirty yards of him and shouted, "_Your_ time is up, old +fellow." I halted my horse, and, placing my rifle to my shoulder, waited +for a broadside. This the next moment he exposed, when I sent a bullet +through his shoulder and dropped him on the spot. He rose, however, +again, when I finished him with a second in the breast. The Bakalahari +now came up in wonder and delight. I ordered John to cut off his head +and forepaws and bring them to the wagons, and, mounting my horse, +galloped home, having been absent about fifteen minutes. When the +Bakalahari women heard that the man-eater was dead, they all commenced +dancing about with joy, calling me _their father_. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN CHARNWOOD FOREST. + + +One fine, blustering, autumn day, a quiet and venerable-looking old +gentleman might be seen, with stick in hand, taking his way through the +streets of Leicester. If any one had followed him, they would have +found him directing his steps toward that side of the town which leads +to Charnwood. The old gentleman, who was a Quaker, took his way +leisurely, but thoughtfully, stopping every now and then to see what the +farmers' men were about, who were plowing up the stubbles to prepare for +another year's crop. He paused, also, at this and that farm-house, +evidently having a pleasure in the sight of good fat cattle, and in the +flocks of poultry--fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys, busy about the +barn-door, where the sound of the flail, or the swipple, as they there +term it, was already heard busily knocking out the corn of the last +bountiful harvest. Our old friend--a Friend--for though you, dear +reader, do not know him, he was both at the time we speak of--our old +friend, again trudging on, would pause on the brow of a hill, at a +stile, or on some rustic bridge, casting its little obliging arch over a +brooklet, and inhale the fresh autumnal air; and after looking round +him, nod to himself, as if to say, "Ay, all good, all beautiful!" and so +he went on again. But it would not be long before he would be arrested +again by clusters of rich, jetty blackberries, hanging from some old +hawthorn hedge; or by clusters of nuts, hanging by the wayside, through +the copse. In all these natural beauties our old wayfarer seemed to have +the enjoyment of a child. Blackberries went into his mouth, and nuts +into his pockets; and so, with a quiet, inquiring, and thoughtful, yet +thoughtfully cheerful look, the good old man went on. + +He seemed bound for a long walk, and yet to be in no hurry. In one place +he stopped to talk to a very old laborer, who was clearing out a ditch; +and if you had been near, you would have heard that their discourse was +of the past days, and the changes in that part of the country, which the +old laborer thought were very much for the worse. And worse they were +for him: for formerly he was young and full of life; and now he was old +and nearly empty of life. Then he was buoyant, sang songs, made love, +went to wakes and merry-makings; now his wooing days, and his marrying +days, and his married days were over. His good old dame, who in those +young, buxom days was a round-faced, rosy, plump, and light-hearted +damsel, was dead, and his children were married, and had enough to do. +In those days, the poor fellow was strong and lusty, had no fear and no +care; in these, he was weak and tottering; had been pulled and harassed +a thousand ways; and was left, as he said, like an old dry kex--_i.e._ a +hemlock or cow-parsnip stalk, hollow and dry, to be knocked down and +trodden into the dust some day. + +Yes, sure enough, those past days _were_ much better days than these +days were to him. No comparison. But Mr. John Basford, our old wanderer, +was taking a more cheerful view of things, and telling the nearly +worn-out laborer, that when the night came there followed morning, and +that the next would be a heavenly morning, shining on hills of glory, +on waters of life, on cities of the blest, where no sun rose, and no sun +set; and where every joyful creature of joyful youth, who had been dear +to him, and true to him and God, would again meet him, and make times +such as should cause songs of praise to spring out of his heart, just as +flowers spring out of a vernal tree in the rekindled warmth of the sun. + +The old laborer leaned reverently on his spade as the worthy man talked +to him. His gray locks, uncovered at his labor by any hat, were tossed +in the autumn wind. His dim eye was fixed on the distant sky, that +rolled its dark masses of clouds on the gale, and the deep wrinkles of +his pale and feeble temples seemed to grow deeper at the thoughts +passing within him. He was listening as to a sermon, which brought +together his youth and his age; his past and his future; and there were +verified on that spot words which Jesus Christ spoke nearly two thousand +years ago--"Wherever two or three are met together in my name, there am +I in the midst of them." + +He was in the midst of the two only. There was a temple there in those +open fields, sanctified by two pious hearts, which no ringing of bells, +no sound of solemn organ, nor voice of congregated prayers, nor any +preacher but the ever-present and invisible One, who there and then +fulfilled His promise and was gracious, could have made more holy. + +Our old friend again turned to set forward; he shook the old laborer +kindly by the hand, and there was a gaze of astonishment in the old +man's face--the stranger had not only cheered him by his words, but left +something to cheer him when he was gone. + +The Friend now went on with a more determined step. He skirted the +memorable park of Bradgate, famous for the abode of Lady Jane Grey, and +the visit of her schoolmaster, Roger Ascham. He went on into a region of +woods and hills. At some seven or eight miles from Leicester, he drew +near a solitary farm-house, within the ancient limits of the forest of +Charnwood. It was certainly a lonely place amid the woodlands and the +wild autumn fields. Evening was fast dropping down; and as the shade of +night fell on the scene, the wind tossed more rushingly the boughs of +the thick trees, and roared down the rocky valley. John Basford went up +to the farm-house, however, as if that was the object of his journey, +and a woman opening it at his knock, he soon disappeared within. + +Now our old friend was a perfect stranger here; had never been here +before; had no acquaintance nor actual business with the inhabitants, +though any one watching his progress hither would have been quite +satisfied that he was not wandering without an object. But he merely +stated that he was somewhat fatigued with his walk from the town, and +requested leave to rest awhile. In such a place, such a request is +readily, and even gladly granted. + +There was a cheerful fire burning on a bright, clean hearth. The kettle +was singing on the hob for tea, and the contrast of the in-door comfort +was sensibly heightened by the wild gloom without. The farmer's wife, +who had admitted the stranger, soon went out, and called her husband +from the fold-yard. He was a plain, hearty sort of man; gave our friend +a hearty shake of the hand, sate down, and began to converse. A little +time seemed to establish a friendly interest between the stranger and +the farmer and his wife. John Basford asked whether they would allow him +to smoke a pipe, which was not only readily accorded, but the farmer +joined him. They smoked and talked alternately of the country and the +town, Leicester being the farmer's market, and as familiar to him as his +own neighborhood. He soon came to know, too, who his guest was, and +expressed much pleasure in the visit. Tea was carried into the parlor, +and thither they all adjourned, for now the farming men were coming into +the kitchen, where they sate for the evening. + +Tea over, the two gentlemen again had a pipe, and the conversation +wandered over a multitude of things and people known to both. + +But the night was come down pitch dark, wild, and windy, and old John +Basford had to return to Leicester. + +"To Leicester!" exclaimed at once man and wife; "to Leicester!" No such +thing. He must stay where he was--where could he be better? + +John Basford confessed that that was true; he had great pleasure in +conversing with them; but then, was it not an unwarrantable liberty to +come to a stranger's house, and make thus free? + +"Not in the least," the farmer replied; "the freer the better!" + +The matter thus was settled, and the evening wore on; but in the course +of the evening, the guest, whose simple manner, strong sense, and deeply +pious feeling, had made a most favorable impression on his entertainers, +hinted that he had heard some strange rumors regarding this house, and +that, in truth, had been the cause which had attracted him thither. He +had heard, in fact, that a particular chamber in this house was haunted; +and he had for a long time felt a growing desire to pass a night in it. +He now begged this favor might be granted him. + +As he had opened this subject, an evident cloud, and something of an +unpleasant surprise, had fallen on the countenances of both man and +wife. It deepened as he proceeded; the farmer had withdrawn his pipe +from his mouth, and laid it on the table; and the woman had risen, and +looked uneasily at their guest. The moment that he uttered the wish to +sleep in the haunted room, both exclaimed in the same instant against +it. + +"No, never!" they exclaimed; "never, on any consideration! They had made +a firm resolve on that point, which nothing would induce them to break +through." + +The guest expressed himself disappointed, but did not press the matter +further at the moment. He contented himself with turning the +conversation quietly upon this subject, and after a while found the +farmer and his wife confirm to him every thing that he had heard. Once +more then, and as incidentally, he expressed his regret that he could +not gratify the curiosity which had brought him so far; and, before the +time for retiring arrived, again ventured to express how much what he +had now heard had increased his previous desire to pass a night in that +room. He did not profess to believe himself invulnerable to fears of +such a kind, but was curious to convince himself of the actual existence +of spiritual agency of this character. + +The farmer and his wife steadily refused. They declared that others who +had come with the same wish, and had been allowed to gratify it, had +suffered such terrors as had made their after-lives miserable. The last +of these guests was a clergyman, who received such a fright that he +sprang from his bed at midnight, had descended, gone into the stable, +and saddling his horse, had ridden away at full speed. Those things had +caused them to refuse, and that firmly, any fresh experiment of the +kind. + +The spirit visitation was described to be generally this: At midnight, +the stranger sleeping in that room would hear the latch of the door +raised, and would in the dark perceive a light step enter, and, as with +a stealthy tread, cross the room, and approach the foot of the bed. The +curtains would be agitated, and something would be perceived mounted on +the bed, and proceeding up it, just upon the body of the person in it. +The supernatural visitant would then stretch itself full length on the +person of the agitated guest, and the next moment he would feel an +oppression at his chest, as of a nightmare, and something extremely cold +would touch his face. + +At this crisis, the terrified guest would usually utter a fearful +shriek, and often go into a swoon. The whole family would be roused from +their beds by the alarm; but on no occasion had any traces of the cause +of terror been found, though the house, on such occasions, had been +diligently and thoroughly searched. The annoying visit was described as +being by no means uniform. Sometimes it would not take place for a very +long time, so that they would begin to hope that there would be no more +of it; but it would, when least expected, occur again. Few people of +late years, however, had ventured to sleep in that room, and never since +the aforementioned clergyman was so terribly alarmed, about two years +ago, had it once been occupied. + +"Then," said John Basford, "it is probable that the annoyance is done +with forever. If the troublesome visitant was still occasionally present +it would, no doubt, take care to manifest itself in some mode or place. +It was necessary to test the matter to see whether this particular room +was still subject to so strange a phenomenon." + +This seemed to have an effect on the farmer and his wife. The old man +urged his suit all the more earnestly, and, after further show of +extreme reluctance on the part of his entertainers, finally prevailed. + +The consent once being given, the farmer's wife retired to make the +necessary arrangements. Our friend heard sundry goings to and fro; but +at length it was announced to him that all was ready; the farmer and his +wife both repeating that they would be much better pleased if Mr. +Basford would be pleased to sleep in some other room. The old man, +however, remained firm to his purpose; he was shown to his chamber, and +the maid who led the way stood at some distance from the denoted door, +and pointing to it, bade him good night, and hurried away. + +Mr. Basford found himself alone in the haunted room, he looked round and +discovered nothing that should make it differ from any other good and +comfortable chamber, or that should give to some invisible agent so +singular a propensity to disturb any innocent mortal that nocturnated in +it. Whether he felt any nervous terrors, we know not; but as he was come +to see all that would or could occur there, he kept himself most +vigilantly awake. He lay down in a very good feather bed, extinguished +his light, and waited in patience. Time and tide, as they will wait for +no man, went on. All sounds of life ceased in the house; nothing could +be heard but the rushing wind without, and the bark of the yard-dog +occasionally amid the laughing blast. Midnight came, and found John +Basford wide-awake and watchfully expectant. Nothing stirred, but he lay +still on the watch. At length--was it so? Did he hear a rustling +movement, as it were, near his door, or was it his excited fancy? He +raised his head from his pillow, and listened intensely. Hush! there is +something!--no!--it was his contagious mind ready to hear and see--what? +There was an actual sound of the latch! He could hear it raised! He +could not be mistaken. There was a sound as if his door was cautiously +opened. List! it was true. There were soft, stealthy footsteps on the +carpet; they came directly toward the bed; they paused at its foot; the +curtains were agitated; there were steps on the bed; something +crept--did not the heart and the very flesh of the rash old man now +creep too?--and upon him sank a palpable form, palpable from its +pressure, for the night was dark as an oven. There was a heavy weight on +his chest, and in the same instant something almost icy cold touched his +face. + +With a sudden, convulsive action, the old man suddenly flung up his +arms, clutched at the terrible object which thus oppressed him, and +shouted with a loud cry, + +"I have got him! I have got him!" + +There was a sound as of a deep growl, a vehement struggle, but John +Basford held fast his hold, and felt that he had something within it +huge, shaggy, and powerful. Once more he raised his voice loud enough to +have roused the whole house; but it seemed no voice of terror, but one +of triumph and satisfaction. In the next instant, the farmer rushed into +the room with a light in his hand, and revealed to John Basford that he +held in his arms the struggling form of a huge Newfoundland dog! + +"Let him go, sir, in God's name!" exclaimed the farmer, on whose brow +drops of real anguish stood, and glistened in the light of the candle. +"Down stairs, Cæsar!" and the dog, released from the hold of the Quaker, +departed as if much ashamed. + +In the same instant, the farmer and his wife, who now also came in +dressed, and evidently never having been to bed, were on their knees by +the bedside. + +"You know it all, sir," said the farmer; "you see through it. You were +too deep and strong-minded to be imposed on. We were, therefore, afraid +of this when you asked to sleep in this room. Promise us now, that while +we live you will never reveal what you know?" + +They then related to him, that this house and chamber had never been +haunted by any other than this dog, which had been trained to play the +part. That, for generations, their family had lived on this farm; but +some years ago, their landlord having suddenly raised their rent to an +amount that they felt they could not give, they were compelled to think +of quitting the farm. This was to them an insuperable source of grief. +It was the place that all their lives and memories were bound up with. +They were extremely cast down. Suddenly it occurred to them to give an +ill name to the house. They hit on this scheme, and, having practiced it +well, did not long want an opportunity of trying it. It had succeeded +beyond their expectations. The fears of their guests were found to be of +a force which completely blinded them to any discovery of the truth. +There had been occasions where they thought some clumsy accident must +have stripped away the delusion; but no! there seemed a thick vail of +blindness, a fascination of terror cast over the strongest minds, which +nothing could pierce through. Case after case occurred; and the house +and farm acquired such a character, that no money or consideration of +any kind would have induced a fresh tenant to live there. The old +tenants continued at their old rent; and the comfortable ghost stretched +himself every night in a capacious kennel, without any need of +disturbing his slumbers by calls to disturb those of the guests of the +haunted chamber. + +Having made this revelation, the farmer and his wife again implored +their guest to preserve their secret. + +He hesitated. + +"Nay," said he, "I think it would not be right to do that. That would be +to make myself a party to a public deception. It would be a kind of +fraud on the world and the landlord. It would serve to keep up those +superstitious terrors which should be as speedily as possible +dissipated." + +The farmer was in agony. He rose and strode to and fro in the room. His +countenance grew red and wrathful. He cast dark glances at his guest, +whom his wife continued to implore, and who sate silent, and, as it +were, lost in reflection. + +"And do you think it a right thing, sir," said the farmer, "thus to +force yourself into a stranger's house and family, and, in spite of the +strongest wishes expressed to the contrary, into his very chambers, and +that only to do him a mischief? Is that your religion, sir? I thought +you had something better in you than that. Am I now to think your +mildness and piety were only so much hypocrisy put on to ruin me?" + +"Nay, friend, I don't want to ruin thee," said the Quaker. + +"But ruin me you will, though, if you publish this discovery. Out I must +turn, and be the laughing-stock of the whole country to boot. Now, if +that is what you mean, say so, and I shall know what sort of a man you +are. Let me know at once whether you are an honest man or a cockatrice?" + +"My friend," said the Quaker, "canst thou call thyself an honest man, in +practicing this deception for all these years, and depriving thy +landlord of the rent he would otherwise have got from another? And dost +thou think it would be honest in me to assist in the continuance of this +fraud?" + +"I rob the landlord of nothing," replied the farmer. "I pay a good, fair +rent; but I don't want to quit the old spot. And if you had not thrust +yourself into this affair, you would have had nothing to lay on your +conscience concerning it. I must, let me tell you, look on it as a piece +of unwarrantable impertinence to come thus to my house and be kindly +treated only to turn Judas against me." + +The word Judas seemed to hit the Friend a great blow. + +"A Judas!" + +"Yes--a Judas! a real Judas!" exclaimed the wife. "Who could have +thought it!" + +"Nay, nay," said the old man. "I am no Judas. It is true, I forced +myself into it; and if you pay the landlord an honest rent, why, I don't +know that it is any business of mine--at least while you live." + +"That is all we want," replied the farmer, his countenance changing, and +again flinging himself by his wife on his knees by the bed. "Promise us +never to reveal it while we live, and we shall be quite satisfied. We +have no children, and when we go, those may come to th' old spot who +will." + +"Promise me never to practice this trick again," said John Basford. + +"We promise faithfully," rejoined both farmer and wife. + +"Then I promise too," said the Friend, "that not a whisper of what has +passed here shall pass my lips during your lifetime." + +With warmest expressions of thanks, the farmer and his wife withdrew; +and John Basford, having cleared the chamber of its mystery, lay down +and passed one of the sweetest nights he ever enjoyed. + +The farmer and his wife lived a good many years after this, but they +both died before Mr. Basford; and after their death, he related to his +friends the facts which are here detailed. He, too, has passed, years +ago, to his longer night in the grave, and to the clearing up of greater +mysteries than that of--the Haunted House of Charnwood Forest. + + + + +[From Fraser's Magazine.] + +LEDRU ROLLIN--BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. + + +Ledru Rollin is now in his forty-fourth or forty-fifth year, having been +born in 1806 or 1807. He is the grandson of the famous _Prestidigateur_, +or Conjurer Comus, who, about four or five-and-forty years ago, was in +the acme of his fame. During the Consulate, and a considerable portion +of the Empire, Comus traveled from one department of France to the +other, and is even known to have extended his journeys beyond the Rhine +and the Moselle on one side, and beyond the Rhône and Garonne on the +other. Of all the conjurors of his day he was the most famous and the +most successful, always, of course, excepting that Corsican conjuror who +ruled for so many years the destinies of France. From those who have +seen that famous trickster, we have learned that the Charleses, the +Alexandres, even the Robert-Houdins, were children compared with the +magical wonder-worker of the past generation. The fame of Comus was +enormous, and his gains proportionate; and when he had shuffled off this +mortal coil it was found he had left to his descendants a very +ample--indeed, for France a very large fortune. Of the descendants in a +right line, his grandson, Ledru Rollin, was his favorite, and to him the +old man left the bulk of his fortune, which, during the minority of +Ledru Rollin, grew to a sum amounting to nearly, if not fully, £4000 per +annum of our money. + +The scholastic education of the young man who was to inherit this +considerable fortune, was nearly completed during the reign of Louis +XVIII., and shortly after Charles X. ascended the throne _il commençait +à faire sur droit_, as they phrase it in the _pays Latin_. Neither +during the reign of Louis XVIII., nor indeed now, unless in the exact +and physical sciences, does Paris afford a very solid and substantial +education. Though the Roman poets and historians are tolerably well +studied and taught, yet little attention is paid to Greek literature. +The physical and exact sciences are unquestionably admirably taught at +the Polytechnique and other schools; but neither at the College of St. +Barbe, nor of Henry IV., can a pupil be so well grounded in the +rudiments and humanities as in our grammar and public schools. A +studious, painstaking, and docile youth, will, no doubt, learn a great +deal, no matter where he has been placed in pupilage; but we have heard +from a contemporary of M. Rollin, that he was not particularly +distinguished either for his industry or his docility in early life. The +earliest days of the reign of Charles X. saw M. Ledru Rollin an +_étudiant en droit_ in Paris. Though the schools of law had been +re-established during the Consulate pretty much after the fashion in +which they existed in the time of Louis XIV., yet the application of the +_alumni_ was fitful and desultory, and perhaps there were no two classes +in France, at the commencement of 1825, who were more imbued with the +Voltarian philosophy, and the doctrines and principles of Rosseau, than +the _élèves_ of the schools of law and medicine. + +Under a king so skeptical and voluptuous, so much of a _philosophe_ and +_pyrrhonéste_, as Louis XVIII., such tendencies were likely to spread +themselves through all ranks of society--to permeate from the very +highest to the very lowest classes; and not all the lately acquired +asceticism of the monarch, his successor, nor all the efforts of the +Jesuits, could restrain or control the tendencies of the _étudiants en +droit_. What the law students were antecedently and subsequent to 1825, +we know from the _Physiologic de l'Homme de Loi_; and it is not to be +supposed that M. Ledru Rollin, with more ample pecuniary means at +command, very much differed from his fellows. After undergoing a three +years' course of study, M. Rollin obtained a diploma as a _licencié en +droit_, and commenced his career as _stagiare_ somewhere about the end +of 1826, or the beginning of 1827. Toward the close of 1829, or in the +first months of 1830, he was, we believe, placed on the roll of +advocates: so that he was called to the bar, or, as they say in France, +received an advocate, in his twenty-second or twenty-third year. + +The first years of an advocate, even in France, are generally passed in +as enforced an idleness as in England. Clients come not to consult the +greenhorn of the last term; nor does any _avoué_ among our neighbors, +any more than any attorney among ourselves, fancy that an old head is to +be found on young shoulders. The years 1830 and 1831 were not marked by +any oratorical effort of the author of the _Decline of England_; nor was +it till 1832 that, being then one of the youngest of the bar of Paris, +he prepared and signed an opinion against the placing of Paris in a +state of siege consequent on the insurrections of June. Two years after +he prepared a memoir, or _factum_, on the affair of the Rue Transonian, +and defended Dupoty, accused of _complicité morale_, a monstrous +doctrine, invented by the Attorney-general Hebert. From 1834 to 1841 he +appeared as counsel in nearly all the cases of _émeute_ or conspiracy +where the individuals prosecuted were Republicans or +_quasi_-Republicans. Meanwhile, he had become the proprietor and +_rédacteur en chief_ of the _Réforme_ newspaper, a political journal of +an ultra-liberal--indeed, of a republican-complexion, which was then +called of extreme opinions, as he had previously been editor of a legal +newspaper called _Journal du Palais. La Réforme_ had been originally +conducted by Godefroy Cavaignac, the brother of the general, who +continued editor till the period of the fatal illness which preceded his +death. The defense of Dupoty, tried and sentenced under the ministry of +Thiers to five years' imprisonment, as a regicide, because a letter was +found open in the letter-box of the paper of which he was editor, +addressed to him by a man said to be implicated in the conspiracy of +Quenisset, naturally brought M. Rollin into contact with many of the +writers in _La Réforme_; and these persons, among others Guinard Arago, +Etienne Arago, and Flocon, induced him to embark some portion of his +fortune in the paper. From one step he was led on to another, and +ultimately became one of the chief, indeed, is not the chief proprietor. +The speculation was far from successful in a pecuniary sense; but M. +Rollin, in furtherance of his opinions, continued for some years to +disburse considerable sums in the support of the journal. By this he no +doubt increased his popularity and his credit with the republican party, +but it can not be denied that he very materially injured his private +fortune. In the earlier portion of his career M. Rollin was, it is +known, not indisposed to seek a seat in the chamber under the auspicies +of M. Barrot, but subsequently to his connection with the _Réforme_, he +had himself become thoroughly known to the extreme party in the +departments, and on the death of Garnier Pagès the elder, was elected in +1841 for Le Mans, in the department of La Sarthe. + +In addressing the electors after his return, M. Rollin delivered a +speech much more republican than monarchical. For this he was sentenced +to four months' imprisonment, but the sentence was appealed against and +annulled on a technical ground, and the honorable member was ultimately +acquitted by the Cour d'Assizes of Angers. + +The parliamentary _début_ of M. Rollin took place in 1842. His first +speech was delivered on the subject of the secret-service money. The +elocution was easy and flowing, the manner oratorical, the style +somewhat turgid and bombastic. But in the course of the session M. +Rollin improved, and his discourse on the modification of the criminal +law, on other legal subjects, and on railways, were more sober specimens +of style. In 1843 and 1844 M. Rollin frequently spoke; but though his +speeches were a good deal talked of outside the walls of the chamber, +they produced little effect within it. Nevertheless, it was plain to +every candid observer that he possessed many of the requisites of the +orator--a good voice, a copious flow of words, considerable energy and +enthusiasm, a sanguine temperament and jovial and generous disposition. +In the sessions of 1845-46, M. Rollin took a still more prominent part. +His purse, his house in the Rue Tournon, his counsels and advice, were +all placed at the service of the men of the movement, and by the +beginning of 1847 he seemed to be acknowledged by the extreme party as +its most conspicuous and popular member. Such, indeed, was his position +when the electoral reform banquets, on a large scale, began to take +place in the autumn of 1847. These banquets, promoted and forwarded by +the principal members of the opposition to serve the cause of electoral +reform, were looked on by M. Rollin and his friends in another light. +While Odillon Barrot, Duvergier d'Hauranne, and others, sought by means +of them to produce an enlarged constituency, the member for Sarthe +looked not merely to functional, but to organic reform--not merely to an +enlargement of the constituency, but to a change in the form of the +government. The desire of Barrot was _à la vérité, à la sincerité des +institutions conquises en Julliet 1830_; whereas the desire of Rollin +was, _à l'amélioration des classes laborieuses_: the one was willing to +go on with the dynasty of Louis Philippe and the Constitution of July +improved by diffusion and extension of the franchise, the other looked +to a democratic and social republic. The result is now known. It is not +here our purpose to go over the events of the Revolution of February, +1848, but we may be permitted to observe, that the combinations by which +that event was effected were ramified and extensive, and were long +silently and secretly in motion. + +The personal history of Ledru Rollin, since February, 1848, is well +known and patent to all the world. He was the _ame damnée_ of the +Provisional Government--the man whose extreme opinions, intemperate +circulars, and vehement patronage of persons professing the political +creed of Robespierre--indisposed all moderate men to rally around the +new system. It was in covering Ledru Rollin with the shield of his +popularity that Lamartine lost his own, and that he ceased to be the +political idol of a people of whom he must ever be regarded as one of +the literary glories and illustrations. On the dissolution of the +Provisional Government, Ledru Rollin constituted himself one of the +leaders of the movement party. In ready powers of speech and in +popularity no man stood higher; but he did not possess the power of +restraining his followers or of holding them in hand, and the result +was, that instead of being their leader he became their instrument. Fond +of applause, ambitious of distinction, timid by nature, destitute of +pluck, and of that rarer virtue moral courage, Ledru Rollin, to avoid +the imputation of faint-heartedness, put himself in the foreground, but +the measures of his followers being ill-taken, the plot in which he was +mixed up egregiously failed, and he is now in consequence an exile in +England. + + + + +[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] + +A CHIP FROM A SAILOR'S LOG. + + +It was a dead calm--not a breath of air--the sails flapped idly against +the masts; the helm had lost its power, and the ship turned her head how +and where she liked. The heat was intense, so much so, that the chief +mate had told the boatswain to keep the watch out of the sun; but the +watch below found it too warm to sleep, and were tormented with thirst, +which they could not gratify till the water was served out. They had +drunk all the previous day's allowance; and now that their scuttle but +was dry, there was nothing left for them but endurance. Some of the +seamen had congregated on the top-gallant forecastle, where they gazed +on the clear blue water with longing eyes. + +"How cool and clear it looks," said a tall, powerful young seaman; "I +don't think there are many sharks about: what do you say for a bath, +lads?" + +"That for the sharks!" burst almost simultaneously from the parched lips +of the group: "we'll have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in +to dinner." In about half an hour the dinner-bell rang. The boatswain +took charge of the deck; some twenty sailors were now stripped, except a +pair of light duck trowsers; among the rest was a tall, powerful, +coast-of-Africa nigger of the name of Leigh: they used to joke him, and +call him Sambo. + +"You no swim to-day, Ned?" said he, addressing me. "Feared of shark, +heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after +him--him run like debbel." I was tempted, and, like the rest, was soon +ready. In quick succession we jumped off the spritsail yard, the black +leading. We had scarcely been in the water five minutes, when some voice +in-board cried out, "A shark! a shark!" In an instant every one of the +swimmers came tumbling up the ship's sides, half mad with fright, the +gallant black among the rest. It was a false alarm. We felt angry with +ourselves for being frightened, angry with those who had frightened us, +and furious with those who had laughed at us. In another moment we were +all again in the water, the black and myself swimming some distance from +the ship. For two successive voyages there had been a sort of rivalry +between us: each fancied that he was the best swimmer, and we were now +testing our speed. + +"Well done, Ned!" cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. "Go it, +Sambo!" cried some others. We were both straining our utmost, excited by +the cheers of our respective partisans. Suddenly the voice of the +boatswain was heard shouting, "A shark! a shark! Come back for God's +sake!" + +"Lay aft, and lower the cutter down," then came faintly on our ear. The +race instantly ceased. As yet, we only half believed what we heard, our +recent fright being still fresh in our memories. + +"Swim, for God's sake!" cried the captain, who was now on deck; "he has +not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him. +Strike out, lads, for God's sake!" My heart stood still: I felt weaker +than a child as I gazed with horror at the dorsal fin of a large shark +on the starboard quarter. Though in the water, the perspiration dropped +from me like rain: the black was striking out like mad for the ship. + +"Swim, Ned--swim!" cried several voices; "they never take black when +they can get white." + +I did swim, and that desperately: the water foamed past me. I soon +breasted the black, but could not head him. We both strained every nerve +to be first, for we each fancied the last man would be taken. Yet we +scarcely seemed to move: the ship appeared as far as ever from us. We +were both powerful swimmers, and both of us swam in the French way +called _la brasse_, or hand over hand, in English. There was something +the matter with the boat's falls, and they could not lower her. + +"He sees you now!" was shouted; "he is after you!" Oh the agony of that +moment! I thought of every thing at the same instant, at least so it +seemed to me then. Scenes long forgotten rushed through my brain with +the rapidity of lightning, yet in the midst of this I was striking out +madly for the ship. Each moment I fancied I could feel the pilot-fish +touching me, and I almost screamed with agony. We were now not ten yards +from the ship: fifty ropes were thrown to us; but, as if by mutual +instinct, we swam for the same. + +"Hurra! they are saved!--they are alongside!" was shouted by the eager +crew. We both grasped the rope at the same time: a slight struggle +ensued: I had the highest hold. Regardless of every thing but my own +safety, I placed my feet on the black's shoulders, scrambled up the +side, and fell exhausted on the deck. The negro followed roaring with +pain, for the shark had taken away part of his heel. Since then, I have +never bathed at sea; nor, I believe, has Sambo been ever heard again to +assert that he would swim after a shark if he met one in the water. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE TWO THOMPSONS. + + +By the wayside, not far from the town of Mansfield--on a high and heathy +ground, which gives a far-off view of the minster of Lincoln--you may +behold a little clump of trees, encircled by a wall. That is called +THOMPSON'S GRAVE. But who is this Thompson; and why lies he so far from +his fellows? In ground unconsecrated; in the desert, or on the verge of +it--for cultivation now approaches it? The poor man and his wants spread +themselves, and corn and potatoes crowd upon Thompson's grave. But who +is this Thompson; and why lies he here? + +In the town of Mansfield there was a poor boy, and this poor boy became +employed in a hosier's warehouse. From the warehouse his assiduity and +probity sent him to the counting-house; from the counting-house, abroad. +He traveled to carry stockings to the Asiatic and the people of the +south. He sailed up the rivers of Persia, and saw the tulips growing +wild on their banks, with many a lily and flower of our proudest +gardens. He traveled in Spain and Portugal, and was in Lisbon when the +great earthquake shook his house over his head. He fled. The streets +reeled; the houses fell; church towers dashed down in thunder across his +path. There were flying crowds, shrieks, and dust, and darkness. But he +fled on. The farther, the more misery. Crowds filled the fields when he +reached them--naked, half-naked, terrified, starving, and looking in +vain for a refuge. He fled across the hills, and gazed. The whole huge +city rocked and staggered below. There were clouds of dust, columns of +flame, the thunder of down-crashing buildings, the wild cries of men. He +suffered amid ten thousand suffering outcasts. + +At length, the tumult ceased; the earth became stable. With other ruined +and curious men he climbed over the heaps of desolation in quest of what +once was his home, and the depository of his property. His servant was +nowhere to be seen: Thompson felt that he must certainly have been +killed. After many days' quest, and many uncertainties, he found the +spot where his house had stood; it was a heap of rubbish. His servant +and merchandise lay beneath it. He had money enough, or credit enough, +to set to work men to clear away some of the fallen materials, and to +explore whether any amount of property were recoverable. What's that +sound? A subterranean, or subruinan, voice? The workmen stop, and are +ready to fly with fear. Thompson exhorts them, and they work on. But +again that voice! No _human_ creature can be living there. The laborers +again turn to fly. They are a poor, ignorant, and superstitious crew; +but Thompson's commands, and Thompson's gold, arrest them. They work on, +and out walks Thompson's living servant, still in the body, though a +body not much more substantial than a ghost All cry, "How have you +managed to live?" + +"I fled to the cellar. I have sipped the wine; but now I want bread, +meat, every thing!" and the living skeleton walked staggeringly on, and +looked voraciously for shops and loaves, and saw only brickbats and +ruins. + +Thompson recovered his goods, and retreated as soon as possible to his +native land. Here, in his native town, the memory of the earthquake +still haunted him. He used almost daily to hasten out of the place, and +up the forest hill, where he imagined that he saw Lisbon reeling, +tottering, churches falling, and men flying. But he saw only the red +tiles of some thousand peaceful houses, and the twirling of a dozen +windmill sails. Here he chose his burial-ground; walled it, and planted +it, and left special directions for his burial. The grave should be +deep, and the spades of resurrection-men disappointed by repeated layers +of straw, not easy to dig through. In the church-yard of Mansfield, +meantime, he found the grave of his parents, and honored it with an +inclosure of iron palisades. + +He died. How? Not in travel; not in sailing over the ocean, nor up +tulip-margined rivers of Persia or Arabia Felix; nor yet in an +earthquake--but in the dream of one. One night he was heard crying in a +voice of horror, "There! there!--fly! fly!--the town shakes! the house +falls! Ha! the earth opens!--away!" Then the voice ceased; but in the +morning it was found that he had rolled out of bed, lodged between the +bedstead and the wall, and there, like a sandbag wedged in a windy +crevice, he was--dead! + +There is, therefore, a dead Thompson in Sherwood Forest, where no +clergyman laid him, and yet he sleeps; and there is also a living +Thompson. + +In the village of Edwinstowe, on the very verge of the beautiful old +Birkland, there stands a painter's house. In his little parlor you find +books, and water-color-paintings on the walls, which show that the +painter has read and looked about him in the world. And yet he is but a +house-painter, who owes his establishment here to his love of nature +rather than to his love of art. In the neighboring Dukery, some one of +the wealthy wanted a piece of oak-painting done; but he was dissatisfied +with the style in which painters now paint oak; a style very splendid, +but as much resembling genuine oak as a frying-pan resembles the moon. +Christopher Thompson determined to try _his_ hand; and for this purpose +he did not put himself to school to some great master of the art, who +had copied the copy of a hundred consecutive copies of a piece of oak, +till the thing produced was very fine, but like no wood that ever grew +or ever will grow. Christopher Thompson went to nature. He got a piece +of well-figured, real oak, well planed and polished, and copied it +precisely. When the different specimens of the different painters were +presented to the aforesaid party, he found only one specimen at all like +oak, and that was Thompson's. The whole crowd of master house-painters +were exasperated and amazed. Such a fellow preferred to them! No; they +were wrong; it was nature that was preferred. + +Christopher Thompson was a self-taught painter. He had been tossed about +the world in a variety of characters--errand-boy, brickmakers' boy, +potter, shipwright, sailor, sawyer, strolling player; and here he +finally settled down as painter, and, having achieved a trade, he turned +author, and wrote his life. That life--_The Autobiography of an +Artisan_--is one of the best written and most interesting books of its +class that we ever read. It is full of the difficulties of a poor man's +life, and of the resolute spirit that conquers them. It is, moreover, +full of a desire to enlighten, elevate, and in every way better the +condition of his fellow-men. Christopher Thompson is not satisfied to +have made his own way; he is anxious to pave the way for the whole +struggling population. He is a zealous politician, and advocate of the +Odd Fellow system, as calculated to link men together and give them +power, while it gives them a stimulus to social improvement. He has +labored to diffuse a love of reading, and to establish mechanics' +libraries in neglected and obscure places. + +Behold the Thompson of Edwinstowe. Time, in eight-and-forty years, has +whitened his hair, though it has left the color of health on his cheek, +and the fire of intelligence in his eye. With a well-built frame and +figure, and a comely countenance, there is a buoyancy of step, an energy +of manner about him, that agree with what he has written of his life and +aspirations. Such are the men that England is now, ever and anon, in +every nook and corner of the island, producing. She produces them +because they are needed. They are the awakeners who are to stir up the +sluggish to what the time demands of them. + +The two Thompsons of Sherwood are types of their ages. He of the +grave--lies solitary and apart from his race. He lived to earn +money--his thought was for himself--and there he sleeps, alone in his +glory--such as it is. He was no worse, nay, he was better than many of +his contemporaries. He had no lack of benevolence; but trade and the +spirit of his age, cold and unsympathetic, absorbed him. He was content +to lie alone in the desert, amid the heath "that knows not when good +cometh," and where the lonely raven perches on the blasted tree. + +The living Thompson is, too, the man of his age: for it is an age of +awakening enterprise, of wider views, of stronger sympathies. He lives +and works, not for himself alone. His motto is Progress; and while the +forest whispers to him of the past, books and his own heart commune with +him of the future. Such men belong to both. When the present becomes the +past, their work will survive them; and their tomb will not be a desert, +but the grateful memories of improved men. May they spring up in every +hamlet, and carry knowledge and refinement to every cottage fireside! + + + + +[From Five Years' Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +HABITS OF THE AFRICAN LION. + + +The night of the 19th was to me rather a memorable one, as being the +first on which I had the satisfaction of hearing the deep-toned thunder +of the lion's roar. Although there was no one near to inform me by what +beast the haughty and impressive sounds which echoed through the +wilderness were produced, I had little difficulty in divining. There was +no mistake about it; and on hearing it I at once knew, as well as if +accustomed to the sound from my infancy; that the appalling roar which +was uttered within half a mile of me was no other than that of the +mighty and terrible king of beasts. Although the dignified and truly +monarchical appearance of the lion has long rendered him famous among +his fellow quadrupeds, and his appearance and habits have oftener been +described by abler pens than mine, nevertheless I consider that a few +remarks, resulting from my own personal experience, formed by a +tolerable long acquaintance with him, both by day and by night, may not +prove uninteresting to the reader. There is something so noble and +imposing in the presence of the lion, when seen walking with dignified +self-possession, free and undaunted, on his native soil, that no +description can convey an adequate idea of his striking appearance. The +lion is exquisitely formed by nature for the predatory habits which he +is destined to pursue. Combining in comparatively small compass the +qualities of power and agility, he is enabled, by means of the +tremendous machinery with which nature has gifted him, easily to +overcome and destroy almost every beast of the forest, however superior +to him in weight and stature. + +Though considerably under four feet in height, he has little difficulty +in dashing to the ground and overcoming the lofty and apparently +powerful giraffe, whose head towers above the trees of the forest, and +whose skin is nearly an inch in thickness. The lion is the constant +attendant of the vast herds of buffaloes which frequent the interminable +forests of the interior; and a full-grown one, so long as his teeth are +unbroken, generally proves a match for an old bull buffalo, which in +size and strength greatly surpasses the most powerful breed of English +cattle: the lion also preys on all the larger varieties of the +antelopes, and on both varieties of the gnoo. The zebra, which is met +with in large herds throughout the interior, is also a favorite object +of his pursuit. + +Lions do not refuse, as has been asserted, to feast upon the venison +that they have not killed themselves. I have repeatedly discovered lions +of all ages which had taken possession of, and were feasting upon, the +carcasses of various game quadrupeds which had fallen before my rifle. +The lion is very generally diffused throughout the secluded parts of +Southern Africa. He is, however, nowhere met with in great abundance, it +being very rare to find more than three, or even two, families of lions +frequenting the same district and drinking at the same fountain. When a +greater number were met with, I remarked that it was owing to +long-protracted droughts, which, by drying nearly all the fountains, had +compelled the game of various districts to crowd the remaining springs, +and the lions, according to their custom, followed in the wake. It is a +common thing to come upon a full-grown lion and lioness associating with +three or four large young ones nearly full-grown; at other times, +full-grown males will be found associating and hunting together in a +happy state of friendship: two, three, and four full-grown male lions +may thus be discovered consorting together. + +The male lion is adorned with a long, rank, shaggy mane, which in some +instances, almost sweeps the ground. The color of these manes varies, +some being very dark, and others of a golden yellow. This appearance has +given rise to a prevailing opinion among the boers that there are two +distinct varieties of lions, which they distinguish by the respective +names of "Schwart fore life" and "Chiel fore life:" this idea, however, +is erroneous. The color of the lion's mane is generally influenced by +his age. He attains his mane in the third year of his existence. I have +remarked that at first it is of a yellowish color; in the prime of life +it is blackest, and when he has numbered many years, but still is in the +full enjoyment of his power, it assumes a yellowish-gray, +pepper-and-salt sort of color. These old fellows are cunning and +dangerous, and most to be dreaded. The females are utterly destitute of +a mane, being covered with a short, thick, glossy coat of tawny hair. +The manes and coats of lions frequenting open-lying districts utterly +destitute of trees, such as the borders of the great Kalahari desert, +are more rank and handsome than those inhabiting forest districts. + +One of the most striking things connected with the lion is his voice, +which is extremely grand and peculiarly striking. It consists at times +of a low, deep moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly +audible sighs; at other times he startles the forest with loud, +deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick +succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his +voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling +distant thunder. At times, and not unfrequently, a troop may be heard +roaring in concert, one assuming the lead, and two, three, or four more +regularly taking up their parts, like persons singing a catch. Like our +Scottish stags at the rutting season, they roar loudest in cold, frosty +nights; but on no occasions are their voices to be heard in such +perfection, or so intensely powerful, as when two or three strange +troops of lions approach a fountain to drink at the same time. When this +occurs, every member of each troop sounds a bold roar of defiance at the +opposite parties; and when one roars, all roar together, and each seems +to vie with his comrades in the intensity and power of his voice. + +The power and grandeur of these nocturnal forest concerts is +inconceivably striking and pleasing to the hunter's ear. The effect, I +may remark, is greatly enhanced when the hearer happens to be situated +in the depths of the forest, at the dead hour of midnight, unaccompanied +by any attendant, and ensconced within twenty yards of the fountain +which the surrounding troops of lions are approaching. Such has been my +situation many scores of times; and though I am allowed to have a +tolerable good taste for music, I consider the catches with which I was +then regaled as the sweetest and most natural I ever heard. + +As a general rule, lions roar during the night; their sighing moans +commencing as the shades of evening envelop the forest, and continuing +at intervals throughout the night. In distant and secluded regions, +however, I have constantly heard them roaring loudly as late as nine and +ten o'clock on a bright sunny morning. In hazy and rainy weather they +are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is subdued. It +often happens that when two strange male lions meet at a fountain, a +terrific combat ensues, which not unfrequently ends in the death of one +of them. The habits of the lion are strictly nocturnal; during the day +he lies concealed beneath the shade of some low, bushy tree or +wide-spreading bush, either in the level forest or on the mountain side. +He is also partial to lofty reeds, or fields of long, rank, yellow +grass, such as occur in low-lying vleys. From these haunts he sallies +forth when the sun goes down, and commences his nightly prowl. When he +is successful in his beat and has secured his prey, he does not roar +much that night, only uttering occasionally a few low moans; that is, +provided no intruders approach him, otherwise the case would be very +different. + +Lions are ever most active, daring, and presuming in dark and stormy +nights, and consequently, on such occasions, the traveler ought more +particularly to be on his guard. I remarked a fact connected with the +lions' hour of drinking peculiar to themselves: they seemed unwilling to +visit the fountains with good moonlight. Thus, when the moon rose early, +the lions deferred their hour of watering until late in the morning; and +when the moon rose late, they drank at a very early hour in the night. +By this acute system many a grisly lion saved his bacon, and is now +luxuriating in the forests of South Africa, which had otherwise fallen +by the barrels of my "Westley Richards." Owing to the tawny color of the +coat with which nature has robed him, he is perfectly invisible in the +dark; and although I have often heard them loudly lapping the water +under my very nose, not twenty yards from me. I could not possibly make +out so much as the outline of their forms. When a thirsty lion comes to +water, he stretches out his massive arms, lies down on his breast to +drink, and makes a loud lapping noise in drinking not to be mistaken. He +continues lapping up the water for a long while, and four or five times +during the proceeding he pauses for half a minute as if to take breath. +One thing conspicuous about them is their eyes, which, in a dark night, +glow like two balls of fire. The female is more fierce and active than +the male, as a general rule. Lionesses which have never had young are +much more dangerous than those which have. At no time is the lion so +much to be dreaded as when his partner has got small young ones. At that +season he knows no fear, and, in the coolest and most intrepid manner, +he will face a thousand men. A remarkable instance of this kind came +under my own observation, which confirmed the reports I had before heard +from the natives. One day, when out elephant-hunting in the territory of +the "Baseleka," accompanied by two hundred and fifty men, I was +astonished suddenly to behold a majestic lion slowly and steadily +advancing toward us with a dignified step and undaunted bearing, the +most noble and imposing that can be conceived. Lashing his tail from +side to side, and growling haughtily, his terribly expressive eye +resolutely fixed upon us, and displaying a show of ivory well calculated +to inspire terror among the timid "Bechuanas," he approached. A headlong +flight of the two hundred and fifty men was the immediate result; and, +in the confusion of the moment, four couples of my dogs, which they had +been leading, were allowed to escape in their couples. These instantly +faced the lion, who, finding that by his bold bearing he had succeeded +in putting his enemies to flight, now became solicitous for the safety +of his little family, with which the lioness was retreating in the +background. Facing about, he followed after them with a haughty and +independent step, growling fiercely at the dogs which trotted along on +either side of him. Three troops of elephants having been discovered a +few minutes previous to this, upon which I was marching for the attack, +I, with the most heartfelt reluctance, reserved my fire. On running down +the hill side to endeavor to recall my dogs, I observed, for the first +time, the retreating lioness with four cubs. About twenty minutes +afterward two noble elephants repaid my forbearance. + +Among Indian Nimrods, a certain class of royal tigers is dignified with +the appellation of "man-eaters." These are tigers which, having once +tasted human flesh, show a predilection for the same, and such +characters are very naturally famed and dreaded among the natives. +Elderly gentlemen of similar tastes and habits are occasionally met with +among the lions in the interior of South Africa, and the danger of such +neighbors may be easily imagined. I account for lions first acquiring +this taste in the following manner: the Bechuana tribes of the far +interior do not bury their dead, but unceremoniously carry them forth, +and leave them lying exposed in the forest or on the plain, a prey to +the lion and hyæna, or the jackal and vulture; and I can readily imagine +that a lion, having thus once tasted human flesh, would have little +hesitation, when opportunity presented itself, of springing upon and +carrying off the unwary traveler or "Bechuana" inhabiting his country. +Be this as it may, man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting +expedition, a horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little +lonely camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived me, in +the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In winding up these few +observations on the lion, which I trust will not have been tiresome to +the reader, I may remark that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is +decidedly a dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a +certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have naturally a +turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of death, perfect coolness +and self-possession, an acquaintance with the disposition and manners of +lions, and a tolerable knowledge of the use of the rifle, are +indispensable to him who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting +pastime of hunting this justly-celebrated king of beasts. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE OLD CHURCH-YARD TREE. + +A PROSE POEM. + + +There is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet corner +of the church-yard. + +And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine +day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the +fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to +himself as he wove them into garlands. + +And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen; but +the boy was so intent upon his garland, that he did not hear the gentle +footsteps as they trod softly over the fresh green grass. When his work +was finished, and all the flowers that were in his lap were woven +together in one long wreath, he started, up to measure its length upon +the ground, and then he saw the little girl, as she stood with her eyes +fixed upon him. He did not move or speak, but thought to himself that +she looked very beautiful as she stood there with her flaxen ringlets +hanging down upon her neck. The little girl was so startled by his +sudden movement, that she let fall all the flowers she had collected in +her apron, and ran away as fast as she could. But the boy was older and +taller than she, and soon caught her, and coaxed her to come back and +play with him, and help him to make more garlands; and from that time +they saw each other nearly every day, and became great friends. + +Twenty years passed away. Again, he was seated beneath the old yew tree +in the church-yard. + +It was summer now; bright, beautiful summer, with the birds singing, and +the flowers covering the ground, and scenting the air with their +perfume. + +But he was not alone now, nor did the little girl steal near on tiptoe, +fearful of being heard. She was seated by his side, and his arm was +round her, and she looked up into his face, and smiled as she whispered: +"The first evening of our lives we were ever together was passed here: +we will spend the first evening of our wedded life in the same quiet, +happy place." And he drew her closer to him as she spoke. + +The summer is gone; and the autumn; and twenty more summers and autumns +have passed away since that evening, in the old church-yard. + +A young man, on a bright moonlight night, comes reeling through the +little white gate, and stumbling over the graves. He shouts and he +sings, and is presently followed by others like unto himself, or worse. +So, they all laugh at the dark solemn head of the yew tree, and throw +stones up at the place where the moon has silvered the boughs. + +Those same boughs are again silvered by the moon, and they droop over +his mother's grave. There is a little stone which bears this +inscription: + + "HER HEART BRAKE IN SILENCE." + +But the silence of the church-yard is now broken by a voice--not of the +youth--nor a voice of laughter and ribaldry. + +"My son! dost thou see this grave? and dost thou read the record in +anguish, whereof may come repentance?" + +"Of what should I repent?" answers the son; "and why should my young +ambition for fame relax in its strength because my mother was old and +weak?" + +"Is this indeed our son?" says the father, bending in agony over the +grave of his beloved. + +"I can well believe I am not;" exclaimeth the youth. "It is well that +you have brought me here to say so. Our natures are unlike; our courses +must be opposite. Your way lieth here--mine yonder!" + +So the son left the father kneeling by the grave. + +Again a few years are passed. It is winter, with a roaring wind and a +thick gray fog. The graves in the church-yard are covered with snow, and +there are great icicles in the church-porch. The wind now carries a +swathe of snow along the tops of the graves, as though the "sheeted +dead" were at some melancholy play; and hark! the icicles fall with a +crash and jingle, like a solemn mockery of the echo of the unseemly +mirth of one who is now coming to his final rest. + +There are two graves near the old yew tree; and the grass has overgrown +them. A third is close by; and the dark earth at each side has just been +thrown up. The bearers come; with a heavy pace they move along; the +coffin heaveth up and down, as they step over the intervening graves. + +Grief and old age had seized upon the father, and worn out his life; and +premature decay soon seized upon the son, and gnawed away his vain +ambition, and his useless strength, till he prayed to be borne, not the +way yonder that was most opposite to his father and his mother, but even +the same way they had gone--the way which leads to the Old Church-yard +Tree. + + + + +THE ENGLISH PEASANT. + +BY HOWITT. + + +The English peasant is generally reckoned a very simple, monotonous +animal; and most people, when they have called him a clown, or a +country-hob, think they have described him. If you see a picture of him, +he is a long, silly-looking fellow, in a straw hat, a white slop, and a +pair of ankle-boots, with a bill in his hand--just as the London artist +sees him in the juxta-metropolitan districts; and that is the English +peasant. They who have gone farther into England, however, than Surrey, +Kent, or Middlesex, have seen the English peasant in some different +costume, under a good many different aspects; and they who will take the +trouble to recollect what they have heard of him, will find him a rather +multifarious creature. He is, in truth, a very Protean personage. What +is he, in fact? A day-laborer, a woodman, a plowman, a wagoner, a +collier, a worker in railroad and canal making, a gamekeeper, a poacher, +an incendiary, a charcoal-burner, a keeper of village ale-houses, and +Tom-and-Jerrys; a tramp, a pauper, pacing sullenly in the court-yard of +a parish-union, or working in his frieze jacket on some parish-farm; a +boatman, a road-side stone-breaker, a quarryman, a journeyman +bricklayer, or his clerk; a shepherd, a drover, a rat-catcher, a +mole-catcher, and a hundred other things; in any one of which, he is as +different from the sheepish, straw-hatted, and ankle-booted, +bill-holding fellow of the print-shop windows, as a cockney is from a +Newcastle keelman. + +In the matter of costume only, every different district presents him in +a different shape. In the counties round London, eastward and westward, +through Berkshire, Hampshire, Wiltshire, etc., he is the _white-slopped_ +man of the London prints, with a longish, rosy-cheeked face, and a +stupid, quiet manner. In Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, and in that +direction, he sports his _olive-green_ slop, and his wide-awake, larking +hat, bit-o'-blood, or whatever else the hatters call those +round-crowned, turned-up-brimmed felts of eighteen-pence or two +shillings cost, which have of late years so wonderfully taken the fancy +of the country-chaps. In the Midland counties, especially +Leicestershire, Derby, Nottingham, Warwick, and Staffordshire, he dons a +_blue-slop_, called the Newark frock, which is finely gathered in a +square piece of puckerment on the back and breast, on the shoulders and +at the wrists; is adorned also, in those parts, with flourishes of white +thread, and as invariably has a little white heart stitched in at the +bottom of the slit at the neck. A man would not think himself a man, if +he had not one of those slops, which are the first things that he sees +at a market or a fair, hung aloft at the end of the slop-vender's stall, +on a crossed pole, and waving about like a scarecrow in the wind. + +Under this he generally wears a coarse blue jacket, a red or yellow shag +waistcoat, stout blue worsted stockings, tall laced ankle-boots, and +corduroy breeches or trowsers. A red handkerchief round his neck is his +delight, with two good long ends dangling in front. In many other parts +of the country, he wears no slop at all, but a corduroy or fustian +jacket, with capacious pockets, and buttons of giant size. + +That is his every-day, work-a-day style; but see him on a Sunday, or a +holiday--see him turn out to church, wake, or fair--there's a _beau_ for +you! If he has not his best slop on, which has never yet been defiled by +touch of labor, he is conspicuous in his blue, brown, or olive-green +coat, and waistcoat of glaring color--scarlet, or blue, or green +striped--but it must be showy; and a pair of trowsers, generally blue, +with a width nearly as ample as a sailor's, and not only guiltless of +the foppery of being strapped down, but if he find the road rather +dirty, or the grass dewy, they are turned up three or four inches at the +bottom, so as to show the lining. On those days, he has a hat of modern +shape, that has very lately cost him four-and-sixpence; and if he fancy +himself rather handsome, or stands well with the women, he cocks it a +little on one side, and wears it with a knowing air. He wears the collar +of his coarse shirt up on a holiday, and his flaming handkerchief round +his neck puts forth dangling ends of an extra length, like streamers. +The most troublesome business of a full-dress day is to know what to do +with his hands. He is dreadfully at a loss where to put them. On other +days, they have plenty of occupation with their familiar implements, but +to-day they are miserably sensible of a vacuum; and, except he be very +old, he wears no gloves. They are sometimes diving into his +trowser-pockets, sometimes into his waistcoat-pocket, and at others into +his coat-pockets behind, turning his laps out like a couple of tails. + +The great remedy for this inconvenience is a stick, or a switch; and in +the corner of his cottage, between the clock-case and the wall, you +commonly see a stick of a description that indicates its owner. It is an +ash-plant, with a face cut on its knob; or a thick hazel, which a +woodbine has grown tightly round, and raised on it a spiral, serpentine +swelling; or it is a switch, that is famous for cutting off the heads of +thistles, docks, and nettles, as he goes along. + +The women, in their paraphernalia, generally bear a nearer resemblance +to their sisters of the town; the village dressmaker undertaking to put +them into the very newest fashion which has reached that part of the +country; and truly, were it not for the genuine country manner in which +their clothes are thrown on, they might pass very well, too, at the +market. + +But the old men and old women, they are of the ancient world, truly. +There they go, tottering and stooping along to church! It is now their +longest journey. The old man leans heavily on his stout stick. His thin +white hair covers his shoulders; his coat, with large steel buttons, and +square-cut collar, has an antique air; his breeches are of leather, and +worn bright with age, standing up at the knees, like the lids of +tankards; and his loose shoes have large steel buckles. By his side, +comes on his old dame, with her little, old-fashioned black bonnet; her +gown, of a large flowery pattern, pulled up through the pocket-hole, +showing a well-quilted petticoat, black stockings, high-heeled shoes, +and large buckles also. She has on a black mode cloak, edged with +old-fashioned lace, carefully darned; or if winter, her warm red cloak, +with a narrow edging of fur down the front. You see, in fancy, the oaken +chest in which that drapery has been kept for the last half century; and +you wonder who is to wear it next. Not their children--for the fashions +of this world are changed; they must be cut down into primitive raiment +for the grandchildren. + +But who says the English peasant is dull and unvaried in his character? +To be sure, he has not the wild wit, the voluble tongue, the reckless +fondness for laughing, dancing, carousing, and shillalying of the Irish +peasant; nor the grave, plodding habits and intelligence of the Scotch +one. He may be said, in his own phraseology, to be "betwixt and +between." He has wit enough when it is wanted; he can be merry enough +when there is occasion; he is ready for a row when his blood is well up; +and he will take to his book, if you will give him a schoolmaster. What +is he, indeed, but the rough block of English character? Hew him out of +the quarry of ignorance; dig him out of the slough of everlasting labor; +chisel him, and polish him; and he will come out whatever you please. +What is the stuff of which your armies have been chiefly made, but this +English peasant? Who won your Cressys, your Agincourts, your Quebecs, +your Indies, East and West, and your Waterloos, but the English peasant, +trimmed and trained into the game-cock of war? How many of them have +been carried off to man your fleets, to win your Camperdowns and +Trafalgars? and when they came ashore again, were no longer the simple, +slouching Simons of the village; but jolly tars, with rolling gait, quid +in mouth, glazed hats, with crowns of one inch high, and brims of five +wide, and with as much glib slang, and glib money to treat the girls +with, as any Jack of them all. + +Cowper has drawn a capital picture of the ease and perfection with which +the clownish chrysalis may be metamorphosed into the scarlet moth of +war. Catch the animal young, and you may turn him into any shape you +please. He will learn to wear silk stockings, scarlet plush breeches, +collarless coats, with silver buttons; and swing open a gate with a +grace, or stand behind my lady's carriage with his wand, as smoothly +impudent as any of the tribe. He will clerk it with a pen behind his +ear; or mount a pulpit, as Stephen Duck, the thresher, did, if you will +only give him the chance. The fault is not in him, it is in fortune. He +has rich fallows in his soul, if any body thought them worth turning. +But keep him down, and don't press him too hard; feed him pretty well, +and give him plenty of work; and, like one of his companions, the +cart-horse, he will drudge on till the day of his death. + +So in the north of England, where they give him a cottage and his food, +and keep no more of his species than will just do the work, letting all +the rest march off to the Tyne collieries; he is a very patient +creature; and if they did not show him books, would not wince at all. So +in the fens of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdon, and on many +a fat and clayey level of England, where there are no resident gentry, +and but here and there a farm-house, you may meet, the English peasant +in his most sluggish and benumbed condition. He is then a long-legged, +staring creature, considerably "lower than the angels," who, if you ask +him a question, gapes like an Indian frog, which, when its mouth is +open, has its head half off; and neither understands your language, nor, +if he did, could grasp your ideas. He is there a walking lump, a thing +with members, but very little membership with the intellectual world; +but with a soul as stagnant as one of his own dykes. All that has been +wanted in him has been cultivated, and is there--good sturdy limbs, to +plow and sow, reap and mow, and feed bullocks; and even in those +operations, his sinews have been half-superseded by machinery. There +never was any need of his mind; and, therefore, it never has been +minded. + +This is the English peasant, where there is nobody to breathe a soul +into the clod. But what is he where there are thousands of the wealthy +and the wise? What is he round London--the great, the noble, and the +enlightened? Pretty much the same, and from pretty much the same causes. +Few trouble themselves about him. He feels that he is a mere serf, among +the great and free; a mere machine in the hands of the mighty, who use +him as such. He sees the sunshine of grandeur, but he does not feel its +warmth. He hears that the great folks are wise; but all he knows is, +that their wisdom does not trouble itself about his ignorance. He asks, +with "The Farmer's Boy," + + Whence comes this change, ungracious, irksome, cold? + Whence this new grandeur that mine eyes behold?-- + The widening distance that I daily see? + Has wealth done this? Then wealth's a foe to me! + Foe to my rights, that leaves a powerful few + The paths of emulation to pursue. + +Beneath the overwhelming sense of his position, that he belongs to a +neglected, despised caste, he is, in the locality alluded to, truly a +dull fellow. That the peasant there is not an ass or a sheep, you only +know by his standing on end. You hear no strains of country drollery, +and no characters of curious or eccentric humor; all is dull, plodding, +and lumpish. + +But go forth, my masters, to a greater distance from the luminous +capital of England; get away into the Midland and more Northern +counties, where the pride of greatness is not so palpably before the +poor man's eyes--where the peasantry and villagers are numerous enough +to keep one another in countenance; and there you shall find the English +peasant a "happier and a wiser man." Sunday-schools, and village +day-schools, give him at least the ability to read the Bible. There, the +peasant feels that he is a man; he speaks in a broad dialect, indeed, +but he is "a fellow of infinite jest." Hear him in the hay-field, in the +corn-field, at the harvest-supper, or by the village ale-house fire, if +he be not very refined, he is, nevertheless, a very independent fellow. +Look at the man indeed! None of your long, lanky fellows, with a sleepy +visage; but a sturdy, square-built chap, propped on a pair of legs, that +have self-will, and the spirit of Hampden in them, as plain as the ribs +of the gray-worsted stockings that cover them. What thews, what sinews, +what a pair of _calves_! why, they more resemble a couple of full-grown +_bulls_! See to his salutation, as he passes any of his neighbors--hear +it. Does he touch his hat, and bow his head, and look down, as the great +man goes by in his carriage? No! he leaves that to the cowed bumpkin of +the south. He looks his rich-neighbor full in the face, with a fearless, +but respectful gaze, and bolts from his manly breast a hearty, "Good day +to ye, sir!" To his other neighbor, his equal in worldly matters, he +extends his broad hand, and gives him a shake that is felt to the bottom +of the heart. "Well, and how are you, John?--and how's Molly, and all +the little ankle-biters?--and how goes the pig on, and the garden--eh?" + +Let me hear the dialogue of those two brave fellows; there is the soul +of England's brightest days in it. I am sick of slavish poverty on the +one hand, and callous pride on the other. I yearn for the sound of +language breathed from the lungs of humble independence, and the +cordial, earnest greetings of poor, but warm-hearted men, as I long for +the breeze of the mountains and the sea. Oh! I doubt much if this + + Bold peasantry, a country's pride, + +is lowered in its tone, both of heart-wholeness, boldness, and +affection, by the harsh times and harsh measures that have passed over +every district, even the most favored; or why all these emigrations, and +why all these parish-unions? What, then, is not the English peasant what +he was? If I went among them where I used to go, should I not find the +same merry groups seated among the sheaves, or under the hedgerows, full +of laughter, and full of droll anecdotes of all the country round? +Should I not hear of the farmer who never wrote but one letter in his +life, and that was to a gentleman forty miles off; who, on opening it, +and not being able to puzzle out more than the name and address of his +correspondent, mounted his horse in his vexation, and rode all the way +to ask the farmer to read the letter himself; and he could not do +it--could not read his own writing? Should I not hear Jonathan Moore, +the stout old mower, rallied on his address to the bull, when it pursued +him till he escaped into a tree? How Jonathan, sitting across a branch, +looked down with the utmost contempt on the bull, and endeavored to +convince him that he was a bully and a coward? "My! what a vaporing +coward art thou! Where's the fairness, where's the equalness of the +match? I tell thee, my heart's good enough; but what's my strength to +thine?" + +Should I not once more hear the hundred-times-told story of Jockey +Dawes, and the man who sold him his horse? Should I not hear these, and +scores of such anecdotes, that show the simple life of the district, and +yet have more hearty merriment in them than much finer stories in much +finer places? Hard times and hard measures may have, quenched some of +the ancient hilarity of the English peasant, and struck a silence into +lungs that were wont to "crow like chanticleer;" yet I will not believe +but that, in many a sweet and picturesque district, on many a brown +moor-land, in many a far-off glen and dale of our wilder and more +primitive districts, where the peasantry are almost the sole +inhabitants--whether shepherds, laborers, hewers of wood, or drawers of +waters-- + + The ancient spirit is not dead, + +that homely and loving groups gather round evening fires, beneath low +and smoky rafters, and feel that they have labor and care enough, as +their fathers had, but that they have the pride of homes, hearts, and +sympathies still. + +Let England take care that these are the portion of the English peasant, +and he will never cease to show himself the noblest peasant on the face +of the earth. Is he not that, in his patience with penury with him, and +old age, and the union before him? Is he not that, when his landlord has +given him his sympathy? When he has given him an ALLOTMENT--who so +grateful, so industrious, so provident, so contented, and so +respectable? + +The English peasant has in his nature all the elements of the English +character. Give him ease, and who so readily pleased; wrong him, and who +so desperate in his rage? + +In his younger days, before the care of a family weighs on him, he is a +clumsy, but a very light-hearted creature. To see a number of young +country fellows get into play together, always reminds one of a quantity +of heavy cart-horses turned into a field on a Sunday. They gallop, and +kick, and scream. There is no malice, but a dreadful jeopardy of bruises +and broken ribs. Their play is truly called horse-play; it is all slaps +and bangs, tripping-up, tumbles, and laughter. But to see the young +peasant in his glory, you should see him hastening to the +Michaelmas-fair, statute, bull-roasting, or mop. He has served his year; +he has money in his pocket, his sweetheart on his arm, or he is sure to +meet her at the fair. Whether he goes again to his old place or a new +one, he will have a week's holiday. Thus, on old Michaelmas-day, he and +all his fellows, all the country over, are let loose, and are on the way +to the fair. The houses are empty of them--the highways are full of +them; there they go, lads and lasses, streaming along, all in their +finery, and with a world of laughter and loud talk. See, here they come, +flocking into the market-town! And there, what preparations for them! +shows, strolling theatres, stalls of all kinds--bearing clothes of all +kinds, knives, combs, queen-cakes, and gingerbread, and a hundred +inventions to lure those hard-earned wages out of his fob. And he does +not mean to be stingy to-day; he will treat his lass, and buy her a new +gown into the bargain. See, how they go rolling on together! He holds up +his elbow sharply by his side; she thrusts her arm through his, _up to +the elbow_, and away they go--a walking miracle that they can walk +together at all. As to keeping step, that is out of the question; but, +besides this, they wag and roll about in such a way, that, keeping their +arms tightly linked, it is amazing that they don't pull off one or the +other; but they don't. They shall see the shows, and stand all in a +crowd before them, with open eyes and open mouths, wondering at the +beauty of the dancing-women, and their gowns all over spangles, and at +all the wit and grimaces, and somersets of harlequin and clown. They +have had a merry dinner and a dance, like a dance of elephants and +hippopotami; and then-- + + To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new. + +And these are the men that become sullen and desperate--that become +poachers and incendiaries. How and why! It is not plenty and kind words +that make them so? What, then? What makes the wolves herd together, and +descend from the Alps and the Pyrenees? What makes them desperate and +voracious, blind with fury, and reveling with vengeance? Hunger and +hardship! + +When the English peasant is gay, at ease, well-fed and clothed, what +cares he how many pheasants are in a wood, or ricks in a farmer's yard? +When he has a dozen backs to clothe, and a dozen mouths to feed, and +nothing to put on the one, and little to put into the other--then that +which seemed a mere playful puppy, suddenly starts up a snarling, +red-eyed monster! How sullen he grows! With what equal indifference he +shoots down pheasants or game-keepers. How the man who so recently held +up his head and laughed aloud, now sneaks, a villainous fiend, with the +dark lantern and the match, to his neighbor's rick! Monster! Can this be +the English peasant? 'Tis the same!--'tis the very man! But what has +made him so? What has thus demonized, thus infuriated, thus converted +him into a walking pestilence? Villain as he is, is he alone to +blame?--or is there another? + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. + +[_Continued from Page_ 340.] + +CHAPTER IX. + +A SCRAPE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. + + +When I reached the quarters of the état major, I found the great +court-yard of the "hotel" crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of +the service. Some were newly-joined recruits waiting for the orders to +be forwarded to their respective regiments. Some were invalids just +issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way +homeward. There were sergeants with billet rolls, and returns, and +court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents, hastening +hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went; +all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms +called out the orders from the different windows, and dispatches were +sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient +palace of the dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble +in the centre of the "Cour," still showed the proud armorial bearings of +that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated +groups of soldiers; their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting +strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that +still decorated the rich "plateau." Chakos, helmets, and great coats +were hung upon the orange trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the +white leather apron of the "sapeur," were drying along the marble +benches of the terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, +which separated the court from the garden, was actually covered with +belts, swords, bayonets, and horse gear, in every stage and process of +cleaning. Within the garden itself, however, all was silent and still. +Two sentries, who paced backward and forward beneath the "grille," +showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose careless +gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the mere "genius +of the place" would exercise over them. + +To me, the interest of every thing was increasing; and whether I +lingered to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at +all he saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old +soldiers of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they +were going; perhaps to the north to join the army of Sambre; perhaps to +the east, to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they were +destined for Italy: none cared! Meanwhile, at every moment, detachments +moved off, and their places were filled by fresh arrivals--all dusty and +way-worn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel, +when they were called on to "fall in," and again the word "forward" was +given. Such of the infantry as appeared too weary for the march were +sent on in great charrettes drawn by six or eight horses, and capable of +carrying forty men in each; and of these, there seemed to be no end. No +sooner was one detachment away, than another succeeded. Whatever their +destination, one thing seemed evident, the urgency that called them was +beyond the common. For a while I forgot all about myself in the greater +interest of the scene; but then came the thought, that I, too, should +have my share in this onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my +young friend, the "Sous-Lieutenant." I had not asked his name, but his +regiment I knew to be the 22d Chasseurs à Cheval. The uniform was light +green, and easily enough to be recognized; yet nowhere was it to be +seen. There were cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and +carabiniers in abundance--every thing, in short, but what I sought. + +At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22d were quartered, +and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that morning at +eight o'clock. There were two more squadrons expected to arrive at noon, +but the orders were that they were to proceed without further halt. + +"And whither to?" asked I. + +"To Treves, on the Moselle," said he, and turned away as if he would not +be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not have +been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me. He was +to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have obtained +the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one even to +advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but could +resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now become a +reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles hastening +forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers just flushed +with recent victory; even the peasant boys were "eager for the fray;" +but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The enthusiasm of +all around only served to increase and deepen my depression. There was +not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran of the ranks to the +merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have exchanged fortunes. Some +hours passed over in these gloomy reveries, and when I looked up from +the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over me, "the Cour" was almost +empty. A few sick soldiers waiting for their billets of leave, a few +recruits not yet named to any corps, and a stray orderly or two standing +beside his horse, were all that remained. + +I arose to go away, but in my pre-occupation of mind, instead of turning +toward the street, I passed beneath a large arch-way into another court +of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in decoration and +ornament than the outer one. After spending some time admiring the +quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all the architraves +and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched door-way, in the middle +of which was a small railed window, like the grille of a convent. I +approached, and perceived that it led into a garden, by a long, narrow +walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a wall. The trimly-raked +gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge, showed the care bestowed on +the grounds to be a wide contrast to the neglect exhibited in the +mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths and carnations ran along +either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms appearing in strong +relief against the back-ground of dark foliage. + +The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of my +arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within the +precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire and +close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I could not +resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so tempting. There was +no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought it likely the garden +was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with cautious and uncertain +steps; at last, with more confidence, for as I issued from the +hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the solitude seemed +unbroken. Fruit trees, loaded with their produce, stood in a closely +shaven lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks planted +with daffodills and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about through the +grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn boldly came +over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not finding an old +friend, continued to walk beside me as I went. + +The grounds appeared of great extent; paths led off in every direction; +and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering roof and +sides of a conservatory, in others, the humble culture of a vegetable +garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in the calm and +tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so immediately after +the busy bustle of the "soldiering," I soon not only forgot that I was +an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander "fancy free," following +out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the +choice were given me, I would rather have been the "Adam of that Eden" +than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory! +Fortunately, or unfortunately--it would not be easy to decide which--the +alternative was not open to me. It was while I was still musing, I found +myself at the foot of a little eminence, on which stood a tower, whose +height and position showed it had been built for the view it afforded +over a vast tract of country. Even from where I stood, at its base, I +could see over miles and miles of a great plain, with the main roads +leading toward the north and eastward. This spot was also the boundary +of the grounds, and a portion of the old boulevard of the town formed +the defense against the open country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with +sides of sloping sward, cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order; but, +from its depth and width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was +peering cautiously down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to +my ear, that I started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the +speaker was directly above me; and leaning over the battlements at the +top of the tower. + +"You're quite right, cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his eye, +and directed his view toward the plain. He _has_ gone wrong! He has +taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one." + +An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the +telescope passed to another hand, and to my astonishment, that of a +lady. + +"Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and +yet--Parbleu! it's too bad!" + +I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but not +distinguish the words; when the man again spoke: + +"No, no; it's all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without an +orderly to send after him. Diable! it _is_ provoking." + +"Isn't that one of your people at the foot of the tower?" said the lady, +as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open, and +close over me; for as he moved his head to look down, I saw the epaulets +of a staff officer. + +"Halloa!" cried he, "are you on duty?" + +"No, sir; I was--" + +Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on, + +"Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road, and +tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned off +to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are +mounted, of course?" + +"No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can--" + +"No, no; it will be too late," he broke in again. "Take my troop horse, +and be off. You'll find him in the stable, to your left." + +Then turning to the lady I heard him say-- + +"It may save Roquelard from an arrest." + +I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had +pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in +the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I +guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door being +unlatched, I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were feeding +at the racks, their glossy coats and long silky manes showing the care +bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I surveyed them +all with keen and scrutinizing eye. All my skill in such matters was +unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable and +handsome--in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of +careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters +"R.F.;" and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful +black horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action, +while the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a +"tartar." Making choice of him without an instant's hesitation, I threw +on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the +bridle, and led him forth. In all my "school experience" I had never +seen an animal that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and +slightly-dipped back showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the +stronger qualities of the Norman horse. I sprung to my saddle with +delight; to be astride such a beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm +of my nature, and as I grasped the reins, and urged him forward, I was +half wild with excitement. + +Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for he +gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will give, +and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me. This +failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and threatening +even to fall backward. I saw that I had, indeed, selected a wicked one; +for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap, the object was +clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would crouch, as if to +lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air, with a toss up of +his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At another he would +spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a fish, till the +saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe body. Not only did I +resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued to punish with whip +and spur the entire time--a proceeding, I could easily see, he was not +prepared for. At last, actually maddened with his inability to throw me, +and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he broke away, and dashing +headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest of the grove. +Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of stunted growth, +so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger; but suddenly +emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if his passion +became more furious as he indulged it, he threw up his head, and struck +out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was heading for the +great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on its brink. A +shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower; but I heard +nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps at that moment +just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his flanks, and +over we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a seagull on a +wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat sobered _him_; but +on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt that I had gained +the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting punishment, then, +I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay straight before me. The +few fences which divided the great fields were too insignificant to be +called leaps, and he took them in the "sling" of his stretching gallop. +He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of my wrist, and obeying +every motive of my will like an instinct. It may read like a petty +victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph over an enraged and +powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are more pleasurably +exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne along in full speed, +leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge and mill behind +you--now careering up the mountain side, with the fresh breeze upon your +brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the hare from her +cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before you--it is still +increased by the sense of a victory, by feeling that the mastery is with +you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath you has its impulse +in your own heart. + +Although the cavalry squadrons I was dispatched to overtake had quitted +Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an hour, and +inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of the +division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man who listened +to my message without changing a muscle. + +"Who sent you with this order?" said he. + +"A general officer, sir, whose name I don't know; but who told me to +take his own horse and follow you." + +"Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir," said he, pointing to the +heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast. + +"He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the +Boulevard, rode away with me." + +"Why it's Colonel Mahon's Arab, 'Aleppo,'" said another officer; "what +could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a best worth ten +thousand francs?" + +I thought I'd have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole +consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest, +trial, sentence, imprisonment, and heaven knew what afterward, like a +panorama rolling out to my view. + +"Tell the colonel, sir," said the major, "that I have taken the north +road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery trains +have cut up the Metz road so deeply that cavalry can not travel; tell +him that I thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this dispatch +to me; and tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should +prevent my sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest, for +the manner in which you have ridden--you hear, sir?" + +I touched my cap in salute. + +"Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?" + +"I am, sir." + +"Repeat it, then." + +I mentioned the reply, word for word, as he spoke it. + +"No, sir," said he, as I concluded; "I said for unsoldierlike and cruel +treatment to your horse." + +One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly +added-- + +"I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done so; +give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first." + +"Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty," muttered one of the captains. + +"I'd not blame him," joined another; "that horse saved his life at +Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!" + +The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set out toward +Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate. + +If I did not feel that these brief records of an humble career were +"upon honor," and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant can +teach is, the conflict between opposing influences, I might possibly be +disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along toward Nancy, a very +great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to desert! It is a +very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were not in the French +service any of those ignominious punishments which, once undergone, a +man is dishonored forever, and no more admissible to rank with men of +character than if convicted of actual crime; but there were marks of +degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and which men dreaded with +a fear nearly as acute--such, for instance, as being ordered for service +at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon--the arduous duty of guarding the +galley slaves, and which was scarcely a degree above the condition of +the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as this, I would willingly +have preferred death. It was, then, this thought that suggested +desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy temptation, and held on my +way toward Nancy. + +Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while he +showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue; and +as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at each +fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths, to give him +freedom, long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his +looks, and much of his spirit. + +At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart, I +found myself at the gate of the Ducal palace. The sentries suffered me +to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the court-yard, +toward the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left it, was +unlatched. + +It was strange enough, the nearer I drew toward the eventful moment of +my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is possible, +thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball through me, as +the officer said. Be it so--the matter is the sooner ended. If, however, +he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I may be able to assert +my innocence, at least so far as intention went. With this comforting +conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two dragoons in undress were +smoking, as they lay at full length upon a bench, and speedily arose as +I came up. + +"Tell the colonel he's come, Jacques," said one, in a loud voice, and +the other retired; while the speaker, turning toward me, took the bridle +from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word to me. + +"An active beast that," said I, affecting the easiest and coolest +indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I +continued, + +"He has had a bad hand on him, I should say--some one too flurried and +too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse." + +Another stare was all the reply. + +"In a little time, and with a little patience, I'd make him as gentle as +a lamb." + +"I am afraid you'll not have the opportunity," replied he, +significantly; "but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can +discuss the matter together." + +The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to follow +him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion, at which a +sentry stood, and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide left me. An +orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and beckoning to me to +advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me forward, let the heavy +folds close behind me; and now I found myself in a richly-furnished +chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was at supper with a +young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax lights on the table--the +glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain--the richness of the lady's +dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball--were all objects +distracting enough, but they could not turn me from the thought of my +own condition; and I stood still and motionless, while the officer, a +man of about fifty, with dark and stern features, deliberately scanned +me from head to foot. Not a word did he speak, not a gesture did he +make, but sat, with his black eyes actually piercing me. I would have +given any thing for some outbreak of anger, some burst of passion, that +would have put an end to this horrible suspense, but none came; and +there he remained several minutes, as if contemplating something too new +and strange for utterance. "This must have an end," thought I--"here +goes;" and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said, + +"I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major +Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was +cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz +Chaussée as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of +your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded +his dispatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in +which I had ridden with the order." + +"Any thing more?" asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and +guttural with passion. + +"Nothing more, sir." + +"No further remark or observation?" + +"None, sir--at least from the major." + +"What then--from any other?" + +"A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something." + +"What was it?" + +"I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel +Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back." + +"And you replied?" + +"I don't believe I made any reply at the time, sir." + +"But you thought, sir--what were your thoughts?" + +"I thought it very like what I'd have done myself in a like case, +although certain to be sorry for it afterward." + +Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained, or +that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I can not tell, but the +lady here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly +checked by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features +grew sterner and darker every moment. + +"There we differ, sir," said he, "for _I_ should not." At the same +instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small +portfolio, opening which he prepared to write. + +"You will bring this paper," continued he, "to the 'Prevot Marshal.' +To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and +as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labor--" + +"I'll save them the trouble," said I, quietly drawing my sword; but +scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the lady, +who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant the +colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow upon +the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground. + +"You want the 'fusillade'--is that what you want?" cried he, as, in a +towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now +standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes toward me, and at +once broke out into a burst of laughter; such hearty, merry laughter, +that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined +in it. + +"What is it--what do you mean, Laure?" cried the colonel angrily. + +"Don't you see it?" said she, still holding her kerchief to her +face--"can't you perceive it yourself? He has only one mustache!" + +I turned hastily toward the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal +fact revealed--one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek, +while the other was left bare. + +"Is the fellow mad--a mountebank?" said the colonel, whose anger was now +at its white heat. + +"Neither, sir," said I, tearing off my remaining mustache, in shame and +passion together. "Among my other misfortunes I have that of being +young; and what's worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my +error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity +or temper." + +With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every +glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath +that was only current in the days of that army. "This is beyond belief," +cried he. "Come, gredin, you have at least had one piece of good +fortune: you've fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with +you. Your regiment?" + +"The Ninth Hussars." + +"Your name." + +"Tiernay." + +"Tiernay; that's not a French name?" + +"Not originally; we were Irish once." + +"Irish!" said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used. +"Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in +the Royal Guard?" + +"His son, sir." + +"What--his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother's +name, then; what was it?" + +"I never knew which was my mother," said I. "Mademoiselle de la +Lasterie, or--" + +He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck, +pressed me to his bosom. + +"You are little Maurice, then," said he, "the son of my old and valued +comrade! Only think of it, Laure--I was that boy's godfather." + +Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great +effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated +between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me +with attention. It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a +fellow-guardsman with my father, for whom he had ever preserved the +warmest attachment. One of the few survivors of the "Garde du Corps," he +had taken service with the republic, and was already reputed as one of +the most distinguished cavalry officers. + +"Strange enough, Maurice," said he to me, "there was something in your +look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor +father to my memory; and, without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered +you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have ordered +you to be ironed and sent to prison." + +Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not +speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own +adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the lady +enjoyed all the absurdities of my checkered fortune with a keen sense of +the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but so many +resemblances to my father's character, and constantly broke out into +exclamations of "How like him!" "Just what he would have done himself!" +"His own very words!" and so on. + +It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the +mantle-piece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the +hour, and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next +morning, for absence from quarters. + +"Never fret about that, Maurice, I'll return your name as on a special +service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you shall be +named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal." + +"Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?" said the lady, in a half whisper. +"I'm sure he is better worth his epaulets than any I have seen on your +staff." + +"Nay, nay," muttered the colonel, "the rules of the service forbid it. +He'll win his spurs time enough, or I'm much mistaken." + +While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not +help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual +service; and that, proud as I should be of his protection, I would +rather merit it by my conduct, than owe my advancement to favor. + +"Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and +want to see how men comport themselves where the manœuvres are not +arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all +likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which you +may have advanced a stage or so toward those epaulets my fair friend +desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be sent +forward to your own corps. I'll write to the colonel to confirm the rank +of corporal: the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and, if I +mistake not, will soon be actively employed. Come to me to-morrow, +before noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that +are sent forward." + +A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady having +also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my leave, the +happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after hours, and as +indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of discipline as if +the whole code of martial law were a mere fable. + + +CHAPTER X. + +AN ARISTOCRATIC REPUBLICAN + + +If the worthy reader would wish to fancy the happiest of all youthful +beings, let him imagine what I must have been, as, mounted upon Aleppo, +a present from my godfather, with a purse of six shining Louis in my +pocket, and a letter to my colonel, I set forth for Metz. I had +breakfasted with Colonel Mahon, who, amid much good advice for my future +guidance, gave me, half slyly, to understand that the days of Jacobinism +had almost run their course, and that a reactionary movement had already +set in. The republic, he added, was as strong, perhaps stronger than +ever, but that men had grown weary of mob tyranny, and were, day by day, +reverting to the old loyalty, in respect for whatever pretended to +culture, good breeding, and superior intelligence. "As in a shipwreck, +the crew instinctively turn for counsel and direction to the officers, +you will see that France will, notwithstanding all the libertinism of +our age, place her confidence in the men who have been the tried and +worthy servants of former governments. So far, then, from suffering on +account of your gentle blood, Maurice, the time is not distant when it +will do you good service, and when every association that links you with +family and fortune will be deemed an additional guarantee of your good +conduct. I mention these things," continued he, "because your colonel is +what they call a 'Grosbleu,' that is, a coarse-minded, inveterate +republican, detesting aristocracy and all that belongs to it. Take care, +therefore, to give him no just cause for discontent, but be just as +steady in maintaining your position as the descendant of a noble house, +who has not forgotten what were once the privileges of his rank. Write +to me frequently and freely, and I'll take care that you want for +nothing, so far as my small means go, to sustain whatever grade you +occupy. Your own conduct shall decide whether I ever desire to have any +other inheritor than the son of my oldest friend in the world." + +Such were his last words to me, as I set forth, in company with a large +party, consisting, for the most part, of under officers and employées +attached to the medical staff of the army. It was a very joyous and +merry fraternity, and, consisting of ingredients drawn from different +pursuits and arms of the service, infinitely amusing from contrast of +character and habits. My chief associate among them was a young +sous-lieutenant of dragoons, whose age, scarcely much above my own, +joined to a joyous, reckless temperament, soon pointed him out as the +character to suit me: his name was Eugene Santron. In appearance he was +slightly formed, and somewhat under-sized, but with handsome features, +their animation rendered sparkling by two of the wickedest black eyes +that ever glistened and glittered in a human head. I soon saw that, +under the mask of affected fraternity and equality, he nourished the +most profound contempt for the greater number of associates, who, in +truth, were, however "braves gens," the very roughest and least-polished +specimens of the polite nation. In all his intercourse with them, Eugene +affected the easiest tone of camaraderé and equality, never assuming in +the slightest, nor making any pretensions to the least superiority on +the score of position or acquirements, but on the whole consoling +himself, as it were, by "playing them off," in their several +eccentricities, and rendering every trait of their vulgarity and +ignorance tributary to his own amusement. Partly from seeing that he +made me an exception to this practice, and partly from his perceiving +the amusement it afforded me, we drew closer toward each other, and +before many days elapsed, had become sworn friends. + +There is probably no feature of character so very attractive to a young +man as frankness. The most artful of all flatteries is that which +addresses itself by candor, and seems at once to select, as it were, by +intuition, the object most suited fur a confidence. Santron carried me +by a _coup de main_ of this kind, as taking my arm one evening, as I was +strolling along the banks of the Moselle, he said, + +"My dear Maurice, it's very easy to see that the society of our +excellent friends yonder is just as distasteful to you as to me. One can +not always be satisfied laughing at their solecisms in breeding and +propriety. One grows weary at last of ridiculing their thousand +absurdities; and then there comes the terrible retribution in the +reflection of what the devil brought me into such company? a question +that, however easily answered, grows more and more intolerable the +oftener it is asked. To be sure, in my case there was little choice in +the matter, for I was not in any way the arbiter of my own fortune. I +saw myself converted from a royal page to a printer's devil by a kind +old fellow, who saved my life by smearing my face with ink, and covering +my scarlet uniform with a filthy blouse; and since that day I have +taken the hint, and often found the lesson a good one--the dirtier the +safer! + +"We were of the old nobility of France, but as the name of our family +was the cause of its extinction, I took care to change it. I see you +don't clearly comprehend me, and so I'll explain myself better. My +father lived unmolested during the earlier days of the revolution, and +might so have continued to the end, if a detachment of the Garde +Republicaine had not been dispatched to our neighborhood of Sarre Louis, +where it was supposed some lurking regard for royalty yet lingered. +These fellows neither knew nor cared for the ancient noblesse of the +country, and one evening a patrol of them stopped my father as he was +taking his evening walk along the ramparts. He would scarcely deign to +notice the insolent 'Qui va la!' of the sentry, a summons _he_ at least +thought superfluous in a town which had known his ancestry for eight or +nine generations. At the repetition of the cry, accompanied by something +that sounded ominous, in the sharp click of a gun-lock, he replied, +haughtily, 'Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trone.' + +"'There are no more marquises in France!' was the savage answer. + +"My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said, 'Saint-Trone.' + +"'We have no saints either,' cried another. + +"'Be it so, my friend,' said he, with mingled pity and disgust. 'I +suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may call +myself Trone.' + +"'We are done with thrones long ago,' shouted they in chorus, 'and we'll +finish you also.' + +"Ay, and they kept their word, too. They shot him that same evening, on +very little other charge than his own name! If I have retained the old +sound of my name, I have given it a more plebeian spelling, which is, +perhaps, just as much of an alteration as any man need submit to for a +period that will pass away so soon." + +"How so, Eugene? you fancy the republic will not endure in France. What, +then, can replace it?" + +"Any thing, every thing; for the future all is possible. We have +annihilated legitimacy, it is true, just as the Indians destroy a +forest, by burning the trees, but the roots remain, and if the soil is +incapable of sending up the giant stems as before, it is equally unable +to furnish a new and different culture. Monarchy is just as firmly +rooted in a Frenchman's heart, but he will have neither patience for its +tedious growth, nor can he submit to restore what has cost him so dearly +to destroy. The consequences will, therefore, be a long and continued +struggle between parties, each imposing upon the nation the form of +government that pleases it in turn. Meanwhile, you and I, and others +like us, must serve whatever is uppermost--the cleverest fellow he who +sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it." + +"Then are you a royalist?" asked I. + +"A royalist! what! stand by a monarch who deserted his aristocracy, and +forgot his own order; defend a throne that he had reduced to the +condition of a fauteuil de Bourgeois?" + +"You are then for the republic?" + +"For what robbed me of my inheritance--what degraded me from my rank, +and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a cause +to uphold?" + +"You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps," said I, scarcely +knowing what form of faith to attribute to him. + +"In an army where my superiors are the very dregs of the people; where +the canaille have the command, and the chivalry of France is represented +by a sans-culotte!" + +"The cause of the Church--" + +A burst of ribald laughter cut me short, and laying his hand on my +shoulder, he looked me full in the face, while, with a struggle to +recover his gravity he said, + +"I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not mean +this for earnest! Why, my dear boy, don't you talk of the Eleusinian +Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle, of Alchemy, Astrology--of any thing, in +short, of which the world, having amused itself, has, at length, grown +weary? Can't you see that the Church has passed away, and these good +priests have gone the same road as their predecessors. Is any acuteness +wanting to show that there is an end of this superstition that has +enthralled men's minds for a couple of thousand years? No, no, their +game is up, and forever. These pious men, who despised this world, and +yet had no other hold upon the minds of others than by the very craft +and subtlety that world taught them. These heavenly souls, whose whole +machinations revolved about earthly objects and the successes of this +groveling planet! Fight for _them_! No, _parbleu_; we owe them but +little love or affection. Their whole aim in life has been to disgust +one with whatever is enjoyable, and the best boon they have conferred +upon humanity, that bright thought, of locking up the softest eyes and +fairest cheeks of France in cloisters and nunneries! I can forgive our +glorious revolution much of its wrong when I think of the Prêtre; not +but that they could have knocked down the Church without suffering the +ruins to crush the chateau!" + +Such, in brief, were the opinions my companion held, and of which I was +accustomed to hear specimens every day; at first, with displeasure and +repugnance; later on, with more of toleration; and, at last, with a +sense of amusement at the singularity of the notions, or the dexterity +with which he defended them. The poison of his doctrines was the more +insidious, because, mingled with a certain dash of good nature, and a +reckless, careless easiness of disposition, always attractive to very +young men. His reputation for courage, of which he had given signal +proofs, elevated him in my esteem; and, ere long, all my misgivings +about him, in regard of certain blemishes, gave way before my admiration +of his heroic bearing, and a readiness to confront peril, wherever to +be found. + +I had made him the confidant of my own history, of which I told him +every thing, save the passages which related to the Père Michel. These I +either entirely glossed over, or touched so lightly as to render +unimportant: a dread of ridicule restraining me from any mention of +those earlier scenes of my life, which were alone of all those I should +have avowed with pride. Perhaps it was from mere accident--perhaps some +secret shame to conceal my forlorn and destitute condition may have had +its share in the motive; but, for some cause or other, I gave him to +understand that my acquaintance with Colonel Mahon had dated back to a +much earlier period than a few days before, and, the impression once +made, a sense of false shame led me to support it. + +"Mahon can be a good friend to you," said Eugene; "he stands well with +all parties. The Convention trust him, the sansculottes are afraid of +him, and the few men of family whom the guillotine has left look up to +him as one of their stanchest adherents. Depend upon it, therefore, your +promotion is safe enough, even if there were not a field open for every +man who seeks the path to eminence. The great point, however, is to get +service with the army of Italy. These campaigns here are as barren and +profitless as the soil they are fought over; but, in the south, Maurice, +in the land of dark eyes and tresses, under the blue skies, or beneath +the trelliced vines, there are rewards of victory more glorious than a +grateful country, as they call it, ever bestowed. Never forget, my boy, +that you or I have no Cause! It is to us a matter of indifference what +party triumphs, or who is uppermost. The government may change +to-morrow, and the day after, and so on for a month long, and yet _we_ +remain just as we were. Monarchy, Commonwealth, Democracy--what you +will--may rule the hour, but the sous-lieutenant is but the servant who +changes his master. Now, in revenge for all this, we have one +compensation, which is, to 'live for the day.' To make the most of that +brief hour of sunshine granted us, and to taste of every pleasure, to +mingle in every dissipation, and enjoy every excitement that we can. +This is my philosophy, Maurice, and just try it." + +Such was the companion with whom chance threw me in contact, and I +grieve to think how rapidly his influence gained the mastery over me. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE PASSAGE OF THE RHINE." + + +I parted from my friend Eugene at Treves, where he remained in garrison, +while I was sent forward to Coblentz to join my regiment, at that time +forming part of Ney's division. + +Were I to adhere in my narrative to the broad current of great events, I +should here have to speak of that grand scheme of tactics by which +Kleber, advancing from the Lower Rhine, engaged the attention of the +Austrian Grand Duke, in order to give time and opportunity for Hoche's +passage of the river at Strasbourg, and the commencement of that +campaign which had for its object the subjugation of Germany. I have +not, however, the pretension to chronicle those passages which history +has forever made memorable, even were my own share in them of a more +distinguished character. The insignificance of my station must, +therefore, be my apology if I turn from the description of great and +eventful incidents to the humble narrative of my own career. + +Whatever the contents of Colonel Mahon's letter, they did not plead very +favorably for me with Colonel Hacque, my new commanding officer; +neither, to all seeming, did my own appearance weigh any thing in my +favor. Raising his eyes at intervals from the letter to stare at me, he +uttered some broken phrases of discontent and displeasure; at last he +said--"What's the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you +presented it to me?" + +"As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel," said I calmly, "I can +scarcely answer the question." + +"Well, sir, it informs me that you are the son of a certain Count +Tiernay; who has long since paid the price of his nobility; and that +being a special protégé of the writer, he takes occasion to present you +to me; now I ask again, with what object?" + +"I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honor which I now enjoy--to become +personally known to you." + +"I know every soldier under my command, sir," said he, rebukingly, "as +you will soon learn if you remain in my regiment. I have no need of +recommendatory letters on that score. As to your grade of corporal, it +is not confirmed; time enough when your services shall have shown that +you deserve promotion. Parbleu, sir, you'll have to show other claims +than your ci-devant countship." + +"Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir, may I be permitted to retain him as +a regimental mount?" asked I, timidly. + +"We want horses--what is he like?" + +"Three quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir." + +"Then of course, unfit for service and field manœuvres. Send him to +the Etat Major. The Republic will find a fitting mount for _you_; you +may retire." + +And I did retire, with a heart almost bursting between anger and +disappointment. What a future did this opening present to me! What a +realization this of all my flattering hopes! + +This sudden reverse of fortune, for it was nothing less, did not render +me more disposed to make the best of my new condition, nor see in the +most pleasing light the rough and rude fraternity among which I was +thrown. The Ninth Hussars were reputed to be an excellent service-corps, +but, off duty, contained some of the worst ingredients of the army. +Play, and its consequence dueling, filled up every hour not devoted to +regimental duty; and low as the tone of manners and morals stood in the +service generally, "Hacques Tapageurs," as they were called, enjoyed the +unflattering distinction of being the leaders. Self-respect was a +quality utterly unknown among them--none felt ashamed at the disgrace of +punishment--and as all knew that, at the approach of the enemy, prison +doors would open, and handcuffs fall off, they affected to think the +Salle de Police was a pleasant alternative to the fatigue and worry of +duty. These habits not only stripped soldiering of all its chivalry, but +robbed freedom itself of all its nobility. These men saw nothing but +licentiousness in their newly-won liberty. Their "Equality" was the +permission to bring every thing down to a base and unworthy standard; +their "Fraternity," the appropriation of what belonged to one richer +than themselves. + +It would give me little pleasure to recount, and the reader, in all +likelihood, as little to hear, the details of my life among such +associates. They are the passages of my history most painful to recall, +and least worthy of being remembered; nor can I even yet write without +shame the confession, how rapidly _their_ habits became _my own_. +Eugene's teachings had prepared me, in a manner, for their lessons. His +skepticism extending to every thing and every one, had made me +distrustful of all friendship, and suspicious of whatever appeared a +kindness. Vulgar association, and daily intimacy with coarsely-minded +men, soon finished what he had begun; and in less time than it took me +to break my troop-horse to regimental drill, I had been myself "broke +in" to every vice and abandoned habit of my companions. + +It was not in my nature to do things by halves; and thus I became, and +in a brief space too, the most inveterate Tapageur of the whole +regiment. There was not a wild prank or plot in which I was not +foremost, not a breach of the discipline unaccompanied by my name or +presence, and more than half the time of our march to meet the enemy, I +passed in double irons under the guard of the Provost-marshal. + +It was at this pleasant stage of my education that our brigade arrived +in Strasbourg, as part of the corps d'armée under the command of General +Moreau. + +He had just succeeded to the command on the dismissal of Pichegru, and +found the army not only dispirited by the defeats of the past campaign, +but in a state of rudest indiscipline and disorganization. If left to +himself, he would have trusted much to time and circumstances for the +reform of abuses that had been the growth of many months long. But +Regnier, the second in command, was made of "different stuff;" he was a +harsh and stern disciplinarian, who rarely forgave a first, never a +second offense, and who deeming the Salle de Police as an incumbrance to +an army on service, which, besides, required a guard of picked men, +that might be better employed elsewhere, usually gave the preference to +the shorter sentence of "four spaces and a fusillade." Nor was he +particular in the classification of those crimes he thus expiated: from +the most trivial excess to the wildest scheme of insubordination, all +came under the one category. More than once, as we drew near to +Strasbourg, I heard the project of a mutiny discussed, day after day. +Some one or other would denounce the "scelerat Regnier," and proclaim +his readiness to be the executioner; but the closer we drew to +head-quarters, the more hushed and subdued became these mutterings, till +at last they ceased altogether; and a dark and forboding dread succeeded +to all our late boastings and denunciations. + +This at first surprised and then utterly disgusted me with my +companions. Brave as they were before the enemy, had they no courage for +their own countrymen? Was all their valor the offspring of security, or +could they only be rebellious when the penalty had no terrors for them? +Alas! I was very young, and did not then know that men are never strong +against the right, and that a bad cause is always a weak one. + +It was about the middle of June when we reached Strasbourg, where now +about forty thousand troops were assembled. I shall not readily forget +the mingled astonishment and disappointment our appearance excited as +the regiment entered the town. The Tapageurs, so celebrated for all +their terrible excesses and insubordination, were seen to be a fine +corps of soldier-like fellows, their horses in high condition, their +equipments and arms in the very best order. Neither did our conduct at +all tally with the reputation that preceded us. All was orderly and +regular in the several billets; the parade was particularly observed; +not a man late at the night muster. What was the cause of this sudden +and remarkable change? Some said we were marching against the enemy; but +the real explanation lay in a few words of a general order read to us by +our colonel the day before we entered the city: + +"The 9th Hussars have obtained the unworthy reputation of being an +ill-disciplined and ill-conducted regiment, relying upon their +soldier-like qualities in face of the enemy to cover the disgrace +of-their misconduct in quarters. This is a mistake that must be +corrected. All Frenchmen are brave; none can arrogate to themselves any +prerogative of valor. If any wish to establish such a belief, a campaign +can always attest it. If any profess to think so without such proof, and +acting in conformity with this impression, disobey their orders or +infringe regimental discipline, I will have them shot. + + "REGNIER, + "_Adjutant-general_." + +This was, at least, a very straight-forward and intelligible +announcement, and as such my comrades generally acknowledged it. I, +however regarded it as a piece of monstrous and intolerable tyranny, +and sought to make converts to my opinion by declaiming about the rights +of Frenchmen, the liberty of free discussion, the glorious privilege of +equality, and so on; but these arguments sounded faint in presence of +the drum-head; and while some slunk away from the circle around me, +others significantly hinted that they would accept no part of the danger +my doctrines might originate. + +However I might have respected my comrades, had they been always the +well-disciplined body I now saw them, I confess, that this sudden +conversion from fear, was in nowise to my taste, and rashly confounded +their dread of punishment with a base and ignoble fear of death. "And +these are the men," thought I, "who talk of their charging home through +the dense squares of Austria--who have hunted the leopard into the sea! +and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps!" + +A bold rebel, whatever may be the cause against which he revolts, will +always be sure of a certain ascendency. Men are prone to attribute power +to pretension, and he who stands foremost in the breach will at least +win the suffrages of those whose cause he assumes to defend. In this way +if happened that exactly as my comrades fell in my esteem, I was +elevated in theirs; and while I took a very depreciating estimate of +their courage, _they_ conceived a very exalted opinion of mine. + +It was altogether inexplicable to see these men, many of them the +bronzed veterans of a dozen campaigns--the wounded and distinguished +soldiers in many a hard-fought field, yielding up their opinions and +sacrificing their convictions to a raw and untried stripling, who had +never yet seen an enemy. + +With a certain fluency of speech I possessed also a readiness at picking +up information, and arraying the scattered fragments of news into a +certain consistence, which greatly imposed upon my comrades. A quick eye +for manœuvres, and a shrewd habit of combining in my own mind the +various facts that came before me, made me appear to them a perfect +authority on military matters, of which I talked, I shame to say, with +all the confidence and presumption of an accomplished general. A few +lucky guesses, and a few half hints, accidentally confirmed, completed +all that was wanting; and what says "Le Jeune Maurice," was the +inevitable question that followed each piece of flying gossip, or every +rumor that rose of a projected movement. + +I have seen a good deal of the world since that time, and I am bound to +confess, that not a few of the great reputations I have witnessed, have +stood upon grounds very similar, and not a whit more stable than my own. +A bold face, a ready tongue, a promptness to support, with my right +hand, whatever my lips were pledged to, and, above all, good luck, made +me the king of my company; and although that sovereignty only extended +to half a squadron of hussars, it was a whole universe to me. + +So stood matters when, on the 23d of June, orders came for the whole +_corps d'armée_ to hold itself in readiness for a forward movement. +Rations for two days were distributed, and ammunition given out, as if +for an attack of some duration. Meanwhile, to obviate any suspicion of +our intentions, the gates of Strasbourg, on the eastern side, were +closed--all egress in that direction forbidden--and couriers and +estafettes sent off toward the north, as if to provide for the march of +our force in that direction. The arrival of various orderly dragoons +during the previous night, and on that morning early, told of a great +attack in force on Manheim, about sixty miles lower down the Rhine, and +the cannonade of which some avowed that they could hear at that +distance. The rumor, therefore, seemed confirmed, that we were ordered +to move to the north, to support this assault. + +The secret dispatch of a few dismounted dragoons and some rifle-men to +the banks of the Rhine, however, did not strike me as according with +this view, and particularly as I saw that, although all were equipped, +and in readiness to move, the order to march was not given, a delay very +unlikely to be incurred, if we were destined to act as the reserve of +the force already engaged. + +Directly opposite to us, on the right bank of the river, and separated +from it by a low flat, of about two miles in extent, stood the fortress +of Kehl, at that time garrisoned by a strong Austrian force; the banks +of the river, and the wooded islands in the stream, which communicated +with the right by bridges, or fordable passes, being also held by the +enemy in force. + +These we had often seen, by the aid of telescopes, from the towers and +spires of Strasbourg; and now I remarked that the general and his staff +seemed more than usually intent on observing their movements. This fact, +coupled with the not less significant one, that no preparations for a +defense of Strasbourg were in progress, convinced me that, instead of +moving down the Rhine to the attack on Manheim, the plan of our general +was, to cross the river where we were, and make a dash at the fortress +of Kehl. I was soon to receive the confirmation of my suspicion, as the +orders came for two squadrons of the ninth to proceed, dismounted, to +the bank of the Rhine, and, under shelter of the willows, to conceal +themselves there. Taking possession of the various skiffs and fishing +boats along the bank, we were distributed in small parties, to one of +which, consisting of eight men under the orders of a corporal, I +belonged. + +About an hour's march brought us to the river side, in a little clump of +alder willows, where, moored to a stake, lay a fishing boat with two +short oars in her. Lying down beneath the shade, for the afternoon was +hot and sultry, some of us smoked, some chatted, and a few dozed away +the hours that somehow seemed unusually slow in passing. + +There was a certain dogged sullenness about my companions, which +proceeded from their belief, that we and all who remained at Strasbourg, +were merely left to occupy the enemy's attention, while greater +operations were to be carried on elsewhere. + +"You see what it is to be a condemned corps," muttered one; "it's little +matter what befalls the old ninth, even should they be cut to pieces." + +"They didn't think so at Enghein," said another, "when we rode down the +Austrian cuirassiers." + +"Plain enough," cried a third, "we are to have skirmishers' duty here, +without skirmishers' fortune in having a force to fall back upon." + +"Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?" broke in +a fourth ironically. + +"I'm of the same mind still," rejoined I, coolly, "the general is not +thinking of a retreat; he has no intention of deserting a +well-garrisoned, well-provisioned fortress. Let the attack on Manheim +have what success it may, Strasbourg will be held still. I overheard +Colonel Guyon remark, that the waters of the Rhine have fallen three +feet since the drought set in, and Regnier replied, 'that we must lose +no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.' Now what could +that mean, but the intention to cross over yonder?" + +"Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!" broke in the corporal. + +"The French army have done bolder things before now!" was my reply, and +whatever the opinion of my comrades, the flattery ranged them on _my_ +side. Perhaps the corporal felt it beneath his dignity to discuss +tactics with an inferior, or perhaps he felt unable to refute the +specious pretensions I advanced; in any case he turned away, and either +slept, or affected sleep, while I strenuously labored to convince my +companions that my surmise was correct. + +I repeated all my former arguments about the decrease in the Rhine, +showing that the river was scarcely two-thirds of its habitual breadth, +that the nights were now dark, and well suited for a surprise, that the +columns which issued from the town took their departure with a pomp and +parade far more likely to attract the enemy's attention than escape his +notice, and were, therefore, the more likely to be destined for some +secret expedition, of which all this display was but the blind. These, +and similar facts, I grouped together with a certain ingenuity, which, +if it failed to convince, at least silenced my opponents. And now the +brief twilight, if so short a struggle between day and darkness deserved +the name, passed off, and night suddenly closed around us--a night black +and starless, for a heavy mass of lowering cloud seemed to unite with +the dense vapor that arose from the river, and the low-lying grounds +alongside of it. The air was hot and sultry, too, like the precursor of +a thunder-storm, and the rush of the stream as it washed among the +willows sounded preternaturally loud in the stillness. + +A hazy, indistinct flame, the watch-fire of the enemy, on the island of +Eslar, was the only object visible in the murky darkness. After a while, +however, we could detect another fire on a smaller island, a short +distance higher up the stream. This, at first dim and uncertain, blazed +up after a while, and at length we descried the dark shadows of men as +they stood around it. + +It was but the day before that I had been looking on a map of the Rhine, +and remarked to myself that this small island, little more than a mere +rook in the stream, was so situated as to command the bridge between +Eslar and the German bank, and I could not help wondering that the +Austrians had never taken the precaution to strengthen it, or at least +place a gun there, to enfilade the bridge. Now, to my extreme +astonishment, I saw it occupied by the soldiery, who, doubtless, were +artillery, as in such a position small arms would prove of slight +efficiency. As I reflected over this, wondering within myself if any +intimation of our movements could have reached the enemy, I heard along +the ground on which I was lying the peculiar tremulous, dull sound +communicated by a large body of men marching. The measured tramp could +not be mistaken, and as I listened I could perceive that a force was +moving toward the river from different quarters. The rumbling roll of +heavy guns and the clattering noise of cavalry were also easily +distinguished, and awaking one of my comrades I called his attention to +the sounds. + +"Parbleu!" said he, "thou'rt right; they're going to make a dash at the +fortress, and there will be hot work ere morning. What say you now, +corporal, has Maurice hit it off this time?" + +"That's as it may be," growled the other, sulkily; "guessing is easy +work ever for such as thee! but if he be so clever, let him tell us why +are we stationed along the river's bank in small detachments. We have +had no orders to observe the enemy, nor to report upon any thing that +might go forward; nor do I see with what object we were to secure the +fishing boats; troops could never be conveyed across the Rhine in skin's +like these!" + +"I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen +giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack," replied I. + +"Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided on," +said he, contemptuously. "For a fellow that never saw the smoke of an +enemy's gun thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!" + +"Yonder is the best answer to your taunt," said I, as in a little bend +of the stream beside us, two boats were seen to pull under the shelter +of the tall alders, from which the clank of arms could be plainly heard; +and now another larger launch swept past, the dark shadows of a dense +crowd of men showing above the gunwale. + +"They are embarking, they are certainly embarking," now ran from mouth +to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river's bank they were speedily +"told off" in separate divisions of which some were to lead the attack, +others to follow, and a third portion to remain as a reserve in the +event of a repulse. + +The leading boat was manned entirely by volunteers, and I could hear +from where I lay the names called aloud as the men stepped out from the +ranks. I could hear that the first point of attack was the island of +Eslar. So far there was a confirmation of my own guessing, and I did not +hesitate to assume the full credit of my skill from my comrades. In +truth, they willingly conceded all or even more than I asked for. Not a +stir was heard, not a sight seen, not a movement made of which I was not +expected to tell the cause and the import; and knowing that to sustain +my influence there was nothing for it but to affect a thorough +acquaintance with every thing, I answered all their questions boldly and +unhesitatingly. I need scarcely observe that the corporal in comparison +sunk into down-right insignificance. He had already shown himself a +false guide, and none asked his opinion further, and I became the ruling +genius of the hour. The embarkation now went briskly forward, several +light field guns were placed in the boats, and two or three large rafts, +capable of containing two companies each, were prepared to be towed +across by boats. + +Exactly as the heavy hammer of the cathedral struck one, the first boat +emerged from the willows, and darting rapidly forward, headed for the +middle of the stream; another and another in quick succession followed, +and speedily were lost to us in the gloom; and now, two four-oared +skiffs stood out together, having a raft, with two guns, in tow; by some +mischance, however, they got entangled in a side current, and the raft +swerving to one side, swept past the boats, carrying them down the +stream along with it. Our attention was not suffered to dwell on this +mishap, for at the same moment the flash and rattle of fire-arms told us +the battle had begun. Two or three isolated shots were first heard, and +then a sharp platoon fire, accompanied by a wild cheer, that we well +knew came from our own fellows. One deep mellow boom of a large gun +resounded amid the crash, and a slight streak of flame, higher up the +stream, showed that the shot came from the small island I have already +spoken of. + +"Listen, lads," said I, "that came from the 'Fels Insel.' If they are +firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer sorely +from it. By Jove there is a crash!" + +As I was speaking a rattling noise like the sound of clattering timber +was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was hushed. + +"Let's at them, boys; they can't be much above our own number. The +island is a mere rock," cried I to my comrades. + +"Who commands this party?" said the corporal, "you or I?" + +"You, if you lead us against the enemy," said I; "but I'll take it if +my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads--yes or +no--now is the time to speak." + +"We're ready," cried three, springing forward, with one impulse. + +At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their places, +and then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, leaving the +corporal alone on the bank. + +"Come along, corporal," cried I, "we'll win your epaulets for you;" but +he turned away without a word; and not waiting further, I pushed out the +skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream. + +"Pull steady, boys, and silently," said I; "we must gain the middle of +the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once +beneath the trees, we'll give them a volley, and then the bayonet. +Remember, lads, no flinching; it's as well to die here as be shot by old +Regnier to-morrow." + +The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its height. +The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from time to +time, streaked the darkness above the river. + +"Stronger and together, boys--once more--there it is--we are in the +current, now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines--see that the +priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusilade. Lie still +now, and wait for the word to fire." + +The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads as I +spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly on +till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered up +the little cliff; and as we reached the top, beheld immediately beneath +us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a gun, which +they were busy in adjusting. I looked right and left to see that my +little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more, gave the +order--fire! + +We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The +terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled +from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow +part of the stream, between the island and the right bank. + +Our prize was a brass eight pounder, and an ample supply of ammunition. +The gun was pointed toward the middle of the stream, where the current +being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed; and in all +likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already experienced its +fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on the Eslar bridge, +was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three of our little party +kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the others loaded the gun +and prepared to fire. + +Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could judge +from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards; and as we +had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our position was +admirable. + +"Wait patiently, lads," said I, restraining, with difficulty, the +burning ardor of my men. "Wait patiently, till the retreat has commenced +over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on the island: +to fire upon them there, would be to risk our own men as much as the +enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the brushwood: +and listen to the cheering now. That was a French cheer! and there goes +another! Look! look, the bridge is darkening already! That was a +bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now, lads--now!" + +As I spoke; the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the +crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and +splintered the wood-work in all directions. + +"The range is perfect, lads," cried I. "Load and fire with all speed." + +Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told how +the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of my +heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to load +faster. + +Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and the +seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down went +the densely crowded column into the Rhine; at the same instant, the guns +of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which soon +were swept clean of the enemy. + +High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could see +the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the Rhine +had been effected, and we now prepared to follow. + +_To be continued._ + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +AN AERIAL VOYAGE. + + +Of all the wonderful discoveries which modern science has given birth +to, there is perhaps not one which has been applied to useful purposes +on a scale so unexpectedly contracted as that by which we are enabled to +penetrate into the immense ocean of air with which our globe is +surrounded, and to examine the physical phenomena which are manifested +in its upper strata. One would have supposed that the moment the power +was conferred upon us to leave the surface of the earth, and rise above +the clouds into the superior regions, a thousand eager inquirers would +present themselves as agents in researches in a region so completely +untrodden, if such a term may here be permitted. + +Nevertheless, this great invention of aerial navigation has remained +almost barren. If we except the celebrated aerial voyage of Gay-Lussac +in 1804, the balloon, with its wonderful powers, has been allowed to +degenerate into a mere theatrical exhibition, exciting the vacant and +unreflecting wonder of the multitude. Instead of being an instrument of +philosophical research, it has become a mere expedient for profit in +the hands of charlatans, so much so, that, on the occasion to which we +are now about to advert, the persons who engaged in the project incurred +failure, and risked their lives, from their aversion to avail themselves +of the experience of those who had made aerostation a mere spectacle for +profit. They thought that to touch pitch they must be defiled, and +preferred danger and the risk of failure to such association. + +It is now about two months since M. Barral, a chemist of some +distinction at Paris, and M. Bixio, a member of the Legislative Assembly +(whose name will be remembered in connection with the bloody +insurrection of June, 1848, when, bravely and humanely discharging his +duty in attempting to turn his guilty fellow-citizens from their course, +he nearly shared the fate of the Archbishop, and was severely wounded), +resolved upon making a grand experiment with a view to observe and +record the meteorological phenomena of the strata of the atmosphere, at +a greater height and with more precision than had hitherto been +accomplished. But from the motives which we have explained, the project +was kept secret, and it was resolved that the experiment should be made +at an hour of the morning, and under circumstances, which would prevent +it from degenerating into an exhibition. MM. Arago and Regnault +undertook to supply the aerial voyagers with a programme of the proposed +performance, and instruments suited to the projected observations. M. +Arago prepared the programme, in which was stated clearly what +observations were to be made at every stage of the ascentional movement. + +It was intended that the balloon should be so managed as to come to rest +at certain altitudes, when barometric, thermometric, hygrometric, +polariscopic, and other observations, were to be taken and noted; the +balloon after each series of observations to make a new ascent. + +The precious instruments by which these observations were to be made +were prepared, and in some cases actually fabricated and graduated, by +the hands of M. Regnault himself. + +To provide the balloon and its appendages, recourse was had to some of +those persons who have followed the fabrication of balloons as a sort of +trade, for the purposes of exhibition. + +In this part of their enterprise the voyagers were not so fortunate, as +we shall presently see, and still less so in having taken the resolution +to ascend alone, unaccompanied by a practiced æronaut. It is probable +that if they had selected a person, such as Mr. Green, for example, who +had already made frequent ascents for the mere purpose of exhibition, +and who had become familiar with the practical management of the +machine, a much more favorable result would have ensued. As it was, the +two voyagers ascended for the first time, and placed themselves in a +position like that of a natural philosopher, who, without previous +practice, should undertake to drive a locomotive, with its train on a +railway at fifty miles an hour, rejecting the humble but indispensable +aid of an experienced engine-driver. + +The necessary preparations having been made, and the programme and the +instruments prepared, it was resolved to make the ascent from the garden +behind the Observatory at Paris, a plateau of some elevation, and free +from buildings and other obstacles, at day-break of Saturday, the 29th +June. At midnight the balloon was brought to the spot, but the inflation +was not completed until nearly 10 o'clock, A.M. + +It has since been proved that the balloon was old and worn, and that it +ought not to have been supplied for such an occasion. + +It was obviously patched, and it is now known that two seamstresses were +employed during the preceding day in mending it, and some stitching even +was found necessary after it had arrived at the Observatory. + +The net-work which included and supported the car was new, and not +originally made with a view to the balloon it inclosed, the consequences +of which will be presently seen. + +The night, between Friday and Saturday, was one of continual rain, and +the balloon and its netting became thoroughly saturated with moisture. +By the time the inflation had been completed, it became evident that the +net-work was too small; but in the anxiety to carry into effect the +project, the consequences of this were most unaccountably overlooked. We +say unaccountably, because it is extremely difficult to conceive how +experimental philosophers and practiced observers, like MM. Arago and +Regnault, to say nothing of numerous subordinate scientific agents who +were present, did not anticipate what must have ensued in the upper +regions of the air. Nevertheless, such was the fact. + +On the morning of Saturday, the instruments being duly deposited in the +car, the two enterprising voyagers placed themselves in it, and the +balloon, which previously had been held down by the strength of twenty +men, was liberated, and left to plunge into the ocean of air, at +twenty-seven minutes after ten o'clock. + +The weather, as we have already stated, was unfavorable, the sky being +charged with clouds. As it was the purpose of this project to examine +much higher regions of the atmosphere than those which it had been +customary for aeronautic exhibitors to rise to, the arrangements of +ballast and inflation which were adopted, were such as to cause the +ascent to be infinitely more rapid than in the case of public +exhibitions; in short, the balloon darted upward with the speed of an +arrow, and in two minutes from the moment it was liberated, that is to +say, at twenty-nine minutes past ten, plunged into the clouds, and was +withdrawn from the anxious view of the distinguished persons assembled +in the garden of the Observatory. + +While passing through this dense cloud, the voyagers carefully observed +the barometer, and knew by the rapid fall of the mercury that they were +ascending with a great velocity. Fifteen minutes elapsed before they +emerged from the cloud; when they did so, however, a glorious spectacle +presented itself. The balloon, emerging from the superior surface of the +cloud, rose under a splendid canopy of azure, and shone with the rays of +a brilliant sun. The cloud which they had just passed, was soon seen +several thousand feet below them. From the observations taken with the +barometer and thermometer, it was afterward found that the thickness of +the cloud through which they had passed, was 9800 feet--a little less +than two miles. On emerging from the cloud, our observers examined the +barometer, and found that the mercury had fallen to the height of 18 +inches; the thermometer showed a temperature of 45° Fahr. The height of +the balloon above the level of the sea was then 14,200 feet. At the +moment of emerging from the cloud, M. Barral made polariscopic +observation, which established a fact foreseen by M. Arago, that the +light reflected from the surface of the clouds, was unpolarized light. + +The continued and somewhat considerable fall of the barometer informed +the observers that their ascent still continued to be rapid. The rain +which had previously fallen, and which wetted the balloon, and saturated +the cordage forming the net-work, had now ceased, or, to speak more +correctly, the balloon had passed above the region in which the rain +prevailed. The strong action of the sun, and almost complete dryness of +the air in which the vast machine now floated, caused the evaporation of +the moisture which enveloped it. The cordage and the balloon becoming +dry, and thus relieved of a certain weight of liquid, was affected as +though a quantity of ballast had been thrown out, and it darted upward +with increased velocity. + +It was within one minute of eleven, when the observers finding the +barometer cease the upward motion, and finding that the machine +oscillated round a position of equilibrium by noticing the bearing of +the sun, they found the epoch favorable for another series of +observations. The barometer there indicated that the balloon had +attained the enormous height of 19,700 feet. The moisture which had +invested the thermometer had frozen upon it, and obstructed, for the +moment, observations with it. It was while M. Barral was occupied in +wiping the icicles from it, that, turning his eye upward, he beheld what +would have been sufficient to have made the stoutest heart quail with +fear. + +To explain the catastrophe which at this moment, and at nearly 20,000 +feet above the surface of the earth, and about a mile above the highest +strata of the clouds, menaced the voyagers, we must recur to what we +have already stated in reference to the balloon and the net-work. As it +was intended to ascend to an unusual altitude, it was of course known, +that in consequence of the highly rarefied state of the atmosphere, and +its very much diminished pressure, the gas contained in the balloon +would have a great tendency to distend, and, consequently, space must be +allowed for the play of this effect. The balloon, therefore, at +starting, was not nearly filled with gas, and yet, as we have explained +it, very nearly filled the net-work which inclosed it. Is it not strange +that some among the scientific men present did not foresee, that when it +would ascend into a highly rarefied atmosphere, it would necessarily +distend itself to such a magnitude, that the netting would be utterly +insufficient to contain it? Such effect, so strangely unforeseen, now +disclosed itself practically realized to the astonished and terrified +eyes of M. Barral. + +The balloon, in fact, had so swelled as not only completely to fill the +netting which covered it, but to force its way, in a frightful manner, +through the hoop under it, from which the car, and the voyagers were +suspended. + +In short, the inflated silk protruding downward through the hoop, now +nearly touched the heads of the voyagers. In this emergency the remedy +was sufficiently obvious. + +The valve must be opened, and the balloon breathed, so as to relieve it +from the over-inflation. Now, it is well known, that the valve in this +machine is placed in a sort of sleeve, of a length more or less +considerable, connected with the lower part of the balloon, through +which sleeve the string-of the valve passes. M. Barral, on looking for +this sleeve, found that it had disappeared. Further search showed that +the balloon being awkwardly and improperly placed in the inclosing +net-work, the valve-sleeve, instead of hanging clear of the hoop, had +been gathered up in the net-work above the hoop; so that, to reach it, +it would have been necessary to have forced a passage between the +inflated silk and the hoop. + +Now, here it must be observed, that such an incident could never have +happened to the most commonly-practiced balloon exhibitor, whose first +measure, before leaving the ground, would be to secure access to, and +the play of the valve. This, however, was, in the present case, fatally +overlooked. It was, in fine, now quite apparent, that either of two +effects must speedily ensue--viz.: either the car and the voyagers would +be buried in the inflated silk which was descending upon them, and thus +they would he suffocated, or that the force of distention must burst the +balloon. If a rupture were to take place in that part immediately over +the car, then the voyagers would be suffocated by an atmosphere of +hydrogen; if it should take place at a superior part, then the balloon, +rapidly discharged of its gas, would be precipitated to the earth, and +the destruction of its occupants rendered inevitable. + +Under these circumstances the voyagers did not lose their presence of +mind, but calmly considered their situation, and promptly decided upon +the course to be adopted. M. Barral climbed up the side of the car, and +the net-work suspending it, and forced his way through the hoop, so as +to catch hold of the valve-sleeve. In this operation, however, he was +obliged to exercise a force which produced a rent in a part of the silk +below the hoop, and immediately over the car. In a moment the hydrogen +gas issued with terrible force from the balloon, and the voyagers found +themselves involved in an atmosphere of it. + +Respiration became impossible, and they were nearly suffocated. A glance +at the barometer, however, showed them that they were falling to the +ground with the most fearful rapidity. + +During a few moments they experienced all the anguish attending +asphyxia. From this situation, however, they were relieved more speedily +than they could then have imagined possible; but the cause which +relieved them soon became evident, and inspired them with fresh terrors. + +M. Barral, from the indications of the barometer, knew that they were +being precipitated to the surface of the earth with a velocity so +prodigious, that the passage of the balloon through the atmosphere +dispelled the mass of hydrogen with which they had been surrounded. + +It was, nevertheless, evident that the small rent which had been +produced in the lower part of the balloon, by the abortive attempt to +obtain access to the valve, could not have been the cause of a fall so +rapid. + +M. Barral, accordingly, proceeded to examine the external surface of the +balloon, as far as it was visible from the car, and, to his astonishment +and terror, he discovered that a rupture had taken place, and that a +rent was made, about five feet in length, along the equator of the +machine, through which, of course, the gas was now escaping in immense +quantities. Here was the cause of the frightful precipitation of the +descent, and a source of imminent danger in the fall. + +M. Barral promptly decided on the course to be taken. + +It was resolved to check the descent by the discharge of the ballast, +and every other article of weight. But this process, to be effectual, +required to be conducted with considerable coolness and skill. They were +some thousand feet above the clouds. If the ballast were dismissed too +soon, the balloon must again acquire a perilous velocity before it would +reach the earth. If, on the other hand, its descent were not moderated +in time, its fall might become so precipitate as to be ungovernable. +Nine or ten sand-bags being, therefore, reserved for the last and +critical moment, all the rest of the ballast was discharged. The fall +being still frightfully rapid, the voyagers cast out, as they descended +through the cloud already mentioned, every article of weight which they +had, among which were the blankets and woolen clothing which they had +brought to cover them in the upper regions of the atmosphere, their +shoes, several bottles of wine, all, in fine, save and except the +philosophical instruments. These they regarded as the soldier does his +flag, not to be surrendered save with life. M. Bixio, when about to +throw over a trifling apparatus, called an aspirator, composed of +copper, and filled with water, was forbidden by M. Barral, and obeyed +the injunction. + +They soon emerged from the lower stratum of the cloud, through which +they had fallen in less than two minutes, having taken fifteen minutes +to ascend through it. The earth was now in sight, and they were dropping +upon it like a stone. Every weighty article had been dismissed, except +the nine sand-bags, which had been designedly reserved to break the +shock on arriving at the surface. They observed that they were directly +over some vine-grounds near Lagny, in the department of the Seine and +Marne, and could distinctly see a number of laborers engaged in their +ordinary toil, who regarded with unmeasured astonishment the enormous +object about to drop upon them. It was only when they arrived at a few +hundred feet from the surface that the nine bags of sand were dropped by +M. Barral, and by this manœuvre the lives of the voyagers were +probably saved. The balloon reached the ground, and the car struck among +the vines. Happily the wind was gentle; but gentle as it was it was +sufficient, acting upon the enormous surface of the balloon, to drag the +car along the ground, as if it were drawn by fiery and ungovernable +horses. Now arrived a moment of difficulty and danger, which also had +been foreseen and provided for by M. Barral. If either of the voyagers +had singly leaped from the car, the balloon, lightened of so much +weight, would dart up again into the air. Neither voyager would consent, +then, to purchase his own safety at the risk of the other. M. Barral, +therefore, threw his body half down from the car, laying hold of the +vine-stakes, as he was dragged along, and directing M. Bixio to hold +fast to his feet. In this way the two voyagers, by their united bodies, +formed a sort of anchor, the arms of M. Barral playing the part of the +fluke, and the body of M. Bixio that of the cable. + +In this way M. Barral was dragged over a portion of the vineyard +rapidly, without any other injury than a scratch or contusion of the +face, produced by one of the vine-stakes. + +The laborers just referred to meanwhile collected, and pursued the +balloon, and finally succeeded in securing it, and in liberating the +voyagers, whom they afterward thanked for the bottles of excellent wine +which, as they supposed, had fallen from the heavens, and which, +wonderful to relate, had not been broken from the fall, although, as has +been stated, they had been discharged above the clouds. The astonishment +and perplexity of the rustics can be imagined on seeing these bottles +drop in the vineyard. + +This fact also shows how perpendicularly the balloon must have dropped, +since the bottles dismissed from such a height, fell in the same field +where, in a minute afterward, the balloon also dropped. + +The entire descent from the altitude of twenty thousand feet was +effected in seven minutes, being at the average rate of fifty feet per +second. + +In fine, we have to report that these adventurous partisans of science, +nothing discouraged by the catastrophe which has occurred have resolved +to renew the experiment under, as may he hoped, less inauspicious +circumstances; and we trust that on the next occasion they will not +disdain to avail themselves of the co-operation and presence of some one +of those persons, who having hitherto practiced aerial navigation for +the mere purposes of amusement, will, doubtless, be too happy to invest +one at least of their labors with a more useful and more noble +character. + + + + +(From the Dublin University Magazine.) + +ANDREW CARSON'S MONEY; A STORY OF GOLD. + + +The night of a bitter winter day had come; frost, and hail, and snow +carried a sense of new desolation to the cold hearths of the moneyless, +while the wealthy only drew the closer to their bright fires, and +experienced stronger feelings of comfort. + +In a small back apartment of a mean house, in one of the poorest +quarters of Edinburgh, a young man sat with a pen in his fingers, +endeavoring to write, though the blue tint of his nails showed that the +blood was almost frozen in his hands. There was no fire in the room; the +old iron grate was rusty and damp, as if a fire had not blazed in it for +years; the hail dashed against the fractured panes of the window; the +young man was poorly and scantily dressed, and he was very thin, and +bilious to all appearance; his sallow, yellow face and hollow eyes told +of disease, misery, and the absence of hope. + +His hand shook with cold, as, by the light of the meanest and cheapest +of candles, he slowly traced line after line, with the vain thought of +making money by his writings. In his boyish days he had entered the +ranks of literature, with the hopes of fame to lead him on, but +disappointment after disappointment, and miserable circumstances of +poverty and suffering had been his fate: now the vision of fame had +become dim in his sick soul--he was writing with the hope of gaining +money, any trifle, by his pen. + +Of all the ways of acquiring money to which the millions bend their best +energies, that of literature is the most forlorn. The artificers of +necessaries and luxuries, for the animal existence, have the world as +their customers; but those who labor for the mind have but a limited +few, and therefore the supply of mental work is infinitely greater than +the demand, and thousands of the unknown and struggling, even though +possessed of much genius, must sink before the famous few who +monopolize the literary market, and so the young writer is overlooked. +He may be starving, but his manuscripts will be returned to him; the +emoluments of literature are flowing in other channels; he is one added +to the thousands too many in the writing world; his efforts may bring +him misery and madness, but not money. + +The door of the room opened, and a woman entered; and advancing near the +little table on which the young man was writing, she fixed her eyes on +him with a look in which anger, and the extreme wretchedness which +merges on insanity, were mingled. She seemed nearly fifty; her features +had some remaining traces of former regularity and beauty, but her whole +countenance now was a volume filled with the most squalid suffering and +evil passions; her cheeks and eyes were hollow, as if she had reached +the extreme of old age; she was emaciated to a woeful degree; her dress +was poor dirty, and tattered, and worn without any attempt at proper +arrangement. + +"Writing! writing! writing! Thank God, Andrew Carson, the pen will soon +drop from your fingers with starvation." + +The woman said this in a half-screaming, but weak and broken-down voice. + +"Mother, let me have some peace," said the young writer, turning his +face away, so that he might not see her red glaring eyes fixed on him. + +"Ay, Andrew Carson, I say thank God that the force of hunger will soon +now make you drop that cursed writing. Thank God, if there _is_ the God +that my father used to talk about in the long nights in the bonnie +highland glen, where it's like a dream of lang syne that I ever lived." + +She pressed her hands on her breast, as if some recollections of an +overpowering nature were in her soul. + +"The last rag in your trunk has gone to the pawn; you have neither +shirt, nor coat, nor covering now, except what you've on. +Write--write--if you can, without eating; to-morrow you'll have neither +meat nor drink here, nor aught now to get money on." + +"Mother, I am in daily expectation of receiving something for my writing +now; the post this evening may bring me some good news." + +He said this with hesitation, and there was little of hope in the +expression of his face. + +"Good news! good news about your writing! that's the good news 'ill +never come; never, you good-for-nothing scribbler!" + +She screamed forth the last words in a voice of frenzy. Her tone was a +mixture of Scotch and Irish accents. She had resided for some years of +her earlier life in Ireland. + +As the young writer looked at her and listened to her, the pen shook in +his hand. + +"Go out, and work, and make money. Ay, the working people can live on +the best, while you, with that pen in your fingers, are starving +yourself and me." + +"Mother, I am not strong enough for labor, and my tastes are strongly, +very strongly, for literature." + +"Not strong enough! you're twenty past. It's twenty long years since the +cursed night I brought you into the world." The young writer gazed +keenly on his mother, for he was afraid she was under the influence of +intoxication, as was too often the case; but he did not know how she +could have obtained money, as he knew there was not a farthing in the +house. The woman seemed to divine the meaning of his looks-- + +"I'm not drunk, don't think it," she cried; "it's the hunger and the +sorrow that's in my head." + +"Well, mother, perhaps this evening's post may have some good +intelligence." + +"What did the morning's post bring? There, there--don't I see it--them's +the bonnie hopes of yours." + +She pointed to the table, where lay a couple of returned manuscripts. +Andrew glanced toward the parcel, and made a strong effort to suppress +the deep sigh which heaved his breast. + +"Ay, there it is--there's a bundle of that stuff ye spend your nights +and days writing; taking the flesh off your bones, and making that face +of yours so black and yellow; it's your father's face, too--ay--well +it's like him now, indeed--the ruffian. I wish I had never seen him, nor +you, nor this world." + +"My father," said Andrew, and a feeling of interest overspread his +bloodless face. "You have told me little of him. Why do you speak of him +so harshly?" + +"Go and work, and make money, I say. I tell you I must get money; right +or wrong, I must get it; there's no living longer, and enduring what +I've endured. I dream of being rich; I waken every morning from visions +where my hands are filled with money; that wakening turns my head, when +I know and see there is not a halfpenny in the house, and when I see +you, my son, sitting there, working like a fool with pen and brain, but +without the power to earn a penny for me. Go out and work with your +hands, I say again, and let me get money--do any thing, if it brings +money. There is the old woman over the way, who has a working son; his +mother may bless God that he is a shoemaker and not a poet; she is the +happy woman, so cozily covered with warm flannel and stuff this weary +weather, and her mutton, and her tea, and her money jingling in her +pocket forever; that's what a working son can do--a shoemaker can do +that." + +At this some noise in the kitchen called Mrs. Carson away, to the great +relief of Andrew. He rose, and closed the door gently after her. He +seated himself again, and took up his pen, but his head fell listlessly +on his hand; he felt as if his mother's words were yet echoing in his +ears. From his earliest infancy he had regarded her with fear and +wonder, more than love. + +Mrs. Carson was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman, who +was suspected by his brethren in the ministry of entertaining peculiar +views of religion on some points, and also of being at intervals rather +unsound in his mind. He bestowed, however, a superior education on his +only daughter, and instructed her carefully himself until his death, +which occurred when she was not more than fourteen. As her father left +her little if any support, she was under the necessity of going to +reside with relations in Ireland, who moved in a rather humble rank. Of +her subsequent history little was known to Andrew; she always maintained +silence regarding his father, and seemed angry when he ventured to +question her. Andrew was born in Ireland, and resided there until about +his eighth year, when his mother returned to Scotland. + +It was from his mother Andrew had gained all the little education that +had been bestowed on him. That education was most capriciously imparted, +and in its extent only went the length of teaching him to read +partially; for whatever further advances he had made he was indebted to +his own self-culture. At times his mother would make some efforts to +impress on him the advantages of education: she would talk of poetry, +and repeat specimens of the poets which her memory had retained from the +period of her girlhood in her father's house; but oftenest the language +of bitterness, violence, and execration was on her lips. With the +never-ceasing complaints of want--want of position, want of friends, +but, most of all, want of money--sounding in his ears, Andrew grew up a +poet. The unsettled and aimless mind of his mother, shadowed as it was +with perpetual blackness, prevented her from calmly and wisely striving +to place her son in some position by which he could have aided in +supporting himself and her. As a child, Andrew was shy and solitary, +caring little for the society of children of his own years, and taking +refuge from the never-ceasing violence of his mother's temper in the +privacy of his own poor bedroom, with some old book which he had +contrived to borrow, or with his pen, for he was a writer of verses from +an early age. + +Andrew was small-sized, sickly, emaciated, and feeble in frame; his mind +had much of the hereditary weakness visible in his mother; his +imagination and his passions were strong, and easily excited to such a +pitch as to overwhelm for the moment his reason. With a little-exercised +and somewhat defective judgment; with no knowledge of the world; with +few books; with a want of that tact possessed by some intellects, of +knowing and turning to account the tendencies of the age in literature, +it was hardly to be expected that Andrew would soon succeed as a poet, +though his imagination was powerful, and there was pathos and even +occasional sublimity in his poetry. For five long years he had been +toiling and striving without any success whatever in his vocation, in +the way of realizing either fame or emolument. + +Now, as he sat with his eyes fixed on the two returned manuscripts on +his table, his torturing memory passed in review before him the many +times his hopes had been equally lost. He was only twenty years of age, +yet he had endured so many disappointments! He shook and trembled with a +convulsive agony as he recalled poem after poem, odes, sonnets, epics, +dramas--he had tried every thing; he had built so many glorious +expectations on each as, night after night, shivering with cold and +faint with sickness, he had persisted in gathering from his mind, and +arranging laboriously, the brightest and most powerful of his poetical +fancies, and hoped, and was often almost sure, they would spread +broadly, and be felt deeply in the world. But there they had all +returned to him--there they lay, unknown, unheard of--they were only so +much waste paper. + +As each manuscript had found its way back to him, he had received every +one with an increasing bitterness and despair, which gradually wrought +his brain almost to a state of mental malady. By constitution he was +nervous and melancholy: the utmost of the world's success would hardly +have made him happy; he had no internal strength to cope with +disappointment--no sanguine hopes pointing to a brighter future: he was +overwhelmed with present failures. One moment he doubted sorely the +power of his own genius: and the thought was like death to him, for +without fame--without raising himself a name and a position above the +common masses--he felt he could not live. Again, he would lay the whole +blame on the undiscerning publishers to whom his poetry had been sent; +he would anathematize them all with the fierce bitterness of a soul +which was, alas! unsubdued in many respects by the softening and +humbling influences of the religion of Christ. He had not the calm +reflection which might have told him that, young, uneducated, utterly +unlearned in the world and in books as he was, his writings must of +necessity have a kind of inferiority to the works of those possessed of +more advantages. He had no deep, sober principles or thoughts; his +thoughts were feelings which bore him on their whirlwind course to the +depths of agony, and to the brink of the grave, for his health was +evidently seriously impaired by the indulgence of long-continued +emotions of misery. + +He took up one of the rejected manuscripts in his hand: it was a +legendary poem, modeled something after the style of Byron, though the +young author would have violently denied the resemblance. He thought of +the pains he had bestowed on it--of the amount of thought and +dreams--the sick, languid headaches, the pained breast, the weary mind +it had so often occasioned him; then he saw the marks of tears on +it--the gush of tears which had come as if to extinguish the fire of +madness which had kindled in his brain. When he saw that manuscript +returned to him, the marks of the tears were there staining the outside +page. He looked fixedly on that manuscript, and his thin face became +darker, and more expressive of all that is hopeless in human sorrow; +the bright light of success shone as if so far away from him now--away +at an endless distance, which neither his strength of body or mind could +ever carry him over. + +At that moment the sharp, rapid knock of the postman sounded in his +ears. His heart leaped up, and then suddenly sank with suffocating fear, +for the dark mood of despair was on him--could it be another returned +manuscript? He had only one now in the hands of a publisher; the one on +which he had expended all his powers--the one to which he had trusted +most: it was a tragedy. He had dreamed the preceding night that it had +been accepted; he had dreamed it had brought him showers of gold; he had +been for a moment happy beyond the bounds of human happiness, though he +had awoke with a sense of horror on his mind, he knew not why. The +publisher to whom he had sent his tragedy was to present it to the +manager of one of the London theatres. Had it been taken, performed, +successful?--a dream of glory, as if heaven had opened on him, +bewildered his senses. + +The door was rudely pushed open; his mother entered, and flung the +manuscript of the returned tragedy on the table. + +"There--there's another of them!" she cried, rage choked her voice for a +moment. + +Andrew was stunned. Despair seemed to have frozen him all at once into a +statue. He mechanically took up the packet, and, opening it, he read the +cold, polite, brief note, which told of the rejection of his play both +by theatres and publishers. + +"Idiot--fool--scribbling fool!" + +The unfortunate poet's mother sank into a chair, as if unable to support +the force of her anger. + +"Fool!--scribbling madman! will ye never give over?" + +Andrew made no answer; but every one of his mother's furious words sank +into his brain, adding to the force of his unutterable misery. + +"Will ye go now, and take to some other trade, will ye?--will ye, I +say?" + +Andrew's lips moved for a moment, but no sound came from them. + +"Will ye go out, and make money, I say, at some sensible work? Make +money for me, will you? I'll force you out to make money at some work by +which there's money to be made; not the like of that idiot writing of +yours, curse it. Answer me, and tell me you'll go out and work for money +now?" + +She seized his arm, and shook it violently; but still he made no +response. + +"You will not speak. Listen, then--listen to me, I say; I'll tell it all +now; you'll hear what you never heard before. I did not tell you before, +because I pitied you--because I thought you would work for me, and earn +money; but you will not promise it. Now, then, listen. You are the very +child of money--brought into existence by the influence of money; you +would never have been in being had it not been for money. I always told +you I was married to your father; I told you a falsehood--he bound me to +him by the ties of money only." + +A violent shudder passed over Andrew's frame at this intelligence, but +still he said nothing. + +"You shall hear it all--I shall tell you particularly the whole story. +It was not for nothing you were always afraid of being called a bastard. +It's an ugly word, but it belongs to you--ay, ay, ye always trembled at +that word, since ye were able to go and play among the children in the +street. They called ye that seven years ago--ten years ago, when we came +here first, and you used to come crying to me, for you could not bear +it, you said. I denied it then--I told you I was married to your father; +I told you a lie: I told you that, because I thought you would grow up +and work for me, and get me money. You won't do it; you will only +write--write all day and all night, too, though I've begged you to quit +it. You have me here starving. What signifies the beggarly annuity your +father left to me, and you, his child? It's all spent long before it +comes, and here we are with nothing, not a crust, in the house, and it's +two months till next paying time. + +"Listen--I'll tell you the whole story of your birth; maybe that will +put you from writing for a while, if you have the spirit you used to +have when they told you what you were." + +She shook his arm again, without receiving any answer; his head had +fallen on his hands, and he remained fixed in one position. His mother's +eyes glared on him with a look in which madness was visible, together +with a tigress-like expression of ferocity which rarely appears on the +face of a mother, or of any human being, where insanity does not exist. +When she spoke, however, her words were collected, and her manner was +impressive and even dignified; the look of maniac anger gradually wore +away from her face, and in every sentence she uttered there were proofs +that something of power had naturally existed in her fallen and clouded +mind. + +"Want of money was the earliest thing I remember to feel," she said, as +she seated herself, with something more of composure in her manner. +"There was never any money in my father's house. I wondered at first +where it could all go; I watched and reflected, and used all means of +finding out the mystery. At last I knew it--my father drank; in the +privacy of his room, when no eye was on him, he drank, drank. He paid +strict enough attention to my education. I read with him much; he had +stores of books. I read the Bible with him, too; often he spent long +evenings expounding it to me. But I saw the hollowness of it all--he +hardly believed himself; he doubted--doubted all, while he would fain +have made me a believer. I saw it well: I heard him rave of it in a +fever into which drink had thrown him. All was dark to him, he said, +when he was near dying; but he had taught his child to believe; he had +done his best to make her believe. He did not know my heart; I was his +own child; I longed for sensual things; my heart burned with a wish for +money, but it all went for drink. Had I but been able then to procure +food and clothes as others of my rank did, the burning wish for money +that consumed my heart then and now might never have been kindled, and I +might have been rich as those often become who have never wished for +riches. Yes, the eagerness of my wishes has always driven money far away +from me; that cursed gold and silver, it flows on them who have never +worshiped it--never longed for it till their brain turned; and it will +not come to such as me, whose whole life has been a desire for it. Well, +my father died, and I was left without a penny; all the furniture went +to pay the spirit-merchant. I went to Ireland; I lived with relations +who were poor and ignorant: I heard the cry of want of money there too. +A father and mother and seven children, and me, the penniless orphan: we +all wanted money--all cried for it. At last my cry was answered in a +black way; I saw the sight of money at last; a purse heaped, overflowing +with money, was put into my hands. My brain got giddy at the sight; sin +and virtue became all one to me at the sight. Gold, gold! my father +would hardly ever give me one poor shilling; the people with whom I +lived hardly ever had a shilling among them. I became the mistress of a +rich man--a married man; his wife and children were living there before +my eyes--a profligate man; his sins were the talk of the countryside. I +hated him; he was old, deformed, revolting; but he chained me to him by +money. Then I enjoyed money for a while; I kept that purse in my hand; I +laid it down so as my eyes would rest on it perpetually. I dressed; I +squandered sum after sum; the rich man who kept me had many other +expenses: his money became scantier; we quarreled; another offered me +more money--I went to him." + +A deep groan shook the whole frame of the unfortunate young poet at this +statement--a groan which in its intensity might have separated soul and +body. + +"Let me go--let me go!" he cried, raising himself for a moment, and then +sinking back again in his chair in a passive state. + +His mother seemed a little softened by his agitation, though she made no +comment on it, but continued her narrative as if no interruption had +taken place. + +"Money took me to a new master; he was richer than the first; he bound +my heart to him by the profusion of his money. He was old and withered, +but his gold and silver reflected so brightly on his face, I came to +think him handsome; he was your father; you were born; after your birth +I think I even loved him. I urged him to marry me; he listened; he even +promised--yes, marriage and money--money--they were almost in my very +grasp. I was sure--sure--when he went to England to arrange some +business, he said; he wrote fondly for a while; I lived in an elysium; +money and an honorable marriage were my own. I had not one doubt; but he +ceased to write to me--all at once he ceased; had it been a gradual +drawing off, my brain would not have reeled as it did. At last, when +fear and anxiety had almost thrown me into a fever, a letter came. It +announced in a few words that your father was married to a young, +virtuous, and wealthy lady; he had settled a small annuity on me for +life, and never wished to see or hear from me again. A violent illness +seized me then; it was a kind of burning fever. All things around me +seemed to dazzle, and assume the form of gold and silver; I struggled +and writhed to grasp the illusion; they were forced to tie my hands--to +bind me down in my bed. I recovered at last, but I had grown all at once +old, withered, stricken in mind and body by that sickness. For a long +time--for years--I lived as if in a lingering dream; I had no keen +perceptions of life; my wishes had little energy; my thoughts were +confused and wandering; even the love of money and the want of money +failed to stir me into any kind of action. I have something of the same +kind of feeling still," she said, raising her hand to her head. "The +burning fever into which I was thrown when your father's love vanished +from me, is often here even yet, though its duration is brief; but it is +sufficient to make me incapable of any exertion by which I could make +money. I have trusted to you; I have hoped that you might be the means +of raising me from my poverty; I have long hoped to see the gold and +silver of your earning. I did not say much at first, when I saw you +turning a poet; I had heard that poetry was the sure high-road to +poverty, but I said little then. I was hardly able to judge and know +rightly what you should do when you commenced writing in your boyhood; +but my head is a little cooler now; the scorching fire of the money your +father tempted me with, and then withdrew, is quenched a little by +years. Now at last I see that you are wasting your time and health with +that pen; you have not made one shilling--one single sixpence for me, +yet, with that pen of yours; your health is going fast; I see the color +of the grave on your thin cheeks. Now I command you to throw away your +pen, and make money for me at any trade, no matter how low or mean." + +As she spoke, there was a look approaching to dignity in her wasted +face, and her tones were clear and commanding--the vulgar Irishism and +Scoticism of dialect which, on common occasions, disfigured her +conversation, had disappeared, and it was evident that her intellect had +at one period been cultivated, and superior to the ordinary class of +minds. + +Andrew rose without saying one syllable in answer to his mother's +communication; he threw his manuscripts and the sheets which he had +written into a desk; he locked it with a nervous, trembling hand, and +then turned to leave the room. His face was of the most ghastly +paleness; his eyes were calm and fixed; he seemed sick at heart by the +disclosure he had heard; his lips trembled and shook with agitation. + +"Where are you going, Andrew? It's a bitter night." + +"Mother, it is good enough for me--for a--" + +He could not speak the hated word which rose to his lips; he had an +early horror of that word; he had dreaded that his was a dishonorable +birth: even in his boyish days he had feared it; his mother had often +asserted to the contrary, but now she had dispelled the belief in which +he had rested. + +He opened the door hastily, and passed out into the storm, which was +rushing against the windows. + +A feeling of pity for him--a feeling of a mother's affection and +solicitude, was stirred in Mrs. Carson's soul, as she listened to his +departing footsteps, and then went and seated herself beside the embers +of a dying fire in the kitchen; it was a small, cold, +miserably-furnished kitchen; the desolation of the severe season met no +counterbalancing power there; no cheering appearances of food, or fire, +or any comforts were there. But the complaining spirit which cried and +sighed perpetually was for once silent within Mrs. Carson's mind; +something--perhaps the death-like aspect of her son, or a voice from her +long stifled conscience--was telling her how ill she had fulfilled the +duties of a mother. She felt remorse for the reproaches she had heaped +on him before he had gone out in the storm. + +She waited to hear his knock at the door; she longed for his returning +steps; she felt that she would receive him with more of kindness than +she had for a length of time displayed to him; she kept picturing to +herself perpetually his thin face and emaciated figure, and a fear of +his early death seized on her for the first time; she had been so +engrossed by her own selfish wants, that she had scarcely remarked the +failing health of her son. She started with horror at the probabilities +which her naturally powerful fancy suggested. She resolved to call in +medical aid immediately, for she was sure now that Andrew's constitution +was sinking fast. But how would she pay for medical aid? she had not one +farthing to procure advice. At this thought the yearning, burning desire +for money which had so long made a part of her existence came back with +full force; she sat revolving scheme after scheme, plan after plan, of +how she could procure it. Hours passed away, but still she sat alone, +silently cowering over the cinders of the fire. + +At length she started up, fully awake, to a sense of wonder and dread at +Andrew's long absence. She heard the sound of distant clocks striking +twelve. It was unusual for Andrew to be out so late, for he had +uniformly kept himself aloof from evil companions. The high poetical +spirit within him, a spirit which utterly engrossed him, had kept him +from the haunts of vice. His mother went to the door, and opening it, +gazed on the narrow, mean street. The storm had passed away; the street +was white with hail and snow; the moon shone clearly down between the +tall but dilapidated houses of which the street or lane was composed; +various riotous-looking people were passing by; and from a neighboring +house the brisk strains of a violin came, together with the sound of +voices and laughter. The house had a bad repute in the neighborhood, but +Mrs. Carson never for an instant suspected her son was there. She looked +anxiously along the street, and at every passing form she gazed +earnestly, but none resembled her son. + +For a long time she stood waiting and watching for the appearance of +Andrew, but he did not come. At last, sinking with cold and weariness, +and with a host of phantom fears rising up in her bewildered brain, and +almost dragging her mind down into the gulf of utter madness, on the +brink of which she had so long been, Mrs. Carson returned to the +kitchen. As she looked on the last ember dying out on the hearth, a +feeling of frenzy shook her frame. Andrew would soon return, shivering +with cold, and she had no fire to warm him--no money to purchase fire. +She thought of the wealthy--of their bright fires--and bitter envy and +longing for riches gnawed her very heart and life. A broken deal chair +was in a corner of the kitchen; she seized it, and after some efforts +succeeded in wrenching off a piece, which she placed on the dying ember, +and busied herself for some time in fanning; then she gathered every +remaining fragment of coals from the recess at one side of the +fire-place, in which they were usually kept, and with the pains and +patience which poverty so sorely teaches, she employed herself in making +some appearance of a fire. Had she been in her usual mood, she would +have sat anathematizing her son for his absence at such an hour; but now +every moment, as she sat awaiting his return, her heart became more +kindly disposed toward him, and an uneasy feeling of remorse for her +past life was each instant gaining strength amidst the variety of +strange spectral thoughts and fancies which flitted through her diseased +mind. At some moments she fancied she saw her father seated opposite to +her on the hearth, and heard him reading from the Bible, as he did so +often in her girlish days: then again he was away in the privacy of his +own room, and she was watching him through a crevice of the door, and +she saw him open the cabinet he kept there, and take out liquor, ardent +spirits, and he drank long and deep draughts, until gradually he sank +down on his bed in the silent, moveless state of intoxication which had +so long imposed on her, for she had once believed that her father was +subject to fits of a peculiar kind. She groaned and shuddered as this +vision was impressed on her; she saw the spirit of evil which had +destroyed her father attaching itself next to her own fate, and leading +her into the depths of guilt, and she trembled for her son. Had he now +fallen in sin? was some evil action detaining him to such an hour? He +was naturally inclined to good, she knew--strangely good and pure had +his life been, considering he was her child, and reared so carelessly as +she had reared him; but now he had been urged to despair by her endless +cry for money, and, perhaps, he was at that very instant engaged in some +robbery, by which he would be able to bring money to his mother. + +So completely enslaved had her mind become to a lust for money, that the +thought of his gaining wealth by any means was for some time delightful +to her; she looked on their great poverty, and she felt, in her darkened +judgment, that they had something of a right to take forcibly a portion +of the superabundant money of the rich. Her eyes glared with eagerness +for the sight of her son returning with money, even though that money +was stolen; the habitual mood of her mind prevailed rapidly over the +impressions of returning goodness and affection which for a brief period +had awoke within her. + +In the midst of the return of her overwhelming desire for money, +Andrew's knock came to the door. The eager inquiry whether he had +brought any money with him was bursting from her lips the moment she +opened the door and beheld him, but she was cheeked by the sight of two +strangers who accompanied him. Andrew bade the men follow him, and +walked rapidly to the kitchen; the tones of his voice were so changed +and hollow that his mother hardly recognized him to be her son. + +He requested the men to be seated, telling them that when the noise on +the street would be quiet and the people dispersed they would get that +for which they had come. At that moment a drunken broil on the street +had drawn some watchmen to the neighborhood. + +He bade his mother follow him, and proceeded hastily to his own room. By +the aid of a match he lighted the miserable candle by which, some hours +previously, he had been writing. + +"Mother, here is money--gold--here--your hand." He pressed some gold +coins into her hand. "Gold! ay, gold, gold, indeed!" gasped his mother, +the intensity of her joy repressing for the instant all extravagant +demonstrations of it. + +"Go, go away to the kitchen; in about five or ten minutes let the men +come here, and they will get what I have sold them." + +"Money! money at last; gold--gold!" cried his mother, altogether +unconscious of what her son was saving, and only awake to the blessed +sense of having at last obtained money. + +"Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose." + +"Money! blessings, blessings on you and God--money!" She seemed still in +ignorance of Andrew's request that she would withdraw. + +"Away, I say, I must be alone; away to the kitchen, and leave me alone; +but let the men come here in a few minutes and take what they have +purchased." + +He spoke with a strange energy. She obeyed him at last, and left the +room: she remembered afterward that his face was like that of a dead man +when he addressed her. + +She returned to the kitchen. The two men were seated where she had left +them, and were conversing together: their strong Irish accent told at +once their country. Mrs. Carson paid no attention to them; she neither +spoke to them nor looked at them; she held tightly clasped in her hand +the few gold coins her son had given her; she walked about like one half +distracted, addressing audible thanksgiving to God one instant, and the +next felicitating herself in an insane manner on having at last obtained +some money. The two men commented on her strange manners, and agreed +that she was mad, stating their opinions aloud to each other, but she +did not hear them. + +The noise and quarreling on the street continued for some time, and the +men manifested no impatience while it lasted. All became quiet after a +time; the desertion and silence of night seemed at last to have settled +down on the street. The two men then manifested a strong wish to finish +the business on which they had come. + +"I say, whereabouts is it--where's the snatch, my good woman?" said one +of the men, addressing Mrs. Carson. + +She looked on him and his companion with amazement mingled with +something of fear, for the aspects of both were expressive of low +ruffianism. + +"She's mad, don't you see," said the one who had not addressed her. + +The other cursed deeply, saying that as they had given part payment, +they would get their errand, or their money back again. + +At this, a gleam of recollection crossed Mrs. Carson's mind, and she +informed them that her son had mentioned about something they had +purchased, which was in his room. She thought at the instant, that +perhaps he had disposed of one of his manuscripts at last, though she +wondered at the appearance of the purchasers of such an article. + +"That's it," cried the men; "show us the way to the room fast; it's all +quiet now." + +Anxious to get rid of the men, Mrs. Carson proceeded hastily to her +son's room, followed closely by the men. The first object she saw, on +opening the door, was Andrew, leaning on his desk; the little desk stood +on the table, and Andrew's head and breast were lying on it, as if he +was asleep. There was something in his fixed attitude which struck an +unpleasant feeling to his mother's heart. + +"Andrew!" she said; "Andrew, the men are here." + +All was silent. No murmur of sleep or life came from Andrew. His mother +ran to his side, and grasped his arm: there was no sound, no motion. She +raised his head with one hand, while at the same time she glanced at an +open letter, on which a few lines were scrawled in a large, hurried +hand. Every word and letter seemed to dilate before her eyes, as in a +brief instant of time she read the following: + +"Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for +dissection; the money I gave you is part of the price. You have +upbraided me for never making money: I have sold all I possess--my +body--and given you money. You have told me of the stain on my birth; I +can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in this world +would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I +can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes, +yes, from the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice, +saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds. +Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace +of Andrew Carson vanish from your earth." + +With a lightning rapidity Mrs. Carson scanned each word; and not until +she had read it all, did a scream of prolonged and utter agony, such as +is rarely heard even in this world of grief burst from her lips; and +with a gesture of frenzied violence she flung the money she had kept +closely grasped in her hand at the men. One of them stooped to gather it +up, and the other ran toward Andrew, and raised his inanimate body a +little from its recumbent position. He was quite dead, however; a +bottle, marked "Prussic Acid," was in his hand. The two men, having +recovered the money, hurried away, telling Mrs. Carson they would send +immediate medical aid, to see if any thing could be done for the +unfortunate young man. Mrs. Carson did not hear them; a frenzied +paroxysm seized her, and she lay on the floor screaming in the wild +tones of madness, and utterly incapable of any exertion. She saw the +money she had received with such rapture carried away from before her +eyes, but she felt nothing: money had become terrible to her at last. + +Her cries attracted a watchman from the street. A doctor was soon on the +spot; but Andrew Carson was no more connected with flesh, and blood, and +human life; he was away beyond recall, in the spirit-world. + +An inquest was held on the body, and a verdict of temporary insanity +returned, as is usual in such cases of suicide. The young poet was +buried, and soon forgotten. + +Mrs. Carson lingered for some weeks; her disease assumed something of +the form of violent brain-fever; in her ravings she fancied perpetually +that she was immersed in streams of fluid burning gold and silver. They +were forcing her to drink draughts of that scorching gold, she would +cry; all was burning gold and silver: all drink, all food, all air, and +light, and space around her. At the very last she recovered her senses +partially, and calling, with a feeble but calm voice, on her only +beloved child, Andrew, she died. + + + + +[Illustration: Neander in the Lecture Room.] + +NEANDER. + + +Germany has just lost one of her greatest Protestant theologians, +AUGUSTUS NEANDER. He was born at Göttingen, Jan. 16, 1789, and died at +Berlin, July 13, 1850, in his sixty-second year. He was of Jewish +descent, as his strongly-marked features sufficiently evidence; but at +the age of seventeen he embraced the Christian religion, to the defense +of which his labors, and to the exemplification of which his life, were +thenceforth devoted. Having studied theology at Halle, under +Schleiermacher, he was appointed private lecturer at Heidelberg in 1811, +and in the following year the first Professor of Theology at the Royal +University of Berlin, which post he held to the time of his death, a +period of thirty-eight years. Deservedly high as is his reputation +abroad, it is still higher in his own country, where he was known not +only as an author, but as a teacher, a preacher, and a man. The +following is a list of his published works: The Emperor Julian and his +Times, 1812; Bernard and his Times, 1813; Genetical Development of the +Principal Gnostic Systems, 1818; Chrysostom and the Church in his Times, +1820 and 1832; Memorabilia from the History of Christianity and the +Christian Life, 1822 and 1845-46; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +exegetical and historical, 1829; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +biographical, 1840; The Principle of the Reformation, or, Staupitz and +Luther, 1840; History of the Planting and Training of the Christian +Church, 4th ed., 1847; The Life of Jesus Christ in its Historical +Connection and Historical Development, 4th ed., 1845; General History of +the Christian Religion and Church, 1842-47. Neander is best known to +readers of English by the last two works, both of which have been made +accessible to them by American scholars. + +The Life of Christ was undertaken to counteract the impression made by +STRAUSS'S "Life of Christ," in which the attempt was made to apply the +mythical theory to the entire structure of evangelical history. +According to Strauss, the sum of the historical truth contained in the +narratives of the evangelists is, that Jesus lived and taught in Judea, +where he gathered disciples who believed that he was the Messiah. +According to their preconceived notions, the life of the Messiah, and +the period in which he lived, were to be illustrated by signs and +wonders. Messianic legends existed ready-made, in the hopes and +expectations of the people, only needing to be transferred to the person +and character of Jesus. The appearance of this work produced a great +sensation in Germany. It was believed by many that the book should be +prohibited; and the Prussian government was inclined to this measure. +Neander, however, advised that the book should rather be met by +argument. His Life of Christ which was thus occasioned, wears, in +consequence, a somewhat polemical aspect. It has taken the rank of a +standard authority, both in German and in English, into which it has +been admirably translated by Professors M'CLINTOCK and BLUMENTHAL. + +The great work of Neander's life, and of which his various writings in +the departments of Ecclesiastical History, Biography, Patristics, and +Dogmatics are subsidiary, is the General History of the Christian +Religion and Church. The first part of this, containing the history of +the first three centuries, was published in 1825, and, improved and +enlarged, in 1842--43. The second part, which brings the history down to +the close of the sixth century, appeared originally in 1828, and in a +second edition in 1846--47. These two parts, comprising four volumes of +the German edition, are well known to English readers through the +excellent version of Professor TORREY. This is a history of the inner +development of Christian doctrines and opinions rather than of the +external progress of the Church, and in connection with GIESELER'S +Text-Book, furnishes by far the best apparatus for the study of +ecclesiastical history now extant. + +A correspondent of the _Boston Traveler_, writing under date of Berlin, +July 22, gives the following graphic sketch of the personal +characteristics of Neander: + +"NEANDER is no more! He who for thirty-eight years has defeated the +attacks upon the church from the side of rationalism and +philosophy--who, through all the controversies among theologians in +Germany, has remained true to the faith of his adoption, the pure and +holy religion of Jesus Christ--Neander, the philosopher, the +scholar--better, the great and good man--has been taken from the world. + +"He was never married, but lived with his maiden sister. Often have I +seen the two walking arm in arm upon the streets and in the parks of the +city. Neander's habit of abstraction and short-sightedness rendered it +necessary for him to have some one to guide the way whenever he left his +study for a walk or to go to his lecture room. Generally, a student +walked with him to the University, and just before it was time for his +lecture to close, his sister could be seen walking up and down on the +opposite side of the street, waiting to accompany him home. + +"Many anecdotes are related of him illustrative of his absence of mind, +such as his appearing in the lecture room half dressed--if left alone, +always going to his old residence, after he had removed to another part +of the city--walking in the gutter, &c, &c. In the lecture room, his +manner was in the highest degree peculiar. He put his left arm over the +desk, clasping the book in his hand, and after bringing his face close +to the corner of his desk, effectually concealed it by holding his notes +close to his nose. + +"In one hand was always a quill, which, during the lecture, he kept +constantly twirling about and crushing. He pushed the desk forward upon +two legs, swinging it back and forth, and every few minutes would plunge +forward almost spasmodically, throwing one foot back in a way leading +you to expect that he would the next moment precipitate himself headlong +down upon the desks of the students. Twirling his pen, occasional +spitting, jerking his foot backward, taken with his dress, gave him a +most eccentric appearance in the lecture room. Meeting him upon the +street, with his sister, you never would have suspected that such a +strange looking being could be Neander. He formerly had two sisters, but +a few years ago the favorite one died. It was a trying affliction, and +for a short interval he was quite overcome, but suddenly he dried his +tears, calmly declared his firm faith and reliance in the wise purpose +of God in taking her to himself, and resumed his lectures immediately as +if nothing had over taken him to disturb his serenity. + +"Neander's charity was unbounded. Poor students were not only presented +with tickets to his lectures, but were also often provided by him with +money and clothing. Not a farthing of the money received for his +lectures ever went to supply his own wants; it was all given away for +benevolent purposes. The income from his writings was bestowed upon the +Missionary, Bible, and other societies, and upon hospitals. Thoughts of +himself never seemed to have obtruded upon his mind. He would sometimes +give away to a poor student all the money he had about him at the moment +the request was made of him, even his new coat, retaining the old one +for himself. You have known this great man in your country more on +account of his learning, from his books, than in any other way; but +here, where he has lived, one finds that his private character, his +piety, his charity, have distinguished him above all others. + +"It would be difficult to decide whether the influence of his example +has not been as great as that of his writings upon the thousands of +young men who have been his pupils. Protestants, Catholics, nearly all +the leading preachers throughout Germany, have attended his lectures, +and all have been more or less guided by him. While philosophy has been +for years attempting to usurp the place of religion, Neander has been +the chief instrument in combating it, and in keeping the true faith +constantly before the students. + +"He was better acquainted with Church History and the writings of the +Fathers than any one of his time. It has been the custom upon the +recurrence of his birth-day, for the students to present to him a rare +edition of one of the Fathers, and thus he has come to have one of the +most complete sets of their writings to be found in any library. Turning +from his great literary attainments, from all considerations suggested +by his profound learning, it is pleasant to contemplate the pure +Christian character of the man. Although born a Jew, his whole life +seemed to be a sermon upon the text, 'That disciple whom Jesus loved +said unto Peter, _It is the Lord!'_ Neander's life resembled more 'that +disciple's' than any other. He was the loving John, the new Church +Father of our times. + +"His sickness was only of a few days' duration. On Monday he held his +lecture as usual. The next day he was seized with a species of cholera. +A day or two of pain was followed by a lucid interval, when the +physicians were encouraged to hope for his recovery. During this +interval he dictated a page in his Church History, and then said to his +sister--'I am weary--let us go home.' He had no time to die. He needed +no further preparation; his whole life had been the best preparation, +and up to the last moment we see him active in his master's service. The +disease returned with redoubled force; a day or two more of suffering, +and on Sunday, less than a week from the day of attack, he was dead. + +"On the 17th of July I attended the funeral services. The procession of +students was formed at the university, and marched to his dwelling. In +the meantime, in the house, the theological students, the professors +from Berlin, and from the University of Halle, the clergy, relatives, +high officers of government, etc., were assembled to hear the funeral +discourse. Professor Strauss, for forty-five years an intimate friend of +Neander, delivered a sermon. During the exercises, the body, not yet +placed in the coffin, was covered with wreaths and flowers, and +surrounded with burning candles. + +"The procession was of great length, was formed at 10 A.M. and moved +through Unter den Linden as far as Frederick-street, and then the whole +length of Frederick-street as far as the Elizabeth-street Cemetery. The +whole distance, nearly two miles, the sides of the streets, doors and +windows of the houses were filled with an immense concourse of people +who had come to look upon the solemn scene. The hearse was surrounded +with students, some of them from Halle, carrying lighted candles, and in +advance was borne the Bible and Greek Testament which had ever been used +by the deceased. + +"At the grave, a choir of young men sang appropriate music, and a +student from Halle made an affecting address. It was a solemn sight to +see the tears gushing from the eyes of those who had been the pupils and +friends of Neander. Many were deeply moved, and well might they join +with the world in mourning for one who had done more than any one to +keep pure the religion of Christ here in Germany. + +"After the benediction was pronounced, every one present, according to +the beautiful custom here, went to the grave and threw into it a handful +of dirt, thus assisting at the burial. Slowly, and in scattered groups +the crowd dispersed to their various homes. + +"How insignificant all the metaphysical controversies of the age, the +vain teachings of man, appeared to us as we stood at the grave-side of +Neander. His was a far higher and holier faith, from which, like the +Evangelist, he never wavered. In his life, in his death, the belief to +which he had been converted, his watchword remained unchanged: 'It is +the Lord!' His body has been consigned to the grave, but the sunset +glory of his example still illumines our sky, and will forever light us +onward to the path he trod." + + + + +THE DISASTERS OF A MAN WHO WOULDN'T TRUST HIS WIFE. + +A TALE OF A TAILOR. + +BY WM. HOWITT. + + +There are a multitude of places in this wide world, that we never heard +of since the day of creation, and that never would become known to a +soul beyond their own ten miles of circumference, except to those +universal discoverers, the tax-gatherers, were it not that some sparks +of genius may suddenly kindle there, and carry their fame through all +countries and all generations. This has been the case many times, and +will be the case again. We are now destined to hear the sound of names +that our fathers never dreamed of; and there are other spots, now +basking in God's blessed sunshine, of which the world knows and cares +nothing, that shall, to our children, become places of worship, and +pilgrimage. Something of this sort of glory was cast upon the little +town of Rapps, in Bohemia, by the hero whose name stands conspicuously +in this article, and whose pleasant adventures I flatter myself that I +am destined to diffuse still further. HANS NADELTREIBER was the son of +Mr. Strauss Nadeltreiber, who had, as well as his ancestors before him, +for six generations, practiced, in the same little place, that most +gentlemanly of all professions, a tailor--seeing that it was before all +others, and was used and sanctioned by our father Adam. + +Now Hans, from boyhood up, was a remarkable person. His father had known +his share of troubles, and having two sons, both older than Hans, +naturally looked in his old age to reap some comfort and assistance from +their united labors. But the two elder sons successively had fled from +the shop-board. One had gone for a soldier, and was shot; the other had +learned the craft of a weaver, but being too fond of his pot, had +broken his neck by falling into a quarry, as he went home one night from +a carousal. Hans was left the sole staff for the old man to lean upon; +and truly a worthy son he proved himself. He was as gentle as a dove, +and as tender as a lamb. A cross word from his father, when he had made +a cross stitch, would almost break his heart; but half a word of +kindness revived him again--and he seldom went long without it; for the +old man, though rendered rather testy and crabbed in his temper, by his +many troubles and disappointments, was naturally of a loving, +compassionate disposition, and, moreover, regarded Hans as the apple of +his eye. + +Hans was of a remarkably light, slender, active make, full of life and +mettle. This moment he was on the board, stitching away with as much +velocity as if he were working for a funeral or a wedding, at an hour's +notice; the next, he was dispatching his dinner at the same rate; and +the third beheld him running, leaping, and playing, among his +companions, as blithe as a young kid. If he had a fault, it was being +too fond of his fiddle. This was his everlasting delight. One would have +thought that his elbow had labor enough, with jerking his needle some +thirty thousand times a day; but it was in him a sort of universal +joint--it never seemed to know what weariness was. His fiddle stood +always on the board in a corner by him, and no sooner had he ceased to +brandish his needle, than he began to brandish his fiddlestick. If ever +he could be said to be lazy, it was when his father was gone out to +measure, or try on; and his fiddle being too strong a temptation for +him, he would seize upon it, and labor at it with all his might, till he +spied his father turning his next corner homeward. Nevertheless, with +this trifling exception, he was a pattern of filial duty; and now the +time was come that his father must die--his mother was dead long before; +and he was left alone in the world with his riddle. The whole house, +board, trade--what there was of it--all was his. When he came to take +stock, and make an inventory--in his head--of what he was worth, it was +by no means such as to endanger his entrance into heaven at the proper +time. Naturally enough, he thought of the Scripture simile of the rich +man, and the camel getting through the eye of a needle; but it did not +frighten him. His father never had much beforehand, when he had the +whole place to himself; and now, behold! another knight of the steel-bar +had come from--nobody knew where--a place often talked of, yet still a +_terra incognita_; had taken a great house opposite, hoisted a +tremendous sign, and threatened to carry away every shred of Hans's +business. + +In the depth of his trouble, he took to his fiddle, from his fiddle to +his bed, and in his bed he had a dream--I thought we had done with these +dreams!--in which he was assured, that could he once save the sum of +fifty dollars, it would be the seed of a fortune; that he should +flourish far beyond the scale of old Strauss; should drive his +antagonist, in utter despair, from the ground; and should, in short, +arrive eventually at no less a dignity than--Bürgermeister of Rapps! + +Hans was, as I believe I have said, soon set up with the smallest spice +of encouragement. He was, moreover, as light and nimble as a +grasshopper, and, in his whole appearance, much such an animal, could it +be made to stand on end. His dream, therefore, was enough. He vowed a +vow of unconquerable might, and to it he went. Springing upon his board, +he hummed a tune gayly: + + There came the Hippopotamus, + A sort of river-bottom-horse, + Sneezing, snorting, blowing water + From his nostrils, and around him + Grazing up the grass--confound him! + Every mouthful a huge slaughter! + + Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly, + From his muzzle must away fly, + Or he swallowed them by legions, + His huge foot, it was a pillar; + When he drank, it was a swiller! + Soon a desert were those regions. + + But the grasshoppers so gallant + Called to arms each nimble callant, + With their wings, and stings, and nippers, + Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful; + Gave the villain such a jawful, + That he slipped away in slippers! + +"Ha! ha!--slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!" cried Hans, +and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did +him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of +it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was +done. He wanted little--a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough +for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when, +returning one evening from carrying out some work--behold! his door was +open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was +off! The money was gone! + +This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even +fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite--the +Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans's +door? But no matter--the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he +got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. "Ay," said +they, "this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by +yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man +like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like a miser? It is a +shame!--it is a sin!--it is a judgment! Nothing better could come of it. +At all events, you might afford to have a light burning in the house. +People are ever likely to rob you. They see a house as dark as an oven; +they see nobody in it; they go in and steal; nobody can see them come +out--and that is just it. But were there a light burning, they would +always think there was somebody in. At all events, you might have a +light." + +"There is something in that," said Hans. He was not at all unreasonable: +so he determined to have a light in future: and he fell to work again. + +Bad as his luck had been, he resolved not to be cast down: he was as +diligent and as thrifty as ever; and he resolved, when he became +Bürgermeister of Rapps, to be especially severe on sneaking thieves, who +crept into houses that were left to the care of Providence and the +municipal authorities. A light was everlastingly burning in his window; +and the people, as they passed in the morning, said, "This man must have +a good business that requires him to be up thus early;" and they who +passed in the evening, said, "This man must be making a fortune, for he +is busy early and late." At length Hans leaped down from his board with +the work that was to complete his sum, a second time; went; returned, +with the future Bürgermeister growing rapidly upon him; when, as he +turned the corner of the street--men and mercies!--what a spectacle! His +house was in a full burst of flame, illuminating, with a ruddy glow, +half the town, and all the faces of the inhabitants, who were collected +to witness the catastrophe. Money, fiddle, shop-board--all were +consumed! and when poor Hans danced and capered, in the very ecstasy of +his distraction--"Ay," said his neighbors, "this comes of leaving a +light in an empty house. It was just the thing to happen. Why don't you +get somebody to take care of things in your absence?" + +Hans stood corrected; for, as I have said, he was soon touched to the +quick, and though in his anger he did think it rather unkind that they, +who advised the light, now prophesied after the event; when that was a +little abated, he thought there was reason in what they now said. So, +bating not a jot of his determination to save, and to be Bürgermeister +of Rapps, he took the very next house, which luckily happened to be at +liberty, and he got a journeyman. For a long time, his case appeared +hard and hopeless. He had to pay three hundred per cent, for the piece +of a table, two stools, and a couple of hags of hay, which he had +procured of a Jew, and which, with an odd pot, and a wooden spoon or +two, constituted all his furniture. Then, he had two mouths to feed +instead of one wages to pay; and not much more work done than he could +manage himself. But still--he had dreamed; and dreams, if they are +genuine, fulfill themselves. The money grew--slowly, very slowly, but +still it grew; and Hans pitched upon a secure place, as he thought, to +conceal it in. Alas! poor Hans! He had often in his heart grumbled at +the slowness of his _Handwerks-Bursch_, or journeyman; but the fellow's +eyes had been quick enough, and he proved himself a hand-work's fellow +to some purpose, by clearing out Hans's hiding-place, and becoming a +journeyman in earnest. The fellow was gone one morning; no great +loss--but then the money was gone with him, which _was_ a terrible +loss. + +This was more than Hans could bear. He was perfectly cast down, +disheartened, and inconsolable. At first, he thought of running after +the fellow; and, as he knew the scamp could not go far without a +passport, and as Hans had gone the round of the country himself, in the +three years of his _Wandel-Jahre_, as required by the worshipful guild +of tailors, he did not doubt but that he should some day pounce upon the +scoundrel. But then, in the mean time, who was to keep his trade +together? There was the Hippopotamus watching opposite! No! it would not +do! and his neighbor, coming in to condole with him, said--"Cheer up, +man! there is nothing amiss yet. What signify a few dollars? You will +soon get plenty more, with those nimble fingers of yours. You want only +somebody to help you to keep them. You must get a wife! Journeymen were +thieves from the first generation. You must get married!" + +"Get married!" thought Hans. He was struck all on a heap at the very +mention of it "Get married! What! fine clothes to go a-wooing in, and +fine presents to go a-wooing with; and parson's fees, and clerk's fees; +and wedding-dinner, and dancing, and drinking; and then, doctor's fees, +and nurse's fees, and children without end! That is ruin!" thought +Hans--"without end!" The fifty dollars and the Bürgermeistership--they +might wait till doomsday. + +"Well, that is good!" thought Hans, as he took a little more breath. +"They first counseled me to get a light--then went house and all in a +bonfire; next, I must get a journeyman--then went the money; and now +they would have me bring more plagues upon me than Moses brought upon +Egypt. Nay, nay!" thought Hans; "you'll not catch me there, neither." + +Hans all this time was seated upon his shop-board, stitching, at an +amazing rate, upon a garment which the rascally Wagner should have +finished to order at six o'clock that morning, instead of decamping with +his money; and, ever and anon, so far forgetting his loss in what +appeared to him the ludicrousness of this advice, as freely to laugh +out. All that day, the idea continued to run in his head; the next, it +had lost much of its freshness; the third, it appeared not so odd as +awful; the fourth, he began to ask himself whether it might be quite so +momentous as his imagination had painted it; the fifth, he really +thought it was not so bad neither; the sixth, it had so worked round in +his head, that it had fairly got on the other side, and appeared clearly +to have its advantages--children did not come scampering into the world +all at once, like a flock of lambs into a meadow--a wife might help to +gather, as well as spend--might possibly bring something of her own--ay! +a new idea!--would be a perpetual watch and storekeeper in his +absence--might speak a word of comfort, in trouble when even his fiddle +was dumb; on the seventh--he was off! Whither? + +Why, it so happened that in his "wander-years," Hans had played his +fiddle at many a dance--a very dangerous position; for his chin resting +on "the merry bit of wood," as the ancient Friend termed that +instrument, and his head leaned on one side, he had had plenty of +opportunity to watch the movements of plenty of fair maids in the dance, +as well as occasionally to whirl them round in the everlasting waltz +himself. Accordingly, Hans had left his heart many times, for a week or +ten days or so, behind him, in many a town and dorf of Bohemia and +Germany; but it always came after him and overtook him again, except on +one occasion. Among the damsels of the Böhmer-Wald who had danced to the +sound of his fiddle, there was a certain substantial bergman's or +master-miner's daughter, who, having got into his head in some odd +association with his fiddle, was continually coming up as he played his +old airs, and could not be got out again, especially as he fancied that +the comely and simple-hearted creature had a lurking fondness for both +his music and himself. + +Away he went: and he was right. The damsel made no objection to his +overtures. Tall, stout, fresh, pleasant growth of the open air and the +hills, as she was, she never dreamed of despising the little skipping +tailor of Rapps, though he was shorter by the head than herself. She had +heard his music, and evidently had danced after it. The fiddler and +fiddle together filled up her ambition. But the old people!--they were +in perfect hysterics of wrath and indignation. Their daughter!--with the +exception of one brother, now absent on a visit to his uncle in Hungary, +a great gold-miner in the Carpathian mountains, the sole remnant of an +old, substantial house, which had fed their flocks and their herds on +the hills for three generations, and now drew wealth from the heart of +these hills themselves! It was death! poison! pestilence! The girl must +be mad; the hop-o'-my-thumb scoundrel must carry witch-powder! + +Nevertheless, as Hans and the damsel were agreed, every thing +else--threats, denunciations, sarcasms, cuttings-off with a shilling, +and loss of a ponderous dowry--all went for nothing. They were married, +as some thousands were before them in just the like circumstances. But +if the Bohemian maid was not mad, it must be confessed that Hans was +rather so. He was monstrously exasperated at the contempt heaped by the +heavy bergman on the future Bürgermeister of Rapps, and determined to +show a little spirit. As his fiddle entered into all his schemes, he +resolved to have music at his wedding; and no sooner did he and his +bride issue from the church, than out broke the harmony which he had +provided. The fiddle played merrily, "You'll repent, repent, repent; +you'll repent, repent, repent;" and the bassoon answered, in surly +tones, "And soon! and soon!" "I hope, my dear," said the bride, "You +don't mean the words for us." "No, love," explained Hans, gallantly; "I +don't say 'we,' but 'you'--that is, certain haughty people on these +hills that shall be nameless." Then the music played till they reached +the inn where they dined, and then set off in a handsome hired carriage +for Rapps. + +It is true, that there was little happiness in this affair to any one. +The old people were full of anger, curses, and threats of total +disownment. Hans's pride was pricked, and perforated, till he was as +sore as if he had been tattooed with his own needle; and his wife was +completely drowned in sorrow at such a parting with her parents, and +with no little sense of remorse for her disobedience. Nevertheless, they +reached home; things began gradually to assume a more composed aspect. +Hans loved his wife; she loved him; he was industrious, she was careful; +and they trusted, in time, to bring her parents round, when they should +see that they were doing well in the world. + +Again the saving scheme began to haunt Hans; but he had one luckless +notion, which was destined to cost him no little vexation. With the +stock of the shop, he had inherited from his father a stock of old +maxims, which, unluckily, had not got burnt in the fire with the rest of +the patrimonial heritage. Among these was one, that a woman can not keep +a secret. Acting on this creed, Hans not only never told his wife of the +project of becoming Bürgermeister of Rapps, but he did not even give her +reason to suppose that he laid up a shilling; and that she might not +happen to stumble upon his money, he took care to carry it always about +him. It was his delight, when he got into a quiet corner, or as he came +along a retired lane, from his errands, to take it out and count it; and +calculate when it would amount to this and that sum, and when the full +sum would be really his own. Now, it happened one day, that having been +a good deal absorbed in these speculations, he had loitered a precious +piece of time away; and suddenly coming to himself, he set off, as was +his wont, on a kind of easy trot, in which, his small, light form thrown +forward, his pale, gray-eyed, earnest-looking visage thrown up toward +the sky, and his long blue coat flying in a stream behind him, he cut +one of the most extraordinary figures in the world; and checking his +pace as he entered the town, he involuntarily clapped his hand on his +pocket, and behold! his money was gone! It had slipped away through a +hole it had worn. In the wildness and bitterness of his loss, he turned +back, heartily cursing the spinner and the weaver of that most +detestable piece of buckram that composed his breeches-pocket, for +having put it together so villainously that it broke down with the +carriage of a few dollars, halfpence, thimbles, balls of wax and thread, +and a few other sundries, after the trifling wear of seven years, nine +months, and nineteen days. + +He was peering, step by step, after his lost treasure, when up came his +wife, running like one wild, and telling him that he must come that +instant; for the Ritter of Flachenflaps had brought in new liveries for +all his servants, and threatened if he did not see Hans in five minutes, +he would carry the work over to the other side of the street. There was +a perplexity! The money was not to be found, and if it were found in the +presence of his wife, he would regard it as no better than lost. He was +therefore obliged to excuse his conduct, being caught in the act of +poring after something, to tell, if not a lie, at least the very +smallest part of the truth, and say that he had lost his thimble. The +money was not found, and to make bad worse, he was in danger of losing a +good job, and all the Ritter's work forever, as a consequence. + +Away he ran, therefore, groaning inwardly, at full speed, and, arriving +out of breath, saw the Ritter's carriage drawn up at his opponent's +door. Wormwood upon wormwood! His money was lost; his best customer was +lost, and thrown into the jaws of the detested Hippopotamus. There he +beheld him and his man in a prime bustle from day to day, while his own +house was deserted. All people went where the Ritter went, of course. +The Hippopotamus was now grazing and browsing through Hans's richest +meadows with a vengeance. He was flourishing out of all bounds. He had +got a horse to ride out on and take orders, and to all appearance was +likely to become Bürgermeister ten years before Hans had got ten dollars +of his own. + +It was too much for even his sanguine temperament; he sank down to the +very depths of despair; his fiddle had lost its music; he could not +abide to hear it; he sate moody and disconsolate, with a beard an inch +long. His wife for some time hoped it would go off; but, seeing it come +to this, she began to console and advise, to rouse his courage and his +spirits. She told him it was that horse which gave the advantage to his +neighbor. While he went trudging on foot, wearying himself, and wasting +his time, people came, grew weary, and would not wait. She offered, +therefore, to borrow her neighbor's ass for him; and advised him to ride +out daily a little way. It would look as though he had business in the +country. It would look as if his time was precious; it would look well, +and do his health good into the bargain. Hans liked her counsel; it +sounded well--nay, exceedingly discreet. He always thought her a gem of +a woman, but he never imagined her half so able. What a pity a woman +could not be trusted with a secret! Were it not for that, she would be a +helpmate past all reckoning. + +The ass, however, was got: out rode Hans; looked amazingly hurried; and, +being half-crazed with care, people thought he was half-crazed with +stress of business. Work came in; things went flowingly on again; Hans +blessed his stars; and as he grasped his cash, he every day stitched it +into the crown of his cap, taking paper-money for the purpose. No more +pots, no more hiding-holes, no more breeches-pockets for him; he put it +under the guardianship of his own strong thread and dexterous needle; +and all went on exceedingly well. + +Accidents will, however, occur, if men will not trust their wives; and +especially if they will not avoid awkward habits. Now, Hans had a +strange habit of sticking his needles on his breeches-knees as he sat at +work; and sometimes he would have half-a-dozen on each knee for +half-a-dozen days. His wife often told him to take them out when he came +down from his board, and often took them out herself; but it was of no +use. He was just in this case one day as he rode out to take measure of +a gentleman, about five miles off. The ass, to his thinking, was in a +remarkably brisk mood. Off it went, without whip or spur, at a good +active trot, and, not satisfied with trotting, soon fairly proceeded to +a gallop. Hans was full of wonder at the beast. Commonly it tired his +arm worse with thrashing it during his hour's ride, than the exercise of +his goose and sleeve-board did for a whole day; but now he was fain to +pull it in. It was to no purpose; faster than ever it dashed on, +prancing, running sideways, wincing, and beginning to show a most ugly +temper. What, in the name of all Balaams, could possess the animal, he +could not for his life conceive! The only chance of safety appeared to +lie in clinging with both arms and legs to it, like a boa-constrictor to +its victim, when, shy!--away it flew, as if it were driven by a legion +of devils. In another moment, it stopped; down went its head, up went +its infernal heels; and Hans found himself some ten yards off, in the +middle of a pool. He escaped drowning, but the cap was gone; he had been +foolish enough to stitch some dollars, in hard cash, recently received, +into it along with his paper, and they sunk it, past recovery! He came +home, dripping like a drowned mouse, with a most deplorable tale; but +with no more knowledge of the cause of his disaster than the man in the +moon, till he tore his fingers on the needles, in abstracting his wet +clothes. + +Fortune now seemed to have said, as plainly as she could speak, "Hans, +confide in your wife. You see all your schemes without her fail. Open +your heart to her--deal fairly, generously, and you will reap the merits +of it." It was all in vain--he had not yet come to his senses. Obstinate +as a mule--he determined to try once more. But good-by to the ass! The +only thing he resolved to mount was his shop board--that bore him well, +and brought him continued good, could he only continue to keep it. + +His wife, I said, came from the mountains; she, therefore, liked the +sight of trees. Now, in Hans's back-yard there was neither tree nor +turf, so she got some tubs, and in them she planted a variety of +fir-trees, which made a pleasant appearance, and gave a help to her +imagination of the noble firs of her native scenes. In one of these +tubs, Hans conceived the singular design of depositing his future +treasure. "Nobody, will meddle with them," he thought, so accordingly, +from week to week, he concealed in one of them his acquisitions. It had +gone on a long time. He had been out one day, collecting some of his +debts--he had succeeded beyond his hopes, and came back exulting. The +sum was saved; and, in the gladness of his heart, he bought his wife a +new gown. He bounded into the house with the lightness of seventeen. His +wife was not there--he looked into the back-yard. Saints and angels! +what is that? He beheld his wife busy with the tubs. The trees were +uprooted, and laid on the ground, and every particle of soil was thrown +out of the tubs. In the delirium of consternation, he flew to ask what +she had been doing. + +"Oh! the trees, poor things, did not flourish; they looked sickly and +pining; she determined to give them some soil more suitable to their +natures; she had thrown the earth into the river, at the bottom of the +yard." + +"And you have thrown into the river," exclaimed Hans, frantically, "the +hoarding of three years; the money which had cost me many a weary +day--many an anxious night. The money which would have made our +fortunes--in short, that would have made me Bürgermeister of Rapps." +Completely thrown off his guard, he betrayed his secret. + +"Good gracious!" cried his wife, exceedingly alarmed; "why did you not +tell me of it?" + +"Ay, that is the question!" said he. And it was a question; for, spite +of himself, it had occurred to his mind some dozens of times, and now it +came so overwhelmingly, that even when he thought he treated it with +contempt, it had fixed itself upon his better reason, and never left him +till it had worked a most fortunate revolution. He said to himself, "Had +I told my wife of it at the first, it could not possibly have happened +worse; and it is very likely it would have happened better. For the +future, then, be it so." + +Thereupon, he unfolded to her the whole history and mystery of his +troubles, and his hopes. Now, Mrs. Hans Nadeltreiber had great cause to +feel herself offended, most grievously offended; but she was not at all +of a touchy temperament. She was a sweet, tender, patient, loving +creature, who desired her husband's honor and prosperity beyond any +thing; so she sate down, and in the most mild, yet acute and able +manner, laid down to him a plan of operations, and promised him such +aids and succors, that, struck at once with shame, contrition, and +admiration, he sprung up, clasped her to his heart, called her the very +gem of womanhood, and skipped two or three times across the floor, like +a man gone out of his senses. The truth is, however, he was but just +come into them. + +From this day, a new life was begun in Hans's house. There he sat at his +work; there sat his wife by his side; aiding and contriving with a +woman's wit, a woman's love, and a woman's adroitness. She was worth ten +journeymen. Work never came in faster; never gave such satisfaction; +never brought in so much money; nor, besides this, was there ever such +harmony in the house, nor had they ever held such delectable discourse +together. There was nothing to conceal. Hans's thoughts flowed like a +great stream; and when they grew a little wild and visionary, as they +were apt to do, his wife smoothened and reduced them to sobriety, with +such a delicate touch, that, so far from feeling offended, he was +delighted beyond expression with her prudence. The fifty dollars were +raised in almost no time; and, as if prognostic of its becoming the seed +of a fortune, it came in most opportunely for purchasing a lot of cloth, +which more than trebled its cost, and gave infinite satisfaction to his +customers. Hans saw that the tide was rapidly rising with him, and his +wife urged him to push on with it; to take a larger house; to get more +hands; and to cut such a figure as should at once eclipse his rival. The +thing was done; but as their capital was still found scanty enough for +such an undertaking, Mrs. Nadeltreiber resolved to try what she could do +to increase it. + +I should have informed the reader, had not the current of Hans's +disasters ran too strong for me, that his wife's parents were dead, and +had died without giving her any token of reconciliation--a circumstance +which, although it cut her to the heart, did not quite cast her down, +feeling that she had done nothing but what a parent might forgive, being +all of us creatures alike liable to error, demanding alike some little +indulgence for our weaknesses and our fancies. Her brother was now sole +representative of the family; and knowing the generosity of his nature, +she determined to pay him a visit, although, for the first time since +her marriage, in a condition very unfit for traveling. She went. Her +brother received her with all his early affection. In his house was born +her first child; and so much did she and her bantling win upon his +heart, that when the time came that she must return, nothing would serve +but he would take her himself. She had been so loud in Hans's praise, +that he determined to go and shake him by the hand. It would have done +any one good to have seen this worthy mountaineer setting forth, seated +in his neat, green-painted wicker wagon; his sister by his side, and the +child snugly-bedded in his own corn-hopper at their feet. Thus did they +go statelily, with his great black horse drawing them. It would have +been equally pleasant to see him set down his charge at the door of +Hans's house, and behold with wonder that merry mannikin, all smiles and +gesticulation, come forth to receive them. The contrast between Hans and +his brother-in-law was truly amusing. He, a shadow-like homunculus, so +light and dry, that any wind threatened to blow him before it; the +bergman, with a countenance like the rising sun, the stature of a giant, +and limbs like an elephant. Hans watched, with considerable anxiety, the +experiment of his kinsman seating himself in a chair. The chair, +however, stood firm; and the good man surveyed Hans, in return, with a +curious and critical air, as if doubtful whether he must not hold him +in contempt for the want of that solid matter of which he himself had +too much. Hans's good qualities, however, got the better of him. "The +man's a man, though," said he to himself, very philosophically, "and as +he is good to my sister, he shall know of it." Hans delighted him every +evening, by the powers of his violin; and the bergman, excessively fond +of music, like most of his countrymen, declared that he might perform in +the emperor's orchestra, and find nobody there to beat him. When he took +his leave, therefore, he seized one of Hans's hands with a cordial gripe +that was felt through every limb, and into the other he put a bag of one +thousand rix dollars, saying, "My sister ought not to have come +dowerless into a good husband's house. This is properly her own: take +it, and much good may it do you." + +Our story need not be prolonged. The new tailor soon fled before the +star of Hans's ascendency. A very few years saw him installed into the +office of Bürgermeister, the highest of earthly honors in his eyes; and +if he had one trouble left, it was only in the reflection that he might +have attained his wishes years before had he understood the heart of a +good woman. The worshipful Herr Bürgermeister, and Frau Bürgermeisterin +of Rapps, often visited their colossal brother of the Böhmerwald, and +were thought to reflect no discredit on the old bergman family. + + + + +[From Dickens's "Household Words."] + +LITTLE MARY.--A TALE OF THE IRISH FAMINE. + + +That was a pleasant place where I was born, though 'twas only a thatched +cabin by the side of a mountain stream, where the country was so lonely, +that in summer time the wild ducks used to bring their young ones to +feed on the bog, within a hundred yards of our door; and you could not +stoop over the bank to raise a pitcher full of water, without +frightening a shoal of beautiful speckled trout. Well, 'tis long ago +since my brother Richard, that's now grown a fine, clever man, God bless +him! and myself, used to set off together up the mountain to pick +bunches of the cotton plant and the bog myrtle, and to look for birds' +and wild bees' nests. 'Tis long ago--and though I'm happy and well off +now, living in the big house as own maid to the young ladies, who, on +account of my being foster-sister to poor darling Miss Ellen, that died +of decline, treat me more like their equal than their servant, and give +me the means to improve myself; still, at times, especially when James +Sweeney, a dacent boy of the neighbors, and myself are taking a walk +together through the fields in the cool and quiet of a summer's evening, +I can't help thinking of the times that are passed, and talking about +them to James with a sort of peaceful sadness, more happy, maybe, than +if we ware laughing aloud. + +Every evening, before I say my prayers, I read a chapter in the Bible +that Miss Ellen gave me; and last night I felt my tears dropping forever +so long over one verse, "And God shall wipe away all tears from their +eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, +neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed +away." The words made me think of them that are gone--of my father, and +his wife that was a true, fond mother to me; and above all, of my little +sister Mary, the _clureen bawn_[F] that nestled in her bosom. + +I was a wild slip of a girl, ten years of age, and my brother Richard +about two years older, when my father brought home his second wife. She +was the daughter of a farmer up at Lackabawn, and was reared with care +and dacency; but her father held his ground at a rack-rent, and the +middleman that was between him and the head landlord did not pay his own +rent, so the place was ejected, and the farmer collected every penny he +had, and set off with his family to America. My father had a liking for +the youngest daughter, and well become him to have it, for a sweeter +creature never drew the breath of life; but while her father passed for +a _strong_[G] farmer, he was timorous-like about asking her to share his +little cabin; however, when he found how matters stood, he didn't lose +much time in finding out that she was willing to be his wife, and a +mother to his boy and girl. _That_ she was, a patient loving one. Oh! it +often sticks me like a knife, when I think how many times I fretted her +with my foolishness and my idle ways, and how 'twas a long time before +I'd call her "mother." Often, when my father would be going to chastise +Richard and myself for our provoking doings, especially the day that we +took half-a-dozen eggs from under the hatching hen, to play "Blind Tom" +with them, she'd interfere for us, and say, "Tim, _aleagh_, don't touch +them this time; sure 'tis only _arch_ they are: they'll get more sense +in time." And then, after he was gone out, she'd advise us for our good +so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn't look black at her. +She did wonders, too, about the house and garden. They were both dirty +and neglected enough when she first came over them; for I was too young +and foolish, and my father too busy with his out-door work, and the old +woman that lived with us in service too feeble and too blind to keep the +place either clean or decent; but my mother got the floor raised, and +the green pool in front drained, and a parcel of roses and honey-suckles +planted there instead. The neighbors' wives used to say, 'twas all pride +and upsetting folly, to keep the kitchen-floor swept clean, and to put +the potatoes on a dish, instead of emptying them out of the pot into the +middle of the table; and, besides, 'twas a cruel, unnatural thing, they +said, to take away the pool from the ducks, that they were always used +to paddle in so handy. But my mother was always too busy and too happy +to heed what they said; and, besides, she was always so ready to do a +kind turn for any of them, that, out of poor shame, they had at last to +leave off abusing her "fine English ways." + +West of our house there was a straggling, stony piece of ground, where, +within the memory of man nothing ever grew but nettles, docks, and +thistles. One Monday, when Richard and myself came in from school, my +mother told us to set about weeding it, and to bring in some basketfuls +of good clay from the banks of the river; she said that if we worked +well at it until Saturday, she'd bring me a new frock, and Dick a +jacket, from the next market-town; and encouraged by this, we set to +work with right good will, and didn't leave off till supper time. The +next day we did the same; and by degrees, when we saw the heap of weeds +and stones that we got out, growing big, and the ground looking nice and +smooth and red and rich, we got quite anxious about it ourselves, and we +built a nice little fence round it to keep out the pigs. When it was +manured, my mother planted cabbages, parsnips, and onions in it; and, to +be sure, she got a fine crop out of it, enough to make us many a nice +supper of vegetables stewed with pepper, and a small taste of bacon or a +red herring. Besides, she sold in the market as much as bought a Sunday +coat for my father, a gown for herself, a fine pair of shoes for Dick, +and as pretty a shawl for myself, as e'er a colleen in the country could +show at mass. Through means of my father's industry and my mother's good +management, we were, with the blessing of God, as snug and comfortable a +poor family as any in Munster. We paid but a small rent, and we had +always plenty of potatoes to eat, good clothes to wear, and cleanliness +and decency in and about our little cabin. + +Five years passed on in this way, and at last little Mary was born. She +was a delicate fairy thing, with that look, even from the first, in her +blue eyes, which is seldom seen, except where the shadow of the grave +darkens the cradle. She was fond of her father, and of Richard, and of +myself, and would laugh and crow when she saw us, but _the love in the +core of her heart_ was for her mother. No matter how tired, or sleepy, +or cross the baby might be, one word from _her_ would set the bright +eyes dancing, and the little rosy month smiling, and the tiny limbs +quivering, as if walking or running couldn't content her, but she must +fly to her mother's arms. And how that mother doted on the very ground +she trod! I often thought that the Queen in her state carriage, with her +son, God bless him! alongside of her, dressed out in gold and jewels, +was not one bit happier than my mother, when she sat under the shade of +the mountain ash, near the door, in the hush of the summer's evening, +singing and _cronauning_ her only one to sleep in her arms. In the month +of October, 1845, Mary was four years old. That was the bitter time, +when first the food of the earth was turned to poison; when the gardens +that used to be so bright and sweet, covered with the purple and white +potato blossoms, became in one night black and offensive, as if fire had +come down from heaven to burn them up. 'Twas a heart-breaking thing to +see the laboring men, the crathurs! that had only the one half-acre to +feed their little families, going out, after work, in the evenings to +dig their suppers from under the black stalks. Spadeful after spadeful +would be turned up, and a long piece of a ridge dug through, before +they'd get a small kish full of such withered _crohauneens_,[H] as other +years would be hardly counted fit for the pigs. + +It was some time before the distress reached us, for there was a trifle +of money in the savings' bank, that held us in meal, while the neighbors +were next door to starvation. As long as my father and mother had it, +they shared it freely with them that were worse off than themselves; but +at last the little penny of money was all spent, the price of flour was +raised; and, to make matters worse, the farmer that my father worked +for, at a poor eight-pence a day, was forced to send him and three more +of his laborers away, as he couldn't afford to pay them even _that_ any +longer. Oh! 'twas a sorrowful night when my father brought home the +news. I remember, as well as if I saw it yesterday, the desolate look in +his face when he sat down by the ashes of the turf fire that had just +baked a yellow meal cake for his supper. My mother was at the opposite +side, giving little Mary a drink of sour milk out of her little wooden +piggin, and the child didn't like it, being delicate and always used to +sweet milk, so she said: + +"Mammy, won't you give me some of the nice milk instead of that?" + +"I haven't it _asthore_, nor can't get it," said her mother, "so don't +ye fret." + +Not a word more out of the little one's mouth, only she turned her +little cheek in toward her mother, and staid quite quiet, as if she was +hearkening to what was going on. + +"Judy," said my father, "God is good, and sure 'tis only in Him we must +put our trust; for in the wide world I can see nothing but starvation +before us." + +"God _is_ good, Tim," replied my mother; "He won't forsake us." + +Just then Richard came in with a more joyful face than I had seen on him +for many a day. + +"Good news!" says he, "good news, father! there's work for us both on +the Droumcarra road. The government works are to begin there to-morrow; +you'll get eight-pence a day, and I'll get six-pence." + +If you saw our delight when we heard this, you'd think 'twas the free +present of a thousand pounds that came to us, falling through the roof, +instead of an offer of small wages for hard work. + +To be sure the potatoes were gone, and the yellow meal was dear and dry +and chippy--it hadn't the _nature_ about it that a hot potato has for a +poor man; but still 'twas a great thing to have the prospect of getting +enough of even that same, and not to be obliged to follow the rest of +the country into the poor-house, which was crowded to that degree that +the crathurs there--God help them!--hadn't room even to die quietly in +their beds, but were crowded together on the floor like so many dogs in +a kennel. The next morning my father and Richard were off before +daybreak, for they had a long way to walk to Droumcarra, and they should +be there in time to begin work. They took an Indian meal cake with them +to eat for their dinner, and poor dry food it was, with only a draught +of cold water to wash it down. Still my father, who was knowledgeable +about such things, always said it was mighty wholesome when it was well +cooked; but some of the poor people took a great objection against it on +account of the yellow color, which they thought came from having sulphur +mixed with it--and they said, Indeed it was putting a great affront on +the decent Irish to mix up their food as if 'twas for mangy dogs. Glad +enough, poor creatures, they were to get it afterward, when sea-weed and +nettles, and the very grass by the roadside, was all that many of them +had to put into their mouths. + +When my father and brother came home in the evening, faint and tired +from the two long walks and the day's work, my mother would always try +to have something for them to eat with their porridge--a bit of butter, +or a bowl of thick milk, or maybe a few eggs. She always gave me plenty +as far as it would go; but 'twas little she took herself. She would +often go entirely without a meal, and then she'd slip down to the +huckster's, and buy a little white bun for Mary; and I'm sure it used to +do her more good to see the child eat it, than if she had got a +meat-dinner for herself. No matter how hungry the poor little thing +might be, she'd always break off a bit to put into her mother's mouth, +and she would not be satisfied until she saw her swallow it; then the +child would take a drink of cold water out of her little tin porringer, +as contented as if it was new milk. + +As the winter advanced, the weather became wet and bitterly cold, and +the poor men working on the roads began to suffer dreadfully from being +all day in wet clothes, and, what was worse, not having any change to +put on when they went home at night without a dry thread about them. +Fever soon got among them, and my father took it. My mother brought the +doctor to see him, and by selling all our decent clothes, she got for +him whatever was wanting, but all to no use: 'twas the will of the Lord +to take him to himself, and he died after a few days' illness. + +It would be hard to tell the sorrow that his widow and orphans felt, +when they saw the fresh sods planted on his grave. It was not grief +altogether like the grand stately grief of the quality, although maybe +the same sharp knife is sticking into the same sore bosom _inside_ in +both; but the _outside_ differs in rich and poor. I saw the mistress a +week after Miss Ellen died. She was in her drawing-room with the blinds +pulled down, sitting in a low chair, with her elbow on the small +work-table, and her cheek resting on her hand--not a speck of any thing +white about her but the cambric handkerchief, and the face that was +paler than the marble chimney-piece. + +When she saw me (for the butler, being busy, sent me in with the +luncheon-tray), she covered her eyes with her handkerchief, and began to +cry, but quietly, as if she did not want it to be noticed. As I was +going out, I just heard her say to Miss Alice in a choking voice: + +"Keep Sally here always; our poor darling was fond of her." And as I +closed the door, I heard her give one deep sob. The next time I saw her, +she was quite composed; only for the white cheek and the black dress, +you would not know that the burning feel of a child's last kiss had ever +touched her lips. + +My father's wife mourned for him after another fashion. _She_ could not +sit quiet, she must work hard to keep the life in them to whom he gave +it; and it was only in the evenings when she sat down before the fire +with Mary in her arms, that she used to sob and rock herself to and fro, +and sing a low, wailing keen for the father of the little one, whose +innocent tears were always ready to fall when she saw her mother cry. +About this time my mother got an offer from some of the hucksters in the +neighborhood, who knew her honesty, to go three times a week to the next +market-town, ten miles off, with their little money, and bring them back +supplies of bread, groceries, soap, and candles. This she used to do, +walking the twenty miles--ten of them with a heavy load on her back--for +the sake of earning enough to keep us alive. 'Twas very seldom that +Richard could get a stroke of work to do: the boy wasn't strong in +himself, for he had the sickness too; though he recovered from it, and +always did his best to earn an honest penny wherever he could. I often +wanted my mother to let me go in her stead and bring back the load; but +she never would hear of it, and kept me at home to mind the house and +little Mary. My poor pet lamb! 'twas little minding she wanted. She +would go after breakfast and sit at the door, and stop there all day, +watching for her mother, and never heeding the neighbors' children that +used to come wanting her to play. Through the live-long hours she would +never stir, but just keep her eyes fixed on the lonesome _boreen_;[I] +and when the shadow of the mountain-ash grew long, and she caught a +glimpse of her mother ever so far off, coming toward home, the joy that +would flush on the small, patient face, was brighter than the sunbeam on +the river. And faint and weary as the poor woman used to be, before ever +she sat down, she'd have Mary nestling in her bosom. No matter how +little she might have eaten herself that day, she would always bring +home a little white bun for Mary; and the child, that had tasted nothing +since morning, would eat it so happily, and then fall quietly asleep in +her mother's arms. + +At the end of some months I got the sickness myself, but not so heavily +as Richard did before. Any way, he and my mother tended me well through +it. They sold almost every little stick of furniture that was left, to +buy me drink and medicine. By degrees I recovered, and the first evening +I was able to sit up, I noticed a strange, wild brightness in my +mother's eyes, and a hot flush on her thin cheeks--she had taken the +fever. + +Before she lay down on the wisp of straw that served her for a bed, she +brought little Mary over to me: "Take her, Sally," she said--and between +every word she gave the child a kiss--"take her; she's safer with you +than she'd be with me, for you're over the sickness, and 'tisn't long +any way, I'll be with you, my jewel," she said, as she gave the little +creature one long close hug, and put her into my arms. + +'Twould take long to tell all about her sickness--how Richard and I, as +good right we had, tended her night and day; and how, when every +farthing and farthing's worth we had in the world was gone, the mistress +herself came down from the big house, the very day after the family +returned home from France, and brought wine, food, medicine, linen, and +every thing we could want. + +Shortly after the kind lady was gone, my mother took the change for +death; her senses came back, she grew quite strong-like, and sat up +straight in the bed. + +"Bring me the child, Sally, _aleagh_," she said. And when I carried +little Mary over to her, she looked into the tiny face, as if she was +reading it like a book. + +"You won't be long away from me, my own one," she said, while her tears +fell down upon the child like summer-rain. + +"Mother," said I, as well as I could speak for crying, "sure you _Know_ +I'll do my best to tend her." + +"I know you will, _acushla_; you were always a true and dutiful daughter +to me and to him that's gone; but, Sally, there's _that_ in my weeny one +that won't let her thrive without the mother's hand over her, and the +mother's heart for hers to lean against. And now--" It was all she could +say: she just clasped the little child to her bosom, fell back on my +arm, and in a few moments all was over. At first, Richard and I could +not believe that she was dead; and it was very long before the orphan +would loose her hold of the stiffening fingers; but when the neighbors +came in to prepare for the wake, we contrived to flatter her away. + +Days passed on; the child was very quiet; she used to go as usual to sit +at the door, and watch, hour after hour, along the road that her mother +always took coming home from market, waiting for her that could never +come again. When the sun was near setting, her gaze used to be more +fixed and eager; but when the darkness came on, her blue eyes used to +droop like the flowers that shut up their leaves, and she would come in +quietly without saying a word, and allow me to undress her and put her +to bed. + +It troubled us and the young ladies greatly that she would not eat. It +was almost impossible to get her to taste a morsel; indeed the only +thing she would let inside her lips was a bit of a little white bun, +like those her poor mother used to bring her. There was nothing left +untried to please her. I carried her up to the big house, thinking the +change might do her good, and the ladies petted her, and talked to her, +and gave her heaps of toys and cakes, and pretty frocks and coats; but +she hardly noticed them, and was restless and uneasy until she got back +to her own low, sunny door-step. + +Every day she grew paler and thinner, and her bright eyes had a sad, +fond look in them, so like her mother's. One evening she sat at the door +later than usual. + +"Come in, _alannah_," I said to her. "Won't you come in for your own +Sally?" + +She never stirred. I went over to her; she was quite still, with her +little hands crossed on her lap, and her head drooping on her chest. I +touched her--she was cold. I gave a loud scream, and Richard came +running; he stopped and looked, and then burst out crying like an +infant. Our little sister was dead! + +Well, my Mary, the sorrow was bitter, but it was short. You're gone home +to Him that comforts as a mother comforteth. _Agra machree_, your eyes +are as blue, and your hair as golden, and your voice as sweet, as they +were when you watched by the cabin-door; but your cheeks are not pale, +_acushla_, nor your little hands thin, and the shade of sorrow has +passed away from your forehead like a rain-cloud from the summer sky. +She that loved you so on earth, has clasped you forever to her bosom in +heaven; and God himself has wiped away all tears from your eyes, and +placed you both and our own dear father, far beyond the touch of sorrow +or the fear of death. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[F] White dove. + +[G] Rich. + +[H] Small potatoes. + +[I] By-road. + + + + +THE OLD WELL IN LANGUEDOC. + + +The proof of the truth of the following statement, taken from the +_Courrier de l'Europe_, rests not only upon the known veracity of the +narrator, but upon the fact that the whole occurrence is registered in +the judicial records of the criminal trials of the province of +Languedoc. We give it as we heard it from the lips of the dreamer, as +nearly as possible in his own words. + +As the junior partner in a commercial house at Lyons, I had been +traveling some time on the business of the firm, when, one evening in +the month of June, I arrived at a town in Languedoc where I had never +before been. I put up at a quiet inn in the suburbs, and, being very +much fatigued, ordered dinner at once; and went to bed almost +immediately after, determined to begin very early in the morning my +visits to the different merchants. + +I was no sooner in bed than I fell into a deep sleep, and had a +dream that made the strongest impression upon me. + +I thought that I had arrived at the same town, but in the middle of the +day, instead of the evening, as was really the case; that I had stopped +at the very same inn, and gone out immediately, as an unoccupied +stranger would do, to see whatever was worthy of observation in the +place. I walked down the main street, into another street, crossing it +at right angles, and apparently leading into the country. I had not gone +very far, when I came to a church, the Gothic portico of which I stopped +to examine. When I had satisfied my curiosity, I advanced to a by-path +which branched off from the main street. Obeying an impulse which I +could neither account for nor control, I struck into the path, though it +was winding, rugged, and unfrequented, and presently reached a miserable +cottage, in front of which was a garden covered with weeds. I had no +difficulty in getting into the garden, for the hedge had several gaps in +it, wide enough to admit four carts abreast. I approached an old well, +which stood solitary and gloomy in a distant corner; and looking down +into it, I beheld distinctly, without any possibility of mistake, a +corpse which had been stabbed in several places. I counted the deep +wounds and the wide gashes whence the blood was flowing. + +I would have cried out, but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. At +this moment I awoke, with my hair on end, trembling in every limb, and +cold drops of perspiration bedewing my forehead--awoke to find myself +comfortably in bed, my trunk standing beside me, birds warbling +cheerfully around my window; while a young, clear voice was singing a +provincial air in the next room, and the morning sun was shining +brightly through the curtains. + +I sprung from my bed, dressed myself, and, as it was yet very early, I +thought I would seek an appetite for breakfast by a morning stroll. I +accordingly entered the main street, and went along. The farther I +walked, the stranger became the confused recollection of the objects +that presented themselves to my view. "It is very strange," I thought; +"I have never been here before; and I could swear that I have seen this +house, and the next, and that other on the left." On I went, till I came +to the corner of a street, crossing the one down which I had come. For +the first time, I remembered my dream, but put away the thought as too +absurd; still, at every step, some fresh point of resemblance struck me. +"Am I still dreaming!" I exclaimed, not without a momentary thrill +through my whole frame. "Is the agreement to be perfect to the very +end?" Before long, I reached the church, with the same architectural +features that had attracted my notice in the dream; and then the +high-road, along which I pursued my way, coming at length to the same +by-path that had presented itself to my imagination a few hours before. +There was no possibility of doubt or mistake. Every tree, every turn, +was familiar to me. I was not at all of a superstitious turn, and was +wholly engrossed in the practical details of commercial business. My +mind had never dwelt upon the hallucinations, the presentiments, that +science either denies, or is unable to explain; but I must confess, that +I now felt myself spell-bound, as by some enchantment; and, with +Pascal's words on my lips, "A continued dream would be equal to +reality," I hurried forward, no longer doubting that the next moment +would bring me to the cottage; and this really was the case. In all its +outward circumstances, it corresponded to what I had seen in my dream. +Who, then, could wonder that I determined to ascertain whether the +coincidence would hold good in every other point? I entered the garden, +and went direct to the spot on which I had seen the well; but here the +resemblance failed--well, there was none. I looked in every direction; +examined the whole garden, went round the cottage, which appeared to be +inhabited, although no person was visible; but nowhere could I find any +vestige of a well. + +I made no attempt to enter the cottage, but hastened back to the hotel, +in a state of agitation difficult to describe. I could not make up my +mind to pass unnoticed such extraordinary coincidences; but how was any +clew to be obtained to the terrible mystery? + +I went to the landlord, and after chatting with him for some time on +different subjects, I came to the point, and asked him directly to whom +the cottage belonged that was on a by-road which I described to him. + +"I wonder, sir," said he, "what made you take such particular notice of +such a wretched little hovel. It is inhabited by an old man with his +wife, who have the character of being very morose and unsociable. They +rarely leave the house--see nobody, and nobody goes to see them; but +they are quiet enough, and I never heard any thing against them beyond +this. Of late, their very existence seems to have been forgotten; and I +believe, sir, that you are the first who, for years, has turned his +steps to the deserted spot." + +These details, far from satisfying my curiosity, did but provoke it the +more. Breakfast was served, but I could not touch it; and I felt that if +I presented myself to the merchants in such a state of excitement, they +would think me mad; and, indeed, I felt very much excited. I paced up +and down the room, looked out at the window, trying to fix my attention +on some external object, but in vain. I endeavored to interest myself in +a quarrel between two men in the street; but the garden and the cottage +preoccupied my mind; and, at last, snatching my hat, I cried, "I will +go, come what may." + +I repaired to the nearest magistrate, told him the object of my visit, +and related the whole circumstance briefly and clearly. I saw directly +that he was much impressed by my statement. + +"It is, indeed, very strange," said he, "and after what has happened, I +do not think I am at liberty to leave the matter without further +inquiry. Important business will prevent my accompanying you in a +search, but I will place two of the police at your command. Go once more +to the hovel, see its inhabitants, and search every part of it. You may, +perhaps, make some important discovery." + +I suffered but a very few moments to elapse before I was on my way, +accompanied by the two officers, and we soon reached the cottage. We +knocked, and after waiting for some time, an old man opened the door. He +received us somewhat uncivilly, but showed no mark of suspicion, nor, +indeed, of any other emotion, when we told him we wished to search the +house. + +"Very well, gentlemen; as fast, and as soon as you please," he replied. + +"Have you a well here?" I inquired. + +"No, sir; we are obliged to go for water to a spring at a considerable +distance." + +We searched the house, which I did, I confess, with a kind of feverish +excitement, expecting every moment to bring some fatal secret to light. +Meantime, the man gazed upon us with an impenetrable vacancy of look, +and we at last left the cottage without seeing any thing that could +confirm my suspicions. I resolved to inspect the garden once more; and a +number of idlers having been by this time collected, drawn to the spot +by the sight of a stranger with two armed men engaged in searching the +premises, I made inquiries of some of them whether they knew any thing +about a well in that place. I could get no information at first, but at +length an old woman came slowly forward, leaning on a crutch. + +"A well!" cried she; "is it the well you are looking after? That has +been gone these thirty years. I remember, as if it were only yesterday, +many a time, when I was a young girl, how I used to amuse myself by +throwing stones into it, and hearing the splash they used to make in the +water." + +"And could you tell where that well used to be?" I asked, almost +breathless with excitement. + +"As near as I can remember, on the very spot on which your honor is +standing," said the old woman. + +"I could have sworn it!" thought I, springing from the place as if I had +trod upon a scorpion. + +Need I say, that we set to work to dig up the ground. At about eighteen +inches deep, we came to a layer of bricks, which, being broken up, gave +to view some boards, which were easily removed; after which we beheld +the mouth of the well. + +"I was quite sure it was here," said the woman. "What a fool the old +fellow was to stop it up, and then have so far to go for water!" + +A sounding-line, furnished with hooks, was let down into the well; the +crowd pressing around us, and breathlessly bending over the dark and +fetid hole, the secrets of which seemed hidden in impenetrable +obscurity. This was repeated several times without any result. At +length, penetrating below the mud, the hooks caught an old chest, upon +the top of which had been thrown a great many large stones; and after +much effort and time, we succeeded in raising it to daylight. The sides +and lid were decayed and rotten; it needed no locksmith to open it; and +we found within, what I was certain we should find, and which paralyzed +with horror all the spectators, who had not my pre-convictions--we found +the remains of a human body. + +The police-officers who had accompanied me now rushed into the house, +and secured the person of the old man. As to his wife, no one could at +first tell what had become of her. After some search, however, she was +found hidden behind a bundle of fagots. + +By this time, nearly the whole town had gathered around the spot; and +now that this horrible fact had come to light, every body had some crime +to tell, which had been laid to the charge of the old couple. The people +who predict after an event, are numerous. + +The old couple were brought before the proper authorities, and privately +and separately examined. The old man persisted in his denial, most +pertinaciously; but his wife at length confessed, that, in concert with +her husband, she had once--a very long time ago--murdered a peddler, +whom they had met one night on the high-road, and who had been +incautious enough to tell them of a considerable sum of money which he +had about him, and whom, in consequence, they induced to pass the night +at their house. They had taken advantage of the heavy sleep induced by +fatigue, to strangle him; his body had been put into the chest, the +chest thrown into the well, and the well stopped up. + +The peddler being from another country, his disappearance had occasioned +no inquiry; there was no witness of the crime; and as its traces had +been carefully concealed from every eye, the two criminals had good +reason to believe themselves secure from detection. They had not, +however, been able to silence the voice of conscience; they fled from +the sight of their fellow-men; they trembled at the slightest noise, and +silence thrilled them with terror. They had often formed a determination +to leave the scene of their crime--to fly to some distant land; but +still some undefinable fascination kept them near the remains of their +victim. + +Terrified by the deposition of his wife, and unable to resist the +overwhelming proofs against him, the man at length made a similar +confession; and six weeks after, the unhappy criminals died on the +scaffold, in accordance with the sentence of the Parliament of Toulouse. +They died penitent. + +The well was once more shut up, and the cottage leveled to the ground. +It was not, however, until fifty years had in some measure deadened the +memory of the terrible transaction, that the ground was cultivated. It +is now a fine field of corn. + +Such was the dream and its result. + +I never had the courage to revisit the town where I had been an actor in +such a tragedy. + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +SUMMER PASTIME. + + + Do you ask how I'd amuse me + When the long bright summer comes, + And welcome leisure woos me + To shun life's crowded homes; + To shun the sultry city, + Whose dense, oppressive air + Might make one weep with pity + For those who must be there? + + I'll tell you then--I would not + To foreign countries roam, + As though my fancy could not + Find occupance at home; + Nor to home-haunts of fashion + Would I, least of all, repair, + For guilt, and pride, and passion, + Have summer-quarters there. + + Far, far from watering-places + Of note and name I'd keep, + For there would vapid faces + Still throng me in my sleep; + Then contact with the foolish, + The arrogant, the vain, + The meaningless--the mulish, + Would sicken heart and brain. + + No--I'd seek some shore of ocean + Where nothing comes to mar + The ever-fresh commotion + Of sea and land at war; + Save the gentle evening only + As it steals along the deep, + So spirit-like and lonely, + To still the waves to sleep. + + There long hours I'd spend in viewing + The elemental strife, + My soul the while subduing + With the littleness of life; + Of life, with all its paltry plans, + Its conflicts and its cares-- + The feebleness of all that's man's-- + The might that's God's and theirs! + + And when eve came I'd listen + To the stilling of that war, + Till o'er my head should glisten + The first pure silver star; + Then, wandering homeward slowly, + I'd learn my heart the tune + Which the dreaming billows lowly, + Were murmuring to the moon! + +R.C. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE CHEMISTRY OF A CANDLE. + + +The Wilkinsons were having a small party, it consisted of themselves and +Uncle Bagges, at which the younger members of the family, home for the +holidays, had been just admitted to assist after dinner. Uncle Bagges +was a gentleman from whom his affectionate relatives cherished +expectations of a testamentary nature. Hence the greatest attention was +paid by them to the wishes of Mr. Bagges, as well as to every +observation which he might be pleased to make. + +"Eh! what? you sir," said Mr. Bagges, facetiously addressing himself to +his eldest nephew, Harry--"Eh! what? I am glad to hear, sir, that you +are doing well at school. Now--eh! now, are you clever enough to tell me +where was Moses when he put the candle out?" + +"That depends, uncle," answered the young gentleman, "on whether he had +lighted the candle to see with at night, or by daylight to seal a +letter." + +"Eh! very good, now! 'Pon my word, very good," exclaimed Uncle Bagges. +"You must be Lord Chancellor, sir--Lord Chancellor, one of these days." + +"And now, uncle," asked Harry, who was a favorite with the old +gentleman, "can you tell me what you do when you put a candle out?" + +"Clap an extinguisher on it, you young rogue, to be sure." + +"Oh! but I mean, you cut off its supply of oxygen," said Master Harry. + +"Cut off its ox's--eh? what? I shall cut off your nose, you young dog, +one of these fine days." + +"He means something he heard at the Royal Institution," observed Mrs. +Wilkinson. "He reads a great deal about chemistry, and he attended +Professor Faraday's lectures there on the chemical history of a candle, +and has been full of it ever since." + +"Now, you sir," said Uncle Bagges, "come you here to me, and tell me +what you have to say about this chemical, eh? or comical; which? this +comical chemical history of a candle." + +"He'll bore you, Bagges," said Mrs. Wilkinson. "Harry, don't be +troublesome to your uncle." + +"Troublesome! Oh, not at all. He amuses me. I like to hear him. So let +him teach his old uncle the comicality and chemicality of a farthing +rushlight." + +"A wax candle will be nicer and cleaner, uncle, and answer the same +purpose. There's one on the mantle-shelf. Let me light it." + +"Take care you don't burn your fingers, or set any thing on fire," said +Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"Now, uncle," commenced Harry, having drawn his chair to the side of Mr. +Bagges, "we have got our candle burning. What do you see?" + +"Let me put on my spectacles," answered the uncle. + +"Look down on the top of the candle around the wick. See, it is a +little cup full of melted wax. The heat of the flame has melted the wax +just round the wick. The cold air keeps the outside of it hard, so as to +make the rim of it. The melted wax in the little cup goes up through the +wick to be burnt, just as oil does in the wick of a lamp. What do you +think makes it go up, uncle?" + +"Why--why, the flame draws it up, doesn't it?" + +"Not exactly, uncle. It goes up through little tiny passages in the +cotton wick, because very, very small channels, or pipes, or pores, have +the power in themselves of sucking up liquids. What they do it by is +called cap--something." + +"Capillary attraction, Harry," suggested Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Yes, that's it; just as a sponge sucks up water, or a bit of lump-sugar +the little drop of tea or coffee left in the bottom of a cup. But I +mustn't say much more about this, or else you will tell me I am doing +something very much like teaching my grandmother to--you know what." + +"Your grandmother, eh, young sharpshins?" + +"No--I mean my uncle. Now, I'll blow the candle out, like Moses; not to +be in the dark, though, but to see into what it is. Look at the smoke +rising from the wick. I'll hold a bit of lighted paper in the smoke, so +as not to touch the wick. But see, for all that, the candle lights +again. So this shows that the melted wax sucked up through the wick is +turned into vapor; and the vapor burns. The heat of the burning vapor +keeps on melting more wax, and that is sucked up too within the flame, +and turned into vapor, and burnt, and so on till the wax is all used up, +and the candle is gone. So the flame, uncle, you see is the last of the +candle, and the candle seems to go through the flame into +nothing--although it doesn't, but goes into several things, and isn't it +curious, as Professor Faraday said, that the candle should look so +splendid and glorious in going away." + +"How well he remembers, doesn't he?" observed Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"I dare say," proceeded Harry, "that the flame of the candle looks flat +to you; but if we were to put a lamp glass over it, so as to shelter it +from the draught, you would see it is round, round sideways, and running +up to a peak. It is drawn up by the hot air; you know that hot air +always rises, and that is the way smoke is taken up the chimney. What +should you think was in the middle of the flame?" + +"I should say, fire," replied Uncle Bagges. + +"Oh, no! The flame is hollow. The bright flame we see is something no +thicker than a thin peel, or skin; and it doesn't touch the wick. Inside +of it is the vapor I told you of just now. If you put one end of a bent +pipe into the middle of the flame, and let the other end of the pipe dip +into a bottle, the vapor or gas from the candle will mix with the air +there; and if you set fire to the mixture of gas from the candle and +air in the bottle, it would go off with a bang." + +"I wish you'd do that, Harry," said Master Tom, the younger brother of +the juvenile lecturer. + +"I want the proper things," answered Harry. "Well, uncle, the flame of +the candle is a little shining case, with gas in the inside of it, and +air on the outside, so that the case of flame is between the air and the +gas. The gas keeps going into the flame to burn, and when the candle +burns properly, none of it ever passes out through the flame; and none +of the air ever gets in through the flame to the gas. The greatest heat +of the candle is in this skin, or peel, or case of flame." + +"Case of flame!" repeated Mr. Bagges. "Live and learn. I should have +thought a candle flame was as thick as my poor old noddle." + +"I can show you the contrary," said Harry. "I take this piece of white +paper, look, and hold it a second or two down upon the candle flame, +keeping the flame very steady. Now I'll rub off the black of the smoke, +and--there--you find that the paper is scorched in the shape of a ring; +but inside the ring it is only dirtied, and not singed at all." + +"Seeing is believing," remarked the uncle. + +"But," proceeded Harry, "there is more in the candle flame than the gas +that comes out of the candle. You know a candle won't burn without air. +There must be always air around the gas, and touching it like to make it +burn. If a candle hasn't got enough air, it goes out, or burns badly, so +that some of the vapor inside of the flame comes out through it in the +form of smoke, and this is the reason of a candle smoking. So now you +know why a great clumsy dip smokes more than a neat wax candle; it is +because the thick wick of the dip makes too much fuel in proportion to +the air that can get to it." + +"Dear me! Well, I suppose there is a reason for every thing," exclaimed +the young philosopher's mamma. + +"What should you say, now," continued Harry, "if I told you that the +smoke that comes out of a candle is the very thing that makes a candle +light? Yes; a candle shines by consuming its own smoke. The smoke of a +candle is a cloud of small dust, and the little grains of the dust are +bits of charcoal, or carbon, as chemists call it. They are made in the +flame, and burned in the flame, and, while burning, make the flame +bright. They are burned the moment they are made; but the flame goes on +making more of them as fast as it burns them; and that is how it keeps +bright. The place they are made in, is in the case of flame itself, +where the strongest heat is. The great heat separates them from the gas +which comes from the melted wax, and, as soon as they touch the air on +the outside of the thin case of flame, they burn." + +"Can you tell how it is that the little bits of carbon cause the +brightness of the flame?" asked Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Because they are pieces of solid matter," answered Harry. "To make a +flame shine, there must always be some solid--or at least liquid--matter +in it." + +"Very good," said Mr. Bagges--"solid stuff necessary to brightness." + +"Some gases and other things," resumed Harry, "that burn with a flame +you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into +them. Oxygen and hydrogen--tell me if I use too hard words, +uncle--oxygen and hydrogen gases, if mixed together and blown through a +pipe, burn with plenty of heat but with very little light. But if their +flame is blown upon a piece of quick-lime, it gets so bright as to be +quite dazzling. Make the smoke of oil of turpentine pass through the +same flame, and it gives the flame a beautiful brightness directly." + +"I wonder," observed Uncle Bagges, "what has made you such a bright +youth." + +"Taking after uncle, perhaps," retorted his nephew. "Don't put my candle +and me out. Well, carbon or charcoal is what causes the brightness of +all lamps, and candles, and other common lights; so, of course, there is +carbon in what they are all made of." + +"So carbon is smoke, eh? and light is owing to your carbon. Giving light +out of smoke, eh? as they say in the classics," observed Mr. Bagges. + +"But what becomes of the candle," pursued Harry, "as it burns away? +where does it go?" + +"Nowhere," said his mamma, "I should think. It burns to nothing." + +"Oh, dear, no!" said Harry, "every thing--every body goes somewhere." + +"Eh!--rather an important consideration that," Mr. Bagges moralized. + +"You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing," +pursued Harry. "There are other things it goes into, not to be seen by +only looking, but you can get to see them by taking the right +means--just put your hand over the candle, uncle." + +"Thank you, young gentleman, I had rather be excused." + +"Not close enough down to burn you, uncle; higher up. There--you feel a +stream of hot air; so something seems to rise from the candle. Suppose +you were to put a very long, slender gas-burner over the flame, and let +the flame burn just within the end of it, as if it were a chimney, some +of the hot steam would go up and come out at the top, but a sort of dew +would be left behind in the glass chimney, if the chimney was cold +enough when you put it on. There are ways of collecting this sort of +dew, and when it is collected it turns out to be really water. I am not +joking, uncle. Water is one of the things which the candle turns into in +burning--water, coming out of fire. A jet of oil gives above a pint of +water in burning. In some lighthouses they burn, Professor Faraday says, +up to two gallons of oil in a night, and if the windows are cold, the +steam from the oil clouds the inside of the windows, and, in frosty +weather, freezes into ice." + +"Water out of a candle, eh?" exclaimed Mr. Bagges. "As hard to get, I +should have thought, as blood out of a post. Where does it come from?" + +"Part from the wax, and part from the air, and yet not a drop of it +comes either from the air or the wax. What do you make of that, uncle?" + +"Eh? Oh! I'm no hand at riddles. Give it up." + +"No riddle at all, uncle. The part that comes from the wax isn't water, +and the part that comes from the air isn't water, but when put together +they become water. Water is a mixture of two things, then. This can be +shown. Put some iron wire or turnings into a gun-barrel open at both +ends. Heat the middle of the barrel red-hot in a little furnace. Keep +the heat up, and send the steam of boiling water through the red-hot +gun-barrel. What will come out at the other end of the barrel won't be +steam; it will be gas, which doesn't turn to water again when it gets +cold, and which burns if you put a light to it. Take the turnings out of +the gun-barrel, and you will find them changed to rust, and heavier than +when they were put in. Part of the water is the gas that comes out of +the barrel, the other part is what mixes with the iron turnings, and +changes them to rust, and makes them heavier. You can fill a bladder +with the gas that comes out of the gun-barrel, or you can pass bubbles +of it up into a jar of water turned upside down in a trough, and, as I +said, you can make this part of the water burn." + +"Eh?" cried Mr. Bagges. "Upon my word. One of these days, we shall have +you setting the Thames on fire." + +"Nothing more easy," said Harry, "than to burn part of the Thames, or +any other water; I mean the gas that I have just told you about, which +is called hydrogen. In burning, hydrogen produces water again, like the +flame of the candle. Indeed, hydrogen is that part of the water, formed +by a candle burning, that comes from the wax. All things that have +hydrogen in them produce water in burning, and the more there is in +them, the more they produce. When pure hydrogen burns, nothing comes +from it but water, no smoke or soot at all. If you were to burn one +ounce of it, the water you would get would be just nine ounces. There +are many ways of making hydrogen, besides out of steam by the hot +gun-barrel. I could show it you in a moment by pouring a little +sulphuric acid mixed with water into a bottle upon a few zinc or steel +filings, and putting a cork in the bottle with a little pipe through it, +and setting fire to the gas that would come from the mouth of the pipe. +We should find the flame very hot, but having scarcely any brightness. I +should like you to see the curious qualities of hydrogen, particularly +how light it is, so as to carry things up in the air; and I wish I had +a small balloon to fill with it and make go up to the ceiling, or a +bag-pipe full of it to blow soap-bubbles with, and show how much faster +they rise than common ones, blown with the breath." + +"So do I," interposed Master Tom. + +"And so," resumed Harry, "hydrogen, you know, uncle, is part of water, +and just one-ninth part." + +"As hydrogen is to water, so is a tailor to an ordinary individual, eh?" +Mr. Bagges remarked. + +"Well, now, then, uncle, if hydrogen is the tailor's part of the water, +what are the other eight parts? The iron-turnings used to make hydrogen +in the gun-barrel, and rusted, take just those eight parts from the +water in the shape of steam, and are so much the heavier. Burn iron +turnings in the air, and they make the same rust, and gain just the same +in weight. So the other eight parts must be found in the air for one +thing, and in the rusted iron turnings for another, and they must also +be in the water; and now the question is, how to get at them?" + +"Out of the water? Fish for them, I should say," suggested Mr. Bagges. + +"Why, so we can," said Harry. "Only instead of hooks and lines, we must +use wires--two wires, one from one end, the other from the other, of a +galvanic battery. Put the points of these wires into water, a little +distance apart, and they instantly take the water to pieces. If they are +of copper, or a metal that will rust easily, one of them begins to rust, +and air-bubbles come up from the other. These bubbles are hydrogen. The +other part of the water mixes with the end of the wire and makes rust. +But if the wires are of gold, or a metal that does not rust easily, +air-bubbles rise from the ends of both wires. Collect the bubbles from +both wires in a tube, and fire them, and they turn to water again; and +this water is exactly the same weight as the quantity that has been +changed into the two gases. Now, then, uncle, what should you think +water was composed of?" + +"Eh? well--I suppose of those very identical two gases, young +gentleman." + +"Right, uncle. Recollect that the gas from one of the wires was +hydrogen, the one-ninth of water. What should you guess the gas from the +other wire to be?" + +"Stop--eh?--wait a bit--eh--oh!--why, the other eight-ninths, to be +sure." + +"Good again, uncle. Now this gas that is eight-ninths of water is the +gas called oxygen that I mentioned just now. This is a very curious gas. +It won't burn in air at all itself, like gas from a lamp, but it has a +wonderful power of making things burn that are lighted and put into it. +If you fill a jar with it--" + +"How do you manage that?" Mr. Bagges inquired. + +"You fill the jar with water," answered Harry, "and you stand it upside +down in a vessel full of water too. Then you let bubbles of the gas up +into the jar, and they turn out the water and take its place. Put a +stopper in the neck of the jar, or hold a glass plate against the mouth +of it, and you can take it out of the water, and so have bottled oxygen. +A lighted candle put into a jar of oxygen blazes up directly and is +consumed before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' Charcoal burns away in it +as fast, with beautiful bright sparks--phosphorus with a light that +dazzles you to look at--and a piece of iron or steel just made red-hot +at the end first, is burnt in oxygen quicker than a stick would be in +common air. The experiment of burning things in oxygen beats any +fire-works." + +"Oh, how jolly!" exclaimed Tom. + +"Now we see, uncle," Harry continued, "that water is hydrogen and oxygen +united together, that water is got wherever hydrogen is burnt in common +air, that a candle won't burn without air, and that when a candle burns +there is hydrogen in it burning, and forming water. Now, then, where +does the hydrogen of the candle get the oxygen from, to turn into water +with it?" + +"From the air, eh?" + +"Just so. I can't stop to tell you of the other things which there is +oxygen in, and the many beautiful and amusing ways of getting it. But as +there is oxygen in the air, and as oxygen makes things burn at such a +rate, perhaps you wonder why air does not make things burn as fast as +oxygen. The reason is, that there is something else in the air that +mixes with the oxygen and weakens it." + +"Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "But how is +that proved?" + +"Why, there is a gas, called nitrous gas, which, if you mix it with +oxygen, takes all the oxygen into itself, and the mixture of the nitrous +gas and oxygen, if you put water with it, goes into the water. Mix +nitrous gas and air together in a jar over water, and the nitrous gas +takes away the oxygen, and then the water sucks up the mixed oxygen and +nitrous gas, and that part of the air which weakens the oxygen is left +behind. Burning phosphorus in confined air will also take all the oxygen +from it, and there are other ways of doing the same thing. The portion +of air left behind is called nitrogen. You wouldn't know it from common +air by the look; it has no color, taste, nor smell, and it won't burn. +But things won't burn in it either; and any thing on fire put into it +goes out directly. It isn't fit to breathe; and a mouse, or any animal, +shut up in it dies. It isn't poisonous, though; creatures only die in it +for want of oxygen. We breathe it with oxygen, and then it does no harm, +but good; for if we breathe pure oxygen, we should breathe away so +violently, that we should soon breathe our life out. In the same way, if +the air were nothing but oxygen, a candle would not last above a minute." + +"What a tallow-chandler's bill we should have!" remarked Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"'If a house were on fire in oxygen,' as Professor Faraday said, 'every +iron bar, or rafter, or pillar, every nail and iron tool, and the +fire-place itself; all the zinc and copper roofs, and leaden coverings, +and gutters, and; pipes, would consume and burn, increasing the +combustion.'" + +"That would be, indeed, burning 'like a house on fire,'" observed Mr. +Bagges. + +"'Think,'" said Harry, continuing his quotation, "'of the Houses of +Parliament, or a steam-engine manufactory. Think of an iron-proof +chest--no proof against oxygen. Think of a locomotive and its +train--every engine, every carriage, and even every rail would be set on +fire and burnt up.' So now, uncle, I think you see what the use of +nitrogen is, and especially how it prevents a candle from burning out +too fast." + +"Eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "Well, I will say I do think we are under +considerable obligations to nitrogen." + +"I have explained to you, uncle," pursued Harry, "how a candle, in +burning, turns into water. But it turns into something else besides +that; there is a stream of hot air going up from it that won't condense +into dew; some of that is the nitrogen of the air which the candle has +taken all the oxygen from. But there is more in it than nitrogen. Hold a +long glass tube over a candle, so that the stream of hot air from it may +go up through the tube. Hold a jar over the end of the tube to collect +some of the stream of hot air. Put some lime-water, which looks quite +clear, into the jar; stop the jar, and shake it up. The lime-water, +which was quite clear before, turns milky. Then there is something made +by the burning of the candle that changes the color of the lime-water. +That is a gas, too, and you can collect it, and examine it. It is to be +got from several things, and is a part of all chalk, marble, and the +shells of eggs or of shell-fish. The easiest way to make it is by +pouring muriatic or sulphuric acid on chalk or marble. The marble or +chalk begins to hiss or bubble, and you can collect the bubbles in the +same way that you can oxygen. The gas made by the candle in burning, and +which also is got out of the chalk and marble, is called carbonic acid. +It puts out a light in a moment; it kills any animal that breathes it, +and it is really poisonous to breathe, because it destroys life even +when mixed with a pretty large quantity of common air. The bubbles made +by beer when it ferments, are carbonic acid, so is the air that fizzes +out of soda-water--and it is good to swallow though it is deadly to +breathe. It is got from chalk by burning the chalk as well as by putting +acid to it, and burning the carbonic acid out of chalk makes the chalk +lime. This is why people are killed sometimes by getting in the way of +the wind that blows from lime-kilns." + +"Of which it is advisable carefully to keep to the windward," Mr. +Wilkinson observed. + +"The most curious thing about carbonic acid gas," proceeded Harry, "is +its weight. Although it is only a sort of air, it is so heavy that you +can pour it from one vessel into another. You may dip a cup of it and +pour it down upon a candle, and it will put the candle out, which would +astonish an ignorant person; because carbonic acid gas is as invisible +as the air, and the candle seems to be put out by nothing. A soap-bubble +of common air floats on it like wood on water. Its weight is what makes +it collect in brewers' vats; and also in wells, where it is produced +naturally; and owing to its collecting in such places it causes the +deaths we so often hear about of those who go down into them without +proper care. It is found in many springs of water, more or less; and a +great deal of it comes out of the earth in some places. Carbonic acid +gas is what stupefies the dogs in the Grotto del Cane. Well, but how is +carbonic acid gas made by the candle?" + +"I hope with your candle you'll throw some light upon the subject," said +Uncle Bagges. + +"I hope so," answered Harry. "Recollect it is the burning of the smoke, +or soot, or carbon of the candle that makes the candle-flame bright. +Also that the candle won't burn without air. Likewise that it will not +burn in nitrogen, or air that has been deprived of oxygen. So the carbon +of the candle mingles with oxygen, in burning, to make carbonic acid +gas, just as the hydrogen does to form water. Carbonic acid gas, then, +is carbon or charcoal dissolved in oxygen. Here is black soot getting +invisible and changing into air; and this seems strange, uncle, doesn't +it?" + +"Ahem! Strange, if true," answered Mr. Bagges. "Eh? well! I suppose it's +all right." + +"Quite so, uncle. Burn carbon or charcoal either in the air or in +oxygen, and it is sure always to make carbonic acid, and nothing else, +if it is dry. No dew or mist gathers in a cold glass jar if you burn dry +charcoal in it. The charcoal goes entirely into carbonic acid gas, and +leaves nothing behind but ashes, which are only earthy stuff that was in +the charcoal, but not part of the charcoal itself. And now, shall I tell +you something about carbon?" + +"With all my heart," assented Mr. Bagges. + +"I said that there was carbon or charcoal in all common lights--so there +is in every common kind of fuel. If you heat coal or wood away from the +air, some gas comes away, and leaves behind coke from coal, and charcoal +from wood; both carbon, though not pure. Heat carbon as much as you will +in a close vessel, and it does not change in the least; but let the air +get to it, and then it burns and flies off in carbonic acid gas. This +makes carbon so convenient for fuel. But it is ornamental as well as +useful, uncle The diamond is nothing else than carbon." + +"The diamond, eh? You mean the black diamond." + +"No; the diamond, really and truly. The diamond is only carbon in the +shape of a crystal." + +"Eh? and can't some of your clever chemists crystallize a little bit of +carbon, and make a Koh-i-noor?" + +"Ah, uncle, perhaps we shall, some day. In the mean time, I suppose, we +must be content with making carbon so brilliant as it is in the flame of +a candle. Well; now you see that a candle-flame is vapor burning, and +the vapor, in burning, turns into water and carbonic acid gas. The +oxygen of both the carbonic acid gas and the water comes from the air, +and the hydrogen and carbon together are the vapor. They are distilled +out of the melted wax by the heat. But, you know, carbon alone can't be +distilled by any heat. It can be distilled, though, when it is joined +with hydrogen, as it is in the wax, and then the mixed hydrogen and +carbon rise in gas of the same kind as the gas in the streets, and that +also is distilled by heat from coal. So a candle is a little gas +manufactory in itself, that burns the gas as fast as it makes it." + +"Haven't you pretty nearly come to your candle's end?" said Mr. +Wilkinson. + +"Nearly. I only want to tell uncle, that the burning of a candle is +almost exactly like our breathing. Breathing is consuming oxygen, only +not so fast as burning. In breathing we throw out water in vapor and +carbonic acid from our lungs, and take oxygen in. Oxygen is as necessary +to support the life of the body, as it is to keep up the flame of a +candle." + +"So," said Mr. Bagges, "man is a candle, eh? and Shakspeare knew that, I +suppose (as he did most things), when he wrote + + "'Out, out, brief candle!' + +"Well, well; we old ones are moulds, and you young squires are dips and +rushlights, eh? Any more to tell us about the candle?" + +"I could tell you a great deal more about oxygen, and hydrogen, and +carbon, and water, and breathing, that Professor Faraday said, if I had +time; but you should go and hear him yourself, uncle." + +"Eh? well! I think I will. Some of us seniors may learn something from a +juvenile lecture, at any rate, if given by a Faraday. And now, my boy, I +will tell you what," added Mr. Bagges, "I am very glad to find you so +fond of study and science: and you deserve to be encouraged: and so I'll +give you a what-d'ye-call-it? a Galvanic Battery on your next birth-day; +and so much for your teaching your old uncle the chemistry of a candle." + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS COMPACT. + +A FREE TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. + +IN TWO PARTS.--PART I. + + +In the latter years of the last century, two youths, Ferdinand von +Hallberg, and Edward von Wensleben were receiving their education in the +military academy of Marienvheim. Among their schoolfellows they were +called Orestes and Pylades, or Damon and Pythias, on account of their +tender friendship, which constantly recalled to their schoolfellows' +minds the history of these ancient worthies. Both were sons of +officers, who had long served the state with honor, both were destined +for their father's profession, both accomplished and endowed by nature +with no mean talents. But fortune had not been so impartial in the +distribution of her favors--Hallberg's father lived on a small pension, +by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son's schooling at the +cost of the government; while Wensleben's parents willingly paid the +handsomest salary in order to insure to their only child the best +education which the establishment afforded. This disparity in +circumstances at first produced a species of proud reserve, amounting to +coldness, in Ferdinand's deportment, which yielded by degrees to the +cordial affection that Edward manifested toward him on every occasion. +Two years older than Edward, of a thoughtful and almost melancholy turn +of mind, Ferdinand soon gained a considerable influence over his weaker +friend, who clung to him with almost girlish dependence. + +Their companionship had now lasted with satisfaction and happiness to +both, for several years, and the youths had formed for themselves the +most delightful plans--how they were never to separate, how they were to +enter the service in the same regiment, and if a war broke out, how they +were to fight side by side and conquer, or die together. But destiny, or +rather Providence, whose plans are usually opposed to the designs of +mortals, had ordained otherwise for the friends than they anticipated. + +Earlier than was expected, Hallberg's father found an opportunity to +have his son appointed to an infantry regiment, and he was ordered +immediately to join the staff in a small provincial town, in an +out-of-the-way mountainous district. This announcement fell like a +thunder-bolt on the two friends; but Ferdinand considered himself by far +the more unhappy, since it was ordained that he should be the one to +sever the happy bond that bound them, and to inflict a deep wound on his +loved companion. His schoolfellows vainly endeavored to console him by +calling his attention to his new commission, and the preference which +had been shown him above so many others. He only thought of the +approaching separation; he only saw his friend's grief, and passed the +few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward's +side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand's society with jealous +care, and could not bear to lose sight of him for an instant. In one of +their most melancholy hours, excited by sorrow and youthful enthusiasm, +they bound themselves by a mysterious vow, namely, that the one whom God +should think fit to call first from this world should bind himself (if +conformable to the Divine will) to give some sign of his remembrance and +affection to the survivor. + +The place where this vow was made was a solitary spot in the garden, by +a monument of gray marble, overshadowed by dark firs, which the former +director of the institution had caused to be erected to the memory of +his son, whose premature death was recorded on the stone. + +Here the friends met at night, and by the fitful light of the moon they +pledged themselves to the rash and fanciful contract, and confirmed and +consecrated it the next morning, by a religious ceremony. After this +they were able to look the approaching separation in the face more +manfully, and Edward strove hard to quell the melancholy feeling which +had lately arisen in his mind on account of the constant foreboding that +Ferdinand expressed of his own early death. "No," thought Edward, "his +pensive turn of mind and his wild imagination cause him to reproach +himself without a cause for my sorrow and his own departure. Oh, no, +Ferdinand will not die early--he will not die before me. Providence will +not leave me alone in the world." + +The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for after Ferdinand's +departure, the house, the world itself, seemed a desert; and absorbed by +his own memories, he now recalled to mind many a dark speech which had +fallen from his absent friend, particularly in the latter days of their +intercourse, and which betokened but too plainly a presentiment of early +death. But time and youth exercised, even over these sorrows, their +irresistible influence. Edward's spirits gradually recovered their tone; +and as the traveler always has the advantage over the one who remains +behind, in respect of new objects to occupy his mind, so was Ferdinand +even sooner calmed and cheered, and by degrees he became engrossed by +his new duties, and new acquaintances, not to the exclusion, indeed, of +his friend's memory, but greatly to the alleviation of his own sorrow. +It was natural, in such circumstances, that the young officer should +console himself sooner than poor Edward. The country in which Hallberg +found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and +peculiarities of "far off" districts--simple, hospitable manners, +old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the +credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean toward the marvelous, +and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings. + +Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with +several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens +in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country +houses in the neighborhood; and the well-mannered, handsome, and +agreeable youth was welcomed every where. The simple, patriarchal life +in these old mansions and castles--the cordiality of the people, the +wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were +entirely to Hallberg's taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode +of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before +half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered +to another station, and he had to part with many friends. The first +letter which he wrote after this change, bore the impression of +impatience at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward found this natural +enough; but he was surprised in the following letters to detect signs +of a disturbed and desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his +friend's nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand's heart was +touched for the first time, and, perhaps, because the impression had +been made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable circumstances opposed +themselves to his hopes: the young lady was of an ancient family, rich, +and betrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was expected +shortly to arrive in order to claim her promised hand. Notwithstanding +this engagement, Ferdinand and the young girl had become sincerely +attached to each other, and had both resolved to dare every thing with +the hope of being united. They pledged their troth in secret; the +darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections; +and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects. +Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not intrust his +whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to +travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible +from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in +question. "You know that I love," he wrote, "therefore you know that the +object of my secret passion is worthy of any sacrifice; for you know +your friend too well to believe him capable of any blind infatuation, +and this must suffice for the present. No one must suspect what we are +to each other; no one here or round the neighborhood must have the +slightest clew to our plans. An awful personage will soon make his +appearance among us. His violent temper, his inveterate obstinacy +(according to all that one hears, of him), are well calculated to +confirm in _her_ a well-founded aversion. But family arrangements and +legal contracts exist, the fulfillment of which the opposing party are +bent on enforcing. The struggle will be hard, perhaps unsuccessful; +notwithstanding, I will strain every nerve. Should I fall, you must +console yourself, my dear Edward, with the thought, that it will be no +misfortune to your friend to be deprived of an existence rendered +miserable by the failure of his dearest hopes, and separation from his +dearest friend. Then may all the happiness which heaven has denied me be +vouchsafed to you and her, so that my spirit may look down contentedly +from the realms of light, and bless and protect you both." + +Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during +that period. His heart was full of anxiety--he read danger and distress +in the mysterious communications of Ferdinand; and every argument that +affection and good sense could suggest aid he make use of, in his +replies, to turn his friend from this path of peril which threatened to +end in a deep abyss. He tried persuasion, and urged him to desist for +the sake of their long-tried affection. But when did passion ever listen +to the expostulations of friendship? + +Ferdinand only saw one aim in life--the possession of the beloved one. +All else faded from before his eyes, and even his correspondence +slackened; for his time, was much taken up in secret excursions, +arrangements of all kinds, and communications with all manner of +persons; in fact every action of his present life tended to the +furtherance of his plan. + +All of a sudden his letters ceased. Many posts passed without a sign of +life. Edward was a prey to the greatest anxiety; he thought his friend +had staked and lost. He imagined an elopement, a clandestine marriage, a +duel with a rival, and all these casualties were the more painful to +conjecture, since his entire ignorance of the real state of things gave +his fancy full range to conjure up all sorts of misfortunes. At length, +after many more posts had come in without a line to pacify Edward's +fears, without a word in reply to his earnest entreaties for some news, +he determined on taking a step which he had meditated before, and only +relinquished out of consideration for his friend's wishes. He wrote to +the officer commanding the regiment, and made inquiries respecting the +health and abode of Lieutenant von Hallberg, whose friends in the +capital had remained for nearly two months without news of him, he who +had hitherto proved a regular and frequent correspondent. + +Another fortnight dragged heavily on, and at length the announcement +came in an official form. Lieutenant von Hallberg had been invited to +the castle of a nobleman whom he was in the custom of visiting, in order +to be present at the wedding of a lady; that he was indisposed at the +time, that he grew worse, and on the third morning had been found dead +in his bed, having expired during the night from an attack of apoplexy. + +Edward could not finish the letter, it fell from his trembling hand. To +see his worst fears realized so suddenly, overwhelmed him at first. His +youth withstood the bodily illness which would have assailed a weaker +constitution, and perhaps mitigated the anguish of his grief. He was not +dangerously, ill, but they feared many days for his reason; and it +required all the kind solicitude of the director of the college, +combined with the most skillful medical aid, to stem the torrent of his +sorrow, and to turn it gradually into a calmer channel, until by degrees +the mourner recovered both health and reason. His youthful spirits, +however, had received a blow from which they never rebounded, and one +thought lay heavy on his mind which he was unwilling to share with any +other person, and which, on that account, grew more and more painful. It +was the memory of that holy promise which had been mutually contracted, +that the survivor was to receive some token of his friend's remembrance +of him after death. Now two months had already passed since Ferdinand's +earthly career had been arrested, his spirit was free, why no sign? In +the moment of death Edward had had no intimation, no message from the +passing spirit, and this apparent neglect, so to speak, was another deep +wound in Edward's breast. Do the affections cease with life? Was it +contrary to the will of the Almighty that the mourner should taste this +consolation? Did individuality lose itself in death and with it memory? +Or did one stroke destroy spirit and body? These anxious doubts, which +have before now agitated many who reflect on such subjects, exercised +their power over Edward's mind with an intensity that none can imagine +save one whose position is in any degree similar. + +Time gradually deadened the intensity of his affliction. The violent +paroxysms of grief subsided into a deep but calm regret; it was as if a +mist had spread itself over every object which presented itself before +him, robbing them indeed of half their charms, yet leaving them visible, +and in their real relation to himself. During this mental change, the +autumn arrived, and with it the long-expected commission. It did not +indeed occasion the joy which it might have done in former days, when it +would have led to a meeting with Ferdinand, or at all events to a better +chance of meeting, but it released him from the thralldom of college, +and it opened to him a welcome sphere of activity. Now it so happened +that his appointment led him accidentally into the very neighborhood +where Ferdinand had formerly resided, only with this difference, that +Edward's squadron was quartered in the lowlands, about a short day's +journey from the town and woodland environs in question. + +He proceeded to his quarters, and found an agreeable occupation in the +exercise of his new duties. + +He had no wish to make acquaintances, yet he did not refuse the +invitations that were pressed upon him, lest he should be accused of +eccentricity and rudeness; and so he found himself soon entangled in all +sorts of engagements with the neighboring gentry and nobility. If these +so-called gayeties gave him no particular pleasure, at least for the +time they diverted his thoughts; and, with this view, he accepted an +invitation (for the new year and carnival were near at hand) to a great +shooting-match which was to be held in the mountains--a spot which it +was possible to reach in one day with favorable weather and the roads in +a good state. The day was appointed, the air tolerably clear; a mild +frost had made the roads safe and even, and Edward had every expectation +of being able to reach Blumenberg in his sledge before night, as on the +following morning the match was to take place. But as soon as he got +near the mountains, where the sun retires so early to rest, snow-clouds +drove from all quarters, a cutting wind came roaring through the +ravines, and a heavy fall of snow began. Twice the driver lost his way, +and daylight was gone before he had well recovered it; darkness came on +sooner than in other places, walled in as they were by dark mountains, +with dark clouds above their heads. It was out of the question to dream +of reaching Blumenberg that night; but in this hospitable land, where +every house-holder welcomes the passing traveler, Edward was under no +anxiety as to shelter. He only wished, before the night quite set in, to +reach some country house or castle; and now that the storm had abated in +some degree, that the heavens were a little clearer, and that a few +stars peeped out, a large valley opened before them, whose bold outline +Edward could distinguish, even in the uncertain light. The well-defined +roofs of a neat village were perceptible, and behind these, half-way up +the mountain that crowned the plain, Edward thought he could discern a +large building which glimmered with more than one light. The road led +straight into the village. Edward stopped and inquired. + +That building was, indeed, a castle; the village belonged to it, and +both were the property of the Baron Friedenberg. "Friedenberg!" repeated +Edward: the name sounded familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind +when and where he had heard it. He inquired if the family were at home, +hired a guide, and arrived at length, by a rugged path which wound +itself round steep rocks, to the summit of them, and finally to the +castle, which was perched there like an eagle's nest. The tinkling of +the bells on Edward's sledge attracted the attention of the inmates; the +door was opened with prompt hospitality--servants appeared with torches; +Edward was assisted to emerge from under the frozen apron of his +carriage, out of his heavy pelisse, stiff with hoar frost, and up a +comfortable staircase into a long saloon of simple construction, where a +genial warmth appeared to welcome him from a spacious stove in the +corner. The servants here placed two large burning candles in massive +silver sconces, and went out to announce the stranger. + +The fitting-up of the room, or rather saloon, was perfectly simple. +Family portraits, in heavy frames, hung round the walls, diversified by +some maps. Magnificent stags' horns were arranged between; and the taste +of the master of the house was easily detected in the hunting-knives, +powder-flasks, carbines, smoking-bags, and sportsmen's pouches, which +were arranged, not without taste, as trophies of the chase. The ceiling +was supported by large beams, dingy with smoke and age; and on the sides +of the room were long benches, covered and padded with dark cloth, and +studded with large brass nails; while round the dinner-table were placed +several arm-chairs, also of an ancient date. All bore the aspect of the +"good old times," of a simple patriarchal life with affluence. Edward +felt as if there were a kind welcome in the inanimate objects which +surrounded him, when the inner door opened, and the master of the house +entered, preceded by a servant, and welcomed his guest with courteous +cordiality. + +Some apologies which Edward offered on account of his intrusion, were +silenced in a moment. + +"Come, now, lieutenant," said the baron, "I must introduce you to my +family. You are no such a stranger to us, as you fancy." + +With these words he took Edward by the arm, and, lighted by the servant, +they passed through several lofty rooms, which were very handsomely +furnished, although in an old-fashioned style, with faded Flemish +carpets, large chandeliers, and high-backed chairs: everything in +keeping with what the youth had already seen in the castle. Here were +the ladies of the house. At the other end of the room, by the side of an +immense stove, ornamented with a large shield of the family arms, richly +emblazoned, and crowned by a gigantic Turk, in a most comfortable +attitude of repose sat the lady of the house, an elderly matron of +tolerable circumference, in a gown of dark red satin, with a black +mantle, and a snow-white lace cap. She appeared to be playing cards with +the chaplain, who sat opposite to her at the table, and the Baron +Friedenberg to have made the third hand at ombre, till he was called +away to welcome his guest. On the other side of the room were two young +ladies, an elder person, who might be a governess, and a couple of +children, very much engrossed by a game at loto. + +As Edward entered, the ladies rose to greet him; a chair was placed for +him near the mistress of the house, and very soon a cup of chocolate and +a bottle of tokay were served on a rich silver salver, to restore the +traveler after the cold and discomfort of his drive; in fact it was easy +for him to feel that these "far-away" people were by no means displeased +at his arrival. An agreeable conversation soon began among all parties. +His travels, the shooting match, the neighborhood, agriculture, all +afforded subjects, and in a quarter of an hour Edward felt as if he had +long been domesticated with these simple but truly well informed people. + +Two hours flew swiftly by, and then a bell sounded for supper; the +servants returned with lights, announced that the supper was on the +table, and lighted the company into the dining-room--the same into which +Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other +characters appeared on the scene--the agent, a couple of subalterns, and +the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward's +place was between the baron and his wife. The chaplain said a short +grace, when the baroness, with an uneasy look, glanced at her husband +over Edward's shoulder, and said, in a low whisper, + + "My love, we are thirteen--that will never do." + +The baron smiled, beckoned to the youngest of the clerks, and whispered +to him. The youth bowed, and withdrew. The servant took the cover away, +and served his supper in the next room. + +"My wife," said Friedenberg, "is superstitious, as all mountaineers are. +She thinks it unlucky to dine thirteen. It certainly has happened twice +(whether from chance or not who can tell?) that we have had to mourn the +death of an acquaintance who had, a short time before, made the +thirteenth at our table." + +"This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the +capital who think with the baroness," said Edward. "Although in a town +such ideas, which belong more especially to the olden time, are more +likely to be lost in the whirl and bustle which usually silences every +thing that is not essentially matter of fact." + +"Ah, yes, lieutenant," replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, "we +keep up old customs better in the mountains. You see that by our +furniture. People in the capital would call this sadly old-fashioned." + +"That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date," +rejoined Edward, courteously; "and here, if I mistake not, presides a +spirit that is ever striving after both. I must confess, baron, that +when I first entered your house, it was this very aspect of the olden +time that enchanted me beyond measure." + +"That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled +mind," answered Friedenberg; "but townspeople have seldom a taste for +such things." + +"I was partly educated on my father's estate," said Edward, "which was +situated in the Highlands; and it appeared to me as if, when I entered +your house, I were visiting a neighbor of my father's, for the general +aspect is quite the same here as with us." + +"Yes," said the chaplain, "mountainous districts have all a family +likeness: the same necessities, the same struggles with nature, the same +seclusion, all produce the same way of life among mountaineers." + +"On that account the prejudice against the number thirteen was +especially familiar to me," replied Edward. "We also dislike it; and we +retain a consideration for many supernatural, or at least inexplicable +things, which I have met with again in this neighborhood." + +"Yes, here, almost more than any where else," continued the chaplain. "I +think we excel all other mountaineers in the number and variety of our +legends and ghost stories. I assure you that there is not a cave, or a +church, or, above all, a castle, for miles round about, of which we +could not relate something supernatural." + +The baroness, who perceived the turn which the conversation was likely +to take, thought it better to send the children to bed; and when they +were gone, the priest continued, "Even here, in this castle--" + +"Here!" inquired Edward, "in this very castle?" + +"Yes, yes, lieutenant!" interposed the baron, "this house has the +reputation of being haunted; and the most extraordinary thing is, that +the matter can not be denied by the skeptical, or accounted for by the +reasonable." + +"And yet," said Edward, "the castle looks so cheerful, so habitable." + +"Yes, this part which we live in," answered the baron; "but it consists +of only a few apartments sufficient for my family and these gentlemen; +the other portion of the building is half in ruins, and dates from the +period when men established themselves on the mountains for greater +safety." + +"There are some who maintain," said the physician, "that a part of the +walls of the eastern tower itself are of Roman origin; but that would +surely be difficult to prove." + +"But, gentlemen," observed the baroness, "you are losing yourselves in +learned descriptions as to the erection of the castle, and our guest is +kept in ignorance of what he is anxious to hear." + +"Indeed, madam," replied the chaplain, "this is not entirely foreign to +the subject, since in the most ancient part of the building lies the +chamber in question." + +"Where apparitions have been seen?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"Not exactly," replied the baroness; "there is nothing fearful to be +seen." + +"Come, let us tell him at once," interrupted the baron. "The fact is, +that every guest who sleeps for the first time in this room (and it has +fallen to the lot of many, in turn, to do so), is visited by some +important, significant dream or vision, or whatever I ought to call it, +in which some future event is prefigured to him, or some past mystery +cleared up, which he had vainly striven to comprehend before." + +"Then," interposed Edward, "it must be something like what is known in +the Highlands under the name of second sight, a privilege, as some +consider it, which several persons and several families enjoy." + +"Just so," said the physician, "the cases are very similar; yet the most +mysterious part of this affair is, that it does not appear to originate +with the individual, or his organization, or his sympathy with beings of +the invisible world; no, the individual has nothing to say to it--the +locality does it all. Every one who sleeps in that room has his +mysterious dream, and the result proves its truth." + +"At least in most instances," continued the baron, "when we have had an +opportunity of hearing the cases confirmed. I remember once in +particular. You may recollect, lieutenant, that when you first came in I +had the honor of telling you, you were not quite a stranger to me." + +"Certainly, baron; and I have been wishing for a long time to ask an +explanation of these words." + +"We have often heard your name mentioned by a particular friend of +yours--one who could never, pronounce it without emotion." + +"Ah!" cried Edward, who now saw clearly why the baron's name had sounded +familiar to him also; "ah! you speak of my friend Hallberg; truly do you +say, we were indeed dear to each other." + +"Were!" echoed the baron, in a faltering tone, as he observed the +sudden change in Edward's voice and countenance; "can the blooming, +vigorous youth be--" + +"Dead!" exclaimed Edward; and the baron deeply regretted that he had +touched so tender a chord, as he saw the young officer's eyes fill with +tears, and a dark cloud pass over his animated features. + +"Forgive me," he continued, while he leaned forward and pressed his +companion's hand; "I grieve that a thoughtless word should have awakened +such deep sorrow. I had no idea of his death; we all loved the handsome +young man, and by his description of you were already much interested in +you before we had ever seen you." + +The conversation now turned entirely on Hallberg. Edward related the +particulars of his death. Every one present had something to say in his +praise; and although this sudden allusion to his dearest friend had +agitated Edward in no slight degree, yet it was a consolation to him to +listen to the tribute these worthy people paid to the memory of +Ferdinand, and to see how genuine was their regret at the tidings of his +early death. The time passed swiftly away in conversation of much +interest, and the whole, company were surprised to hear ten o'clock +strike; an unusually late hour for this quiet, regular family. The +chaplain read prayers, in which Edward devoutly joined, and then he +kissed the matron's hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father's +house. The baron offered to show his guest to his room, and the servant +preceded them with lights. The way led past the staircase, and then on +one side into a long gallery, which communicated with another wing of +the castle. + +The high-vaulted ceilings, the curious carving on the ponderous +doorways, the pointed gothic windows, through many broken panes of which +a sharp night wind whistled, proved to Edward that he was in the old +part of the castle, and that the famous chamber could not be far off. + +"Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there," he began, rather +timidly; "I should like it of all things." + +"Really!" inquired the baron, rather surprised; "have not our ghost +stories alarmed you?" + +"On the contrary," was the reply, "they have excited the most earnest +wish--" + +"Then, if that be the case," said the baron, "we will return. The room +was already prepared for you, being the most comfortable and the best in +the whole wing; only I fancied, after our conversation--" + +"Oh, certainly not," exclaimed Edward; "I could only long for such +dreams." + +During this discourse they had arrived at the door of the famous room. +They went in. They found themselves in a lofty and spacious apartment, +so large that the two candles which the servant carried, only, shed a +glimmering twilight over it, which did not penetrate to the furthest +corner. A high-canopied bed, hung with costly but old-fashioned damask, +of a dark green, in which were swelling pillows of snowy whiteness, tied +with green bows, and a silk coverlet of the same color, looked very +inviting to the tired traveler. Sofa and chairs of faded needlework, a +carved oak commode and table, a looking-glass in heavy framework, a +prie-dieu and crucifix above it, constituted the furniture of the room, +where, above all things, cleanliness and comfort preponderated, while a +good deal of silver plate was spread out on the toilet-table. + +Edward looked round. "A beautiful room!" he said. "Answer me one +question, baron, if you please. Did he ever sleep here?" + +"Certainly," replied Friedenberg; "it was his usual room when he was +here, and he had a most curious dream in that bed, which, as he assured +us, made a great impression on him." + +"And what was it?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"He never told us, for, as you well know, he was reserved by nature; but +we gathered from some words that he let slip, that an early and sudden +death was foretold. Alas! your narrative has confirmed the truth of the +prediction." + +"Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has he +grieved me by alluding to it," said Edward; "yet it never made him +gloomy or discontented. He went on his way firmly and calmly, and looked +forward with joy, I might almost say, to another life." + +"He was a superior man," answered the baron, "whose memory will ever be +dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good-night. Here is the +bell," he showed him the cord in between the curtains; "and your servant +sleeps in the next room." + +"Oh, you are too careful of me," said Edward, smiling; "I am used to +sleep by myself." + +"Still," replied the baron, "every precaution should be taken. Now, once +more, good night." + +He shook him by the hand, and, followed by the servant, left the room. + +Thus Edward found himself alone in the large, mysterious-looking, +haunted room, where his deceased friend had so often reposed--where he +also was expected to see a vision. The awe which the place itself +inspired, combined with the sad and yet tender recollection of the +departed Ferdinand, produced a state of mental excitement which was not +favorable to his night's rest. He had already undressed with the aid of +his servant (whom he had then dismissed), and had been in bed some time, +having extinguished the candles. No sleep visited his eyelids; and the +thought recurred which had so often troubled him, why he had never +received the promised token from Ferdinand, whether his friend's spirit +were among the blest--whether his silence (so to speak) proceeded from +unwillingness or incapacity to communicate with the living. A mingled +train of reflections agitated his mind: his brain grew heated; his +pulse beat faster and faster. The castle clock tolled eleven--half past +eleven. He counted the strokes; and at that moment the moon rose above +the dark margin of the rocks which surrounded the castle, and shed her +full light into Edward's room. Every object stood out in relief from the +darkness. Edward gazed, and thought, and speculated. It seemed to him as +if something moved in the furthest corner of the room. The movement was +evident--it assumed a form--the form of a man, which appeared to +advance, or rather to float forward. Here Edward lost all sense of +surrounding objects, and he found himself once more sitting at the foot +of the monument, in the garden of the academy, where he had contracted +the bond with his friend. As formerly, the moon streamed through the +dark branches of the fir-trees, and shed its cold, pale light on the +cold, white marble of the monument. Then the floating form which had +appeared in the room of the castle became clearer, more substantial, +more earthly-looking; it issued from behind the tombstone, and stood in +the full moonlight. It was Ferdinand, in the uniform of his regiment, +earnest and pale, but with a kind smile on his features. + +"Ferdinand, Ferdinand!" cried Edward, overcome by joy and surprise, and +he strove to embrace the well-loved form, but it waved him aside with a +melancholy look. + +"Ah! you are dead," continued the speaker; "and why then do I see you +just as you looked when living?" + +"Edward," answered the apparition, in a voice that sounded as if it came +from afar, "I am dead, but my spirit has no peace." + +"You are not with the blest?" cried Edward, in a voice of terror. + +"God is merciful," it replied; "but we are frail and sinful creatures; +inquire no more, but pray for me." + +"With all my heart," cried Edward, in a tone of anguish, while he gazed +with affection on the familiar features; "but speak, what can I do for +thee?" + +"An unholy tie still binds me to earth. I have sinned. I was cut off in +the midst of my sinful projects. This ring burns." He slipped a small +gold ring from his left hand. "Only when every token of this unholy +compact is destroyed, and when I recover the ring which I exchanged for +this, only then can my spirit be at rest. Oh, Edward, dear Edward, bring +me back my ring!" + +"With joy--but where, where am I to seek it?" + +"Emily Varnier will give it thee herself; our engagement was contrary to +holy duties, to prior engagements, to earlier vows. God denied his +blessing to the guilty project, and my course was arrested in a fearful +manner. Pray for me, Edward, and bring back the ring, my ring," +continued the voice, in a mournful tone of appeal. + +Then the features of the deceased smiled sadly but tenderly; then all +appeared to float once more before Edward's eyes--the form was lost in +mist, the monument, the fir grove, the moonlight, disappeared: a long, +gloomy, breathless pause followed. Edward lay, half sleeping, half +benumbed, in a confused manner; portions of the dream returned to +him--some images, some sounds--above all, the petition for the +restitution of the ring. But an indescribable power bound his limbs, +closed his eyelids, and silenced his voice; mental consciousness alone +was left him, yet his mind was a prey to terror. + +At length these painful sensations subsided--his nerves became more +braced, his breath came more freely, a pleasing languor crept over his +limbs, and he fell into a peaceful sleep. When he awoke it was already +broad daylight; his sleep toward the end of the night had been quiet and +refreshing. He felt strong and well, but as soon as the recollection of +his dream returned, a deep melancholy took possession of him, and he +felt the traces of tears which grief had wrung from him on his +eyelashes. But what had the vision been? A mere dream engendered by the +conversation of the evening, and his affection for Hallberg's memory, or +was it at length the fulfillment of the compact? + +There, out of that dark corner, had the form risen up, and moved toward +him. But might it not have been some effect of light and shade produced +by the moonbeams, and the dark branches of a large tree close to the +window, when agitated by the high wind? Perhaps he had seen this, and +then fallen asleep, and all combined had woven itself into a dream. But +the name of Emily Varnier! Edward did not remember ever to have heard +it; certainly it had never been mentioned in Ferdinand's letters. Could +it be the name of his love, of the object of that ardent and unfortunate +passion? Could the vision be one of truth? He was meditating, lost in +thought, when there was a knock at his door, and the servant entered. +Edward rose hastily, and sprang out of bed. As he did so, he heard +something fall with a ringing sound; the servant stooped and picked up a +gold ring, plain gold, like a wedding-ring. Edward shuddered; he +snatched it from the servant's hand, and the color forsook his cheeks as +he read the two words "Emily Varnier" engraved inside the hoop. He stood +there like one thunderstruck, as pale as a corpse, with the proof in his +hand that he had not merely dreamed, but had actually spoken with the +spirit of his friend. A servant of the household came in to ask whether +the lieutenant wished to breakfast in his room, or down stairs with the +family. Edward would willingly have remained alone with the thoughts +that pressed heavily on him, but a secret dread lest his absence should +be remarked, and considered as a proof of fear, after all that had +passed on the subject of the haunted room, determined him to accept the +last proposal. He dressed hastily, and arranged his hair carefully, but +the paleness of his face and the traces of tears in his eyes, were not +to be concealed, and he entered the saloon, where the family were +already assembled at the breakfast-table, with the chaplain and the +doctor. + +The baron rose to greet him; one glance at the young officer's face was +sufficient; he pressed his hand in silence, and led him to a place by +the side of the baroness. An animated discussion now began concerning +the weather, which was completely changed; a strong south wind had risen +in the night, so there was now a thaw. The snow was all melted--the +torrents were flowing once more, and the roads impassable. + +"How can you possibly reach Blumenberg, to-day?" the baron inquired of +his guest. + +"That will be well nigh impossible," said the doctor. "I am just come +from a patient at the next village, and I was nearly an hour performing +the same distance in a carriage that is usually traversed on foot in a +quarter of an hour." + +Edward had not given a thought this morning to the shooting-match. Now +that it had occurred to him to remember it, he felt little regret at +being detained from a scene of noisy festivity which, far from being +desirable, appeared to him actually distasteful in his present frame of +mind. Yet he was troubled, by the thought of intruding too long on the +hospitality of his new friends; and he said, in a hesitating manner, + + "Yes! but I must try how far---" + +"That you shall not do," interrupted the baron. "The road is always bad, +and in a thaw it is really dangerous. It would go against my conscience +to allow you to risk it. Remain with us; we have no shooting-match or +ball to offer you, but--" + +"I shall not certainly regret either," cried Edward, eagerly. + +"Well, then, remain with us, lieutenant," said the matron, lying her +hand on his arm, with a kind, maternal gesture. "You are heartily +welcome; and the longer you stay with us, the better shall we be +pleased." + +The youth bowed, and raised the lady's hand to his lips, and said, + +"If you will allow me--if you feel certain that I am not intruding--I +will accept, your kind offer with joy. I never care much for a ball, at +any time, and to-day in particular--" he stopped short, and then added, +"In such bad weather as this, the small amusement--" + +"Would be dearly bought," interposed the baron. "Come, I am delighted +you will remain with us." + +He shook Edward warmly by the hand. + +"You know you are with old friends." + +"And, besides," said the doctor, with disinterested solicitude, "it +would be imprudent, for M. de Wensleben does not look very well. Had you +a good night, sir?" + +"Very good," replied Edward. + +"Without much dreaming?" continued the other, pertinaciously + +"Dreaming! oh, nothing wonderful," answered the officer. + +"Hem!" said the doctor, shaking his head, portentously. "No one yet--" + +"Were I to relate my dream," replied Edward, "you would understand it no +more than I did. Confused images--" + +The baroness, who saw the youth's unwillingness to enlarge upon the +subject, here observed, + +"That some of the visions had been of no great importance--those which +she had heard related, at least." + +The chaplain led the conversation from dreams themselves, to their +origin, on which subject he and the doctor could not agree; and Edward +and his visions were left in peace at last. But when every one had +departed, each to his daily occupation, Edward followed the baron into +his library. + +"I answered in that manner," he said, "to get rid of the doctor and his +questioning. To you I will confess the truth. Your room has exercised +its mysterious influence over me." + +"Indeed!" said the baron, eagerly. + +"I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his +death. I will trust to your kindness--your sympathy--not to require of +me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put +to you." + +"Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible." + +"Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?" + +"Varnier!--certainly not." + +"Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?" + +"No one; it sounds like a foreign name." + +"In the bed in which I slept I found this ring," said Edward, while he +produced it; and the apparition of my friend pronounced that name. + +"Wonderful! As I tell you, I know no one so called--this is the first +time I ever heard the name. But it is entirely unaccountable to me, how +the ring should have come into that bed. You see, M. von Wensleben, what +I told you is true. There is something very peculiar about that room; +the moment you entered, I saw that the spell had been working on you +also, but I did not wish to forestall or force your confidence." + +"I felt the delicacy, as I do now the kindness, of your intentions. +Those who are as sad as I am can alone tell the value of tenderness and +sympathy." + +Edward remained this day and the following at the castle, and felt quite +at home with its worthy inmates. He slept twice in the haunted room. He +went away, and came back often; was always welcomed cordially, and +always quartered in the same apartment. But, in spite of all this, he +had no clew, he had no means of lifting the vail of mystery which hung +round the fate of Ferdinand Hallberg and of Emily Varnier. + + +PART II.--CONCLUSION. + +Several weeks passed away. Edward spared no pains to discover some trace +of the lady in question, but all in vain. No one in the neighborhood +knew the family; and he had already determined, as soon as the spring +began, to ask for leave of absence, and to travel through the country +where Ferdinand had formed his unfortunate attachment, when a +circumstance occurred which coincided strangely with his wishes. His +commanding officer gave him a commission to purchase some horses, which, +to his great consolation, led him exactly into that part of the country +where Ferdinand had been quartered. It was a market-town of some +importance. He was to remain there some time, which suited his plans +exactly; and he made use of every leisure hour to cultivate the +acquaintance of the officers, to inquire into Ferdinand's connections +and acquaintance, to trace the mysterious name if possible, and thus +fulfill a sacred duty. For to him it appeared a sacred duty to execute +the commission of his departed friend--to get possession of the ring, +and to be the means, as he hoped, of giving rest to the troubled spirit +of Ferdinand. + +Already, on the evening of the second day, he was sitting in the +coffee-room with burghers of the place and officers of different +regiments. A newly-arrived cornet was inquiring whether the neighborhood +were a pleasant one, of an infantry officer, one of Hallberg's corps. +"For," said he, "I come from charming quarters." + +"There is not much to boast of," replied the captain. "There is no good +fellowship, no harmony among the people." + +"I will tell you why that is," cried an animated lieutenant; "that is +because there is no house as a point of reunion, where one is sure to +find and make acquaintances, and to be amused, and where each individual +ascertains his own merits by the effect they produce on society at +large." + +"Yes, we have had nothing of that kind since the Varniers left us," said +the captain. + +"Varniers!" cried Edward, with an eagerness he could ill conceal. "The +name sounds foreign." + +"They were not Germans--they were emigrants from the Netherlands, who +had left their country on account of political troubles," replied the +captain. + +"Ah, that was a charming house," cried the lieutenant, "cultivation, +refinement, a sufficient competency, the whole style of the +establishment free from ostentation, yet most comfortable; and +Emily--Emily was the soul of the whole house." + +"Emily Varnier!" echoed Edward, while his heart beat fast and loud. + +"Yes, yes! that was the name of the prettiest, most graceful, most +amiable girl in the world," said the lieutenant. + +"You seem bewitched by the fair Emily," observed the cornet. + +"I think you would have been too, had you known her;" rejoined the +lieutenant; "she was the jewel of the whole society. Since she went away +there is no bearing their stupid balls and assemblies." + +"But you must not forget," the captain resumed once more, "when you +attribute every thing to the charms of the fair girl, that not only she +but the whole family has disappeared, and we have lost that house which +formed, as you say, so charming a point of reunion in our neighborhood." + +"Yes, yes; exactly so," said an old gentleman, a civilian, who had been +silent hitherto; "the Varniers' house is a great loss in the country, +where such losses are not so easily replaced as in a large town. First, +the father died, then came the cousin and carried the daughter away." + +"And did this cousin marry the young lady?" inquired Edward, in a tone +tremulous with agitation. + +"Certainly," answered the old gentleman; "it was a very great match for +her; he bought land to the value of half a million about here." + +"And he was an agreeable, handsome man, we must all allow," remarked the +captain. + +"But she would never have married him," exclaimed the lieutenant, "if +poor Hallberg had not died." + +Edward was breathless, but he did not speak a word. + +"She would have been compelled to do so in any case," said the old man; +"the father had destined them for each other from infancy, and people +say he made his daughter take a vow as he lay on his death-bed." + +"That sounds terrible," said Edward; "and does not speak much for the +good feeling of the cousin." + +"She could not have fulfilled her father's wish," interposed the +lieutenant; "her heart was bound up in Hallberg, and Hallberg's in her. +Few people, perhaps, knew this, for the lovers were prudent and +discreet; I, however, knew it all." + +"And why was she not allowed to follow the inclination of her heart?" +asked Edward. + +"Because her father had promised her," replied the captain: "you used +just now the word terrible; it is a fitting expression, according to my +version of the matter. It appears that one of the branches of the house +of Varnier had committed an act of injustice toward another, and Emily's +father considered it a point of conscience to make reparation. Only +through the marriage of his daughter with a member of the ill-used +branch could that act be obliterated and made up for, and, therefore, he +pressed the matter sorely." + +"Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with +abetted his designs." + +"Then her cousin loved Emily?" inquired Edward. + +"Oh, to desperation," was the reply; "He was a rival to her shadow, who +followed her not more closely than he did. He was jealous of the rose +that she placed on her bosom." + +"Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man," +said Edward. + +"Come," interposed the old gentleman, with an authoritative tone, "I +think you, gentlemen, go a little too far. I know D'Effernay; he is an +honest, talented man, very rich, indeed, and generous; he anticipates +his wife in every wish. She has the most brilliant house in the +neighborhood, and lives like a princess." + +"And trembles," insisted the lieutenant, "when she hears her husband's +footstep. What good can riches be to her? She would have been happier +with Hallberg." + +"I do not know," rejoined the captain, "why you always looked upon that +attachment as something so decided. It never appeared so to me; and you +yourself say that D'Effernay is very jealous, which I believe him to be, +for he is a man of strong passions; and this very circumstance causes me +to doubt the rest of your story. Jealousy has sharp eyes, and D'Effernay +would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the +friend he always was to our poor comrade." + +"That does not follow at all," rejoined the lieutenant, "it only proves +that the lovers were very cautious. So far, however, I agree with you. I +believe that if D'Effernay had suspected any thing of the kind he would +have murdered Hallberg." + +A shudder passed through Edward's veins. + +"Murdered!" he repeated in a hollow voice; "do you not judge too harshly +of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?" + +"That does he, indeed," said the old man; "these gentlemen are all angry +with D'Effernay, because he has carried off the prettiest girl in the +country. But I am told he does not intend remaining where he now lives. +He wishes to sell his estates." + +"Really," inquired the captain, "and where is he going?" + +"I have no idea," replied the other; "but he is selling every thing off. +One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in +negotiation for the place where he resides." + +The conversation now turned on the value of D'Effernay's property, and +of land in general, &c. + +Edward had gained materials enough for reflection; he rose soon, took +leave of the company, and gave himself up, in the solitude of his own +room, to the torrent of thought and feeling which that night's +conversation had let loose. So, then, it was true; Emily Varnier was no +fabulous being! Hallberg had loved her, his love had been returned, but +a cruel destiny had separated them. How wonderfully did all he had heard +explain the dream at the Castle, and how completely did that supply what +had remained doubtful, or had been omitted in the officer's narrative. +Emily Varnier, doubtless, possessed that ring, to gain possession of +which now seemed his bounden duty. He resolved not to delay its +fulfillment a moment, however difficult it might prove, and he only +reflected on the best manner in which he should perform the task +allotted to him. The sale of the property appeared to him a favorable +opening. The fame of his father's wealth made it probable that the son +might wish to be a purchaser of a fine estate, like the one in question. +He spoke openly of such a project, made inquiries of the old gentleman, +and the captain, who seemed to him to know most about the matter; and as +his duties permitted a trip for a week or so, he started immediately, +and arrived on the second day at the place of his destination. He +stopped in the public house in the village to inquire if the estate lay +near, and whether visitors were allowed to see the house and grounds. +Mine host, who doubtless had had his directions, sent a messenger +immediately to the Castle, who returned before long, accompanied by a +chasseur, in a splendid livery, who invited the stranger to the Castle +in the name of M. D'Effernay. + +This was exactly what Edward wished, and expected. Escorted by the +chasseur he soon arrived at the Castle, and was shown up a spacious +staircase into a modern, almost, one might say, a +magnificently-furnished room, where the master of the house received +him. It was evening, toward the end of winter, the shades of twilight +had already fallen, and Edward found himself suddenly in a room quite +illuminated with wax candles. D'Effernay stood in the middle of the +saloon, a tall, thin young man. A proud bearing seemed to bespeak a +consciousness of his own merit, or at least of his position. His +features were finely formed, but the traces of stormy passion, or of +internal discontent, had lined them prematurely. + +In figure he was very slender, and the deep sunken eye, the gloomy frown +which was fixed between his brows, and the thin lips, had no very +prepossessing expression, and yet there was something imposing in the +whole appearance of the man. + +Edward thanked him civilly for his invitation, spoke of his idea of +being a purchaser as a motive for his visit, and gave his own, and his +father's name. D'Effernay seemed pleased with all he said. He had known +Edward's family in the metropolis; he regretted that the late hour would +render it impossible for them to visit the property to-day, and +concluded by pressing the lieutenant to pass the night at the Castle. On +the morrow they would proceed to business, and now he would have the +pleasure of presenting his wife to the visitor. Edward's heart beat +violently--at length then he would see her! Had he loved her himself he +could not have gone to meet her with more agitation. D'Effernay led his +guest through many rooms, which were all as well furnished, and as +brilliantly lighted, as the first he had entered. At length he opened +the door of a small boudoir, where there was no light, save that which +the faint, gray twilight imparted through the windows. + +The simple arrangement of this little room, with dark green walls, only +relieved by some engravings and coats of arms, formed a pleasing +contrast to Edward's eyes, after the glaring splendor of the other +apartments. From behind a piano-forte, at which she had been seated in a +recess, rose a tall, slender female form, in a white dress of extreme +simplicity. + +"My love," said D'Effernay, "I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant +Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate." + +Emily courtesied; the friendly twilight concealed the shudder that +passed over her whole frame, as she heard the familiar name which +aroused so many recollections. + +She bade the stranger welcome, in a low, sweet voice, whose tremulous +accents were not unobserved by Edward; and while the husband made some +further observation, he had leisure to remark, as well as the fading +light would allow, the fair outline of her oval face, the modest grace +of her movements, her pretty nymph-like figure--in fact, all those +charms which seemed familiar to him through the impassioned descriptions +of his friend. + +"But what can this fancy be, to sit in the dark?" asked D'Effernay, in +no mild tone; "you know that is a thing I can not bear:" and with these +words, and without waiting his wife's answer, he rang the bell over her +sofa, and ordered lights. + +While these were placed on the table, the company sat down by the fire, +and conversation commenced. By the full light Edward could perceive all +Emily's real beauty--her pale, but lovely face, the sad expression of +her large blue eyes, so often concealed by their dark lashes, and then +raised, with a look full of feeling, a sad, pensive, intellectual +expression; and he admired the simplicity of her dress, and of every +object that surrounded her: all appeared to him to bespeak a superior +mind. + +They had not sat long, before D'Effernay was called away. One of his +people had something important, something urgent to communicate to him, +which admitted of no delay. A look of fierce anger almost distorted his +features; in an instant his thin lips moved rapidly, and Edward thought +he muttered some curses between his teeth. He left the room, but in so +doing, he cast a glance of mistrust and ill-temper on the handsome +stranger with whom he was compelled to leave his wife alone. Edward +observed it all. All that he had seen to-day--all that he had heard from +his comrades of the man's passionate and suspicious disposition, +convinced him that his stay here would not be long, and that, perhaps, a +second opportunity of speaking alone with Emily might not offer itself. + +He determined, therefore, to profit by the present moment: and no sooner +had D'Effernay left the room, than he began to tell Emily she was not so +complete a stranger to him as it might seem; that long before he had had +the pleasure of seeing her--even before he had heard her name--she was +known to him, so to speak, in spirit. + +Madame D'Effernay was moved. She was silent for a time, and gazed +fixedly on the ground; then she looked up; the mist of unshed tears +dimmed her blue eyes, and her bosom heaved with the sigh she could not +suppress. + +"To me also the name of Wensleben is familiar. There is a link between +our souls. Your friend has often spoken of you to me." + +But she could say no more; tears checked her speech. + +Edward's eyes were glistening also, and the two companions were silent; +at length he began once more: + +"My dear lady," he said, "my time is short, and I have a solemn message +to deliver to you. Will you allow me to do so now?" + +"To me?" she asked, in a tone of astonishment. + +"From my departed friend," answered Edward, emphatically. + +"From Ferdinand? and that now--after--" she shrunk back, as if in +terror. + +"Now that he is no longer with us, do you mean? I found the message in +his papers, which have been intrusted to me only lately, since I have +been in the neighborhood. Among them was a token which I was to restore +to you." He produced the ring. Emily seized it wildly, and trembled as +she looked upon it. + +"It is indeed my ring," she said at length, "the same which I gave him +when we plighted our troth in secret. You are acquainted with every +thing, I perceive; I shall therefore risk nothing if I speak openly." +She wept, and pressed the ring to her lips. + +"I see that my friend's memory is dear to you," continued Edward. "You +will forgive the prayer I am about to make to you; my visit to you +concerns his ring." + +"How--what is it you wish?" cried Emily, terrified. + +"It was _his_ wish," replied Edward. "He evinced an earnest desire to +have this pledge of an unfortunate and unfulfilled engagement restored." + +"How is that possible? You did not speak with him before his death; and +this happened so suddenly after, that, to give you the commission--" + +"There was no time for it! that is true," answered Edward, with an +inward, shudder, although outwardly he was calm. "Perhaps this wish was +awakened immediately before his death. I found it, as I told you, +expressed in those papers." + +"Incomprehensible!" she exclaimed. "Only a short time before his death, +we cherished--deceitful, indeed, they proved, but, oh, what blessed +hopes!--we reckoned on casualties, on what might possibly occur to +assist us. Neither of us could endure to dwell on the idea of +separation; and yet--yet since--Oh, my God!" she cried, overcome by +sorrow, and she hid her face between her hands. Edward was lost in +confused thought. For a time both again were silent; at length Emily +started up-- + +"Forgive me, M. de Wensleben. What you have related to me, what you have +asked of me, has produced so much excitement, so much agitation, that it +is necessary that I should be alone for a few moments, to recover my +composure." + +"I am gone," cried Edward, springing from his chair. + +"No! no!" she replied, "you are my guest; remain here. I have a +household duty which calls me away." She laid a stress on these words. + +She leant forward, and with a sad, sweet smile, she gave her hand to the +friend of her lost Ferdinand, pressing his gently, and disappeared +through the inner door. + +Edward stood stunned, bewildered; then he paced the room with hasty +steps, threw himself on the sofa, and took up one of the books that lay +on the table, rather to have something in his hand, than to read. It +proved to be Young's "Night Thoughts." He looked through it, and was +attracted by many passages, which seemed, in his present frame of mind, +fraught with peculiar meaning; yet his thoughts wandered constantly from +the page to his dead friend. The candles, unheeded both by Emily and +him, burned on with long wicks, giving little light in the silent room, +over which the red glare from the hearth shed a lurid glow. Hurried +footsteps sounded in the ante-room; the door was thrown open. Edward +looked up, and saw D'Effernay staring at him, and round the room, in an +angry, restless manner. + +Edward could not but think there was something almost unearthly in those +dark looks and that towering form. + +"Where is my wife?" was D'Effernay's first question. + +"She is gone to fulfill some household duty," replied the other. + +"And leaves you here alone in this miserable darkness? Most +extraordinary!--indeed, most unaccountable!" and, as he spoke, he +approached the table and snuffed the candles, with a movement of +impatience. + +"She left me here with old friends," said Edward, with a forced smile. +"I have been reading." + +"What, in the dark?" inquired D'Effernay, with a look of distrust. "It +was so dark when I came in, that you could not possibly have +distinguished a letter." + +"I read for some time, and then I fell into a train of thought, which is +usually the result of reading Young's "Night Thoughts." + +"Young! I can not bear that author. He is so gloomy." + +"But you are fortunately so happy, that the lamentations of the lonely +mourner can find no echo in your breast." + +"You think so!" said D'Effernay, in a churlish tone, and he pressed his +lips together tightly, as Emily came into the room: he went to meet +her. + +"You have been a long time away," was his observation, as he looked into +her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. "I found +our guest alone." + +"M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me," she replied, "and then I +thought you would be back immediately." + +They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared to +be forgotten. + +The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw that +Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to pacify her +husband's ill humor. + +In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were +successful. D'Effernay became more cheerful; the conversation more +animated; and Edward found that his host could be a very agreeable +member of society when he pleased, combining a good deal of information +with great natural powers. The evening passed away more pleasantly than +it promised at one time; and after an excellent and well-served supper, +the young officer was shown into a comfortable room, fitted up with +every modern luxury; and weary in mind and body, he soon fell asleep. He +dreamed of all that had occupied his waking thoughts--of his friend, and +his friend's history. + +But in that species of confusion which often characterizes dreams, he +fancied that he was Ferdinand, or at least, his own individuality seemed +mixed up with that of Hallberg. He felt that he was ill. He lay in an +unknown room, and by his bedside stood a small table, covered with +glasses and phials, containing medicine, as is usual in a sick room. + +The door opened, and D'Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as if he +had just left his bed: and now in Edward's mind dreams and realities +were mingled together, and he thought that D'Effernay came, perhaps, to +speak with him on the occurrences of the preceding day. But no! he +approached the table on which the medicines stood, looked at the watch, +took up one of the phials and a cup, measured the draught, drop by drop, +then he turned and looked round him stealthily, and then he drew from +his breast a pale blue, coiling serpent, which he threw into the cup, +and held it to the patient's lips, who drank, and instantly felt, a +numbness creep over his frame which ended in death. Edward fancied that +he was dead; he saw the coffin brought, but the terror lest he should be +buried alive, made him start up with a sudden effort, and he opened his +eyes. + +The dream had passed away; he sat in his bed safe and well; but it was +long ere he could in any degree recover his composure, or get rid of the +impression which the frightful apparition had made on him. They brought +his breakfast, with a message from the master of the house to inquire +whether he would like to visit the park, farms, &c. He dressed quickly, +and descended to the court, where he found his host in a riding-dress, +by the side of two fine horses, already saddled. D'Effernay greeted the +young man courteously; but Edward felt an inward repugnance as he looked +on that gloomy though handsome countenance, now lighted up by the beams +of the morning sun, yet recalling vividly the dark visions of the night. +D'Effernay was full of attentions to his new friend. They started on +their ride, in spite of some threatening clouds, and began the +inspection of meadows, shrubberies, farms, &c., &c. After a couple of +hours, which were consumed in this manner, it began to rain a few drops, +and at last burst out into a heavy shower. It was soon impossible even +to ride through the woods for the torrents that were pouring down, and +so they returned to the castle. + +Edward retired to his room to change his dress, and to write some +letters, he said, but more particularly to avoid Emily, in order not to +excite her husband's jealousy. As the bell rang for dinner he saw her +again, and found to his surprise that the captain, whom he had first +seen in the coffee-room, and who had given him so much information, was +one of the party. He was much pleased, for they had taken a mutual fancy +to each other. The captain was not at quarters the day Edward had left +them, but as soon as he heard where his friend had gone, he put horses +to his carriage and followed him, for he said he also should like to see +these famous estates. D'Effernay seemed in high good humor to-day, Emily +far more silent than yesterday, and taking little part in the +conversation of the men, which turned on political economy. After coffee +she found an opportunity to give Edward (unobserved) a little packet. +The look with which she did so, told plainly what it contained, and the +young man hurried to his room as soon as he fancied he could do so +without remark or comment. The continued rain precluded all idea of +leaving the house any more that day. He unfolded the packet; there were +a couple of sheets, written closely in a woman's fair hand, and +something wrapped carefully in a paper, which he knew to be the ring. It +was the fellow to that which he had given the day before to Emily, only +Ferdinand's name was engraved inside instead of hers. Such were the +contents of the papers: + +"Secrecy would be misplaced with the friend of the dead. Therefore will +I speak to you of things which I have never uttered to a human being +until now. Jules D'Effernay is nearly related to me. We knew each other +in the Netherlands, where our estates joined. The boy loved me already +with a love that amounted to passion; this love was my father's greatest +joy, for there was an old and crying injustice which the ancestors of +D'Effernay had suffered from ours, that could alone, he thought, be made +up by the marriage of the only children of the two branches. So we were +destined for each other almost from our cradles; and I was content it +should be so, for Jules's handsome face and decided preference for me +were agreeable to me, although I felt no great affection for him. We +were separated: Jules traveled in France, England, and America, and made +money as a merchant, which profession he had taken up suddenly. My +father, who had a place under government, left his country in +consequence of political troubles, and came into this part of the world, +where some distant relations of my mother's lived. He liked the +neighborhood; he bought land; we lived very happily; I was quite +contented in Jules's absence; I had no yearning of the heart toward him, +yet I thought kindly of him, and troubled myself little about my future. +Then--then I learned to know your friend. Oh, then! I felt, when I +looked upon him, when I listened to him, when we conversed together, I +felt, I acknowledged, that there might be happiness on earth of which I +had hitherto never dreamed. Then I loved for the first time, ardently, +passionately, and was beloved in return. Acquainted with the family +engagements; he did not dare openly to proclaim his love, and I knew I +ought not to foster the feeling; but, alas! how seldom does passion +listen to the voice of reason and of duty. Your friend and I met in +secret; in secret we plighted our troth, and exchanged those rings, and +hoped and believed that by showing a bold front to our destiny we should +subdue it to our will. The commencement was sinful, it has met with a +dire retribution. Jules's letters announced his speedy return. He had +sold every thing in his own country, had given up all his mercantile +affairs, through which he had greatly increased an already considerable +fortune, and now he was about to join us, or rather me, without whom he +could not live. This appeared to me like the demand for payment of a +heavy debt. This debt I owed to Jules, who loved me with all his heart, +who was in possession of my father's promised word and mine also. Yet I +could not give up your friend. In a state of distraction I told him all; +we meditated flight. Yes, I was so far guilty, and I make the confession +in hopes that some portion of my errors may be expiated by repentance. +My father, who had long been in a declining state, suddenly grew worse, +and this delayed and hindered the fulfillment of our designs. Jules +arrived. During the five years he had been away he was much changed in +appearance, and that advantageously. I was struck when I first saw him, +but it was also easy to detect in those handsome features and manly +bearing, a spirit of restlessness and violence which had already shown +itself in him as a boy, and which passing years, with their bitter +experience and strong passions, had greatly developed. The hope that we +had cherished of D'Effernay's possible indifference to me, of the change +which time might have wrought in his attachment, now seemed idle and +absurd. His love was indeed impassioned. He embraced me in a manner that +made me shrink from him, and altogether his deportment toward me was a +strange contrast to the gentle, tender, refined affection of our dear +friend. I trembled whenever Jules entered the room, and all that I had +prepared to say to him, all the plans which I had revolved in my mind +respecting him, vanished in an instant before the power of his presence, +and the almost imperative manner in which he claimed my hand. My +father's illness increased; he was now in a very precarious state, +hopeless indeed. Jules rivaled me in filial attentions to him, that I +can never cease to thank him for; but this illness made my situation +more and more critical, and it accelerated the fulfillment of the +contract. I was to renew my promise to him by the death-bed of my +father. Alas, alas! I fell senseless to the ground when this +announcement was made to me. Jules began to suspect. Already my cold, +embarrassed manner toward him since his return had struck him as +strange. He began to suspect, I repeat, and the effect that this +suspicion had on him, it would be impossible to describe to you. Even +now, after so long a time, now that I am accustomed to his ways, and +more reconciled to my fate by the side of a noble, though somewhat +impetuous man, it makes me tremble to think of those paroxysms, which +the idea that I did not love him called forth. They were fearful; he +nearly sank under them. During two days his life was in danger. At last +the storm passed, my father died; Jules watched over me with the +tenderness of a brother, the solicitude of a parent; for that indeed I +shall ever be grateful. His suspicion once awakened, he gazed round with +penetrating looks to discover the cause of my altered feelings. But your +friend never came to our house; we met in an unfrequented spot, and my +father's illness had interrupted these interviews. Altogether I can not +tell if Jules discovered any thing. A fearful circumstance rendered all +our precautions useless, and cut the knot of our secret connection, to +loose which voluntarily I felt I had no power. A wedding-feast, at a +neighboring castle, assembled all the nobility and gentry, and officers +quartered near, together; my deep mourning was an excuse for my absence. +Jules, though he usually was happiest by my side, could not resist the +invitation, and your friend resolved to go, although he was unwell; he +feared to raise suspicion by remaining away, when I was left at home. +With great difficulty he contrived the first day to make one at a +splendid hunt, the second day he could not leave his bed. A physician, +who was in the house, pronounced his complaint to be violent fever, and +Jules, whose room joined that of the sick man, offered him every little +service and kindness which compassion and good feeling prompted; and I +can not but praise him all the more for it, as who can tell, perhaps, +his suspicion might have taken the right direction? On the morning of +the second day--but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the +memory of which can never pass from my mind--a fit of apoplexy most +unexpectedly, but gently, ended the noblest life, and separated us +forever! Now you know all. I inclose the ring. I can not write more. +Farewell!" + +The conclusion of the letter made a deep impression on Edward. His dream +rose up before his remembrance, the slight indisposition, the sudden +death, the fearful nurse-tender, all arranged themselves in order before +his mind, and an awful whole rose out of all these reflections, a +terrible suspicion which he tried to throw off. But he could not do so, +and when he met the captain and D'Effernay in the evening, and the +latter challenged his visitors to a game of billiards, Edward glanced +from time to time at his host in a scrutinizing manner, and could not +but feel that the restless discontent which was visible in his +countenance, and the unsteady glare of his eyes, which shunned the fixed +look of others, only fitted too well into the shape of the dark thoughts +which were crossing his own mind. Late in the evening, after supper, +they played whist in Emily's boudoir. On the morrow, if the weather +permitted, they were to conclude their inspection of the surrounding +property, and the next day they were to visit the iron foundries, which, +although distant from the castle several miles, formed a very important +item in the rent-roll of the estates. The company separated for the +night. Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same +circumstances, recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick +man was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror took +possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular Communication +with the beings of the invisible world. + +The weather favored D'Effernay's projects. The whole day was passed in +the open air. Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when they +played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual consent, +every word, every look that could awaken the slightest suspicion, or +jealous feeling in D'Effernay's mind. She thanked him in her heart for +this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another world; she took +little heed of what passed around her. Her husband was in an excelled +temper; he played the part of host to perfection and when the two +officers were established comfortably by the fire, in the captain's +room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his courteous +manners. + +"He appears to be a man of general information," remarked Edward. + +"He has traveled a great deal, and read a great deal, as I told you when +we first met; he is a remarkable man, but one of uncontrolled passions, +and desperately jealous." + +"Yet he appears very attentive to his wife." + +"Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy, +and himself too." + +"He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness." + +"He can never bear to remain in one place for any length of time +together. He is now going to sell the property he only bought last +year. There is an instability about him; every thing palls on him." + +"That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the +world." + +"Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me +that man must have a bad conscience." + +"What an idea!" rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the captain's +remark struck him forcibly. "He seems a man of honor." + +"Oh, one may be a man of honor, as it is called, and yet have something +quite bad enough to reproach yourself with. But I know nothing about it, +and would not breathe such a thing except to you. His wife, too, looks +so pale and so oppressed." + +"But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression." + +"Oh, no! no! the year before D'Effernay came from Paris, she was as +fresh as a rose. Many people declare that your poor friend loved her. +The affair was wrapped in mystery, and I never believed the report, for +Hallberg was a steady man, and the whole country knew that Emily had +been engaged a long time." + +"Hallberg never mentioned the name in his letters," answered Edward, +with less candor than usual. + +"I thought not. Besides D'Effernay was very much attached to him, and +mourned his death." + +"Indeed!" + +"I assure you the morning that Hallberg was found dead in his bed so +unexpectedly, D'Effernay was like one beside himself." + +"Very extraordinary. But as we are on the subject, tell me, I pray you, +all the circumstances of my poor Ferdinand's illness, and awfully sudden +death." + +"I can tell you all about it, as well as any one, for I was one of the +guests at that melancholy wedding. Your friend, and I, and many others +were invited. Hallberg had some idea of not going; he was unwell, with +violent headache and giddiness. But we persuaded him, and he consented +to go with us. The first day he felt tolerably well. We hunted in the +open field; we were all on horseback, the day hot. Hallberg felt worse. +The second day he had a great deal of fever; he could not stay up. The +physician (for fortunately there was one in the company) ordered rest, +cooling medicine, neither of which seemed to do him good. The rest of +the men dispersed, to amuse themselves in various ways. Only D'Effernay +remained at home; he was never very fond of large societies, and we +voted that he was discontented and out of humor because his betrothed +bride was not with him. His room was next to the sick man's, to whom he +gave all possible care and attention, for poor Hallberg, besides being +ill, was in despair at giving so much trouble in a strange house. +D'Effernay tried to calm him on this point; he nursed him, amused him +with conversation, mixed his medicines, and, in fact, showed more +kindness and tenderness, than any of us would have given him credit +for. Before I went to bed I visited Hallberg, and found him much better, +and more cheerful; the doctor had promised that he should leave his bed +next day. So I left him and retired with the rest of the world, rather +late, and very tired, to rest. The next morning I was awoke by the fatal +tidings. I did not wait to dress, I ran to his room, it was full of +people." + +"And how, how was the death first discovered?" inquired Edward, in +breathless eagerness. + +"The servant, who came in to attend on him, thought he was asleep, for +he lay in his usual position, his head upon his hand. He went away and +waited for some time; but hours passed, and he thought he ought to wake +his master to give him his medicine. Then the awful discovery was made. +He must have died peacefully, for his countenance was so calm, his limbs +undisturbed. A fit of apoplexy had terminated his life, but in the most +tranquil manner." + +"Incomprehensible," said Edward, with a deep sigh. "Did they take no +measures to restore animation?" + +"Certainly; all that could be done was done, bleeding, fomentation, +friction; the physician superintended, but there was no hope, it was all +too late. He must have been dead some hours, for he was already cold and +stiff. If there had been a spark of life in him he would have been +saved. It was all over; I had lost my good lieutenant, and the regiment +one of its finest officers." + +He was silent, and appeared lost in thought. Edward, for his part, felt +overwhelmed by terrible suspicions and sad memories. After a long pause +he recovered himself: "and where was D'Effernay?" he inquired. + +"D'Effernay," answered the captain, rather surprised at the question; +"oh! he was not in the castle when we made the dreadful discovery: he +had gone out for an early walk, and when he came back late, not before +noon, he learned the truth, and was like one out of his senses. It +seemed so awful to him, because he had been so much, the very day +before, with poor Hallberg." + +"Ay," answered Edward, whose suspicions were being more and more +confirmed every moment. "And did he see the corpse? did he go into the +chamber of death?" + +"No," replied the captain; "he assured us it was out of his power to do +so; he could not bear the sight; and I believe it. People with such +uncontrolled feelings as this D'Effernay, are incapable of performing +those duties which others think it necessary and incumbent on them to +fulfill." + +"And where was Hallberg buried?" + +"Not far from the Castle where the mournful event took place. To-morrow, +if we go to the iron foundry, we shall be near the spot." + +"I am glad of it," cried Edward, eagerly, while a host of projects rose +up in his mind. "But now, captain, I will not trespass any longer on +your kindness. It is late, and we must be up betimes to-morrow. How far +have we to go?" + +"Not less than four leagues, certainly. D'Effernay has arranged that we +shall drive there, and see it all at our leisure: then we shall return +in the evening. Good night, Wensleben." + +They separated: Edward hurried to his room; his heart overflowed. Sorrow +on the one hand, horror and even hatred on the other, agitated him by +turns. It was long before he could sleep. For the third time the vision +haunted him; but now it was clearer than before; now he saw plainly the +features of him who lay in bed, and of him who stood beside the +bed--they were those of Hallberg and of D'Effernay. + +This third apparition, the exact counterpart of the two former (only +more vivid), all that he had gathered from conversations on the subject, +and the contents of Emily's letter, left scarcely the shadow of a doubt +remaining as to how his friend had left the world. + +D'Effernay's jealous and passionate nature seemed to allow of the +possibility of such a crime, and it could scarcely be wondered at, if +Edward regarded him with a feeling akin to hatred. Indeed the desire of +visiting Hallberg's grave, in order to place the ring in the coffin, +could alone reconcile Wensleben to the idea of remaining any longer +beneath the roof of a man whom he now considered the murderer of his +friend. His mind was a prey to conflicting doubts: detestation for the +culprit, and grief for the victim, pointed out one line of conduct, +while the difficulty of proving D'Effernay's guilt, and still more, pity +and consideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter +rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the +retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award +him. He would seek his friend's grave, and then he would separate from +D'Effernay, and never see him more. In the midst of these reflections +the servant came to tell him, that the carriage was ready. A shudder +passed over his frame as D'Effernay greeted him; but he commanded +himself, and they started on their expedition. + +Edward spoke but little, and that only when it was necessary, and the +conversation was kept up by his two companions; he had made every +inquiry, before he set out, respecting the place of his friend's +interment, the exact situation of the tomb, the name of the village, and +its distance from the main road. On their way home, he requested that +D'Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile +or two, as far as the village of ----, with whose rector he was +particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on +D'Effernay's brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of +vexation at any delay or hinderance; and he was so anxious to propitiate +his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands, +that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed +to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was. The captain stood up +in the carriage and pointed out the village to him, at some distance +off; it lay in a deep ravine at the foot of the mountains. + +They arrived in the course of time, and inquired for the clergyman's +house, which, as well as the church, was situated on rising ground. The +three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the +bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the +rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two +others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but +to D'Effernay's restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared +interminable. + +He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, "M. de +Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have +been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his +appearance." + +"Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long." + +"What on earth can he have to do here?" + +"Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy--the enthusiasm of youth." + +"It has a name, I suppose?" + +"Certainly, but--" + +"Is it sufficiently important, think you, to make us run the risk of +being benighted on such roads as these?" + +"Why, it is quite early in the day." + +"But we have more than two leagues to go. Why will you not speak? there +can not be any great mystery." + +"Well, perhaps not a mystery exactly, but just one of those subjects on +which we are usually reserved with others." + +"So! so!" rejoined D'Effernay, with a little sneer. "Some love affair; +some girl or another who pursues him, that he wants to get rid of." + +"Nothing of the kind, I can assure you," replied the captain, drily. "It +could scarcely be more innocent. He wishes, in fact, to visit his +friend's grave." + +The listener's expression was one of scorn and anger. "It is worth the +trouble, certainly," he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh. "A charming +sentimental pilgrimage, truly; and pray who is this beloved friend, over +whose resting-place he must shed a tear, and plant a forget-me-not? He +told me he had never been in the neighborhood before." + +"No more he had; neither did he know where poor Hallberg was buried +until I told him." + +"Hallberg!" echoed the other in a tone that startled the captain, and +caused him to turn and look fixedly in the speaker's face. It was deadly +pale, and the captain observed the effort which D'Effernay made to +recover his composure. + +"Hallberg!" he repeated again, in a calmer tone, "and was Wensleben a +friend of his?" + +"His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the +academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend." + +"Indeed!" said D'Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up +into a passion. "And this lieutenant came here on this account, then, +and the purchase of the estates was a mere excuse?" + +"I beg your pardon," observed the captain, in a decided tone of voice; +"I have already told you that it was I who informed him of the place +where his friend lies buried." + +"That may be, but it was owing to his friendship, to the wish to learn +something further of his fate, that we are indebted for the visit of +this romantic knight-errant." + +"That does not appear likely," replied the captain, who thought it +better to avert, if possible, the rising storm of his companion's fury. +"Why should he seek for news of Hallberg here, when he comes from the +place where he was quartered for a long time, and where all his comrades +now are." + +"Well, I don't know," cried D'Effernay, whose passion increased every +moment. "Perhaps you have heard what was once gossiped about the +neighborhood, that Hallberg was an admirer of my wife before she +married." + +"Oh yes, I have heard that report, but never believed it. Hallberg was a +prudent, steady man, and every one knew that Mademoiselle Varnier's hand +had been promised for some time." + +"Yes! yes! but you do not know to what lengths passion and avarice may +lead: for Emily was rich. We must not forget that, when we discuss the +matter; an elopement with the rich heiress would have been a fine thing +for a poor, beggarly lieutenant." + +"Shame! shame! M. D'Effernay. How can you slander the character of that +upright young man? If Hallberg were so unhappy as to love Mademoiselle +Varnier--" + +"That he did! you may believe me so far. I had reason to know it, and I +did know it." + +"We had better change the conversation altogether, as it has taken so +unpleasant a turn. Hallberg is dead; his errors, be they what they may, +lie buried with him. His name stands high with all who knew him. Even +you, M. D'Effernay--you were his friend." + +"I his friend? I hated him; I loathed him!" D'Effernay could not +proceed; he foamed at the mouth with rage. + +"Compose yourself!" said the captain, rising as he spoke, "you look and +speak like a madman." + +"A madman! Who says I am mad? Now I see it all--- the connection of the +whole--the shameful conspiracy." + +"Your conduct is perfectly incomprehensible to me," answered the +captain, with perfect coolness. "Did you not attend Hallberg in his last +illness, and give him his medicines with your own hand?" + +"I!" stammered D'Effernay. "No! no! no!" he cried, while the captain's +growing suspicions increased every moment, on account of the +perturbation which his companion displayed. "I never gave his +medicines; whoever says that is a liar." + +"I say it!" exclaimed the officer, in a loud tone, for his patience was +exhausted. "I say it, because I know that it was so, and I will maintain +that fact against any one at any time. If you choose to contradict the +evidence of my senses, it is you who are a liar!" + +"Ha! you shall give me satisfaction for this insult. Depend upon it, I +am not one to be trifled with, as you shall find. You shall retract your +words." + +"Never! I am ready to defend every word I have uttered here on this +spot, at this moment, if you please. You have your pistols in the +carriage, you know." + +D'Effernay cast a look of hatred on the speaker, and then dashing down +the little hill, to the surprise of the servants, he dragged the pistols +from the sword-case, and was by the captain's side in a moment. But the +loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and +there he stood on D'Effernay's return; and by his side a venerable old +man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand. + +"In heaven's name, what has happened?" cried Wensleben. + +"What are you about to do?" interposed the rector, in a tone of +authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror. "Are you +going to commit murder on this sacred spot, close to the precincts of +the church?" + +"Murder! who speaks of murder?" cried D'Effernay. "Who can prove it?" +and as he spoke, the captain turned a fierce, penetrating look upon him, +beneath which he quailed. + +"But, I repeat the question," Edward began once more, "what does all +this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come +back and find you both armed--both violently agitated--and M. +D'Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by +'proving it?'--to what do you allude?" At this moment, before any answer +could be made, a man came out of the house with a pick-ax and shovel on +his shoulder, and advancing toward the rector, said respectfully, "I am +quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard." + +It was now the captain's turn to look anxious: "What are you going to +do, you surely don't intend--?" but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted +him. + +"This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies +buried." + +"But these preparations, what do they mean?" + +"I will tell you," said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the +deepest emotion, "I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin +to be opened." + +"How, what?" screamed D'Effernay, once again. "Never--I will never +permit such a thing." + +"But, sir," the old man spoke, in a tone of calm decision, contrasting +wonderfully with the violence of him whom he addressed, "you have no +possible right to interfere. If this gentleman wishes it, and I accede +to the proposition, no one can prevent us from doing as we would." + +"I tell you I will not suffer it," continued D'Effernay, with the same +frightful agitation. "Stir at your peril," he cried, turning sharply +round upon the grave-digger, and holding a pistol to his head; but the +captain pulled his arm away, to the relief of the frightened peasant. + +"M. D'Effernay," he said, "your conduct for the last half-hour has been +most unaccountable--most unreasonable." + +"Come, come," interposed Edward, "let us say no more on the subject; but +let us be going," he addressed the rector; "we will not detain these +gentlemen much longer." + +He made a step toward the church-yard, but D'Effernay clutched his arm, +and, with an impious oath, "you shall not stir," he said; "that grave +shall not be opened." + +Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all +his doubts were confirmed. + +D'Effernay saw that Wensleben was resolved, and a deadly pallor spread +itself over his features, and a shudder passed visibly over his frame. + +"You are going!" he cried, with every gesture and appearance of +insanity. "Go, then;" ... and he pointed the muzzle of the pistol to his +mouth, and before any one could prevent him, he drew the trigger, and +fell back a corpse. The spectators were motionless with surprise and +horror; the captain was the first to recover himself in some degree. He +bent over the body with the faint hope of detecting some sign of life. +The old man turned pale and dizzy with a sense of terror, and he looked +as if he would have swooned, had not Edward led him gently into his +house, while the two others busied themselves with vain attempts to +restore life. The spirit of D'Effernay had gone to its last account! + +It was, indeed, an awful moment. Death in its worst shape was before +them, and a terrible duty still remained to be performed. + +Edward's cheek was blanched; his eye had a fixed look, yet he moved and +spoke with a species of mechanical action, which had something almost +ghastly in it. Causing the body to be removed into the house, he bade +the captain summon the servants of the deceased and then motioning with +his hand to the awe-struck sexton, he proceeded with him to the +church-yard. A few clods of earth alone were removed ere the captain +stood by his friend's side. + + * * * * * + +Here we must pause. Perhaps it were better altogether to emulate the +silence that was maintained then and afterward by the two comrades. But +the sexton could not be bribed to entire secrecy, and it was a story he +loved to tell, with details we gladly omit, of how Wensleben solemnly +performed his task--of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the +cause of Hallberg's death. Those who love the horrible must draw on +their own imaginations to supply what we resolutely withhold. + +Edward, we believe, never alluded to D'Effernay's death, and all the +awful circumstances attending it, but twice--once, when, with every +necessary detail, he and the captain gave their evidence to the legal +authorities; and once, with as few details as possible, when he had an +interview with the widow of the murderer, the beloved of the victim. The +particulars of this interview he never divulged, for he considered +Emily's grief too sacred to be exposed to the prying eyes of the curious +and the unfeeling. She left the neighborhood immediately, leaving her +worldly affairs in Wensleben's hands, who soon disposed of the property +for her. She returned to her native country, with the resolution of +spending the greater part of her wealth in relieving the distresses of +others, wisely seeking, in the exercise of piety and benevolence, the +only possible alleviation of her own deep and many-sided griefs. For +Edward, he was soon pronounced to have recovered entirely, from the +shock of these terrible events. Of a courageous and energetic +disposition, he pursued the duties of his profession with a firm step, +and hid his mighty sorrow deep in the recesses of his heart. To the +superficial observer, tears, groans, and lamentations are the only +proofs of sorrow; and when they subside, the sorrow is said to have +passed away also. Thus the captive, immured within the walls of his +prison-house, is as one dead to the outward world, though the jailer be +a daily witness to the vitality of affliction. + + + + +WORDSWORTH'S POSTHUMOUS POEM.[J] + + +This is a voice that speaks to us across a gulf of nearly fifty years. A +few months ago Wordsworth was taken from us at the ripe age of +fourscore, yet here we have him addressing the public, as for the first +time, with all the fervor, the unworn freshness, the hopeful confidence +of thirty. We are carried back to the period when Coleridge, Byron, +Scott, Rogers, and Moore were in their youthful prime. We live again in +the stirring days when the poets who divided public attention and +interest with the Fabian struggle in Portugal and Spain, with the wild +and terrible events of the Russian campaign, with the uprising of the +Teutonic nations, and the overthrow of Napoleon, were in a manner but +commencing their cycle of songs. This is to renew, to antedate, the +youth of a majority of the living generation. But only those whose +memory still carries them so far back, can feel within them any reflex +of that eager excitement, with which the news of battles fought and won, +or mail-coach copies of some new work of Scott, or Byron, or the +_Edinburgh Review_, were looked for and received in those already old +days. [J] We need not remind the readers of the _Excursion_, that when +Wordsworth was enabled, by the generous enthusiasm of Raisley Calvert, +to retire with a slender independence to his native mountains, there to +devote himself exclusively to his art, his first step was to review and +record in verse, the origin and progress of his own powers, as far as he +was acquainted with them. This was at once an exercise in versification, +and a test of the kind of poetry for which he was by temperament fitted. +The result was a determination to compose a philosophical poem, +containing views of man, of nature, and of society. This ambitious +conception has been doomed to share the fate of so many other colossal +undertakings. Of the three parts of his _Recluse_, thus planned, only +the second (the _Excursion_, published in 1814) has been completed. Of +the other two there exists only the first book of the first, and the +plan of the third. The _Recluse_ will remain in fragmentary greatness, a +poetical Cathedral of Cologne. + +Matters standing thus, it has not been without a melancholy sense of the +uncertainty of human projects, and of the contrast between the sanguine +enterprise and its silent evaporation (so often the "history of an +individual mind"), that we have perused this _Prelude_ which no +completed strain was destined to follow. Yet in the poem itself there is +nothing to inspire depression. It is animated throughout with the +hopeful confidence in the poet's own powers, so natural to the time of +life at which it was composed; it evinces a power and soar of +imagination unsurpassed in any of his writings; and its images and +incidents have a freshness and distinctness which they not seldom lost, +when they came to be elaborated, as many of them were, in his minor +poems of a later date. + +The _Prelude_, as the title page indicates, is a poetical autobiography, +commencing with the earliest reminiscences of the author, and continued +to the time at which it was composed. We are told that it was begun in +1799 and completed in 1805. It consists of fourteen books. Two are +devoted to the infancy and schooltime of the poet; four to the period of +his University life; two to a brief residence in London, immediately +subsequent to his leaving Cambridge, and a retrospect of the progress +his mind had then made; and three to a residence in France, chiefly in +the Loire, but partly in Paris, during the stormy period of Louis the +Sixteenth's flight and capture, and the fierce contest between the +Girondins and Robespierre. Five books are then occupied with an analysis +of the internal struggle occasioned by the contradictory influences of +rural and secluded nature in boyhood, and of society when the young man +first mingles with the world. The surcease of the strife is recorded in +the fourteenth book, entitled "Conclusion." + +The poem is addressed to Coleridge; and, apart from its poetical merits, +is interesting as at once a counterpart and supplement to that author's +philosophical and beautiful criticism of the _Lyrical Ballads_ in his +_Biographia Literaria_. It completes the explanation, there given, of +the peculiar constitution of Wordsworth's mind, and of his poetical +theory. It confirms and justifies our opinion that that theory was +essentially partial and erroneous; but at the same time, it establishes +the fact that Wordsworth was a true and a great poet in despite of his +theory. + +The great defect of Wordsworth, in our judgment, was want of sympathy +with, and knowledge of men. From his birth till his entry at college, he +lived in a region where he met with none whose minds might awaken his +sympathies, and where life was altogether uneventful. On the other hand, +that region abounded with the inert, striking, and most impressive +objects of natural scenery. The elementary grandeur and beauty of +external nature came thus to fill up his mind to the exclusion of human +interests. To such a result his individual constitution powerfully +contributed. The sensuous element was singularly deficient in his +nature. He never seems to have passed through that erotic period out of +which some poets have never emerged. A soaring, speculative imagination, +and an impetuous, resistless self-will, were his distinguishing +characteristics. From first to last he concentrated himself within +himself; brooding over his own fancies and imaginations to the +comparative disregard of the incidents and impressions which suggested +them; and was little susceptible of ideas originating in other minds. We +behold the result. He lives alone in a world of mountains, streams, and +atmospheric phenomena, dealing with moral abstractions, and rarely +encountered by even shadowy spectres of beings outwardly resembling +himself. There is measureless grandeur and power in his moral +speculations. There is intense reality in his pictures of external +nature. But though his human characters are presented with great skill +of metaphysical analysis, they have rarely life or animation. He is +always the prominent, often the exclusive, object of his own song. + +Upon a mind so constituted, with its psychological peculiarities so +cherished and confirmed, the fortunes and fates of others, and the +stirring events of his time, made vivid but very transient impressions. +The conversation and writings of contemporaries trained among books, and +with the faculty of speech more fully developed than that of thought, +seemed colorless and empty to one with whom natural objects and +grandeurs were always present in such overpowering force. Excluded by +his social position from taking an active part in the public events of +the day, and repelled by the emptiness of the then fashionable +literature, he turned to private and humble life as possessing at least +a reality. But he thus withheld himself from the contemplation of those +great mental excitements which only great public struggles can awaken. +He contracted a habit of exaggerating the importance of every-day +incidents and emotions. He accustomed himself to see in men and in +social relations only what he was predetermined to see there, and to +impute to them a value and importance derived mainly from his own +self-will. Even his natural good taste contributed to confirm him in his +error. The two prevailing schools of literature in England, at that +time, were the trashy and mouthing writers who adopted the sounding +language of Johnson and Darwin, unenlivened by the vigorous thought of +either; and the "dead-sea apes" of that inflated, sentimental, +revolutionary style which Diderot had unconsciously originated, and +Kotzebue carried beyond the verge of caricature. The right feeling and +manly thought of Wordsworth were disgusted by these shallow +word-mongers, and he flew to the other extreme. Under the +influences--repulsive and attractive--we have thus attempted to +indicate, he adopted the theory that as much of grandeur and profound +emotion was to be found in mere domestic incidents and feelings, as on +the more conspicuous stage of public life; and that a bald and naked +simplicity of language was the perfection of style. Singularly enough, +he was confirmed in these notions by the very writer of the day whose +own natural genius, more than any of his contemporaries, impelled, him +to riot in great, wild, supernatural conceptions; and to give utterance +to them in gorgeous language. Coleridge was perhaps the only +contemporary from whom Wordsworth ever took an opinion; and that he did +so from him, is mainly attributable to the fact that Coleridge did +little more than reproduce to him his own notions, sometimes rectified +by a subtler logic, but always rendered more attractive by new and +dazzling illustrations. + +Fortunately it is out of the power of the most perverse theory to spoil +the true poet. The poems of Wordsworth must continue to charm and +elevate mankind, in defiance of his crotchets, just as Luther, Henri +Quatre, and other living impersonations of poetry do, despite all quaint +peculiarities of the attire, the customs, or the opinions of their +respective ages, with which they were embued. The spirit of truth and +poetry redeems, ennobles, hallows, every external form in which it may +be lodged. We may "pshaw" and "pooh" at _Harry Gill_ and the _Idiot +Boy_; but the deep and tremulous tenderness of sentiment, the +strong-winged flight of fancy, the excelling and unvarying purity, which +pervade all the writings of Wordsworth, and the exquisite melody of his +lyrical poems, must ever continue to attract and purify the mind. The +very excesses into which his one-sided theory betrayed him, acted as a +useful counter-agent to the prevailing bad taste of his time. + +The _Prelude_ may take a permanent place as one of the most perfect of +Wordsworth's compositions. It has much of the fearless felicity of +youth; and its imagery has the sharp and vivid outline of ideas fresh +from the brain. The subject--the development of his own great +powers--raises him above that willful dallying with trivialities which +repels us in some of his other works. And there is real vitality in the +theme, both from our anxiety to know the course of such a mind, and from +the effect of an absorbing interest in himself excluding that languor +which sometimes seized him in his efforts to impart or attribute +interest to themes possessing little or none in themselves. Its mere +narrative, though often very homely, and dealing in too many words, is +often characterized also by elevated imagination, and always by +eloquence. The bustle of London life, the prosaic uncouthness of its +exterior, the earnest heart that beats beneath it, the details even of +its commonest amusements, from Bartholomew Fair to Sadler's Wells, are +portrayed with simple force and delicate discrimination; and for the +most part skillfully contrasted with the rural life of the poet's native +home. There are some truthful and powerful sketches of French character +and life, in the early revolutionary era. But above all, as might have +been anticipated, Wordsworth's heart revels in the elementary beauty and +grandeur of his mountain theme; while his own simple history is traced +with minute fidelity and is full of unflagging interest.--_London +Examiner._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[J] _The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind; an Autobiographical Poem_. +By William Wordsworth. London. Moxon. New York, Appleton & Co. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +THE LITERARY PROFESSION--AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS. + + +It is a common complaint that the publishers make large fortunes and +leave the authors to starve--that they are, in fact, a kind of moral +vampire, sucking the best blood of genius, and destroying others to +support themselves. A great deal of very unhealthy, one-sided cant has +been written upon this subject. Doubtless, there is much to be said on +both sides. That publishers look at a manuscript very much as a +corn-dealer looks at sample of wheat, with an eye to its selling +qualities, is not to be denied. If books are not written only to be +sold, they are printed only to be sold. Publishers must pay their +printers and their paper-merchants; and they can not compel the public +to purchase their printed paper. When benevolent printers shall be found +eager to print gratuitously works of unsalable genius, and benevolent +paper-merchants to supply paper for the same, publishers may afford to +think less of a manuscript as an article of sale--may reject with less +freedom unlikely manuscripts, and haggle less savagely about the price +of likely ones. An obvious common-place this, and said a thousand times +before, but not yet recognized by the world of writers at large. +Publishing is a trade, and, like all other trades, undertaken with the +one object of making money by it. The profits are not ordinarily large; +they are, indeed, very uncertain--so uncertain that a large proportion +of those who embark in the publishing business some time or other find +their way into the Gazette. When a publishing firm is ruined by printing +unsalable books, authors seldom or never have any sympathy with a +member of it. They have, on the other hand, an idea that he is justly +punished for his offenses; and so perhaps he is, but not in the sense +understood by the majority of those who contemplate his downfall as a +retributive dispensation. The fact is, that reckless publishing is more +injurious to the literary profession than any thing in the world beside. +The cautious publisher is the author's best friend. If a house publish +at their own risk a number of works which they can not sell, they must +either go into the Gazette at last, or make large sums of money by works +which they _can_ sell. When a publisher loses money by a work, an injury +is inflicted upon the literary profession. The more money he can make by +publishing, the more he can afford to pay for authorship. It is often +said that the authors of successful works are inadequately rewarded in +proportion to their success; that publishers make their thousands, while +authors only make their hundreds. But it is forgotten that the profits +of the one successful work are often only a set-off to the losses +incurred by the publication of half a dozen unsuccessful ones. If a +publisher purchase a manuscript for £500, and the work prove to be a +"palpable hit" worth £5000, it may seem hard that the publisher does not +share his gains more equitably with the author. With regard to this it +is to be said, in the first place, that he very frequently _does_. There +is hardly a publisher in London, however "grasping" he may be, who has +not, time after time, paid to authors sums of money not "in the bond." +But if the fact were not as we have stated it, we can hardly admit that +publishers are under any kind of obligation to exceed the strict terms +of their contracts. If a publisher gives £500 for a copyright, +expecting to sweep the same amount into his own coffers, but instead of +making that sum, loses it by the speculation, he does not ask the author +to refund--nor does the author offer to do it. The money is in all +probability spent long before the result of the venture is ascertained; +and the author would be greatly surprised and greatly indignant, if it +were hinted to him, even in the most delicate way, that the publisher +having lost money by his book, would be obliged to him if he would make +good a portion of the deficit by sending a check upon his bankers. + +We repeat, then, that a publisher who loses money by one man's books, +must make it by another's, or go into the Gazette. There are publishers +who trade entirely upon this principle, which, indeed, is a kind of +literary gambling. They publish a dozen works, we will suppose, of which +six produce an absolute loss; four just cover-their expenses; and the +other two realize a profit. The publisher, especially if he be his own +printer, may find this answer in the end; it may at least just keep him +out of the Bankruptcy Court, and supply his family with bread. But the +system can not be a really advantageous one either to publishers or +authors. To the latter, indeed, it is destruction. No inconsiderable +portion of the books published every year entail a heavy loss on author +or publisher, or on both--and the amount of this loss may be set down, +in most instances, as so much taken from the gross profits of the +literary profession. If Mr. Bungay lose a hundred pounds by the poems of +the Hon. Percy Popjoy, he has a hundred pounds less to give to Mr. +Arthur Pendennis for his novel. Instead of protesting against the +over-caution of publishers, literary men, if they really knew their own +interests, would protest against their want of caution. Authors have a +direct interest in the prosperity of publishers. The misfortune of +authorship is not that publishers make so much money, but that they make +so little. If Paternoster Row were wealthier than it is, there would be +better cheer in Grub-street. + +It is very true that publishers, like other men, make mistakes; and that +sometimes a really good and salable work is rejected. Many instances of +this might readily be adduced--instances of works, whose value has been +subsequently proved by extensive popularity, having been rejected by one +or more experienced member of the publishing craft. But their judgment +is on the whole remarkably correct. They determine with surprising +accuracy the market value of the greater number of works that are +offered to them. It is not supposed that in the majority of cases, the +publisher himself decides the question upon the strength of his own +judgment. He has his minister, or ministers of state, to decide these +knotty questions for him. A great deal has been written at different +times, about the baneful influence of this middleman, or "reader"--but +we can see no more justice in the complaint than if it were raised +against the system which places a middleman or minister between the +sovereign and his people. To complain of the incapacity of the publisher +himself, and to object to his obtaining the critical services of a more +competent party, were clearly an inconsistency and an injustice. If the +publisher himself be not capable of deciding upon the literary merits or +salable properties of the works laid before him, the best thing that he +can do is to secure the assistance of some one who _is_. Hence the +office of the "reader." It is well known that in some large publishing +houses there is a resident "reader" attached to the establishment; +others are believed to lay the manuscripts offered to them for +publication before some critic of established reputation out-of-doors; +while more than one eminent publisher might be named who has trusted +solely to his own judgment, and rarely found that judgment at fault. In +either of these cases there is no reason to assume the incompetency of +the judge. Besides, as we have said, the question to be solved by the +publisher or reader, is not a purely literary question. It is mainly +indeed a commercial question; and the merits of the work are often +freely acknowledged while the venture is politely declined. + +Much more might be said of the relations between publishers and authors, +but we are compelled to economize our space. The truth, indeed, as +regards the latter, is simply this: It is not so much that authors do +not know how to make money, as that they do not know how to spend it. +The same income that enables a clergyman, a lawyer, a medical +practitioner, a government functionary, or any other member of the +middle classes earning his livelihood by professional labor, to support +himself and his family in comfort and respectability, will seldom keep a +literary man out of debt and difficulty--seldom provide him with a +comfortable well-ordered home, creditable to himself and his profession. +It is ten to one that he lives untidily; that every thing about him is +in confusion, that the amenities of domestic life are absent from his +establishment; that he is altogether in a state of elaborate and costly +disorder, such as we are bound to say is the characteristic of no other +kind of professional life. He seldom has a settled home--a fixed +position. He appears to be constantly on the move. He seldom lives, for +any length of time, in the same place; and is rarely at home when you +call upon him. It would be instructive to obtain a return of the number +of professional writers who retain pews in church, and are to be found +there with their families on Sundays. There is something altogether +fitful, irregular, spasmodic in their way of life. And so it is with +their expenditure. They do not live like other men, and they do not +spend like other men. At one time, you would think, from their lavish +style of living, that they were worth three thousand a year; and at +another, from the privations that they undergo, and the difficulty they +find in meeting small claims upon them, that they were not worth fifty. +There is generally, indeed, large expenditure abroad, and painful +stinting at home. The "res angusta _domi_" is almost always there; but +away from his home, your literary man is often a prince and a +millionaire. Or, if he be a man of domestic habits, if he spends little +on tavern suppers, little on wine, little on cab hire, the probability +is, that he is still impulsive and improvident, still little capable of +self-denial; that he will buy a costly picture when his house-rent is +unpaid; that he will give his wife a guitar when she wants a gown; and +buy his children a rocking-horse when they are without stockings. His +house and family are altogether in an inelegant state of elegant +disorder; and with really a comfortable income, if properly managed, he +is eternally in debt. + +Now all this may appear very strange, but it is not wholly +unaccountable. In the _first_ place, it may be assumed, as we have +already hinted, that no small proportion of those who adopt literature +as a profession have enlisted in the army of authors because they have +lacked the necessary amount of patience and perseverance--the systematic +orderly habits--the industry and the self-denial by which alone it is +possible to attain success in other paths of professional life. With +talent enough to succeed in any, they have not had sufficient method to +succeed in any. They have been trained perhaps for the bar, but wanted +assiduity to master the dry details of the law, and patience to sustain +them throughout a long round of briefless circuits. They have devoted +themselves to the study of physic, and recoiled from or broken down +under examination; or wanted the hopeful sanguine temperament which +enables a man to content himself with small beginnings, and to make his +way by a gradually widening circle to a large round of remunerative +practice. They have been intended for the Church, and drawn back in +dismay at the thought of its restraints and responsibilities; or have +entered the army, and have forsaken with impatience and disgust the slow +road to superior command. + +In any case, it may be assumed that the original profession has been +deserted for that of authorship, mainly because the aspirant has been +wanting in those orderly methodical habits, and that patience and +submissiveness of temperament which secure success in those departments +of professional labor which are only to be overcome by progressive +degrees. In a word, it may be often said of the man of letters, that he +is not wanting in order because he is an author, but he is an author +because he is wanting in order. He is capable of occasional paroxysms of +industry; his spasms of energy are often great and triumphant. Where +results are to be obtained _per saltum_ he is equal to any thing and is +not easily to be frightened back. He has courage enough to carry a +fortress by assault, but he has not system enough to make his way by +regular approaches. He is weary of the work before he has traced out the +first parallel. In this very history of the rise of professional +authorship, we may often see the causes of its fall. The calamities of +authors are often assignable to the very circumstances that made them +authors. Wherefore is it that in many cases authors are disorderly and +improvident? simply because it is their nature to be so--because in any +other path of life they would be equally disorderly and improvident. The +want of system is not to be attributed to their profession. The evil +which we deplore arises in the first instance only from an inability to +master an inherent defect. + +But it must be admitted that there are many predisposing circumstances +in the environments of literary life--that many of the causes which +aggravate, if they do not originate the malady, are incidental to the +profession itself. The absolute requirements of literary labor not +unfrequently compel an irregular distribution of time and with it +irregular social and moral habits. It would be cruel to impute that as a +fault to the literary laborer which is in reality his misfortune. We who +lay our work once every quarter before the public, and they who once a +year, or less frequently, present themselves with their comely octavo +volumes of fiction or biography--history or science--to the reading +world, may dine at home every day with their children, ring the bell at +ten o'clock for family prayers, rise early and retire early every day, +and with but few deviations throughout the year, regularly toil through, +with more or less of the afflatus upon them, their apportioned hours of +literary labor; but a large proportion of the literary practitioners of +the age are connected, in some capacity or other, with the newspaper +press; they are the slaves of time, not its masters; and must bend +themselves to circumstances, however repugnant to the will. Late hours +are unfortunately a condition of press life. The sub-editors, the +summary writers, the reporters; the musical and theatrical critics, and +many of the leading-article writers are compelled to keep late hours. +Their work is not done till past--in many cases till _long_ +past--midnight; and it can not be done at home. It is a very unhappy +condition of literary life that it so often compels night-work. +Night-work of this kind seems to demand a resource to stimulants; and +the exigencies of time and place compel a man to betake himself to the +most convenient tavern. Much that we read in the morning papers, +wondering at the rapidity with which important intelligence or +interesting criticism is laid before us, is written, after midnight, at +some contiguous tavern, or in the close atmosphere of a reporter's room, +which compels a subsequent resort to some house of nocturnal +entertainment. If, weary with work and rejoicing in the thought of its +accomplishment, the literary laborer, in the society perhaps of two or +three of his brethren, betakes himself to a convenient supper house, and +there spends on a single meal, what would keep himself and his family in +comfort throughout the next day, perhaps it is hardly just to judge him +too severely; at all events, it is right that we should regard the +suffering, and weigh the temptation. What to us, in many cases, "seems +vice may be but woe." It is hard to keep to this night-work and to live +an orderly life. If a man from choice, not from necessity, turns night +into day, and day into night (we have known literary men who have +willfully done so), we have very little pity for him. The shattered +nerves--the disorderly home--the neglected business--the accounts unkept +and the bills unpaid, which are the necessary results of nights of +excitement and days of languor, are then to be regarded as the +consequences not of the misfortunes, but the faults of the sufferer. It +is a wretched way of life any how. + +Literary men are sad spendthrifts, not only of their money, but of +themselves. At an age when other men are in the possession of vigorous +faculties of mind and strength of body, they are often used-up, +enfeebled, and only capable of effort under the influence of strong +stimulants. If a man has the distribution of his own time--if his +literary avocations are of that nature that they can be followed at +home--if they demand only continuous effort, there is no reason why the +waste of vital energy should be greater in his case than in that of the +follower of any other learned profession. A man soon discovers to what +extent he can safely and profitably tax his powers. To do well in the +world he must economize himself no less than his money. Rest is often a +good investment. A writer at one time is competent to do twice as much +and twice as well as at another; and if his leisure be well employed, +the few hours of labor will be more productive than the many, at the +time; and the faculty of labor will remain with him twice as long. Rest +and recreation, fresh air and bodily exercise, are essential to an +author, and he will do well never to neglect them. But there are +professional writers who can not regulate their hours of labor, and +whose condition of life it is to toil at irregular times and in an +irregular manner. It is difficult, we know, for them to abstain from +using themselves up prematurely. Repeated paroxysms of fever wear down +the strongest frames; and many a literary man is compelled to live a +life of fever, between excitement and exhaustion of the mind. We would +counsel all public writers to think well of the best means of +economizing themselves--the best means of spending their time off duty. +Rest and recreation, properly applied, will do much to counteract the +destroying influences of spasmodic labor at unseasonable hours, and to +ward off premature decay. But if they apply excitement of one kind to +repair the ravages of excitement of another kind, they must be content +to live a life of nervous irritability, and to grow old before their +time. + + + + +THE BROTHERS CHEERYBLE. + + +William and Charles Grant were the sons of a farmer in Inverness-shire, +whom a sudden flood stript of every thing, even to the very soil which +he tilled. The farmer and his son William made their way southward, +until they arrived in the neighborhood of Bury, in Lancashire, and there +found employment in a print work, in which William served his +apprenticeship. It is said that, when they reached the spot near which +they ultimately settled, and arrived at the crown of the hill near +Walmesley, they were in doubt as to what course was best next to be +pursued. The surrounding country lay disclosed before them, the river +Irwell making its circuitous way through the valley. What was to be done +to induce their decision as to the route they were to take to their +future home? A stick was put up, and where it fell, in that direction +would they betake themselves. And thus their decision was made, and they +betook themselves toward the village of Ramsbotham, not far distant. In +this place, these men pitched their tent, and in the course of many long +years of industry, enterprise, and benevolence, they accumulated nearly +a million sterling of money; earning, meanwhile, the good-will of +thousands, the gratitude of many, and the respect of all who knew them. +They afterward erected, on the top of the hill overlooking Walmesley, a +lofty tower, in commemoration of the fortunate choice they had made, and +not improbably as a kind of public thank-offering for the signal +prosperity they had reaped. Cotton mills, and print works, were built by +them of great extent, employing an immense number of hands; and they +erected churches, founded schools, and gave a new life to the district. +Their well-directed diligence made the valley teem with industry, +activity, health, joy, and opulence; they never forgot the class from +which they themselves had sprung, that of working-men, whose hands had +mainly contributed to their aggrandizement, and, therefore, they spared +no expense in the moral, intellectual, and physical interests of their +work-people. + +A brief anecdote or two will serve to show what manner of men these +Grants were, and that Dickens, in his Brothers Cheeryble, has been +guilty of no exaggeration. Many years ago, a warehouseman published an +exceedingly scurrilous pamphlet against the firm of Grant Brothers, +holding up the elder partner to ridicule as "Billy Button." William was +informed by some "kind friend," of the existence and nature of the +pamphlet, and his observation was, that the man would live to repent of +its publication. "Oh!" said the libeler, when informed of this remark, +"he thinks that some time or other I shall be in his debt, but I will +take good care of that." It happens, however, that the man in business +does not always know who shall be his creditor. It turned out that the +libeler shortly became bankrupt, and the brothers held an acceptance of +his, which had been indorsed by the drawer who had also become bankrupt. +The wantonly libeled men had now an opportunity of revenging themselves +upon the libeler, for he could not obtain his certificate without their +signature, and without that he could not again commence business. But it +seemed to the bankrupt to be a hopeless case to expect that, they would +give their signature--they whom he had so wantonly held up to public +ridicule. The claims of a wife and children, however, at last forced him +to make the application. He presented himself at the counting-house +door, and found that "Billy Button" was in. He entered, and William +Grant, who was alone, rather sternly bid him, "shut the door, sir!" The +libeler trembled before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his +certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. "You +wrote a pamphlet against us once," exclaimed Mr. Grant. The supplicant +expected to see his parchment thrown into the fire; instead of which, +Mr. Grant took a pen, and writing something on the document, handed it +back to the supplicant, who expected to find "rogue, +scoundrel, libeler," instead of which, there was written only the +signature of the firm, completing the bankrupt's certificate. "We make +it a rule," said Mr. Grant, "never to refuse signing the certificate of +an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing +else." The tears started into the poor man's eyes. "Ah!" continued Mr. +Grant, "my saying was true, I said you would live to repent writing +that pamphlet, I did not mean it as a threat, I only meant that some day +you would know us better, and repent that you had tried to injure us; I +see you repent it now." "I do, I do," said the grateful man, "I do, +indeed, bitterly repent it." "Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us +now. How do you get on? What are you going to do?" The poor man stated +that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was +obtained. "But how are you off in the mean time?" and the answer was +that, having given up every farthing to his creditors, he had been +compelled to stint his family of even the common necessaries of life, +that he might be enabled to pay the cost of his certificate. "My dear +fellow, this will never do, your wife and family must not suffer; be +kind enough to take this ten-pound note to your wife from me--there, +there, my dear fellow--nay, don't cry--it will all be well with you yet; +keep up your spirits, set to work like a man, and you will raise your +head among us yet." The overpowered man endeavored in vain to express +his thanks--the swelling in his throat forbade words; he put his hand to +his face, and went out of the door crying like a child. + +In company with a gentleman who had written and lectured much on the +advantages of early religious, moral, and intellectual training, Mr +Grant asked--"Well, how do you go on in establishing schools for +infants?" The reply was, "Very encouragingly indeed; wherever I have +gone, I have succeeded either in inducing good people to establish them, +or in procuring better support to those that are already established. +But I must give over my labors, for, what with printing bills, +coach-fare, and other expenses, every lecture I deliver in any +neighboring town, costs me a sovereign, and I can not afford to ride my +hobby such a rate." He said, "You must not give over your labors; God +has blessed them with success; He has blessed you with talents, and me +with wealth, if you give your time, I ought to give my money. You must +oblige me by taking this twenty-pound note, and spending it in promoting +the education of the poor." The twenty-pound note was taken, and so +spent; and probably a thousand children are now enjoying the benefit of +the impulse that was thus given to a mode of instruction as delightful +as it was useful. + +Mr. Grant was waited on by two gentlemen, who were raising a +subscription for the widow of a respectable, man, who, some years before +his death, had been unfortunate in business. "We lost £200 by him," said +Mr. Grant; "and how do you expect I should subscribe, for his widow?" +"Because," answered one of them, "what you have lost by the husband does +not alter the widow's claim on your benevolence." "Neither it shall," +said he, "here are five pounds, and if you can not make up the sum you +want for her, come to me, and I'll give you more." + +Many other anecdotes, equally characteristic of the kind nature of +William Grant, could be added. For fifteen years did he and his brother +Charles ride into Manchester on market days, seated side-by-side, +looking of all things like a pair of brothers, happy in themselves, and +in each other. William died a few years ago, and was followed to the +grave by many blessings. The firm still survives, and supports its +former character. Long may the merchant princes of England continue to +furnish such beautiful specimens of humanity as the now famous Brothers +Cheeryble!--_Chambers' Edinburgh Journal_. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +WRITING FOR PERIODICALS. + + +Lord Lyndhurst once said, at a public dinner, with reference to the +numberless marvels of the press, that it might seem a very easy thing to +write a leading article, but that he would recommend any one with strong +convictions on that point, only to _try_. We confidently appeal to the +experience of all the conductors of the leading journals of Great +Britain, from the quarterly reviews to the daily journals, convinced +that they will all tell the same unvarying tale of the utter +incompetency of thousands of very clever people to write articles, +review books, &c. They will all have the same experiences to relate of +the marvelous failures of men of genius and learning--the crude cumbrous +state in which they have sent their so-called articles for +publication--the labor it has taken to mould their fine thoughts and +valuable erudition into comely shape--the utter impossibility of doing +it at all. As Mr. Carlyle has written of the needle-women of England, it +is the saddest thing of all, that there should be sempstresses few or +none, but "botchers" in such abundance, capable only of "a distracted +puckering and botching--not sewing--only a fallacious hope of it--a fond +imagination of the mind;" so of literary labor is it the saddest thing +of all, that there should be so many botchers in the world, and so few +skilled article-writers--so little article-writing, and so much +"distracted puckering and botching." There may be nothing in this +article-writing, when once we know how to do it, as there is nothing in +balancing a ladder on one's chin, or jumping through a hoop, or +swallowing a sword. All we say is, if people think it easy, let them +try, and abide by the result. The amateur articles of very clever people +are generally what an amateur effort at coat-making would be. It may +seem a very easy thing to make a coat; but very expert +craftsmen--craftsmen that can produce more difficult and elaborate +pieces of workmanship, fail utterly when they come to a coat. The only +reason why they can not make a coat is, that they are not tailors. Now +there are many very able and learned men, who can compass greater +efforts of human intellect than the production of a newspaper article, +but who can not write a newspaper at all, because they we not +newspaper-writers, or criticise a book with decent effect, because they +are not critics. Article-writing comes "by art not chance." The efforts +of chance writers, if they be men of genius and learning, are things to +break one's heart over. + +It is not enough to think and to know. It requires the faculty of +utterance, and a peculiar kind of utterance. Certain things are to be +said in a certain manner; and your amateur article-writer is sure to say +them in any manner but the right. Perhaps of all styles of writing there +is none in which excellency is so rarely attained as that of +newspaper-writing. A readable leading article may not be a work of the +loftiest order, or demand for its execution the highest attributes of +genius; but, whatever it may be, the power of accomplishing it with +success is not shared by "thousands of clever fellows." Thousands of +clever fellows, fortified by Mr. Thackeray's opinion, may think that +they could write the articles which they read in the morning journals; +but let them take pen and paper and _try_. + +We think it only fair that professional authors should have the credit +of being able to do what other people can not. They do not claim to +themselves a monoply of talent. They do not think themselves capable of +conducting a case in a court of law, as cleverly as a queen's counsel, +or of getting a sick man through the typhus fever as skillfully as a +practiced physician. But it is hard that they should not receive credit +for being able to write better articles than either the one or the +other; or, perhaps it is more to the purpose to say, than the briefless +lawyers and patientless medical students who are glad to earn a guinea +by their pens. Men are not born article-writers any more than they are +born doctors of law, or doctors of physic; as the ludicrous failures, +which are every day thrown into the rubbish-baskets of all our newspaper +offices, demonstrate past all contradiction. Incompetency is manifested +in a variety of ways, but an irrepressible tendency to fine writing is +associated with the greater number of them. Give a clever young medical +student a book about aural or dental surgery to review, and the chances +are ten to one that the criticism will be little else than a high-flown +grandiloquent treatise on the wonders of the creation. A regular +"literary hack" will do the thing much better. + +If there be any set of men--we can not call it a _class_, for it is +drawn from all classes--who might be supposed to possess' a certain +capacity for periodical writing, it is the fraternity of members of +Parliament. They are in the habit of selecting given subjects for +consideration--of collecting facts and illustrations--of arranging +arguments--and of expressing themselves after a manner. They are for the +most part men of education, of a practical turn of mind, well acquainted +with passing events, and, in many instances, in possession just of that +kind of available talent which is invaluable to periodical writers. But +very few of them can write an article, either for a newspaper or a +review, without inflicting immense trouble upon the editor. Sometimes +the matter it contains will be worth the pains bestowed upon it; but it +very often happens that it is _not_. It is one thing to make a +speech--another to write an article. But the speech often, no less than +the article, requires editorial supervision. The reporter is the +speaker's editor, and a very efficient one too. In a large number of +cases, the speaker owes more to the reporter than he would willingly +acknowledge. The speech as spoken would often be unreadable, but that +the reporter finishes the unfinished sentences, and supplies meanings +which are rather suggested than expressed. It would be easy to name +members who are capable of writing admirable articles; but many of them +owe their position in the House to some antecedent connection with the +press, or have become, in some manner regularly "connected with the +press;" and have acquired, by long practice, the capacity of +article-writing. But take any half-dozen members indiscriminately out of +the House, and set them down to write articles on any subject which they +may have just heard debated, and see how grotesque will be their +efforts? They may be very "clever fellows," but that they can write +articles as well as men whose profession it is to write them, we take +upon ourselves emphatically to deny. + + + + +ANECDOTE OF LORD CLIVE. + + +Although of a gloomy temperament, and from the earliest age evincing +those characteristics of pride and shyness which rendered him unsocial, +and therefore unpopular in general society, this nobleman, in the +private walks of life, was amiable, and peculiarly disinterested. While +in India, his correspondence with those of his own family, evinced in a +remarkable degree those right and kindly feelings which could hardly +have been expected from Clive, considering the frowardness of early life +and the inflexible sternness of more advanced age. When the foundation +of his fortune was laid. Lord Clive evinced a praiseworthy recollection +of the friends of his early days. He bestowed an annuity of £800 on his +parents, while to other relations and friends he was proportionately +liberal. He was a devotedly attached husband, as his letters to Lady +Clive bear testimony. Her maiden name was Maskelyne, sister to the +eminent mathematician, so called, who long held the post of astronomer +royal. This marriage, which took place in 1752, with the circumstances +attending it, are somewhat singular, and worth recording: Clive, who was +at that period just twenty-seven, had formed a previous friendship with +one of the lady's brothers, like himself a resident at Madras. The +brother and sister, it appears, kept up an affectionate and constant +correspondence--that is, as constant an interchange of epistolary +communication as could be accomplished nearly a century ago, when the +distance between Great Britain and the East appeared so much more +formidable, and the facilities of postal conveyance so comparatively +tardy. The epistles of the lady, through the partiality of her brother, +were frequently shown to Clive, and they bespoke her to be what from all +accounts she was--a woman of very superior understanding, and of much +amiability of character. Clive was charmed with her letters, for in +those days, be it remembered, the fair sex were not so familiarized to +the pen as at the present period. At that time, to indite a really good +epistle as to penmanship and diction, was a formidable task, and what +few ladies, comparatively speaking, could attain to. The accomplished +sister of Dr. Maskelyne was one of the few exceptions, and so strongly +did her epistolary powers attract the interest, and gain for her the +affections of Clive, that it ended by his offering to marry the young +lady, if she could be induced to visit her brother at Madras. The +latter, through whom the suggestion was to be made, hesitated, and +seemed inclined to discourage the proposition; but Clive in this +instance evinced that determination of purpose which was so strong a +feature in his character. He could urge, too, with more confidence a +measure on which so much of his happiness depended--for he was now no +longer the poor neglected boy, sent out to seek his fortune, but one who +had already acquired a fame which promised future greatness. In short, +he would take no refusal; and then was the brother of Miss Maskelyne +forced to own, that highly as his sister was endowed with every mental +qualification, nature had been singularly unfavorable to her--personal +attractions she had none. The future hero of Plassy was not, however, to +be deterred--but he made this compromise: If the lady could be prevailed +upon to visit India, and that neither party, on a personal acquaintance, +felt disposed for a nearer connection, the sum of £5000 was to be +presented to her. With this understanding all scruples were overcome. +Miss Maskelyne went out to India, and immediately after became the wife +of Clive, who, already prejudiced in her favor, is said to have +expressed himself surprised that she should ever have been represented +to him as plain. So much for the influence of mind and manner over mere +personal endowments. With the sad end of this distinguished general +every reader is familiar. His lady survived the event by many years, and +lived to a benevolent and venerable old age. + + + + +[From The Ladies' Companion.] + +THE IMPRISONED LADY. + + +We derive the following curious passage of life one hundred years since, +from the second Series of Mr. Burke's "Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:" + +Lady Cathcart was one of the four daughters of Mr. Malyn, of Southwark +and Battersea, in Surrey. She married four times, but never had any +issue. Her first husband was James Fleet, Esq., of the City of London, +Lord of the Manor of Tewing; her second, Captain Sabine, younger +brother of General Joseph Sabine, of Quinohall; her third, Charles, +eighth Lord Cathcart, of the kingdom of Scotland, Commander-in-Chief of +the Forces in the West Indies; and her fourth,[K] Hugh Macguire, an +officer in the Hungarian service, for whom she bought a +lieutenant-colonel's commission in the British army, and whom she also +survived. She was not encouraged, however, by his treatment, to verify +the resolution, which she inscribed as a posy on her wedding-ring: + + "If I survive, + I will have five." + +Her avowed motives for these several engagements were, for the first, +obedience to her parents; for the second, money; for the third, title; +and for the fourth, submission to the fact that "the devil owed her a +grudge, and would punish her for her sins." In the last union she met +with her match. The Hibernian fortune-hunter wanted only her money. Soon +after their marriage, she discovered her grievous mistake, and became +alarmed lest the colonel, who was desperately in love, not with the +widow, but with the "widow's jointured land," designed to carry her off, +and to get absolute power over all her property; to prepare for the +worst, her ladyship plaited some of her jewels in her hair, and quilted +others in her petticoat. Meanwhile the mistress of the colonel so far +insinuated herself into his wife's confidence that she learned where her +will was deposited; and Macguire getting sight of it, insisted on an +alteration in his favor, under a threat of instant death. Lady +Cathcart's apprehensions of the loss of her personal freedom proved to +be not without foundation; one morning, when she and her husband went +out from Tewing to take an airing, she proposed, after a time, to +return, but he desired to go a little further. The coachman drove on; +she remonstrated, "they should not be back by dinner-time." "Be not the +least uneasy on that account," rejoined Macguire; "we do not dine to-day +at Tewing, but at Chester, whither we are journeying." Vain were all the +lady's efforts and expostulations. Her sudden disappearance excited the +alarm of her friends, and an attorney was sent in pursuit, with a writ +of _habeas corpus_ or _ne exeat regno_. He overtook the travelers at an +inn at Chester, and succeeding in obtaining an interview with the +husband, demanded a sight of Lady Cathcart. The colonel, skilled in +expedients, and aware that his wife's person was unknown, assured the +attorney that he should see her ladyship immediately, and he would find +that she was going to Ireland with her own free consent. Thereupon +Macguire persuaded a woman, whom he had properly tutored, to personate +his wife. The attorney asked the supposed captive, if she accompanied +Colonel Macguire to Ireland of her own good-will? "Perfectly so," said +the woman. Astonished at such an answer, he begged pardon, made a low +bow, and set out again for London. Macguire thought that possibly Mr. +Attorney might recover his senses, find how he had been deceived, and +yet stop his progress; and in order to make all safe, he sent two or +three fellows after him, with directions to plunder him of all he had, +particularly of his papers. They faithfully executed their commission; +and when the colonel had the writ in his possession, he knew that he was +safe. He then took my lady over to Ireland, and kept her there, a +prisoner, locked up in his own house at Tempo, in Fermanagh, for many +years; during which period he was visited by the neighboring gentry, and +it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady +Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honor to drink her +ladyship's health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at +table that she would like to eat? The answer was always--"Lady +Cathcart's compliments, and she has every thing she wants." An instance +of honesty in a poor Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart +had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her +husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he +should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to whom she +could intrust them, but she had observed a beggar who used to come to +the house, she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was +confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart +threw a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. + +The poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed; +and several years afterward, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, +she received her diamonds safely. At Colonel Macguire's death, which +occurred in 1764, her ladyship was released. When she was first informed +of the fact, she imagined that the news could not be true, and that it +was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At the time of her +deliverance she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore a +red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupefied: she said +that she scarcely knew one human creature from another: her imprisonment +had lasted nearly twenty years. The moment she regained her freedom she +hastened to England, to her house at Tewing, but the tenant, a Mr. +Joseph Steele, refusing to render up possession, Lady Cathcart had to +bring an action of ejectment, attended the assizes in person, and gained +the cause. At Tewing she continued to reside for the remainder of her +life. The only subsequent notice we find of her is, that, at the age of +eighty, she took part in the gayeties of the Welwyn Assembly, and danced +with the spirit of a girl. She did not die until 1789, when she was in +her ninety-eighth year. + +In the mansion-house of Tempo, now the property of Sir John Emerson +Tennent, the room is still shown in which Lady Cathcart was imprisoned. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[K] Lady Cathcart's marriage to Macguire took place 18th May, 1745. + + + + +LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + +FROM OUR FOREIGN FILES, AND UNPUBLISHED BOOKS. + + +Sidney Smith's account of the origin of the _Edinburgh Review_ is well +known. The following statement was written by Lord Jeffrey, at the +request of Robert Chambers, in November, 1846, and is now first made +public: "I can not say exactly where the project of the _Edinburgh +Review_ was first talked of among the projectors. But the first serious +consultations about it--and which led to our application to a +publisher--were held in a small house, where I then lived, in +_Buccleugh-place_ (I forget the number). They were attended by S. Smith, +F. Horner, Dr. Thomas Brown, Lord Murray, and some of them also by Lord +Webb Seymour, Dr. John Thomson, and Thomas Thomson. The first three +numbers were given to the publisher--he taking the risk and defraying +the charges. There was then no individual editor, but as many of us as +could be got to attend used to meet in a dingy room of Willson's +printing office, in Craig's Close, where the proofs of our own articles +were read over and remarked upon, and attempts made also to sit in +judgment on the few manuscripts which were then offered by strangers. +But we had seldom patience to go through with this; and it was soon +found necessary to have a responsible editor, and the office was pressed +upon me. About the same time Constable was told that he must allow ten +guineas a sheet to the contributors, to which he at once assented; and +not long after, the _minimum_ was raised to sixteen guineas, at which it +remained during my reign. Two-thirds of the articles were paid much +higher--averaging, I should think, from twenty to twenty-five guineas a +sheet on the whole number. I had, I might say, an unlimited discretion +in this respect, and must do the publishers the justice to say that they +never made the slightest objection. Indeed, as we all knew that they had +(for a long time at least) a very great profit, they probably felt that +they were at our mercy. Smith was by far the most timid of the +confederacy, and believed that, unless our incognito was strictly +maintained, we could not go on a day; and this was his object for making +us hold our dark divans at Willson's office, to which he insisted on our +repairing singly, and by back approaches or different lanes! He also had +so strong an impression of Brougham's indiscretion and rashness, that he +would not let him be a member of our association, though wished for by +all the rest. He was admitted, however, after the third number, and did +more work for us than any body. Brown took offense at some alterations +Smith had made in a trifling article of his in the second number, and +left us thus early; publishing at the same time in a magazine the fact +of his secession--a step which we all deeply regretted, and thought +scarcely justified by the provocation. Nothing of the kind occurred ever +after." + +Constable soon remunerated the editor with a liberality corresponding to +that with which contributors were treated. From 1803 to 1809 Jeffrey +received 200 guineas for editing each number. For the ensuing three +years, the account-books are missing; but from 1813 to 1826 he is +credited £700 for editing each number. + + * * * * * + +The "_Economist_" closes an article upon the late Sir ROBERT PEEL with +the following just and eloquent summation: + +"Sir Robert was a scholar, and a liberal and discerning patron of the +arts. Though not social, he was a man of literary interests and of +elegant and cultivated taste. Possessed of immense wealth, with every +source and avenue of enjoyment at his command, it is no slight merit in +him that he preferred to such refined enjoyment the laborious service of +his country. He was no holiday or _dillettanti_ statesman. His industry +was prodigious, and he seemed actually to love work. His toil in the +memorable six months of 1835 was something absolutely prodigious; in +1842 and 1843 scarcely less so. His work was always done in a masterly +and business-like style, which testified to the conscientious diligence +he had bestowed upon it. His measures rarely had to be altered or +modified in their passage through the House. In manners he was always +decorous--never over-bearing or insulting, and if ever led by the heat +of contest into any harsh or unbecoming expression, was always prompt to +apologize or retract. By his unblemished private character, by his +unrivaled administrative ability, by his vast public services, his +unvarying moderation, he had impressed not only England but the world at +large with a respect and confidence such as few attain. After many +fluctuations of repute, he had at length reached an eminence on which he +stood--independent of office, independent of party--one of the +acknowledged potentates of Europe; face to face, in the evening of life, +with his work and his reward--his work, to aid the progress of those +principles on which, after much toil, many sacrifices, and long groping +toward the light, he had at length laid a firm grasp; his guerdon, to +watch their triumph. Nobler occupation man could not aspire to; sublimer +power no ambition need desire; greater earthly reward, God, out of all +the riches of his boundless treasury has not to bestow." + +Numerous projects for monuments to the deceased statesman have been +broached. In reference to these, and to the poverty of thought, and +waste of means, which in the present age builds for all time with +materials so perishable as statues, a correspondent of the _Athenæum_ +suggests, as a more intelligent memorial, the foundation of a national +university for the education of the sons of the middle classes. Ours, he +says, are not the days for copying the forms of ancient Rome as +interpreters of feelings and inspirations which the Romans never knew. +While the statues which they reared are dispersed, and the columns they +erected are crumbling to decay, their thoughts, as embodied in their +literature, are with us yet, testifying forever of the great spirits +which perished from among them, but left, in this sure and abiding form, +the legacy of their minds. + + * * * * * + +The effect upon civilization of the Ownership of the Land being in the +hands of a few, or of the many, has been earnestly discussed by writers +on political and social economy. Two books have recently been published +in England, which have an important bearing upon this subject. One is by +SAMUEL LAING, Esq. the well known traveler, and the other by JOSEPH KAY, +Esq. of Cambridge. Both these writers testify that in the continental +countries which they have examined--more especially in Germany, France, +Holland, Belgium and Switzerland--they have found a state of society +which does fulfill in a very eminent degree all the conditions of a most +advanced civilization. They have found in those countries education, +wealth, comfort, and self-respect; and they have found that the whole +body of the people in those countries participate in the enjoyment of +these great blessings to an extent which very far exceeds the +participation in them of the great mass of the population of England. +These two travelers perfectly agree in the declaration that during the +last-thirty or forty years the inequality of social condition among +men--the deterioration toward two great classes of very rich and very +poor--has made very little progress in the continental states with which +they are familiar. They affirm that a class of absolute paupers in any +degree formidable from its numbers has yet to be created in those +states. They represent in the most emphatic language the immense +superiority in education, manners, conduct, and the supply of the +ordinary wants of a civilized being, of the German, Swiss, Dutch, +Belgian and French peasantry over the peasantry and poorer classes not +only of Ireland, but also of England and Scotland. This is the general +and the most decided result with reference to the vital question of the +condition and prospects of the peasantry and poorer classes, neither Mr. +Laing nor Mr. Kay have any doubt whatever that the advantage rests in +the most marked manner with the continental states which they have +examined over Great Britain. According to Mr. Laing and Mr. Kay, the +cause of this most important difference is--_the distribution of the +ownership of land_. On the continent, the people _own_ and _cultivate_ +the land. In the British islands the land is held in large masses by a +few persons; the class practically employed in agriculture are either +_tenants_ or _laborers_, who do not act under the stimulus of a personal +interest in the soil they cultivate. + + * * * * * + +A self-taught artist named Carter has recently died at Coggshall, Essex, +where he had for many years resided. He was originally a farm laborer, +and by accident lost the power of every part of his body but the head +and neck. By the force of perseverance and an active mind, however, he +acquired the power of drawing and painting, by holding the pencil +between his lips and teeth, when placed there by the kind offices of an +affectionate sister. In this manner he had not only whiled away the +greater part of fourteen years of almost utter physical helplessness, +but has actually produced works which have met with high commendation. +His groups and compositions are said to have been "most delicately +worked and highly finished." The poor fellow had contemplated the +preparation of some grand work for the International Exhibition, but the +little of physical life remaining in him was lately extinguished by a +new accident. + + * * * * * + +CONVERSATION OF LITERARY MEN.--Literary men talk less than they did. +They seldom "lay out" much for conversation. The conversational, like +the epistolary age, is past; and we have come upon the age of periodical +literature. People neither put their best thoughts and their available +knowledge into their letters, nor keep them for evening conversation. +The literary men of 1850 have a keener eye to the value of their +stock-in-trade, and keep it well garnered up, for conversion, as +opportunity offers, into the current coin of the realm. There is some +periodical vehicle, nowadays, for the reception of every possible kind +of literary ware. The literary man converses now through the medium of +the Press, and turns every thing into copyright at once. He can not +afford to drop his ideas by the way-side; he must keep them to himself, +until the printing-press has made them inalienably his own. If a happy +historical or literary illustration occurs to him, it will do for a +review article; if some un-hackneyed view of a great political question +presents itself to him, it may be worked into his next leader; if some +trifling adventure has occurred to him, or he has picked up a novel +anecdote in the course of his travels, it may be reproduced in a page of +magazine matter, or a column of a cheap weekly serial. Even puns are not +to be distributed gratis. There is a property in a _double-entente_, +which its parent will not willingly forego. The smallest jokelet is a +marketable commodity. The dinner-table is sacrificed to _Punch_. There +is too much competition in these days, too many hungry candidates for +the crumbs that fall from the thinker's table, not to make him chary of +his offerings. In these days, every scrap of knowledge--every happy +thought--every felicitous turn of expression, is of some value to a +literary man; the forms of periodical literature are so many and so +varied. He can seldom afford to give any thing away; and there is no +reason why he should. It is not so easy a thing to turn one's ideas into +bread, that a literary man need be at no pains to preserve his property +in them. We do not find that artists give away their sketches, or that +professional singers perform promiscuously at private parties. Perhaps, +in these days of much publishing, professional authors are wise in +keeping the best of themselves for their books and articles. We have +known professional writers talk criticism; but we have generally found +it to be the very reverse of what they have published. + + * * * * * + +REWARDS OF LITERATURE.--Literature has been treated with much +ingratitude, even by those who owe most to it. If we do not quite say +with Goldsmith, that it supports many dull fellows in opulence, we may +assert, with undeniable truth, that it supports, or ought to support, +many clever ones in comfort and respectability. If it does not it is +less the fault of the profession than the professors themselves. There +are many men now in London, Edinburgh, and other parts of the country, +earning from £1000 to £300 per annum by their literary labors, and some, +with very little effort, earning considerably more. It is no part of our +plan in the present article to mix up modern instances with our wise +saws, else might we easily name writers who, for contributions to the +periodical press, for serial installments of popular tales, and other +literary commodities, demanding no very laborious efforts of +intellectual industry, have received from flourishing newspaper +proprietors and speculative booksellers, sums of money which it would be +difficult to earn with equal facility in any other learned profession. +An appointment on the editorial staff of a leading daily paper is in +itself a small fortune to a man. The excellence of the articles is, for +the most part, in proportion to the sum paid for them; and a successful +morning journal will generally find it good policy to pay its +contributors in such a manner as to secure the entire produce of their +minds, or, at all events, to get the best fruits that they are capable +of yielding. If a man can earn a comfortable independence by writing +three or four leading articles a week, there is no need that he should +have his pen ever in his hand, that he should be continually toiling at +other and less profitable work. But if he is to keep himself ever fresh +and ever vigorous for one master he must be paid for it. There are +instances of public writers who had shown evident signs of exhaustion +when employed on one paper--who had appeared, indeed, to have written +themselves out so thoroughly, that the proprietors were fain to dispense +with their future services--transferring those services to another +paper, under more encouraging circumstances of renumeration, and, as +though endued with new life, striking out articles fresh, vigorous, and +brilliant. They gave themselves to the one paper; they had only given a +part of themselves to the other. + + * * * * * + +SCHAMYL, the Prophet of the Caucasus, through whose inspiriting +leadership the Caucasians have maintained a successful struggle against +the gigantic power of Russia for many years, is described by a recent +writer as a man of middle stature; he has light hair, gray eyes, shaded +by bushy and well-arched eyebrows; a nose finely moulded, and a small +mouth. His features are distinguished from those of his race by a +peculiar fairness of complexion and delicacy of skin: the elegant form +of his hands and feet is not less remarkable. The apparent stiffness of +his arms, when he walks, is a sign of his stern and impenetrable +character His address is thoroughly noble and dignified. Of himself he +is completely master; and he exerts a tacit supremacy over all who +approach him. An immovable, stony calmness, which never forsakes him, +even in moments of the utmost danger, broods over his countenance. He +passes a sentence of death with the same composure with which he +distributes "the sabre of honor" to his bravest Murids, after a bloody +encounter. With traitors or criminals whom he has resolved to destroy he +will converse without betraying the least sign of anger or vengeance. He +regards himself as a mere instrument in the hands of a higher Being; and +holds, according to the Sufi doctrine, that all his thoughts and +determinations are immediate inspirations from God. The flow of his +speech is as animating and irresistible as his outward appearance is +awful and commanding. "He shoots flames from his eyes and scatters +flowers from his lips," said Bersek Bey, who sheltered him for some days +after the fall of Achulgo, when Schamyl dwelt for some time among the +princes of the Djighetes and Ubiches, for the purpose of inciting the +tribes on the Black Sea to rise against the Russians. Schamyl is now +fifty years old, but still full of vigor and strength; it is however +said, that he has for some years past suffered from an obstinate disease +of the eyes, which is constantly growing worse. He fills the intervals +of leisure which his public charges allow him, in reading the Koran, +fasting, and prayer. Of late years he has but seldom, and then only on +critical occasions, taken a personal share in warlike encounters. In +spite of his almost supernatural activity, Schamyl is excessively severe +and temperate in his habits. A few hours of sleep are enough for him; at +times he will watch for the whole night, without showing the least trace +of fatigue on the following day. He eats little, and water is his only +beverage. According to Mohammedan custom, he keeps several wives. In +1844 he had _three_, of which his favorite (Pearl of the Harem, as she +was called) was an Armenian, of exquisite beauty. + + * * * * * + +A Frankfort journal states that the colossal statue of Bavaria, by +Schwanthaler, which is to be placed on the hill of Seudling, surpasses +in its gigantic proportions all the works of the moderns. It will have +to be removed in pieces from the foundry where it is cast to its place +of destination, and each piece will require sixteen horses to draw it. +The great toes are each half a mètre in length. In the head two persons +could dance a polka very conveniently, while the nose might lodge the +musician. The thickness of the robe, which forms a rich drapery +descending to the ankles, is about six inches, and its circumference at +the bottom about two hundred mètres. The Crown of Victory which the +figure holds in her hands weighs one hundred quintals (a quintal is a +hundred weight). + + * * * * * + +WORDSWORTH'S prose writings are not numerous; and with the exception of +the well-known prefaces to his minor poems, they are little known. A +paper or two in Coleridge's _Friend_, and a political tract occasioned +by the convention of Cintra, form important and valuable contributions +to the prose literature of the country. We would especially call +attention to the introductory part of the third volume of the _Friend_, +as containing a very beautiful development of Mr. Wordsworth's opinions +on the moral worth and intellectual character of the age in which it was +his destiny to live. The political tract is very scarce; but we may +safely affirm, that it contains some of the finest writing in the +English language. Many of its passages can be paralleled only by the +majestic periods of Milton's prose, or perhaps by the vehement and +impassioned eloquence of Demosthenes. Its tone is one of sustained +elevation, and in sententious moral and political wisdom it will bear a +comparison with the greatest productions of Burke. We trust that this +pamphlet will be republished. A collection and separate publication of +all Mr. Wordsworth's prose writings would form a valuable addition to +English literature. + +Mr. Wordsworth's conversation was eminently rich, various, and +instructive. Attached to his mountain home, and loving solitude as the +nurse of his genius, he was no recluse, but keenly enjoyed the pleasures +of social intercourse. He had seen much of the world, and lived on terms +of intimate friendship with some of the most illustrious characters of +his day. His reading was extensive, but select; indeed, his mind could +assimilate only the greater productions of intellect. To criticism he +was habitually indifferent; and when solicited for his opinions, he was +generally as reserved in his praise as he was gentle in his censures. +For some of his contemporaries he avowed the highest respect; but +Coleridge was the object of his deepest affection as a friend, and of +his veneration as a philosopher. Of the men who acted important parts in +the political drama of the last century, the homage of his highest +admiration was given to Burke, who, after Shakspeare and Bacon, he +thought the greatest being that Nature had ever created in the human +form. + +The last few years of Mr. Wordsworth's life were saddened by +affliction. They who were admitted to the privilege of occasional +intercourse with the illustrious poet in his later days will long dwell +with deep and affectionate interest upon his earnest conversation while +he wandered through the shaded walks of the grounds which he loved so +well, and ever and anon paused to look down upon the gleaming lake as +its silver radiance was reflected through the trees which embosomed his +mountain home. Long will the accents of that "old man eloquent" linger +in their recollection, and their minds retain the impression of that +pensive and benevolent countenance. The generation of those who have +gazed upon his features will pass away and be forgotten. The marble, +like the features which it enshrines, will crumble into dust. _Ut vultus +hominum ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt, forma mentis +æterna_; the attributes of his mighty intellect are stamped for ever +upon his works which will be transmitted to future ages as a portion of +their most precious inheritance. + + * * * * * + +No man is more enshrined in the heart of the French people than the poet +BERANGER. A few weeks since he went one evening with one of his nephews +to the _Clos des Lilas_, a garden in the students' quarter devoted to +dancing in the open air, intending to look for a few minutes upon a +scene he had not visited since his youth, and then withdraw. But he +found it impossible to remain unknown and unobserved. The announcement +of his presence ran through the garden in a moment. The dances stopped, +the music ceased, and the crowd thronged toward the point where the +still genial and lovely old man was standing. At once there rose from +all lips the cry of _Vive Beranger!_ which was quickly followed by that +of _Vive la Republique_. The poet, whose diffidence is excessive, could +not answer a word, but only smiled and blushed his thanks at this +enthusiastic reception. The acclamations continuing, an agent of the +police invited him to withdraw, lest his presence might occasion +disorder. The illustrious song-writer at once obeyed; by a singular +coincidence the door through which he went out opened upon the place +where Marshal Ney was shot. + + * * * * * + +THE PARIS ACADEMY OF INSCRIPTIONS AND BELLES LETTRES is constantly +sending forth the most valuable contributions, to the history of the +middle ages especially. It is now completing the publication of the +sixth volume of the Charters, Diplomas, and other documents relating to +French history. This volume, which was prepared by M. Pardessus, +includes the period from the beginning of 1220 to the end of 1270, and +comprehends the reign of St. Louis. The seventh volume, coming down some +fifty years later, is also nearly ready for the printer. Its editor is +M. Laboulaye. The first volume of the Oriental Historians of the +Crusaders, translated into French, is now going through the press, and +the second is in course of preparation. The greater part of the first +volume of the Greek Historians of the same chivalrous wars is also +printed, and the work is going rapidly forward. The Academy is also +preparing a collection of Occidental History on the same subject. When +these three collections are published, all the documents of any value +relating to the Crusades will be easily accessible, whether for the use +of the historian or the romancer. The Academy is also now engaged in +getting out the twenty-first volume of the History of the Gauls and of +France, and the nineteenth of the Literary History of France, which +brings the annals of French letters down to the thirteenth century. It +is also publishing the sixteenth volume of its own Memoirs, which +contains the history of the Academy for the last four years, and the +work of Freret on Geography, besides several other works of less +interest. From all this some idea may be formed of the labors and +usefulness of the institution. + + * * * * * + +In speaking of the advantage of education to Mechanics, Robert Hall says +that it has a tendency to exalt the character, and, in some measure, to +correct and subdue the taste for gross sensuality. It enables the +possessor to beguile his leisure moments (and every man has such) in an +innocent, at least, if not in a useful manner. The poor man who can +read, and who possesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at +home, without being tempted to repair to the public-house for that +purpose. His mind can find employment where his body is at rest. There +is in the mind of such a man an intellectual spring, urging him to the +pursuit of mental good; and if the minds of his family are also a little +cultivated, conversation becomes the more interesting, and the sphere of +domestic enjoyment enlarged. The calm satisfaction which books afford +puts him into a disposition to relish more exquisitely the tranquil +delight of conjugal and parental affection; and as he will be more +respectable in the eyes of his family than he who can teach them +nothing, he will be naturally induced to cultivate whatever may +preserve, and to shun whatever would impair that respect. + + * * * * * + +For producing steel pens the best Dennemora--Swedish iron--or hoop iron +is selected. It is worked into sheets or slips about three feet long, +and four or five inches broad, the thickness varying with the desired +stiffness and flexibility of the pen for which it is intended. By a +stamping press pieces of the required size are cut out. The point +intended for the nib is introduced into a gauged hole, and by a machine +pressed into a semi-cylindrical shape. In the same machine it is pierced +with the required slit or slits. This being effected, the pens are +cleaned by mutual attrition in tin cylinders, and tempered, as in the +case of the steel plate, by being brought to the required color by heat. +Some idea of the extent of this manufacture will be formed from the +statement, that nearly 150 tons of steel are employed annually for this +purpose, producing upward of 250,000,000 pens. + + * * * * * + +Philosophers abroad are working diligently at many interesting branches +of physical science: magneto and muscular electricity, dia-magnetism, +vegetable and animal physiology: Matteucci in Italy, Bois-Reymond, +Weber, Reichenbach, and Dove in Germany. The two maps of isothermal +lines for every month in the year, lately published by the +last-mentioned _savant_, are remarkable and most valuable proofs of +scientific insight and research. If they are to be depended on, there is +but one pole of cold, situate in Northern America; that supposed to +exist in the Asiatic continent disappears when the monthly means are +taken. These maps will be highly useful to the meteorologist, and indeed +to students of natural philosophy generally, and will suggest other and +more-extended results. + + * * * * * + +A communication from M. Trémaux, an Abyssinian traveler, has been +presented to the French Academy by M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire: it gives an +account of the sudden difference which occurs in the races of men and +animals near Fa Zoglo, in the vicinity of the Blue Nile. The shores of +this stream are inhabited by a race of Caucasian origin, whose sheep +have woolly coats; but at a few miles' distance, in the mountains of +Zaby and Akaro, negro tribes are found whose sheep are hairy. According +to M. Trévaux, 'the differences and changes are due to two causes: the +one, that vegetable nature, having changed in aspect and production, +attracts and supports certain species, while others no longer appear, or +the individuals are fewer. As for the second cause, it is the more +surprising, since it produces opposite effects on the same point: where +man has no longer silken, but woolly hair, there the sheep ceases to be +covered with wool.' M. St. Hilaire remarked on these facts, that the +degree of domestication of animals is proportional to the degree of +civilization of those who possess them. Among savage people dogs are +nearly all alike, and not far removed from the wolf or jackal; while +among civilized races there is an almost endless variety--the greater +part far removed from the primitive type. Are we to infer from this that +negroes will cease to be negroes by dint of civilization--that wool will +give place to hair, and _vice versâ_? If so, a wide field is opened for +experiment and observation. + + + + +MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS. + + +The action of Congress during the past month has been of more than usual +interest. The Senate has finally disposed of the Compromise Bill, which +has absorbed its discussions for nearly the whole of the session, and +has taken definite action upon all the subjects which that bill +embraced. On the 30th of July, the bill being before the Senate, a +resolution offered by Senator BRADBURY, of Maine, was pending, +authorizing the appointment of Commissioners by the United States and +Texas, for the adjustment of the boundary line between Texas and New +Mexico. To this Mr. DAWSON, of Ga., offered an amendment, providing that +until the boundary should have been agreed to, no territorial government +should go into operation east of the Rio Grande, nor should any state +government be established to include that territory. This amendment was +adopted, ayes 30, noes 28. Mr. BRADBURY'S resolution, thus amended, was +then adopted by the same vote. On the 31st the bill came up for final +action. Mr. NORRIS moved to strike out the clause restricting the +Legislature of New Mexico from establishing or prohibiting slavery. This +was carried, 32 to 20. Mr. PEARCE, of Maryland, then moved to strike out +all relating to New Mexico, which was carried by a vote of 33 to 22. He +then moved to re-insert it, omitting the amendment of Messrs. Bradbury +and Dawson--his object being by this roundabout process (which was the +only way in which it could be reached), to reverse the vote adopting +that amendment. His motion was very warmly and strongly resisted, and +various amendments offered to it were voted down. The motion itself was +then put and lost, ayes 25, nays 28. This left nothing in the bill +except the provision for admitting California and that establishing a +territorial government for Utah. Mr. WALKER, of Wisconsin, then moved to +strike out all except that part relating to California. This was lost, +ayes 22, nays 33. Mr. ATCHISON, of Missouri, moved to strike out all +relating to California. This motion was first lost by a tie vote, but a +reconsideration was moved by Mr. WINTHROP and carried, and then the +motion prevailed, ayes 34, nays 25. The Bill thus contained nothing but +the sections relating to Utah, and in that shape it was passed, ayes 32, +nays 18. Thus the Compromise bill, reported early in the session, and +earnestly debated from that time forward, was decisively rejected. On +the very next day, the 1st of August, the bill for the admission of +California was made the special order by a vote of 34 to 23. Mr. FOOTE, +of Miss., offered an amendment that California should not exercise her +jurisdiction over territory south of 35° 30'. Mr. CLAY in an earnest and +eloquent speech, after regretting the fate of the Compromise Bill, said +he wished it to be distinctly understood that if any state or states, or +any portion of the people, should array themselves in arms against the +Union, he was for testing the strength of the government, to ascertain +whether it had the ability to maintain itself. He avowed the most +unwavering attachment to the Union, and declared his purpose to raise +both his voice and his arm in support of the Union and the Constitution. +He had been in favor of passing the several measures together: he was +now in favor of passing them separately: but whether passed or not, he +was in favor of putting down any and all resistance to the federal +authority. After some debate, Mr. FOOTE'S amendment was negatived, yeas +23, nays 33. On the 6th of August Mr. TURNEY, of Tennessee, offered an +amendment, dividing California into two territories, which may hereafter +form state constitutions. This was rejected, ayes 29, nays 32. Mr. YULEE +offered an amendment, establishing a provisional government, which he +advocated in a speech extending through three days: on the 10th it was +rejected by a vote of 12 to 35 An amendment offered by Mr. Foote, +erecting the part of California south of 36° 30' into a distinct +territory, was rejected by a vote of 13 to 30. On the 12th the bill was +ordered to be engrossed, yeas 33, nays 19; and on the 13th, after a +brief but warm debate, in the course of which Senators BERRIEN and +CLEMENS denounced the bill as fraught with mischief and peril to the +Union, and Mr. HOUSTON ridiculed the apprehensions thus expressed, the +bill was finally passed, yeas 34, nays 18, as follows: + +YEAS--Messrs. Baldwin, Bell, Benton, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Chase, +Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dickinson, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Dodge, +of Iowa, Douglas, Ewing, Felch, Green, Hale, Hamlin, Houston, Jones, +Miller, Norris, Phelps, Seward, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, +Underwood, Upham, Wales, Walker, Whitcomb, and Winthrop--34. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Barnwell, Berrien, Butler, Clemens, Davis, of +Mississippi, Dawson, Foote, Hunter, King, Mason, Morton, Pratt, Rusk, +Sebastian, Soulé, Turney, and Yulee--18. + +The next day a Protest against the admission of California, signed by +Senators Mason and Hunter, of Virginia, Butler and Barnwell, of South +Carolina, Turney, of Tennessee, Soulé, of Louisiana, Davis, of +Mississippi, Atchison, of Missouri, and Morton and Yulee, of Florida, +was presented, and a request made that it might be entered on the +Journal. This, however, the Senate refused. Thus was completed the +action of the Senate on the admission of California. + +On the 5th of August Mr. PEARCE, of Md., introduced a bill, making +proposals to Texas for the settlement of her western and northern +boundaries. It proposes that the boundary on the north shall commence at +the point where the meridian of 100° west longitude intersects the +parallel of 36° 30' north latitude, and shall run due west to the +meridian of 103° west longitude: thence it shall run due south to the +32d degree north latitude, thence on the said parallel to the Rio del +Norte, and thence with the channel of said river to the Gulf of Mexico. +For relinquishing all claims to the United States government for +territory beyond the line thus defined, the bill proposes to pay Texas +ten millions of dollars. The bill was debated for several successive +days, and on the 9th was ordered to be engrossed, yeas 27, nays 24, and +received its final passage on the same day, yeas 30, nays 20, as +follows: + +YEAS.--Messrs. Badger, Bell, Berrien, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Clarke, +Clemens, Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dawson, Dickinson, Dodge, of +Iowa, Douglas, Felch, Foote, Greene, Houston, King, Norris, Pearce, +Phelps, Rusk, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, Wales, Whitcomb, and +Winthrop--30. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Baldwin, Barnwell, Benton, Butler, Chase, +Davis, of Mississippi, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Ewing, Hale, Hunter, Mason, +Morton, Seward, Soulé, Turney, Underwood, Upham, Walker, and Yulee--20. + +Thus was completed the action of the Senate on the second of the great +questions which have enlisted so much of public attention during the +past few months.--On the 14th the bill providing a territorial +government for New Mexico was taken up. Mr. CHASE moved to amend it by +inserting a clause prohibiting the existence of slavery within its +limits, which was rejected, ayes 20, nays 25. The bill was then ordered +to be engrossed for a third reading, which it had, and was finally +passed. + +In the House of Representatives, no business of importance has been +transacted. The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation Bill has been +discussed, and efforts have been made to change the existing rules of +the House so as to facilitate public business; but nothing important has +been done.--On the 6th of August President FILLMORE sent to the House a +Message, transmitting a letter he had received from Governor BELL, of +Texas, announcing that he had sent a commissioner to extend the laws of +Texas over that part of New Mexico which she claims, and that he had +been resisted by the inhabitants and the United States military +authorities. The President says in his Message that he deems it his duty +to execute the laws of the United States, and that Congress has given +him full power to put down any resistance that may be organized against +them. Texas as a state has no authority or power beyond her own limits; +and if she attempts to prevent the execution of any law of the United +States, in any state or territory beyond her jurisdiction, the President +is bound by his oath to resist such attempts by all the power which the +Constitution has placed at his command. The question is then considered +whether there is any law in New Mexico, resistance to which would call +for the interposition of the Executive authority. The President regards +New Mexico as a territory of the United States, with the same boundaries +which it had before the war with Mexico, and while in possession of that +country. By the treaty of peace the boundary line between the two +countries is defined, and perfect security and protection in the free +enjoyment of their liberty and property, and in the free exercise of +their religion, is guaranteed to those Mexicans who may choose to reside +on the American side of that line. This treaty is part of the law of the +land, and as such must be maintained until superseded or displaced by +other legal provisions; and if it be obstructed, the case is regarded as +one which comes within the provisions of law, and which obliges the +President to enforce these provisions. "Neither the Constitution or the +laws," says Mr. FILLMORE, "nor my duty or my oath of office, leave me +any alternative, or any choice, in my mode of action." The Executive has +no power or authority to determine the true line of boundary, but it is +his duty, in maintaining the laws, to have regard to the actual state of +things as it existed at the date of the treaty--all must be now regarded +as New Mexico which was possessed and occupied as New Mexico by citizens +of Mexico at the date of the treaty, until a definite line of boundary +shall be established by competent authority. Having thus indicated the +course which he should pursue, the President expresses his earnest +desire that the question of boundary should be settled by Congress, with +the assent of the government of Texas. He deprecates delay, and objects +to the appointment of commissioners. He expresses the opinion that an +indemnity may very properly be offered to Texas, and says that no event +would be hailed with more satisfaction by the people than the amicable +adjustment of questions of difficulty which have now for a long time +agitated the country, and occupied, to the exclusion of other subjects, +the time and attention of Congress. Accompanying the Message was a +letter from Mr. WEBSTER, Secretary of State, in reply to that of +Governor BELL. Mr. WEBSTER vindicates the action of the military +authorities in New Mexico, saying that they had been instructed to aid +and advance any attempt of the inhabitants to form a state government, +and that in all they did they acted as agents of the inhabitants rather +than officers of the government. An outline is given of the history of +the acquisition of New Mexico, and it is clearly shown that every thing +thus far has been done in strict accordance with the stipulations of the +treaty, and with the position and principles of the late President Polk. +The military government existed in New Mexico as a matter of necessity, +and must remain until superseded by some other form. The President +approves entirely of the measures taken by Colonel Munroe, while he +takes no part, and expresses no opinion touching the boundary claimed by +Texas. These documents were ordered to be printed and were referred to +committees. + +Mr. PEARCE of Maryland, and Mr. BATES of Missouri, who were invited by +President FILLMORE to become members of his cabinet, both declined. Hon. +T. M. T. MCKENNAN of Pennsylvania, has been appointed Secretary of the +Interior, and Hon. CHAS. M. CONRAD of Louisiana, Secretary of War, in +their places. Both have accepted.--It is stated that Hon. D. D. BARNARD +of New-York, has been nominated as Minister to Prussia. Mr. B. is one of +the ablest writers and most accomplished scholars in the country.--A +regular line of stages has just been established to run monthly between +Independence, Missouri, and Santa-Fé, in New Mexico. Each coach is to +carry eight persons, and to be made water tight, so as to be used as a +boat in crossing streams. This will prove to be an important step toward +the settlement of the great western region of our Union.--An active +canvass has been going on in Virginia for the election of members of a +convention to revise the state constitution. The questions at issue grow +mainly out of a contest between the eastern and western sections of the +state for supremacy. The west has been gaining upon the east in +population very rapidly during the last fifteen or twenty years. The +east claims a representation based upon property, by which it hopes to +maintain its supremacy, while the west insists that population alone +should be made the basis of political representation. The contest is +carried on with a great deal of warmth and earnestness.--Elections of +considerable interest have taken place during the month in several of +the states. In Missouri, where five members of Congress were chosen, +three of them, Messrs. PORTER, DARBY, and MILLER, are known to be Whigs. +In the other two districts the result has not been ascertained. The +change which this result indicates, is attributed to the course taken by +Senator BENTON, in refusing to obey the instructions of the state +legislature, and in denouncing them as connected with the scheme of +disunion, which he charged upon certain southern politicians. This led +to a division in his own party, which enabled the Whigs to elect a part, +at least, of the Congressional delegation.--In North Carolina an +election for governor, has resulted in the choice of Col. REID, +Democrat, by 3000 majority. In the state senate the Democrats have four, +and in the house they have 10 majority. This enables them to choose a +democratic U.S. Senator in place of Mr. MANGUM, the present Whig +incumbent.--In Indiana the election has given the Democrats control of +the legislature and of the state convention for the revision of the +constitution.--The authorities of Buffalo some weeks since, hearing that +Lord Elgin, Governor of Canada, was about to visit their city, prepared +for him a public reception. Circumstances prevented the fulfillment of +the purpose, but the courtesy of the people of Buffalo was communicated +by Lord Elgin to his government at home, and acknowledged by Earl Grey +in a letter to our Department of State. In further acknowledgement the +Legislature of Canada, and the Corporation of Toronto, invited the +authorities of Buffalo to pay them a visit, which was done on the 8th of +August, when they were welcomed by a very brilliant reception. This +interchange of courtesies is peculiarly creditable to both parties, and +highly gratifying to both countries.--The Legislature of Wisconsin has +enacted a law making it a penal offence for any owner or lessee of land +to allow the Canada thistle to go to seed upon it.--The Board of +Visitors appointed by the Government to attend the annual examination at +West Point, have made their report, giving a detailed account of their +observations, and concluding by expressing the opinion, that the +Military Academy is one of the most useful and highly creditable in our +country; that it has been mainly instrumental in forming the high +character which our army now sustains before the civilized world, and +that it is entitled to the confidence and fostering care of the +Government.--Hon. HENRY CLAY has been spending the August weeks at +Newport, R.I. He has received essential benefit from the sea-bathing and +the relief from public care which his temporary residence there +affords.--Commodore JACOB JONES, of the United States Navy, died at his +residence in Philadelphia, on the 3d ult. He was in the 83d year of his +age, and stood nearly at the head of the list of post captains, +Commodores BARRON and STEWART only preceding him. He was a native of +Delaware, and one of the number who, in the war of 1812, contributed to +establish the naval renown of our country. For the gallant manner in +which, while in command of the brig Wasp, he captured the British brig +Frolic, of superior force, he was voted a sword by each of the States of +Delaware, Massachusetts, and New-York. He was, until recently, the +Governor of the Naval Asylum, near Philadelphia.--The city authorities +of Boston, acting under the advice of the Consulting Physicians, have +decided to abandon all quarantine regulations, as neither useful nor +effectual in preventing the introduction of epidemic +diseases.--Professor FORSHEY, in an essay just published, proves by the +result of observations kept up through a great number of years, that the +channel of the Mississippi river is _deepening_, and consequently the +levee system will not necessarily elevate the bed of the river, as has +been feared. On the contrary, he thinks confining the river within a +narrow channel will give it additional velocity, ant serve to scrape out +the bottom; while opening artificial outlets, by diminishing the +current, will cause the rapid deposition of sediment, and thus produce +evil to be guarded against.--A project has been broached for completing +the line of railroads from Boston to Halifax, and then to have the +Atlantic steamers run between that port and Galway, the most westerly +port of Ireland. In this way it is thought that the passage from +Liverpool to New York may be considerably shortened. + +In SCIENTIFIC matters some interesting and important experiments have +been made by Prof. PAGE of the Smithsonian Institute, on the subject of +Electro-Magnetism as a motive power, the results of which have recently +been announced by him in public lectures. He states that there can be no +further doubt as to the application of this power as a substitute for +steam. He exhibited experiments in which a bar of iron weighing one +hundred and sixty pounds was made to spring up ten inches through the +air, and says that he can as readily move a bar weighing a hundred tons +through a space of a hundred feet. He expects to be able to apply it to +forge hammers, pile drivers, &c, and to engines with a stroke of six, +ten, or twenty feet. He exhibited also an engine of between four and +five horse power, worked by a battery contained in a space of three +cubic feet. It was a reciprocating engine of two feet stroke, the engine +and battery weighing about one ton, and driving a circular saw ten +inches in diameter, sawing boards an inch and a quarter thick, making +eighty strokes a minute. The professor says that the cost of the power +is less than steam under most conditions, though not so low as the +cheapest steam engines. The consumption of three pounds of zinc per day +produces one horse power. The larger his engines the greater the +economy. Some practical difficulties remain to be overcome in the +application of the power to practical purposes on a larger scale: but +little doubt seems to be entertained that such an application is +feasible. The result is one of very great importance to science, as well +as to the arts of practical life.--We made a statement in our July +number of the pretensions of Mr. Henry M. Paine, of Worcester, Mass., to +having discovered a new method of procuring hydrogen from water, and +rendering it capable of giving a brilliant light, with great case and at +a barely nominal expense, by passing it through cold spirits of +turpentine. His claims have been very generally discredited, and were +supposed to have been completely exploded by the examinations of several +scientific gentlemen of Boston and New York. Mr. GEORGE MATHIOT, an +electro-metallurgist attached to the United States Coast Survey, and a +gentleman of scientific habits and attainments, has published in the +Scientific American, a statement that he has succeeded in a kindred +attempt. He produced a very brilliant light, nearly equal to the +Drummond, by passing hydrogen through turpentine: and in thus passing +the gas from thirty-three ounces of zinc through it, the quantity of +turpentine was not perceptibly diminished. "In this case," he says, "the +hydrogen could not have been changed into carburetted hydrogen, for coal +gas contains from four to five times as much carbon as hydrogen, and +pure carburetted hydrogen has six times as much carbon as hydrogen; and, +as 33 ounces of zinc, by solution, liberate one ounce, or twelve cubic +feet of hydrogen, therefore, from four to six ounces of turpentine +should have been used up, supposing it to be all carbon; but turpentine +is composed of twenty atoms of carbon to fifteen atoms of hydrogen, and, +consequently, only one-seventh of its carbon can be taken up by the +hydrogen; or, in other words, forty-two ounces of turpentine will be +required to carburet one ounce of hydrogen." He tried the experiment +afterward, placing the whole apparatus in a cold bath to prevent +evaporation, and again by heating the turpentine to 120 degrees--but in +both cases with the same result. He used the same turpentine and had a +brilliant light for nearly three hours, and yet the quantity was not +perceptibly diminished. Mr. Mathiot claims that his experiments prove +conclusively that hydrogen can be used for illumination, but at what +comparative rate of expense he does not state.--The American Scientific +Association commenced its annual session at New Haven on the 19th of +August. This is an association formed for the advancement of science and +embraces within its members nearly all the leading scientific men of the +United States. Prof. BACHE presides. The proceedings of these +conventions, made up of papers on scientific subjects read by +distinguished gentlemen, are published in a volume, and form a valuable +contribution to American scientific literature.--Intelligence has been +received, by way of England, and also, direct, from two of the American +vessels sent out in search of Sir John Franklin. The brig _Advance_ +arrived at Whalefish Island, on the West Coast of Greenland, on the 24th +of June, and the _Rescue_ arrived two days after. Two of the British +steamers and two of the ships had also arrived. All on board were well, +and in good spirits for prosecuting the expedition. Enormous icebergs +were, seen by the American vessels on the voyage, some of them rising +150 or 200 feet above the water. A letter from an officer of the +_Rescue_ says they expected to go to a place called Uppermarik, about +two hundred miles from Whalefish Island, thence to Melville Bay, and +across Lancaster Sound to Cape Walker, and from that point they would +try to go to Melville Island and as much farther as possible. They +intended to winter at Melville Island, but that would depend upon +circumstances. + + * * * * * + +The LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month presents no feature of special +interest. The first volume of a series of Reminiscences of Congress, +made up mainly of a biography of DANIEL WEBSTER, has just been issued +from the press of Messrs. Baker and Scribner. It is by CHARLES W. MARCH, +Esq., a young man of fine talents, and of unusual advantages for the +preparation of such a work. His style is eminently graphic and +classical, and the book is one which merits attention.--The same +publishers will also publish a volume of sketches by IK. MARVEL, the +well-known pseudonym of Mr. D. G. MITCHELL, whose "Fresh Gleanings," and +"Battle Summer," have already made him very favorably known to the +literary community.--Prof. TORREY, of the University of Vermont, has +prepared for the press the fourth volume of his translation of NEANDER'S +Church History, which will be issued soon. It is understood that, at the +time of his death, the great German scholar was engaged upon the fifth +volume of his history, which is therefore left unfinished.--The +Appletons announce a Life of JOHN RANDOLPH, by Hon. A. H. GARLAND, which +can not fail to be an attractive and interesting work. They are also to +publish the magnificently-illustrated book on the war between the United +States and Mexico, upon which GEO. W. KENDALL has been engaged for a +year or two., It is to embrace splendid pictorial drawings of all the +principal conflicts, taken on the spot, by Carl Nebel, a German artist +of distinction, with a description of each battle by Mr. KENDALL. It +will be issued in one volume, folio, beautifully colored. + + * * * * * + +The past month has been distinguished by the annual commencements of the +academic year in most of the colleges of the country. At these +anniversary occasions, the candidates for honors make public exhibition +of their ability; the literary societies attached to the colleges hold +their celebrations: and addresses and poems are delivered by literary +gentlemen previously invited to perform that duty. The number of +colleges in the country, and the fact that the most distinguished +scholars in the country are generally selected for the office, gives to +these occasions a peculiar and decided interest; and the addresses then +and thus pronounced, being published, form no inconsiderable or unworthy +portion of the literature of the age. The commencement at Yale College +was celebrated at New Haven, on the 15th ult. The recurrence of the +third semi-centennial anniversary of the foundation of the college, in +1700, led to additional exercises of great interest, under the +supervision of the alumni of the college, of whom over 3000 are still +living, and about 1000 of whom were present. President WOOLSEY delivered +a very interesting historical discourse, sketching the origin, progress, +and results of the institution, and claiming for it a steady and +successful effort to meet the requirements of the country and the age. +The discourse, when published, will form a valuable contribution to the +historical literature of the country. The alumni, at their dinner, which +followed the address, listened to some eloquent and interesting speeches +from ex-President DAY and Prof. SILLIMAN, touching the history of Yale +College; from Prof. FELTON, concerning Harvard; from LEONARD BACON, +D.D., in reference to the clergy educated at Yale; from EDWARD BATES, of +Missouri, concerning the West and the Union; from Prof. BROWN, of +Dartmouth; from DANIEL LORD, of New York, upon the Bench and the Bar; +and from Dr. STEVENS, upon the Medical Profession, as connected with +Yale College; and from other gentlemen of distinction and ability, upon +various topics. JOHN W. ANDREWS, Esq., of Columbus, O., delivered the +oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society; his subject was the Progress +of the World during the last half century. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, of +Cambridge, delivered the poem, which was one of his most admirable +productions--a blending of the most exquisite descriptive and +sentimental poetry with the finest humor, the keenest wit, and the most +effective sarcasm. PIERPONT, the well-known poet, also read an admirable +satirical and humorous poem at the dinner: The number of graduates at +Yale this year was seventy-eight.--The commencement of the University of +Vermont occurred on the 7th. Rev. HENRY WILKES, of Montreal, delivered +an address before the Society for Religious Inquiry, upon the Relations +of the Age to Theology. H. J. RAYMOND, of New-York, addressed the +Associate Alumni on the Duties of American Scholars, with special +reference to certain aspects of American Society; and Rev. Mr. WASHBURN, +of Newburyport, Mass., delivered an address before the Literary +Societies, on the Developments and Influences of the Spiritual +Philosophy The number of graduates was fifteen--considerably less than +usual.--Union College at Schenectady, N.Y., celebrated its commencement +on the 24th of July. Rev. Dr. S. H. Cox, of Brooklyn, delivered the +address. The number of graduates was eighty.--At Dartmouth, commencement +occurred on the 25th of July. Rev. Dr. SPRAGUE, of Albany, addressed the +alumni on the Perpetuity of Literary Influence; DAVID PAUL BROWN, Esq., +of Philadelphia, the Literary Societies, on Character, its Force and +Results; and Rev. ALBERT BARNES, of the same city, addressed the +Theological Society on the Theology of the Unknown. The number of +graduates was forty-six.--On the 24th of July, the regular +commencement-day, Hon. THEO. FRELINGHUYSEN was inaugurated as President +of Rutgers College, N.J. His address was one of great ability and +eloquence, enforcing the importance of academic education to the age and +the country. The number of graduates was twenty-four.--Amherst College +celebrated its commencement on the 8th The number of graduates was +twenty-four Rev. Dr. Cox addressed the Society of Inquiry on the +importance of having history studied as a science in our colleges. A. B. +STREET, Esq., of Albany, delivered a poem, and Mr. E. P. WHIPPLE, of +Boston, an admirable and eloquent oration on the characteristics and +tendencies of American genius. He repeated the oration at the Wesleyan +University, at Middletown, Conn.; where a brilliant oration by Prof. D. +D. WHEDON, and a poem by Mr. W. H. C. HOSMER, were delivered before the +Phi Beta Kappa Society. An able and learned address was delivered before +the Alumni by Rev. J. CUMMINGS. The number of graduates was +nineteen.--Some important changes are to be made in the organization of +Brown University, in accordance with the principles and views recently +set forth by President WAYLAND, in a published pamphlet. Greater +prominence is to be given to the study of the natural sciences as +applied to the arts of practical life, and the study of the ancient +languages is to be made optional with students. The sum of $108,000 has +been raised by subscriptions in aid of the institution. Rev. ASAHEL +KENDRICK, of Madison University, has been elected Professor of Greek; +WILLIAM A. NORTON, of Delaware College, Professor of Natural Philosophy +and Civil Engineering; and JOHN A. PORTER, of the Lawrence Scientific +School, Professor of Chemistry applied to the Arts.--Rev. Dr. Tefft, of +Cincinnati, has been elected President of the Genesee College just +established at Lima, N.Y. The sum of $100,000 has been raised for its +support. + + * * * * * + +From CALIFORNIA our intelligence is to the 15th of July, received by the +Philadelphia steamer, which brought gold to the value of over a million +of dollars. The accounts from the gold mines are unusually good. The +high water at most of the old mines prevented active operations; but +many new deposits had been discovered, especially upon the head waters +of Feather river, and between that and Sacramento river. Gold has also +been discovered at the upper end of Carson river valley, near and at the +eastern base of the Sierra Nevada. A lump of quartz mixed with gold, +weighing thirty pounds, and containing twenty-three pounds of pure gold, +has been found between the North and Middle Forks of the Yuba river. At +Nevada and the Gold Run, where the deposits were supposed to have been +exhausted, further explorations have shown it in very great abundance, +at a depth, sometimes, of forty feet below the surface. The hills and +ravines in the neighborhood are said to be very rich in gold.--A very +alarming state of things exists in the southern mines, owing, in a great +degree, to the disaffection created by the tax levied upon foreign +miners. Murders and other crimes of the most outrageous character are of +constant occurrence, and in the immediate vicinity of Sonora, it is +stated that more than twenty murders had been committed within a +fortnight. Guerrilla parties, composed mainly of Mexican robbers, were +in the mountains, creating great alarm, and rendering life and property +in their vicinity wholly insecure. Fresh Indian troubles had also broken +out on the Tuolumne: three Americans had been shot.--The Odd Fellows +have erected a grand edifice at San Francisco for the accommodation of +their order.--The Fourth of July was celebrated with great enthusiasm +throughout California.--It is stated that a line of steamers is to be +run from San Francisco direct to Canton. Whether the enterprise be +undertaken at once or not, it cannot, in the natural course of events, +be delayed many years. The settlement of California will lead, directly +or indirectly, to a constant commercial intercourse with China, and will +exert a more decided influence upon the trade and civilization of +eastern Asia, than any other event of the present century. California +can not long continue dependent upon the Atlantic coast, still less +upon the countries of Europe, for the teas, silks, spices, &c, which her +population will require. She is ten thousand miles nearer to their +native soil than either England, France, or the United States, and will, +of course, procure them for herself rather than through their agency. + +From OREGON we have intelligence to the first of July. Governor LANE has +resigned his post as governor of the territory, and was about starting +on a gold-hunting expedition. It is said that one of the richest gold +mines on the Pacific coast has been discovered in the Spokan country, +some 400 miles above Astoria, on the Columbia river. Parties were on +their way to examine it. Extensive discoveries of gold, we may say here, +are reported to have been made in Venezuela, on a branch of the river +Orinoco. The papers of that country are full of exultation over this +discovery, from which they anticipate means to pay the English debt +within a single year. + + * * * * * + +From MEXICO our dates are to the 16th of July. The ravages of the +Indians in the Northern districts still continue. In Chihuahua they have +become so extensive that a body of three hundred men was to be sent to +suppress them. The State of Durango has also been almost overrun by +them. In Sonora several severe conflicts have taken place in which the +troops were victorious. The cholera has almost ceased. + + * * * * * + +In ENGLAND, no event has excited more interest than the claim of his +seat in the House of Commons by Baron ROTHSCHILD. At his request, a +meeting of the electors of the city of London was held July 25th, to +confer on the course proper to be pursued. The meeting concluded by +resolving that Baron R. ought to claim his seat, which he accordingly +did on the 26th of July. He asked to be sworn on the Old Testament, +against which Sir Robert Inglis protested. The question was debated for +several days, and was finally postponed until the next session.--The +proceedings of PARLIAMENT, during the month, have not been of special +interest. The House of Commons passed the resolutions approving of the +foreign policy of the ministry, and especially its conduct in regard to +the claims on the government of Greece, by a vote of ayes 310, nays 264, +showing a ministerial majority of 46. The selection of a site for the +great Industrial Exhibition of next year has elicited a good deal of +discussion. Hyde Park has been fixed upon as the site against the very +earnest remonstrances of many who live in its vicinity; and the building +committee have accepted an offer made by Mr. Paxton, to erect a building +chiefly of iron and glass. It is to be of wood-work to the height of +eighteen feet, and arrangements have been made to provide complete +ventilation, and to secure a moderate temperature. It is to be made in +Birmingham, and the entire cost is stated at about a million of +dollars. There will be on the ground-floor alone seven miles of tables. +There will be 1,200,000 square feet of glass, 24 miles of one +description of gutter, and 218 miles of "sash-bar;" and in the +construction 4500 tons of iron will be expended. The wooden floor will +be arranged with "divisions," so as to allow the dust to fall +through.--An attempt was made to secure a vote in the House of Commons +in favor of repealing the malt-tax, on the ground that it pressed too +heavily upon the agricultural interest; but it failed, 247 voting +against it and 123 in its favor.--An effort was made to extend still +further the principles of the reform bill, by making the franchise of +counties in England and Wales the same as it is in boroughs, giving the +right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of +£10. The motion was warmly advocated by several members, but opposed by +Lord John Russel, partly on the ground that it was brought forward at a +wrong time, and partly because he thought the changes contemplated +inconsistent with the maintenance of the monarchy, the House of Lords, +and the House of Commons, which were fundamental parts of the British +Constitution. The motion was lost by 159 to 100.--A motion to inquire +into the working of the existing regulation concerning Sunday labor in +the Post-offices was carried 195 to 112.--A motion made by Lord John +Russell to erect a monument in Westminster Abbey, to the memory of Sir +Robert Peel was carried by acclamation.--The sum of £12,000 per annum +was voted to the present Duke of Cambridge, and £3000 to the Princess +Mary of Cambridge--being grandchildren of the late King George III.--not +without strenuous opposition from members, who thought the sums +unnecessarily large. + +A petition was recently presented in the House of Lords, purporting to +be signed by 18,000 rate payers, against the bill for the Liverpool +Corporation Water-works. In consequence of suspicions that were +entertained, the document was referred to a select committee and it was +found on investigation that many of the names had been affixed by +clerks, and the paper then wet to make it appear that it had been +carried round from place to place in the rain. Evidence was taken +showing that this had been a very common practice of agents employed by +the parties interested to get up signatures to petitions. The Committee +in the House of Lords had expressed themselves very strongly as to the +necessity of some law for preventing such abuses in future.--The +criminal tables for the year 1849 have been laid before Parliament. Of +the persons committed for trial during the year, 6786 were acquitted, +and 21,001 convicted. Of these convicted one in 318 was sentenced to +death, and one in 8 to transportation. There has been no execution since +1841 except for murder: of 19 persons convicted during the past year of +this offense 15 were executed, _five_ of whom were females.--The Royal +Agricultural Society held its annual meeting July 18th at Exeter. Mr. +LAWRENCE the American Minister at London, and Mr. RIVES the Minister at +Paris were both present and made eloquent speeches, upon the +agricultural state of England.--The boiler of the steamer Red Rover at +Bristol exploded July 22d, killing six persons and severely injuring +many others.--An explosion took place in the coal-pits belonging to Mr. +Sneden, near Airdrie on the 23d, by which _nineteen_ persons were +instantly killed. Only one man in the mine escaped; he saved his life by +throwing himself upon the ground the moment he heard the explosion. The +men were not provided with Davy safety-lamps.--At a meeting of the Royal +Humane Society a new invention of Lieutenant Halkett, of the Navy, was +introduced. It is a boat-cloak which may be worn, like a common cloak on +the shoulders, and may be inflated in three or four minutes by a bellows +and will then sustain six or eight persons--forming a kind of boat which +it is almost impossible to overturn. A trial was to be made of its +efficacy.--Sir Thomas Wilde has been made Lord Chancellor and raised to +the peerage by the title of Baron Truro of Bowes, in the County of +Middlesex.--Sir Robert Peel, Bart., has been returned to Parliament for +the borough of Tamworth made vacant by the death of his father. It is +stated that Sir Robert's last injunction was that his children should +not receive titles or pensions for any supposed services their father +might have rendered. This is in keeping with the severe simplicity of +his character and negatives conclusively the representations of those +who have charged his advocacy of measures designed to aid the poor, to +interested motives of selfish or family ambition. A subscription has +been set on foot for a testimonial to his memory to be called "the +Working-man's Monument." + + * * * * * + +The foreign LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month is unusually meagre. The +only work of great interest that has been published is WORDSWORTH'S +posthumous Poem, _The Prelude_, of which a somewhat extended notice will +be found on a preceding page. It has already been republished in this +country, where it will find a wide circle of sympathizing readers. The +Household Narrative, in summing up the literary news, says that another +note-worthy poem of the month, also a posthumous publication though +written some years ago, is a dramatic piece attributed to Mr. Beddoes, +and partaking largely of his well-known eccentricity and genius, called +_Death's Jest-Book or the Fool's Tragedy_. A republication of Mr. +Cottle's twenty-four books of _Alfred_, though the old pleasant butt and +"jest-book" of his ancient friend Charles Lamb, is said hardly to +deserve even so many words of mention. Nor is there much novelty in _A +Selection from the Poems and Dramatic Works of Theodore Korner_, though +the translation is a new one, and by the clever translator of the +_Nibelungen_. To this brief catalogue of works of fancy is added the +mention of two somewhat clever tales in one volume, with the title of +_Hearts in Mortmain_ and _Cornelia_, intended to illustrate the working +of particular phases of mental emotion; and another by Mrs. Trollope, +called _Petticoat Government_.----In the department of history there is +nothing more important than a somewhat small volume with the very large +title of the _Correspondence of the Emperor Charles V. and his +Embassadors at the Courts of England and France_; which turns out to be +a limited selection from letters existing in the archives at Vienna, but +not uninteresting to English readers, from the fact of their incidental +illustrations of the history of Henry VIII., and the close of Wolsey's +career. Two books of less pretension have contributed new facts to the +history of the late civil war in Hungary; the first from the Austrian +point of view by an _Eye-witness_, and the second from the Hungarian by +_Max Schlesinger_. Mr. Baillie Cochrane has also contributed his mite to +the elucidation of recent revolutions in a volume called _Young Italy_, +which is chiefly remarkable for its praise of Lord Brougham, its defense +of the Pope, its exaggerated scene-painting of the murder of Rossi, its +abuse of the Roman Republic, and its devotion of half a line to the +mention of Mazzini. + +Better worthy of brief record are the few miscellaneous publications, +which comprise an excellent new translation of _Rochefoucauld's Maxims_, +with a better account of the author, and more intelligent notes, than +exist in any previous edition; most curious and interesting _Memorials +of the Empire of Japan in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries_, +which Mr. Rundell of the East India House has issued under the +superintendence of the Hakluyt Society, and which illustrate English +relations with those Japanese; an intelligent and striking summary of +the _Antiquities of Richborough, Reculver, and Lynne_, written by Mr. +Roach Smith and illustrated by Mr. Fairholt, which exhibits the results +of recent discoveries of many remarkable Roman antiquities in Kent; and +a brief, unassuming narrative of the Hudson's Bay Company's _Expedition +to the Shores of the Arctic Sea in 1846 and 1847_, by the commander of +the expedition, Mr. John Rae. + +Ballooning in France and England seems to have become a temporary mania. +The ascent of Messrs. Barral and Bixio, of which a detailed and very +interesting account will be found in a preceding page, has encouraged +imitators in various styles. One M. Poitevin made an ascent in Paris +seated on a horse, which was attached to the balloon in place of the +car. The London _Athenæum_ invokes the aid of the police to prevent such +needless cruelty to animals, and to exercise proper supervision over the +madmen who undertake such fool-hardy feats.----A plaster mask said to +have been taken from the face of Shakspeare, and bearing the date 1616 +on its back, has been brought to London from Mayence, which is said to +have been procured from an ecclesiastical personage of high rank at +Cologne. It excites considerable attention among virtuosos.----The +English, undeterred by the indignation which has been poured out upon +Lord Elgin by BYRON and others for rifling Athens of its antiquities for +display at home, are practicing the same desecration in regard to the +treasures discovered in Nineveh by Mr. Layard. It is announced that the +Great Bull and upwards of 100 tons of sculpture excavated by him, may be +expected in England in September for the British Museum. The French +Government are also making extensive collections of Assyrian works of +art.----Among those who perished by the loss of the British steamer +_Orion_ was Dr. JOHN BURNS, Professor of Surgery in the University of +Glasgow, and a man of considerable eminence in his profession. He was +the author of several works upon various medical subjects and had also +written upon literary and theological topics. Dr. GRAY, Professor of +Oriental languages in the same university has also deceased within the +month.----A new filtering apparatus, intended to render sea-water +drinkable, has recently been brought to the notice of the Paris +Academy.----A letter in the London _Athenæum_ from the Nile complains +bitterly of the constant devastation of the remains of ancient temples, +&c., caused by the rapacious economy of the government. The writer +states that immense sculptured and painted blocks have been taken from +the temple of Karnac, for the construction of a sugar factory; a fine +ancient tomb has also entirely disappeared under this process. Very +earnest complaints are also made of the Prussian traveler Dr. Lepsius, +for carrying away relies of antiquity, and for destroying others. The +writer urges that if this process is continued Egypt will lose far more +by the cessation of English travel than she can gain in the value of +material used.----Rev. W. KIRBY, distinguished as one of the first +entomologists of the age, died at his residence in Suffolk, July 4th, at +the advanced age of 91. He has left behind him several works of great +ability and reputation on his favorite science.----It is stated that the +late Sir Robert Peel left his papers to Lord Mahon and Mr. Edward +Cardwell M.P.----Among the deaths of the month we find that of an +amiable man and accomplished writer, Mr. B. Simmons, whose name will be +recollected as that of a frequent contributor of lyrical poems of a high +order to _Blackwood's Magazine_, and to several of the Annuals. Mr. +Simmons, who held a situation in the Excise office, died July +19th.----GUIZOT, the eminent historian, on the marriage of his two +daughters recently to descendants of the illustrious Hollander De WITT, +was unable to give them any thing as marriage portions. Notwithstanding +the eminent positions he has filled for so much of his life--positions +which most men would have made the means of acquiring enormous wealth, +GUIZOT is still poor. This fact alone furnishes at once evidence and +illustration of his sterling integrity.----A new History of Spain, by +ST. HILAIRE, is in course of publication in Paris. He has been engaged +upon it for a number of years, and it is said to be a work of great +ability and learning.----LEVERRIER, the French astronomer, has published +a strong appeal in favor of throwing the electric telegraph open to the +public in France, as it has been in the United States. At present it is +guarded by the government as a close monopoly. His paper contains a good +deal of interesting matter in regard to this greatest of modern +inventions.----MEINHOLD, the author of the "Amber Witch," has lately +been fined and imprisoned for slandering a brother clergyman. This is +the second instance in which he has been convicted of this +offense.----M. GUIZOT has addressed a long letter to each of the five +classes of the Institute of France, to declare that he can not accept +the candidateship offered him for a seat in the Superior Council of +Public Instruction.----Sir EDWARD BULWER LYTTON is to be a candidate for +the House of Commons, with Colonel Sibthorpe, for Lincoln. He has a new +play forthcoming for the Princess's Theater.----Miss STRICKLAND has in +preparation a series of volumes on the Queens of Scotland, as a +companion to her interesting and successful work on the Queens of +England.----Sir FRANCIS KNOWLES has recently taken out a patent for +producing iron in an improved form. In blast-furnaces, as at present +constructed, the ore, the flux, and combustibles, are mixed together; +and the liberated gases of the fuel injure the quality of the iron, and +cause great waste, in the shape of slag. By the new process the ore is +to be kept separate from the sulphureous fuel in a compartment contrived +for the purpose, in the centre of the furnace, where it will be in +contact with peat only; and in this way the waste will be avoided, and a +quality of metal will be produced fully equal to the best Swedish. The +invention is likely to be one of considerable importance.----Professor +JOHNSTON, the distinguished English agriculturist, who visited this +country last year, and lectured in several of the principal cities, at a +late farmers' meeting in Berwickshire, gave a general account of the +state of agriculture in America, as it fell under his personal +observation. He represented it in the Northern States as about what it +was in Scotland eighty or ninety years ago. The land in all New England +he said had been exhausted by bad farming, and even in the Western +States the tendency of things was to the same result. He thought it +would not be long before America would be utterly unable to export wheat +to England in any large quantity. + + * * * * * + +Affairs in FRANCE are still unsettled. The Government goes steadily +forward in the enactment of laws restraining the Press, forbidding free +discussion among the people, diminishing popular rights and preparing +the way, by all the means in their power, for another revolution. The +most explicit provisions of the Constitution have been set aside and the +government of the Republic is really more despotic than was that of +Louis Philippe at any time during his reign. A warm debate occurred in +the Assembly on the bill for restricting the liberty of the press. It +commenced on the 8th of July and gave occasion to a violent scene. M. +Rouher, the Minister of Justice, spoke of the Revolution of February as +a "disastrous catastrophe," which elicited loud demands from the +opposition that he should be called to order. The President refused to +call him to order and M. Girardin threatened to resign saying, that he +would not sit in an assembly where such language was permitted. He did +not resign, however, but his friends contented themselves with handing +in a protest the next day which the President refused to receive. The +debate then proceeded and an amendment was passed, 313 to 281, declaring +that all leading articles in journals should be signed by the writers. +On the 15th an amendment was adopted that papers publishing a +_feuilleton_ should pay an additional tax of one centime beyond the +ordinary stamp duty. On the 16th the bill was finally passed by a vote +of 390 to 265. + + * * * * * + +From PORTUGAL we learn that Mr. CLAY, having failed to secure from the +Portuguese government a compliance with the demands he was instructed to +make, asked for his passports and withdrew. The difficulty engages the +attention of the Portuguese Minister at Washington, and the Department +of State, and it is supposed that it will be amicably settled. No +details of the negotiations in progress have been made public, but it is +understood that no doubt exists as to the result. + + * * * * * + +In GERMANY the event of the month which excites most interest in this +country, is the death of NEANDER. Our preceding pages contain a notice +of his life, writings, and character, which renders any further mention +here unnecessary.----At Berlin the Academy of Sciences has been holding +a sitting, according to its statutes, in honor of the memory of +Leibnitz. In the course of the oration delivered on the occasion it was +stated that, the 4th of August next being the 50th anniversary of the +admission of Alexander von Humboldt as a member of the Academy, it has +been resolved, in celebration of the event, to place a marble bust of +the "Nestor of Science" in the lecture-room of the Society. + + * * * * * + +From SPAIN there is nothing of importance. The Queen, Isabella, gave +birth to an heir, on the 13th of July, but it lived scarcely an hour, so +that the Duchess of Montpensier is still heir presumptive to the throne. +The Count of Montemolin has married a sister of the king of Naples, and +the Spanish minister, taking offense, has left that court. + + * * * * * + +From DENMARK there is intelligence of new hostilities. The +Schleswig-Holstein difficulty, which was supposed to have been settled, +has broken out afresh. The negotiations which had been in progress +between the five great powers, were broken off by Prussia, she declaring +that neither Austria nor Prussia could ever assent to considering the +provinces in question as parts of the Danish monarchy. The failure to +agree upon satisfactory terms, led both parties to prepare for renewed +hostilities, and a severe engagement took place on the 25th of July, +between the Danes and the Holsteiners, in which the latter were +defeated. The field of action was Idstedt, a small village on the +Flensburg road. The Danish army amounted to about 45,000 men, commanded +by General Von Krogh; the army of the Holsteiners to 28,000 only, +commanded at the centre by General Willisen, a Prussian volunteer; at +the right by Colonel Von der Horst, also a Prussian, and at the left by +Colonel Von der Taun, a Bavarian officer, of chivalrous courage and +great impetuosity. The battle commenced at three o'clock in the morning +with an attack of the Danes on both wings of the enemy. They were very +warmly received, and after the battle had lasted two or three hours, +they made an assault upon the centre, with infantry, cavalry, and +artillery at the same time. They were so strongly repulsed, however, +that they were compelled to retreat. An attack of their whole force, +concentrated upon the centre and right wing of the Holsteiners was more +successful, and by bringing up a reserve, after ten or twelve hours hard +fighting, they compelled the Holstein centre to give way, and by two +o'clock the army was in full retreat, but in good order. The Danes +appear to have been either too fatigued or too indolent to follow up +their advantage. The members of the Holstein government, who were in +Schleswig, fled immediately to Kiel, on hearing the battle was lost; all +the officials also left the town; the post-office was shut, the doors +locked, and all business suspended. The battle was more sanguinary than +that fought under the walls of Frederica on the 6th of July last year. +The loss on both sides has been estimated at about 7000 men in killed, +wounded, and missing--of which the Holstein party say the greater share +has fallen upon the Danes. Another engagement is said to have taken +place on the 1st of August near Mohede, in which the Danes were +defeated, with but slight loss on either side. The interference of the +great powers is anticipated. + + * * * * * + +From INDIA and the EAST there is little news of interest. A terrible +accident occurred at Benares on the 1st of May. A fleet of thirty boats, +containing ordnance stores, was destroyed by the explosion of 3000 +barrels of gunpowder with which they were freighted. Four hundred and +twenty persons were killed on the spot, about 800 more were wounded, and +a number of houses were leveled with the ground. The cause of the +disaster remained unexplained, as not a human being was left alive who +could tell the tale.----The city of Canton has been visited with a +severe fever which has been very destructive, though it had spared the +European factories.----The great Oriental diamond, seized by the British +as part of the spoils of the Sikh war, was presented to the Queen on the +3d of July, having arrived from India a few days before. It was +discovered in the mines of Golconda three hundred years ago, and first +belonged to the Mogul emperor, the father of the great Aurungzebee. Its +shape and size are like those of the pointed end of a hen's egg; and its +value is estimated at two millions of pounds sterling.----News has been +received of an insurrection against the Dutch government in the district +of Bantam. The insurgents attacked the town of Anjear, in the Straits of +Sunda, but, after burning the houses, were driven back to their +fastnesses by the military. + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + +IN MEMORIAM. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, and Fields. 12mo. pp. 216. + +The impressive beauty of these touching lyrics proceeds, in a great +degree, from the "sad sincerity" which so evidently inspired their +composition. In memory of a youthful friend, who was distinguished for +his rare early promise, his ripe and manifold accomplishments, and a +strange, magnetic affinity with the genius of the author, these +exquisite poems are the gushing expression of a heart touched and +softened, but not enervated by deep sorrow. The poet takes a pensive +delight in gathering up every memorial of the brother of his affections; +his fancy teems with all sweet and beautiful images to show the +tenderness of his grief; every object in external nature recalls the +lost treasure; until, after reveling in the luxury of woe, he regains a +serene tranquillity, with the lapse of many years. With the exquisite +pathos that pervades this volume, there is no indulgence in weak and +morbid sentiment. It is free from the preternatural gloom which so often +makes elegiac poetry an abomination to every healthy intellect. The +tearful bard does not allow himself to be drowned in sorrow, but draws +from its pure and bitter fountains the sources of noble inspiration and +earnest resolve. No one can read these natural records of a spirit, +wounded but not crushed, without fresh admiration of the rich poetical +resources, the firm, masculine intellect, and the unbounded wealth of +feeling, which have placed TENNYSON in such a lofty position among the +living poets of England. + + * * * * * + +Harper and Brothers have recently published _The History of Darius_, by +JACOB ABBOTT, _The English Language in its Elements and Forms_, by +WILLIAM C. FOWLER, _Julia Howard_, a Romance, by Mrs. MARTIN BELL, +_Five Years of a Hunter's Life in the Interior of South Africa_, by R. +G. CUMMING, _Health, Disease, and Remedy_, by GEORGE MOORE, and _Latter +Day Pamphlets_, No. viii., by THOMAS CARLYLE. + +_The History of Darius_ is one of Mr. ABBOTT'S popular historical +series, written in the style of easy and graceful idiomatic English +(though not always free from inaccuracies), which give a pleasant flavor +to all the productions of the author. In a neat preface, with which the +volume is introduced, Mr. Abbott explains the reasons for the mildness +and reserve with which he speaks of the errors, and often the crimes of +the persons whose history he describes. He justifies this course, both +on the ground of its intrinsic propriety, and of the authority of +Scripture, which, as he justly observes, relates the narratives of crime +"in a calm, simple, impartial, and forbearing spirit, which leads us to +condemn, the sins, but not to feel a pharisaical resentment and wrath +against the sinner." The present volume sets forth the leading facts in +the life of Darius the Great with remarkable clearness and condensation, +and can scarcely be too highly commended, both for the use of juvenile +readers, and of those who wish to become acquainted with the subject, +but who have not the leisure to pursue a more extended course of +historical study. + +Professor FOWLER'S work on the English Language is a profound treatise +on the Philosophy of Grammar, the fruit of laborious and patient +research for many years, and an addition of unmistakable value to our +abundant philological treasures. It treats of the English Language in +its elements and forms, giving a copious history of its origin and +development, and ascending to the original principles on which its +construction is founded. The work is divided into eight parts, each of +which presents a different aspect of the subject, yet all of them, in +their mutual correlation, and logical dependence, are intended to form a +complete and symmetrical system. We are acquainted with no work on this +subject which is better adapted for a text-book in collegiate +instruction, for which purpose it is especially designed by the author. +At the same time it will prove an invaluable aid to more advanced +students of the niceties of our language, and may even be of service to +the most practiced writers, by showing them the raw material, in its +primitive state, out of which they cunningly weave together their most +finished and beautiful fabrics. + +_Julia Howard_ is the reprint of an Irish story of exciting interest, +which, by its powerful delineation of passion, its bright daguerreotypes +of character, and the wild intensity of its plot, must become a favorite +with the lovers of high-wrought fiction. + +We have given a taste of CUMMING'S _Five Years of a Hunter's Life_ in +the last number of _The New Monthly Magazine_, from which it will be +seen that the writer is a fierce, blood-thirsty Nimrod, whose highest +ideal is found in the destruction of wild-beasts, and who relates his +adventures with the same eagerness of passion which led him to +expatriate himself from the charms of English society in the tangled +depths of the African forest. Every page is redolent of gunpowder, and +you almost hear the growl of the victim as he falls before the unerring +shot of this mighty hunter. + +Dr. MOORE'S book on _Health, Disease, and Remedy_ is a plain, practical, +common-sense treatise on hygiene, without confinement in the harness of +any of the modern _opathies_. His alert and cheerful spirit will prevent +the increase of hypochondria by the perusal of his volume, and his +directions are so clear and definite, that they can be easily +comprehended even by the most nervous invalid. Its purpose can not be +more happily described than in the words of the author. "It is neither a +popular compendium of physiology, hand-book of physic, an art of healing +made easy, a medical guide-book, a domestic medicine, a digest of odd +scraps on digestion, nor a dry reduction of a better book, but rather a +running comment on a few prominent truths in medical science, viewed +according to the writer's own experience. The object has been to assist +the unprofessional reader to form a sober estimate of Physic, and enable +him to second the physician's efforts to promote health." Dr. Moore's +habits of thought and expression are singularly direct, and he never +leaves you at a loss for his meaning. + +We can not say so much for CARLYLE, whose eighth number of _Latter-Day +Tracts_, on _Jesuitism_, brings that flaming and fantastic series to a +close, with little detriment, we presume, to the public. + +Phillips, Sampson, and Co. have published a critique on Carlyle, by +ELIZUR WRIGHT, the pungent editor of the Boston Chronotype, entitled +_Perforations of the "Latter-Day Pamphlets, by one of the Eighteen +Million Bores,"_ in which he makes some effective hits, reducing the +strongest positions of his opponent to impalpable powder. + +_The Odd Fellows' Offering for_ 1851, published by Edward Walker, is the +ninth volume of this beautiful annual, and is issued with the earliest +of its competitors for public favor. As a representative of the literary +character of the Order, it is highly creditable to the Institution. +Seven of the eleven illustrations are from original paintings by native +artists. The frontispiece, representing the Marriage of Washington, +appeals forcibly to the national sentiment, and is an appropriate +embellishment for a work dedicated to a large and increasing fraternity, +whose principles are in admirable harmony with those of our free +institutions. + +_Haw-Ho-Noo, or, Records of a Tourist_, by CHARLES LANMAN, published by +Lippincott, Grambo and Co., under an inappropriate title, presents many +lively and agreeable descriptions of adventures in various journeys in +different parts of the United States. The author has a keen sense of the +beauties of nature, is always at home in the forest or at the side of +the mountain stream, and tells all sorts of stories about trout, salmon, +beavers, maple-sugar, rattle-snakes, and barbecues, with a heart-felt +unction that is quite contagious. As a writer of simple narrative, his +imagination sometimes outstrips his discretion, but every one who reads +his book will admit that he is not often surpassed for the fresh and +racy character of his anecdotes. + +_The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt_, published by Harper and Brothers, as +our readers may judge from the specimens given in a former number of +this Magazine, is one of the most charming works that have lately been +issued from the English press. Leigh Hunt so easily falls into the +egotistic and ridiculous, that it is a matter of wonder how he has +escaped from them to so great a degree in the present volumes. His +vanity seems to have been essentially softened by the experience of +life, the asperities of his nature greatly worn away, and his mind +brought under the influence of a kindly and genial humor. With his rare +mental agility, his susceptibility to many-sided impressions, and his +catholic sympathy with almost every phase of character and intellect, he +could not fail to have treasured up a rich store of reminiscences, and +his personal connection with the most-celebrated literary men of his +day, gives them a spirit and flavor, which could not have been obtained +by the mere records of his individual biography. The work abounds with +piquant anecdotes of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, Byron, Keats, Lamb, +Hazlitt, and Moore--gives a detailed exposition of Hunt's connection +with the Examiner, and his imprisonment for libel--his residence in +Italy--his return to England--and his various literary projects--and +describes with the most childlike frankness the present state of his +opinions and feelings on the manifold questions which have given a +direction to his intellectual activity through life. Whatever +impressions it may leave as to the character of the author, there can be +but one opinion as to the fascination of his easy, sprightly, gossiping +style, and the interest which attaches to the literary circles, whose +folding-doors he not ungracefully throws open. + +The _United States Railroad Guide and Steam-boat Journal_, by Holbrook +and Company, is one of the best manuals for the use of travelers now +issued by the monthly press, containing a great variety of valuable +information, in a neat and portable form. + +_Hints to Young Men on the True Relation of the Sexes_, by JOHN WARE, +M.D., is a brief treatise, prepared by a distinguished scientific man of +Boston, in which an important subject is treated with delicacy, good +sense, and an earnest spirit. It is published by Tappan, Whittimore, and +Mason, Boston. + +Among the publications of the last month by Lippincott, Grambo, and +Company, is the _Iris_, an elegant illuminated souvenir, edited by +Professor JOHN S. HART, and comprising literary contributions from +distinguished American authors, several of whom, we notice, are from the +younger class of writers, who have already won a proud and enviable fame +by the admirable productions of their pens. In addition to the +well-written preface by the Editor, we observe original articles by +STODDARD, BOKER, CAROLINE MAY, ALICE CAREY, PHEBE CAREY, Rev. CHARLES T. +BROOKS, MARY SPENSER PEASE, EDITH MAY, ELIZA A. STARR, KATE CAMPBELL, +and others, most of which are superior specimens of the lighter form of +periodical literature. The volume is embellished with exquisite beauty, +containing four brilliantly illuminated pages, and eight line +engravings, executed in the highest style of London art. We are pleased +to welcome so beautiful a work from the spirited and intelligent house +by which it is issued, as a promise that it will sustain the well-earned +reputation of the old establishment of Grigg, Elliot, and Co., of which +it is the successor. The head of that firm, Mr. JOHN GRIGG, we may take +this occasion to remark, presents as striking a history as can be +furnished by the records of bookselling in this country. Commencing life +without the aid of any external facilities, and obtaining the highest +eminence in his profession, by a long career of industry, enterprise, +and ability, he has retired from active business with an ample fortune, +and the universal esteem of a large circle of friends. We trust that his +future years may be as happy, as his busy life has been exemplary and +prosperous. + +George P. Putnam has published _The Chronicle of the Conquest of +Granada_, by WASHINGTON IRVING, forming the fourteenth volume of the +beautiful revised edition of Irving's collected works. Since the first +publication of this romantic prose-poem, the fictitious dress, in which +the inventive fancy of the author had arrayed the story, had been made +the subject of somewhat stringent criticism; Fray Antonio Agapida had +been found to belong to a Spanish branch of the family of Diedrich +Knickerbocker; and doubts were thus cast over the credibility of the +whole veracious chronicle. Mr. Irving extricates himself from the +dilemma with his usual graceful ingenuity. In a characteristic note to +this edition, he explains the circumstances in which the history had its +origin, and shows conclusively that whatever dimness may be thrown over +the identity of the worthy Fray Antonio, the work itself was constructed +from authentic documents, and is faithful in all its essential points to +historical fact. While occupied at Madrid in writing the life of +Columbus, Mr. Irving was strongly impressed with the rich materials +presented by the war of Granada, for a composition which should blend +the interest of romance with the fidelity of history. Alive as he always +is to picturesque effect, he was struck with the contrast presented by +the combatants of Oriental and European creeds, costumes, and manners; +with the hairbrained enterprises, chivalric adventures, and wild forays +through mountain regions; and with the moss-trooping assaults on +cliff-built castles and cragged fortresses, which succeeded each other +with dazzling brilliancy and variety. Fortunately in the well-stored +libraries of Madrid, he had access to copious and authentic chronicles, +often in manuscript, written at the time by eye-witnesses, and in some +instances, by persons who had been actually engaged in the scenes +described. At a subsequent period, after completing the Life of +Columbus, he made an extensive tour in Andalusia, visiting the ruins of +the Moorish towns, fortresses, and castles, and the wild mountain +passes, which had been the principal theatre of the war, and passing +some time in the stately old palace of the Alhambra, the once favorite +abode of the Moorish monarchs. With this preparation, he finished the +manuscript of which he had already drawn up the general outline, +adopting the fiction of a Spanish monk as the chronicler of the history. +By this innocent stratagem, Mr. Irving intended to personify in Fray +Antonio the monkish zealots who made themselves busy in the campaigns, +marring the chivalry of the camp by the bigotry of the cloister, and +exulting in every act of intolerance toward the Moors. + +This ingenious explanation will give a fresh interest to the present +edition. The costume of the garrulous Agapida is still retained, +although the narrative is reduced more strictly within historical +bounds, and is enriched with new facts that have been recently brought +to light by the erudite researches of Alcántara and other diligent +explorers of this romantic field. With excellent taste, the publisher +has issued this volume in a style of typographical elegance not unworthy +the magnificent paragraphs of the golden-mouthed author. + +_The Life and Times of General John Lamb_, by ISAAC Q. LEAKE, published +at Albany by J. Munsell, is an important contribution to the history of +the Revolution, compiled from original documents, many of which possess +great interest. + +_Progress in the Northwest_ is the title of the Annual Discourse +delivered before the Historical Society of Ohio, by the President, +WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, and published by H. W. Derby and Co., Cincinnati. +It gives a rapid description of the progress of cultivation and +improvement in the Northwestern portion of the United States, showing +the giant steps which have been taken, especially, within the last +twenty years, on that broad and fertile domain. The conditions of future +advancement are also discussed in the spirit of philosophical analysis, +and with occasional touches of genuine eloquence. + +EDWARD EVERETT'S _Oration at the Celebration of the Battle of Bunker +Hill_, published by Redding and Co., Boston, describes some of the +leading incidents in that opening scene of the American Revolution, and +is distinguished for the rhetorical felicity, the picturesque beauty of +expression, and the patriotic enthusiasm which have given a wide +celebrity to the anniversary performances of the author. Its flowing +melody of style, combined with the impressive tones and graceful manner +of the speaker, enables us to imagine the effect which is said to have +been produced by its delivery. The ability exhibited in Mr. EVERETT'S +expressive and luminous narrative, if devoted to an elaborate +historical composition, would leave him with but few rivals in this +department of literature. + +_Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society_ of Harvard University, by +TIMOTHY WALKER, published by James Munroe and Co., Boston, is a +temperate discussion of the Reform Spirit of the day, abounding in +salutary cautions and judicious discriminations. The style of the +Oration savors more of the man of affairs than of the practical writer, +and its good sense and moderate tone must have commended it to the +cultivated audience before which it was delivered. + +_The Poem on the American Legend_, by BAYARD TAYLOR, pronounced on the +same occasion, and published by John Bartlett, Cambridge, is a graceful +portraiture of the elements of romance and poetry in the traditions of +our country, and contains passages of uncommon energy of versification, +expressing a high order of moral and patriotic sentiment. His allusion +to the special legends of different localities are very felicitous in +their tone, and the tribute to the character of the lamented President +is a fine instance of the condensation and forcible brevity which Mr. +Taylor commands with eminent success. + +A useful and seasonable work, entitled _Europe, Past and Present_, by +FRANCIS H. UNGEWITTER, LL.D., has been issued by G. P. Putnam, which +will be found to contain a mass of information, carefully arranged and +digested, of great service to the student of European Geography and +History. The author, who is a native German, has published several +extensive geographical works in his own country, which have given him +the reputation of a sound and accurate scholar in that department of +research. He appears to have made a faithful and discriminating use of +the abundant materials at his command, and has produced a work which can +not fail to do him credit in his adopted land. + +_The Architecture of Country Houses_, by A. J. DOWNING, published by D. +Appleton and Co., is from the pen of a writer whose former productions +entitle him to the rank of a standard authority on the attractive +subject of the present volume. Mr. Downing has certainly some uncommon +qualifications for the successful accomplishment of his task, which +requires no less practical experience and knowledge than a sound and +cultivated taste. He is familiar with the best publications of previous +authors; his pursuits, have led him to a thorough appreciation of the +wants and capabilities of country life; he has been trained by the +constant influence of rural scenes; and with an eye keenly susceptible +to the effect of proportion and form, he brings the refinements of true +culture and the suggestions of a vigilant common-sense to the +improvement of Rural Architecture, which he wishes to see in harmony +with the grand and beautiful scenery of this country. His remarks in the +commencement of the volume, with regard to the general significance of +architecture are worthy of profound attention. A due observance of the +principles, which he eloquently sets forth, would rescue the fine +localities for which nature has done so much from the monstrosities in +wood and brick with which they are so often deformed. His discussion of +the materials and modes of construction are of great practical value. +With the abundance of designs which he presents, for every style of +rural building, and the careful estimates of the expense, no one who +proposes to erect a house in the country can fail to derive great +advantage from consulting his well-written and interesting pages. + +Tallis, Willoughby, & Co. are publishing as serials the _Adventures of +Don Quixote_, translated by JARVIS, and the _Complete Works of +Shakspeare_, edited by JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL. The Don Quixote is a +cheap edition, embellished with wood cuts by Tony Johannot. The +Shakspeare is illustrated with steel engravings by Rogers, Heath, +Finden, and Walker, from designs by Henry Warren, Edward Corbould, and +other English artists who are favorably known to the public. It is +intended that this edition shall contain all the writings ascribed to +the immortal dramatist, without distinction, including not only the +Poems and well-authenticated Plays, but also the Plays of doubtful +origin, or of which Shakspeare is supposed to have been only in part the +author. + +Herrman J. Meyer, a German publisher in this city, is issuing an edition +of MEYER'S _Universum_, a splendid pictorial work, which is to appear in +monthly parts, each containing four engravings on steel, and twelve of +them making an annual volume with forty-eight plates. They consist of +the most celebrated views of natural scenery, and of rare works of art, +selected from prominent objects of interest in every part of the globe. +The first number contains an engraving of Bunker Hill Monument, the +_Ecole Nationale_ at Paris, Rousseau's Hermitage at Montmorency, and the +Royal Palace at Munich, besides a well-executed vignette on the +title-page and cover. The letter-press descriptions by the author are +retained in the original language, which, in a professed American +edition, is an injudicious arrangement, serving to limit the circulation +of the work, in a great degree, to Germans, and to those familiar with +the German language. + +Mrs. CROWE'S _Night Side of Nature_, published by J. S. Redfield, is +another contribution to the literature of Ghosts and Ghost-Seers, which, +like the furniture and costume of the middle ages, seems to be coming +into fashion with many curious amateurs of novelties. The reviving taste +for this kind of speculation is a singular feature of the age, showing +the prevalence of a dissatisfied and restless skepticism, rather than an +enlightened and robust faith in spiritual realities. Mrs. Crowe is a +decided, though gentle advocate of the preternatural character of the +marvelous phenomena, of which probably every country and age presents a +more or less extended record. She has collected a large mass of +incidents, which have been supposed to bear upon the subject, many of +which were communicated to her on personal authority, and were first +brought to the notice of the public in her volume. She has pursued her +researches, with incredible industry, into the traditions of various +nations, making free use of the copious erudition of the Germans in this +department, and arranging the facts or legends she has obtained with a +certain degree of historical criticism, that gives a value to her work +as an illustration of national beliefs, without reference to its +character as a _hortus siccus_ of weird and marvelous stories. In point +of style, her volume is unexceptionable; its spirit is modest and +reverent; it can not be justly accused of superstition, though it +betrays a womanly instinct for the supernatural: and without being +imbued with any love of dogmas, breathes an unmistakable atmosphere of +purity and religious trust. The study of this subject can not be +recommended to the weak-minded and timorous, but an omnivorous digestion +may find a wholesome exercise of its capacity in Mrs. Crowe's tough +revelations. + +A volume of Discourses, entitled _Christian Thoughts on Life_, by HENRY +GILES, has been published by Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, Boston, +consisting of a series of elaborate essays, intended to gather into a +compact form some fragments of moral experience, and to give a certain +record and order to the author's desultory studies of man's interior +life. Among the subjects of which it treats are The Worth of Life, the +Continuity of Life, the Discipline of Life, Weariness of Life, and +Mystery in Religion and in Life. The views presented by Mr. Giles are +evidently the fruit of profound personal reflection; they glow with the +vitality of experience; and in their tender and pleading eloquence will +doubtless commend themselves to many human sympathies. Mr. Giles has +been hitherto most favorably known to the public in this country, as a +brilliant rhetorician, and an original and piquant literary critic; in +the present volume, he displays a rare mastery of ethical analysis and +deduction. + +W. Phillips & Co., Cincinnati, have issued an octavo volume of nearly +seven hundred pages, composed of _Lectures on the American Eclectic +System of Surgery_, by BENJAMIN L. HILL, M.D., with over one hundred +illustrative engravings. It is based on the principles of the medical +system of which the author is a distinguished practitioner. + +The _National Temperance Offering_, edited by S. F. Cary, and published +by R. Vandien, is got up in an expensive style, and is intended as a +gift-book worthy the patronage of the advocates of the Temperance +Reform. In addition to a variety of contributions both in prose and +poetry from several able writers, it contains biographical sketches of +some distinguished Temperance men, accompanied with their portraits, +among whom we notice Rev. Dr. Beecher, Horace Greeley, John H. Hawkins, +T. P. Hunt, and others. + + + + +Fashions for Early Autumn. + + +[Illustration: FIG. 1.--PROMENADE DRESS.] + +[Illustration: FIG. 2.--COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.] + +FIG 1. A PROMENADE DRESS of a beautiful lavender _taffetas_, the front +of the skirt trimmed with folds of the same, confined at regular +distances with seven flutes of lavender gauze ribbon, put on the reverse +of the folds; a double fluted frilling, rather narrow, encircles the +opening of the body, which is made high at the back, and closed in the +front with a fluting of ribbon similar to that on the skirt; _demi-long_ +sleeves, cut up in a kind of wave at the back, so as to show the under +full sleeve of spotted white muslin. Chemisette of fulled muslin, +confined with bands of needlework. Scarf of white China _crape_, +beautifully embroidered, and finished with a deep, white, silk fringe. +Drawn _capote_ of pink _crape_, adorned in the interior with +half-wreaths of green myrtle. + +FIG. 2. COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.--A dress of white _barège_ trimmed +with three deep vandyked flounces put on close to each other; high body, +formed of worked inlet, finished with a stand-up row round the throat; +the sleeves descend as low as the elbow, where they are finished with +two deep frillings, vandyked similar to the flounces. Half-long gloves +of straw-colored kid, surmounted with a bracelet of black velvet. Drawn +_capote_ of white _crape_, adorned with clusters of the _rose de mott_ +both in the interior and exterior. _Pardessus_ of pink _glacé_ silk, +trimmed with three frillings of the same, edged with a narrow silk +fringe, which also forms a heading to the same; over each hip is a +trimming _en tablier_ formed of the fringe; short sleeves, trimmed with +one fulling edged with fringe; these sleeves are of the same piece as +the cape, not cut separate; the trimming over the top of the arms being +similar to that under, and formed also of fringe; this _pardessus_ is +perfectly round in its form, and only closes just upon the front of the +waist. + +MORNING CAPS which are slightly ornamented, vary more in the way in +which they are trimmed, than in the positive form; some being trimmed +with _chicorées_, wreaths of gauze ribbon, or knobs of ribbon edged with +a festooned open-work encircling a simple round of _tulle_, or what is +perhaps prettier, a cluster of lace. A pretty form, differing a little +from the monotonous round, is composed of a round forming a star, the +points being cut off; these points are brought close together, and are +encircled with a narrow _bavolet_, the front part being formed so as to +descend just below the ears, approaching somewhat to the appearance of +the front of a capote. A pretty style of morning cap are those made of +India muslin, _à petit papillon_, flat, edged with a choice Mechlin +lace, and having three _ricochets_ and a bunch of fancy ribbon placed +upon each side, from which depend the _brides_ or strings. Others are +extremely pretty, made of the _appliqué_ lace, rich Mechlin, or +needlework, and are sometimes ornamented with flowers, giving a +lightness to their appearance. + +[Illustration: MORNING CAPS.] + +FIG. 4. MORNING COSTUME.--Dress and pardessus of printed cambric muslin, +the pattern consisting of wreaths and bouquets of flowers. Jupon of +plain, white cambric muslin, edged with a border of rich open +needlework. The sleeves of the pardessus are gathered up in front of the +arm. The white under-sleeves, which do not descend to the wrists, are +finished by two rows of vandyked needlework. A small needlework collar. +Lace cap of the round form, placed very backward on the head, and +trimmed with full coques of pink and green ribbon at each ear. + +[Illustration: FIG. 4--MORNING COSTUME.] + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +Minor errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. + +The following typographical errors have been corrected: + + Page Corrected Text Original had + 435 fine view of the Firth of Forth Frith + 439 when the curtains of the evening curttains + 456 so I couldn't sleep comfortable could'nt + 465 splendid creature on which he is mounted spendid + 486 ancient hilarity of the English peasant peasaat + 496 I shall not readily forget, readi- + 497 "They didn't think so at Enghein." did'nt + 507 Andrew to be out so late to to + 522 I was no sooner in bed was was + 524 Were murmuring to the moon! to to + 532 heavy frames, hung round the walls roung + 549 he is justly punished for his offenses punnished + 549 publisher gives £500 gives gives + 565 Progress of the World of of + 566 be very rich in gold be be + 567 published is WORDSWORTH'S posthumous WORDSWORT'S + +The following words with questionable spellings have been retained: +auspicies, dacent, dacency, Elizabethean, vleys. Variant spellings of +dillettanti and dilettanti have been retained. Inconsistent hyphenation +is as per the original. + +The following errors which can not be corrected were noted: + +On page 520, it appears that one or more lines may be missing from the +original here: + + "sulphur mixed with it--and they said, + Indeed it was putting a great affront on the" + +On page 560, in the paragraph starting "A communication from M. +Trémaux..." the protagonist is later referred to as M. Trévaux. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume +1, No. 4, September, 1850, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 31358-0.txt or 31358-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/5/31358/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/31358-0.zip b/31358-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bfcdda8 --- /dev/null +++ b/31358-0.zip diff --git a/31358-8.txt b/31358-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5405da1 --- /dev/null +++ b/31358-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14421 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, +No. 4, September, 1850, 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: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 4, September, 1850 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 22, 2010 [EBook #31358] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +HARPER'S + +NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. + +No. IV.--SEPTEMBER, 1850.--Vol. I. + + + + +[Illustration: MISS JANE PORTER] + +[From the London Art Journal.] + +MEMORIES OF MISS JANE PORTER. + +BY MRS S. C. HALL. + + +The frequent observation of foreigners is, that in England we have few +"celebrated women." Perhaps they mean that we have few who are +"notorious;" but let us admit that in either case they are right; and +may we not express our belief in its being better for women and for the +community that such is the case: "celebrity" rarely adds to the +happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The +time and attention required to attain "celebrity," must, except under +very peculiar circumstances, interfere with the faithful discharge of +those feminine duties upon which the well-doing of society depends, and +which shed so pure a halo around our English homes. Within these "homes" +our heroes--statesmen--philosophers--men of letters--men of +genius--receive their first impressions, and the _impetus_ to a faithful +discharge of their after callings as Christian subjects of the State. + +There are few of such men who do not trace back their resolution, their +patriotism, their wisdom, their learning--the nourishment of all their +higher aspirations--to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and +faith-inspired mother; one who _believed_ in a son's destiny to be +great; it may be, impelled by such belief rather by instinct than by +reason; who cherished (we can find no better word), the "Hero-feeling" +of devotion to what was right, though it might have been unworldly; and +whose deep heart welled up perpetual love and patience, toward the +over-boiling faults and frequent stumblings of a hot youth, which she +felt would mellow into a fruitful manhood. + +The strength and glory of England are in the keeping of the wives and +mothers of its men; and when we are questioned touching our "celebrated +women," we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over, +moulded, and inspired our "celebrated" men. + +Happy is the country where the laws of God and nature are held in +reverence--where each sex fulfills its peculiar duties, and renders its +sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the +Almighty--for while other nations writhe in anarchy and poverty, our own +spreads wide her arms to receive all who seek protection or need repose. + +But if we have few "celebrated" women, few, who impelled either by +circumstances or the irrepressible restlessness of genius, go forth amid +the pitfalls of publicity, and battle with the world, either as +poets--or dramatists--or moralists--or mere tale-tellers in simple +prose--or, more dangerous still, "hold the mirror up to nature" on the +stage that mimics life--if we have but few, we have, and have had +_some_, of whom we are justly proud; women of such well-balanced minds, +that toil they ever so laboriously in their public and perilous paths, +their domestic and social duties have been fulfilled with as diligent +and faithful love as though the world had never been purified and +enriched by the treasures of their feminine wisdom; yet this does not +shake our belief, that, despite the spotless and well-earned reputations +they enjoyed, the homage they received (and it has its charm), and even +the blessed consciousness of having contributed to the healthful +recreation, the improved morality, the diffusion of the best sort of +knowledge--the _woman_ would have been happier had she continued +enshrined in the privacy of domestic love and domestic duty. She may not +think this at the commencement of her career; and at its termination, if +she has lived sufficiently long to have descended, even gracefully from +her pedestal, she may often recall the homage of the _past_ to make up +for its lack in the _present_. But so perfectly is woman constituted for +the cares, the affections, the duties--the blessed duties of +_un_-public life--that if she give nature way it will whisper to her a +text that "celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman." She +must look for her happiness to HOME. We would have young women ponder +over this, and watch carefully, ere the vail is lifted, and the hard +cruel eye of public criticism fixed upon them. No profession is pastime; +still less so now than ever, when so many people are "clever," though so +few are great. We would pray those especially who direct their thoughts +to literature, to think of what they have to say, and why they wish to +say it; and above all, to weigh what they may expect from a capricious +public, against the blessed shelter and pure harmonies of private +life.[A] + +But we have had some--and still have some--"celebrated" women of whom we +have said "we may be justly proud." We have done pilgrimage to the +shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly "domestic" that the +Corinthian beauty of her character would never have been matter of +history, but for the wickedness of a bad king. We have recorded the +hours spent with Hannah More; the happy days passed with, and the years +invigorated by Maria Edgeworth. We might recall the stern and faithful +puritanism of Maria Jane Jewsbury; and the Old World devotion of the +true and high-souled daughter of Israel--Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones +of Felicia Heman's poetry linger still among all who appreciate the holy +sympathies of religion and virtue. We could dwell long and profitably on +the enduring patience and life-long labor of Barbara Hofland, and steep +a diamond in tears to record the memories of L.E.L. We could--alas, +alas! barely five-and-twenty years' acquaintance with literature and its +ornaments, and the brilliant catalogue is but a _Momento Mori_! Perhaps +of all this list, Maria Edgworth's life was the happiest; simply because +she was the most retired, the least exposed to the gaze and observation +of the world, the most occupied by loving duties toward the most united +circle of old and young we ever saw assembled in one happy home. + +The very young have never, perhaps read one of the tales of a lady whose +reputation, as a novelist, was in its zenith when Walter Scott published +his first novel. We desire to place a chaplet upon the grave of a woman +once "celebrated" all over the known world; yet who drew all her +happiness from the lovingness of home and friends, while her life was as +pure as her renown was extensive. + +In our own childhood romance reading was prohibited, but earnest +entreaty procured an exception in favor of the "Scottish Chiefs." It was +the bright summer, and we read it by moonlight, only disturbed by the +murmur of the distant ocean. We read it, crouched in the deep recess of +the nursery window; we read it until moonlight and morning met, and the +breakfast bell ringing out into the soft air from the old gable, found +us at the end of the fourth volume. Dear old times! when it would have +been deemed little less than sacrilege to crush a respectable romance +into a shilling volume, and our mammas considered _only_ a five volume +story curtailed of its just proportions. + +Sir William Wallace has never lost his heroic ascendency over us, and we +have steadily resisted every temptation to open the "popular edition" of +the long-loved romance, lest what people will call "the improved state +of the human mind," might displace the sweet memory of the mingled +admiration and indignation that chased each other, while we read and +wept, without ever questioning the truth of the absorbing narrative. + +Yet, the "Scottish Chiefs" scarcely achieved the popularity of "Thaddeus +of Warsaw," the first romance originated by the active brain and +singularly constructive power of Jane Porter, produced at an almost +girlish age. + +The hero of "Thaddeus of Warsaw" was really Kosciuszko, the beloved +pupil of George Washington, the grandest and purest patriot the Modern +World has known. The enthusiastic girl was moved to its composition by +the stirring times in which she lived; and a personal observation of, +and acquaintance with some of those brave men whose struggles for +liberty only ceased with their exile, or their existence. + +Miss Porter placed her standard of excellence on high ground, and--all +gentle-spirited as was her nature--it was firm and unflinching toward +what she believed the right and true. We must not, therefore, judge her +by the depressed state of "feeling" in these times, when its +demonstration is looked upon as artificial or affected. Toward the +termination of the last and the commencement of the present century, the +world was roused into an interest and enthusiasm, which now we can +scarcely appreciate or account for; the sympathies of England were +awakened by the terrible revolutions of France, and the desolation of +Poland; as a principle, we hated Napoleon, though he had neither act nor +part in the doings of the democrats; and the sea-songs of Dibdin, which +our youth _now_ would call uncouth and ungraceful rhymes, were key-notes +to public feeling; the English of that time were thoroughly "awake," +the British Lion had not slumbered through a thirty years' peace. We +were a nation of soldiers and sailors, and patriots; not of mingled +cotton-spinners and railway speculators and angry protectionists; we do +not say which state of things is best or worst, we desire merely to +account for what may be called the taste for _heroic_ literature at that +time, and the taste for--we really hardly know what to call +it--literature of the present, made up, as it too generally is, of +shreds and patches--bits of gold and bits of tinsel--things written in a +hurry to be read in a hurry, and never thought of afterward--suggestive +rather than reflective, at the best; and we must plead guilty to a too +great proneness to underrate what our fathers probably overrated. + +At all events we must bear in mind, while reading or thinking over Miss +Porter's novels, that, in her day, even the exaggeration of enthusiasm +was considered good tone and good taste. How this enthusiasm was +_fostered_, not subdued, can be gathered by the author's ingenious +preface to the, we believe, tenth edition of "Thaddeus of Warsaw." + +This story brought her abundant honors, and rendered her society, as +well as the society of her sister and brother, sought for by all who +aimed at a reputation for taste and talent. Mrs. Porter, on her +husband's death (he was the younger son of a well-connected Irish +family, born in Ireland, in or near Coleraine, we believe, and a major +in the Enniskillen dragoons), sought a residence for her family in +Edinburgh, where education and good society are attainable to persons of +moderate fortunes, if they are "well born;" but the extraordinary +artistic skill of her son Robert required a wider field, and she brought +her children to London sooner than she had intended, that his promising +talents might be cultivated. We believe the greater part of "Thaddeus of +Warsaw" was written in London, either in St. Martin's-lane, +Newport-street, or Gerard-street, Soho (for in these three streets the +family lived after their arrival in the metropolis); though as soon as +Robert Ker Porter's abilities floated him on the stream, his mother and +sisters retired, in the brightness of their fame and beauty, to the +village of Thames Ditton, a residence they loved to speak of as their +"home." The actual labor of "Thaddeus"--her first novel--must have been +considerable; for testimony was frequently borne to the fidelity of its +localities, and Poles refused to believe that the author had not visited +Poland; indeed, she had a happy power in describing localities. + +It was on the publication of Miss Porter's two first works in the German +language that their author was honored by being made a Lady of the +Chapter of St. Joachim, and received the gold cross of the order from +Wurtemberg; but "The Scottish Chiefs" was never so popular on the +continent as "Thaddeus of Warsaw," although Napoleon honored it with an +interdict, to prevent its circulation in France. If Jane Porter owed +her Polish inspirations so peculiarly to the tone of the times in which +she lived, she traces back, in her introduction to the latest edition of +"The Scottish Chiefs," her enthusiasm in the cause of Sir William +Wallace to the influence of an old "Scotch wife's" tales and ballads +produced upon her mind while in early childhood. She wandered amid what +she describes as "beautiful green banks," which rose in natural terraces +behind her mother's house, and where a cow and a few sheep occasionally +fed. This house stood alone, at the head of a little square, near the +high school; the distinguished Lord Elchies formerly lived in the house, +which was very ancient, and from those green banks it commanded a fine +view of the Firth of Forth. While gathering "_gowans_" or other wild +flowers for her infant sister (whom she loved more dearly than her life, +during the years they lived in most tender and affectionate +companionship), she frequently encountered this aged woman with her +knitting in her hand; and she would speak to the eager and intelligent +child of the blessed quiet of the land, where the cattle were browsing +without fear of an enemy; and then she would talk of the awful times of +the brave Sir William Wallace, when he fought for Scotland "against a +cruel tyrant; like unto them whom Abraham overcame when he recovered +Lot, with all his herds and flocks, from the proud foray of the robber +kings of the South," who, she never failed to add, "were all rightly +punished for oppressing the stranger in a foreign land! for the Lord +careth for the stranger." Miss Porter says that this woman never omitted +mingling pious allusions with her narrative, "Yet she was a person of +low degree, dressed in a coarse woolen gown, and a plain _Mutch_ cap +clasped under the chin with a silver brooch, which her father had worn +at the battle of Culloden." Of course she filled with tales of Sir +William Wallace and the Bruce, the listening ears of the lovely Saxon +child who treasured them in her heart and brain, until they fructified +in after years into the "Scottish Chiefs." To these two were added "The +Pastor's Fireside," and a number of other tales and romances; she +contributed to several annuals and magazines, and always took pains to +keep up the reputation she had won, achieving a large share of the +popularity, to which, as an author, she never looked for happiness. No +one could be more alive to praise or more grateful for attention, but +the heart of a genuine, pure, loving woman, beat within Jane Porter's +bosom, and she was never drawn _out_ of her domestic circle by the +flattery that has spoiled so many, men as well as women. Her mind was +admirably balanced by her home affections, which remained unsullied and +unshaken to the end of her days. She had, in common with her three +brothers and her charming sister, the advantage of a wise and loving +mother--a woman pious without cant, and worldly-wise without being +worldly. Mrs. Porter was born at Durham, and when very young bestowed +her hand and heart on Major Porter; an old friend of the family assures +us that two or three of their children were born in Ireland, and that +certainly Jane was among the number;[B] although she left Ireland when +in early youth, perhaps almost an infant, she certainly must be +considered "Irish," as her father was so both by birth and descent, and +esteemed during his brief life as a brave and generous gentleman; he +died young, leaving his lovely widow in straightened circumstances, +having only her widow's pension to depend on. The eldest son--afterward +Colonel Porter--was sent to school by his grandfather. + +We have glanced briefly at Sir Robert Ker Porter's wonderful talents, +and Anna Maria, when in her twelfth year, rushed, as Jane acknowledged, +"prematurely into print." Of Anna Maria we knew personally but very +little; enough, however, to recall with a pleasant memory her readiness +in conversation, and her bland and cheerful manners. No two sisters +could have been more different in bearing and appearance: Maria was a +delicate blonde, with a _riant_ face, and an animated manner--we had +said almost _peculiarly Irish_--rushing at conclusions, where her more +thoughtful and careful sister paused to consider and calculate. The +beauty of Jane was statuesque, her deportment serious yet cheerful, a +seriousness quite as natural as her younger sister's gayety; they both +labored diligently, but Anna Maria's labor was sport when compared to +her elder sister's careful toil; Jane's mind was of a more lofty order, +she was intense, and felt more than she said, while Anna Maria often +said more than she felt; they were a delightful contrast, and yet the +harmony between them was complete; and one of the happiest days we ever +spent, while trembling on the threshold of literature, was with them at +their pretty road-side cottage, in the village of Esher, before the +death of their venerable and dearly-beloved mother, whose rectitude and +prudence had both guided and sheltered their youth, and who lived to +reap with them the harvest of their industry and exertion. We remember +the drive there, and the anxiety as to how those very "clever ladies" +would look, and what they would say; we talked over the various letters +we had received from Jane, and thought of the cordial invitation to +their cottage--their "mother's cottage"--as they always called it. We +remember the old white friendly spaniel who looked at us with blinking +eyes, and preceded us up-stairs; we remember the formal, old-fashioned +courtesy of the venerable old lady, who was then nearly eighty--the blue +ribbons and good-natured frankness of Anna Maria, and the noble courtesy +of Jane, who received visitors as if she granted an audience; this +manner was natural to her; it was only the manner of one whose thoughts +have dwelt more on heroic deeds, and lived more with heroes than with +actual living men and women; the effect of this, however, soon passed +away, but not so the fascination which was in all she said and did. Her +voice was soft and musical, and her conversation addressed to one person +rather than to the company at large, while Maria talked rapidly to every +one, or _for_ every one who chose to listen. How happily the hours +passed! we were shown some of those extraordinary drawings of Sir +Robert, who gained an artist's reputation before he was twenty, and +attracted the attention of West and Shee[C] in his mere boyhood. We +heard all the interesting particulars of his panoramic picture of the +Storming of Seringapatam, which, the first of its class, was known half +over the world. We must not, however, be misunderstood--there was +neither personal nor family egotism in the Porters; they invariably +spoke of each other with the tenderest affection--but unless the +conversation was _forced_ by their friends, they never mentioned their +own, or each other's works, while they were most ready to praise what +was excellent in the works of others; they spoke with pleasure of their +sojourns in London; while their mother said, it was much wiser and +better for young ladies who were not rich, to live quietly in the +country, and escape the temptations of luxury and display. At that time +the "young ladies" seemed to us certainly _not_ young; that was about +two-and-twenty years ago, and Jane Porter was seventy-five when she +died. They talked much of their previous dwelling at Thames Ditton, of +the pleasant neighborhood they enjoyed there, though their mother's +health and their own had much improved since their residence on +Esher-hill; their little garden was bounded at the back by the beautiful +park of Claremont, and the front of the house overlooked the leading +roads, broken as they are by the village green, and some noble elms. The +view is crowned by the high trees of Esher-place, opening from the +village on that side of the brow of the hill. Jane pointed out the +_locale_ of the proud Cardinal Wolsey's domain, inhabited during the +days of his power over Henry VIII., and in their cloudy evening, when +that capricious monarch's favor changed to bitterest hate. It was the +very spot to foster her high romance, while she could at the same time +enjoy the sweets of that domestic converse she loved best of all. We +were prevented by the occupations and heart-beatings of our own literary +labors from repeating this visit; and in 1831, four years after these +well-remembered hours, the venerable mother of a family so distinguished +in literature and art, rendering their names known and honored wherever +art and letters flourish, was called HOME. The sisters, who had resided +ten years at Esher, left it, intending to sojourn for a time with their +second brother, Doctor Porter, (who commenced his career as a surgeon in +the navy) in Bristol; but within a year the youngest, the +light-spirited, bright-hearted Anna Maria died: her sister was +dreadfully shaken by her loss, and the letters we received from her +after this bereavement, though containing the outpourings of a sorrowing +spirit, were full of the certainty of that reunion hereafter which +became the hope of her life. She soon resigned her cottage home at +Esher, and found the affectionate welcome she so well deserved in many +homes, where friends vied with each other to fill the void in her +sensitive heart. She was of too wise a nature, and too sympathizing a +habit, to shut out new interests and affections, but her _old ones_ +never withered, nor were they ever replaced; were the love of such a +sister-friend--the watchful tenderness and uncompromising love of a +mother--ever "replaced," to a lonely sister or a bereaved daughter! Miss +Porter's pen had been laid aside for some time, when suddenly she came +before the world as the editor of "Sir Edward Seward's Narrative," and +set people hunting over old atlases to find out the island where he +resided. The whole was a clever fiction; yet Miss Porter never confided +its authorship, we believe, beyond her family circle; perhaps the +correspondence and documents, which are in the hands of one of her +kindest friends (her executor), Mr. Shepherd, may throw some light upon +a subject which the "Quarterly" honored by an article. We think the +editor certainly used her pen, as well as her judgment, in the work, and +we have imagined that it might have been written by the family circle, +more in sport than in earnest, and then produced to serve a double +purpose. + +After her sister's death Miss Jane Porter was afflicted with so severe +an illness, that we, in common with her other friends, thought it +impossible she could carry out her plan of journeying to St. Petersburgh +to visit her brother, Sir Robert Ker Porter, who had been long united to +a Russian princess, and was then a widower; her strength was fearfully +reduced; her once round figure become almost spectral, and little beyond +the placid and dignified expression of her noble countenance remained to +tell of her former beauty; but her resolve was taken; she wished, she +said, to see once more her youngest and most beloved brother, so +distinguished in several careers, almost deemed incompatible--as a +painter, an author, a soldier, and a diplomatist, and nothing could turn +her from her purpose: she reached St. Petersburgh in safety, and with +apparently improved health, found her brother as much courted and +beloved there as in his own land, and his daughter married to a Russian +of high distinction. Sir Robert longed to return to England. He did not +complain of any illness, and every thing was arranged for their +departure; his final visits were paid, all but one to the Emperor, who +had ever treated him as a friend; the day before his intended journey he +went to the palace, was graciously received, and then drove home, but +when the servant opened the carriage-door at his own residence he was +dead! One sorrow after another pressed heavily upon her, yet she was +still the same sweet, gentle, holy-minded woman she had ever been, +bending with Christian faith to the will of the Almighty--"biding her +time." + +[Illustration: JANE PORTER'S COTTAGE AT ESHER.] + +How differently would she have "watched and waited" had she been tainted +by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of "literary +reputation." While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the success +of those who scramble up--where she bore the standard to the heights--of +Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing some literary +"Tyro" to those who could aid or advise a future career. We can speak +from experience of the warm interest she took in the Hospital for the +cure of Consumption, and the Governesses' Benevolent Institution; during +the progress of the latter, her health was painfully feeble, yet she +used personal influence for its success, and worked with her own hands +for its bazaars. She was ever aiding those who could not aid themselves; +and all her thoughts, words, and deeds, were evidence of her clear, +powerful mind, and kindly loving heart; her appearance in the London +_coteries_ was always hailed with interest and pleasure; to the young +she was especially affectionate; but it was in the quiet mornings, or in +the long twilight evenings of summer, when visiting her cherished +friends at Shirley Park, in Kensington-square, or wherever she might be +located for the time--it was then that her former spirit revived and she +poured forth anecdote and illustration, and the store of many years' +observation, filtered by experience and purified by that delightful +faith to which she held--that "all things work together for good to them +that love the Lord." She held this in practice, even more than in +theory: you saw her chastened yet hopeful spirit beaming forth from her +gentle eyes, and her sweet smile can never be forgotten. The last time +we saw her, was about two years ago--in Bristol--at her brother, Dr. +Porter's house in Portland-square: then she could hardly stand without +assistance, yet she never complained of her own suffering or +feebleness--all her anxiety was about the brother--then dangerously ill, +and now the last of "his race." Major Porter, it will be remembered, +left five children, and these have left only one descendant--the +daughter of Sir Robert Ker Porter and the Russian Princess whom he +married, a young Russian lady, whose present name we do not even know. + +We did not think at our last leave-taking that Miss Porter's fragile +frame could have so long withstood the Power that takes away all we hold +most dear; but her spirit was at length summoned, after a few days' +total insensibility, on the 24th of May. + +We were haunted by the idea that the pretty cottage at Esher, where we +spent those happy hours, had been treated even as "Mrs. Porter's +Arcadia" at Thames Ditton--now altogether removed; and it was with a +melancholy pleasure we found it the other morning in nothing changed; it +was almost impossible to believe that so many years had passed since our +last visit. While Mr. Fairholt was sketching the cottage, we knocked at +the door, and were kindly permitted by two gentle sisters, who now +inhabit it, to enter the little drawing-room and walk round the garden; +except that the drawing-room has been re-papered and painted, and that +there were no drawings and no flowers, the room was not in the least +altered; yet to us it seemed like a sepulchre, and we rejoiced to +breathe the sweet air of the little garden, and listen to a nightingale, +whose melancholy cadence harmonized with our feelings. + +"Whenever you are at Esher," said the devoted daughter, the last time we +conversed with her, "do visit my mother's tomb." We did so. A cypress +flourishes at the head of the grave; and the following touching +inscription is carved on the stone: + + HERE SLEEPS IN JESUS A CHRISTIAN WIDOW + + JANE PORTER + OBIIT JUNE 18TH, 1831, TAT. 86; + + THE BELOVED MOTHER OF + W. PORTER, M.D., OF SIR ROBERT KER PORTER, + AND OF JANE AND ANNA MARIA PORTER, + WHO MOURN IN HOPE, HUMBLY TRUSTING TO BE BORN + AGAIN WITH HER UNTO THE BLESSED KINGDOM + OF THEIR LORD AND SAVIOUR. + RESPECT HER GRAVE, FOR SHE MINISTERED TO THE POOR + +[Illustration] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] In support of this opinion, which we know is opposed to the popular +feeling of many in the present day, we venture to quote what Miss Porter +herself repeats, as said to her by Madame de Stael: "She frequently +praised my revered mother for the retired manner in which she maintained +her little domestic establishment, _yielding her daughters to society, +but not to the world_." We pray those we love, to mark the delicate and +most true distinction, between "society" and the "world." "I was set on +a stage," continued De Stael, "I was set on a stage, at a child's age, +to be listened to as a wit and worshiped for my premature judgment. I +drank adulation as my soul's nourishment, _and I cannot now live without +its poison; it has been my bane_, never an aliment. My heart ever sighed +for happiness, and I ever lost it, when I thought it approaching my +grasp. I was admired, made an idol, _but never beloved_. I do not accuse +my parents for having made this mistake, but I have not repeated it in +my Albertine" (her daughter.) "She shall not + + 'Seek for love, and fill her arms with bays.' + +I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade." + +[B] Miss Porter never told me she was an Irishwoman, but once she +questioned me concerning my own parentage and place of birth; and upon +my explaining that my mother was an English woman, my father Irish, and +that I was born in Ireland, which I quitted early in life, she observed +_her own circumstances were very similar to mine_. For my own part, I +have no doubt that she was Irish by birth and by descent on the father's +side, but it will be no difficult matter to obtain direct evidence of +the facts; and we hope that some Irish patriotic friend will make due +inquiries on the subject. During her life, I had no idea of her +connection with Ireland, or I should certainly have ascertained if my +own country had a claim of which it may be justly proud. + +[C] In his early days the President of the Royal Academy painted a very +striking portrait of Jane Porter, as "Miranda," and Harlowe painted her +in the canoness dress of the order of St. Joachim. + + + + +[From the Gallery of Nature.] + +SHOOTING STARS AND METEORIC SHOWERS. + + +[Illustration] + +From every region of the globe and in all ages of time within the range +of history, exhibitions of apparent instability in the heavens have been +observed, when the curtains of the evening have been drawn. Suddenly, a +line of light arrests the eye, darting like an arrow through a varying +extent of space, and in a moment the firmament is as sombre as before. +The appearance is exactly that of a star falling from its sphere, and +hence the popular title of shooting star applied to it. The apparent +magnitudes of these meteorites are widely different, and also their +brilliancy. Occasionally, they are far more resplendent than the +brightest of the planets, and throw a very perceptible illumination upon +the path of the observer. A second or two commonly suffices for the +individual display, but in some instances it has lasted several minutes. +In every climate it is witnessed, and at all times of the year, but most +frequently in the autumnal months. As far back as records go, we meet +with allusions to these swift and evanescent luminous travelers. +Minerva's hasty flight from the peaks of Olympus to break the truce +between the Greeks and Trojans, is compared by Homer to the emission of +a brilliant star. Virgil, in the first book of the Georgics, mentions +the shooting stars as prognosticating weather changes: + + "And on, before tempestuous winds arise, + The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies, + And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night + With sweeping glories and long trains of light." + +Various hypotheses have been framed to explain the nature and origin of +these remarkable appearances. When electricity began to be understood, +this was thought to afford a satisfactory explanation, and the shooting +stars were regarded by Beccaria and Vassali as merely electrical sparks. +When the inflammable nature of the gases became known, Lavosier and +Volta supposed an accumulation of hydrogen in the higher regions of the +atmosphere, because of its inferior density, giving rise by ignition to +the meteoric exhibitions. While these theories of the older philosophers +have been shown to be untenable, there is still great obscurity resting +upon the question, though we have reason to refer the phenomena to a +cause exterior to the bounds of our atmosphere. Upon this ground, the +subject assumes a strictly astronomical aspect, and claims a place in a +treatise on the economy of the solar system. + +The first attempt accurately to investigate these elegant meteors was +made by two university students, afterward Professors Brandes of +Leipsic, and Benzenberg of Dusseldorf, in the year 1798. They selected a +base line of 46,200 feet, somewhat less than nine English miles, and +placed themselves at its extremities on appointed nights, for the +purpose of ascertaining their average altitude and velocity. Out of +twenty-two appearances identified as the same, they found, + + 7 under 45 miles + 9 between 45 and 90 miles + 5 above 90 miles + 1 above 140 miles. + +The greatest observed velocity gave twenty-five miles in a second. A +more extensive plan was organized by Brandes in the year 1823, and +carried into effect in the neighborhood of Breslaw. Out of ninety-eight +appearances, the computed heights were, + + 4 under 15 miles + 15 from 15 to 30 miles + 22 from 30 to 45 miles + 33 from 45 to 70 miles + 13 from 70 to 90 miles + 6 above 90 miles + 5 from 140 to 460 miles. + +The velocities were between eighteen and thirty-six miles in a second, +an average velocity far greater than that of the earth in its orbit. + +The rush of luminous bodies through the sky of a more extraordinary +kind, though a rare occurrence, has repeatedly been observed. They are +usually discriminated from shooting stars, and known by the vulgar as +fire-balls; but probably both proceed from the same cause, and are +identical phenomena. They have sometimes been seen of large volume, +giving an intense light, a hissing noise accompanying their progress, +and a loud explosion attending their termination. In the year 1676, a +meteor passed over Italy about two hours after sunset, upon which +Montanari wrote a treatise. It came over the Adriatic Sea as if from +Dalmatia, crossed the country in the direction of Rimini and Leghorn, a +loud report being heard at the latter place, and disappeared upon the +sea toward Corsica. A similar visitor was witnessed all over England, in +1718, and forms the subject of one of Halley's papers to the Royal +Society. Sir Hans Sloane was one of its spectators. Being abroad at the +time of its appearance, at a quarter past eight at night, in the streets +of London, his path was suddenly and intensely illuminated. This, he +apprehended at first, might arise from a discharge of rockets; but found +a fiery object in the heavens, moving after the manner of a falling +star, in a direct line from the Pleiades to below the girdle of Orion. +Its brightness was so vivid, that several times he was obliged to turn +away his eyes from it. The stars disappeared, and the moon, then nine +days old, and high near the meridian, the sky being very clear, was so +effaced by the lustre of the meteor as to be scarcely seen. It was +computed to have passed over three hundred geographical miles in a +minute, at the distance of sixty miles above the surface, and was +observed at different extremities of the kingdom. The sound of an +explosion was heard through Devon and Cornwall, and along the opposite +coast of Bretagne. Halley conjectured this and similar displays to +proceed from combustible vapors aggregated on the outskirts of the +atmosphere, and suddenly set on fire by some unknown cause. But since +his time, the fact has been established, of the actual fall of heavy +bodies to the earth from surrounding space, which requires another +hypothesis. To these bodies the term arolites is applied, signifying +atmospheric stones, from [Greek: ar], the atmosphere, and [Greek: lithos], a stone. While +many meteoric appearances may simply arise from electricity, or from the +inflammable gases, it is now certain, from the proved descent of +arolites, that such bodies are of extra-terrestrial origin. + +Antiquity refers us to several objects as having descended from the +skies, the gifts of the immortal gods. Such was the Palladium of Troy, +the image of the goddess of Ephesus, and the sacred shield of Numa. The +folly of the ancients in believing such narrations has often been the +subject of remark; but, however fabulous the particular cases referred +to, the moderns have been compelled to renounce their skepticism +respecting the fact itself, of the actual transition of substances from +celestial space to terrestrial regions; and no doubt the ancient faith +upon this subject was founded on observed events. The following table, +taken from the work of M. Izarn, _Des Pierres tombes du Ciel_, exhibits +a collection of instances of the fall of arolites, together with the +eras of their descent, and the persons on whose evidence the facts rest; +but the list might be largely extended. + + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Substance. |Place. |Period. |Authority. | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Under Tullus |Livy. | + | | | Hostilius | | + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Consuls C. Martius |J. Obsequens. | + | | | and M. Torquatus | | + |Shower of iron |In Lucania |Year before the |Pliny. | + | | | defeat of Crassus | | + |Shower of mercury |In Italy | |Dion. | + |Large stone |Near the river |Second year of the |Pliny. | + | | Negos, Thrace | 78th Olympiad | | + |Three large stones |In Thrace |Year before J. C. |Ch. of Count | + | | | 452 | Marcellin. | + |Shower of fire |At Quesnoy |January 4, 1717 |Geoffroy le | + | | | | Cadet. | + |Stone of 72lbs. |Near Larissa, |January 1706 |Paul Lucas. | + | | Macedonia | | | + |About 1200 stones } | | | | + | --one of 120lbs.} |Near Padua in |In 1510 |Carden, Varcit. | + |Another of 60lbs. } | Italy | | | + |Another of 59lbs. |On Mount Vasier, |November 27, 1627 |Gassendi. | + | | Provence | | | + |Shower of sand for |In the Atlantic |April 6, 1719 |Pre la Fuille. | + | 15 hours | | | | + |Shower of sulphur |Sodom and Gomorra | |Moses. | + |Sulphurous rain |In the Duchy of |In 1658 |Spangenburgh. | + | | Mansfield | | | + |The same |Copenhagen |In 1646 |Olaus Wormius. | + |Shower of sulphur |Brunswick |October 1721 |Siegesbr. | + |Shower of unknown |Ireland |In 1695 |Muschenbroeck. | + | matter | | | | + |Two large stones, |Liponas, in |September 1753 |Lalande. | + | weighing 20lbs. | Bresse | | | + |A stony mass |Niort, Normandy |In 1750 |Lalande. | + |A stone of |At Luce, in Le |September 13, 1768 |Bachelay. | + | 7-1/2lbs. | Maine | | | + |A stone |At Aire, in |In 1768 |Gursonde de | + | | Artois | | Boyaval. | + |A stone |In Le Cotentin |In 1768 |Morand. | + |Extensive shower |Environs of Agen |July 24, 1790 |St. Amand, | + | of stones | | | Baudin, &c. | + |About twelve stones |Sienna, Tuscany |July 1794 |Earl of Bristol. | + |A large stone of |Wold Cottage, |December 13, 1795 |Captain Topham. | + | 56lbs. | Yorkshire | | | + |A stone of about |Sale, Department |March 17, 1798 |Lelievre and De | + | 20lbs. | of the Rhone | | Dre. | + |A stone of 10lbs. |In Portugal |February 19, 1796 |Southey. | + |Shower of stones |Benares, East |December 19, 1798 |J. Lloyd | + | | Indies | | Williams, Esq. | + |Shower of stones |At Plaun, near |July 3, 1753 |B. de Born. | + | | Tabor, Bohemia | | | + |Mass of iron, |America |April 5, 1800 |Philosophical | + | 70 cubic feet | | | Mag. | + |Mass of iron, |Abakauk, Siberia |Very old |Pallas, Chladni, | + | 14 quintals | | | &c. | + |Shower of stones |Barboutan, near |July 1789 |Darcet Jun., | + | | Roquefort | | Lomet, &c. | + |Large stone of |Ensisheim, Upper |November 7, 1492 |Butenschoen. | + | 260lbs. | Rhine | | | + |Two stones, 200 |Near Verona |In 1762 |Acad. de Bourd. | + | and 300lbs. | | | | + |A stone of 20lbs. |Sules, near Ville |March 12, 1798 |De Dre. | + | | Franche | | | + |Several stones from |Near L'Aigle, |April 26, 1803 |Fourcroy. | + | 10 to 17lbs. | Normandy | | | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + +Some of the instances in the table are of sufficient interest to deserve +a notice. + +A singular relation respecting the stone of Ensisheim on the Rhine, at +which philosophy once smiled incredulously, regarding it as one of the +romances of the middle ages, may now be admitted to sober attention as a +piece of authentic history. A homely narrative of its fall was drawn up +at the time by order of the Emperor Maximilian, and deposited with the +stone in the church. It may thus be rendered: "In the year of the Lord +1492, on Wednesday, which was Martinmas eve, the 7th of November, a +singular miracle occurred; for, between eleven o'clock and noon, there +was a loud clap of thunder, and a prolonged confused noise, which was +heard at a great distance; and a stone fell from the air, in the +jurisdiction of Ensisheim, which weighed two hundred and sixty pounds, +and the confused noise was, besides, much louder than here. Then a child +saw it strike on a field in the upper jurisdiction, toward the Rhine and +Inn, near the district of Giscano, which was sown with wheat, and it did +it no harm, except that it made a hole there: and then they conveyed it +from that spot; and many pieces were broken from it; which the landvogt +forbade. They, therefore, caused it to be placed in the church, with the +intention of suspending it as a miracle: and there came here many people +to see this stone. So there were remarkable conversations about this +stone: but the learned said that they knew not what it was; for it was +beyond the ordinary course of nature that such a large stone should +smite the earth from the height of the air; but that it was really a +miracle of God; for, before that time, never any thing was heard like +it, nor seen, nor described. When they found that stone, it had entered +into the earth to the depth of a man's stature, which every body +explained to be the will of God that it should be found; and the noise +of it was heard at Lucerne, at Vitting, and in many other places, so +loud that it was believed that houses had been overturned: and as the +King Maximilian was here the Monday after St. Catharine's day of the +same year, his royal excellency ordered the stone which had fallen to be +brought to the castle, and, after having conversed a long time about it +with the noblemen, he said that the people of Ensisheim should take it, +and order it to be hung up in the church, and not to allow any body to +take any thing from it. His excellency, however, took two pieces of it; +of which he kept one, and sent the other to the Duke Sigismund of +Austria: and they spoke a great deal about this stone, which they +suspended in the choir, where it still is; and a great many people came +to see it." Contemporary writers confirm the substance of this +narration, and the evidence of the fact exists; the arolite is +precisely identical in its chemical composition with that of other +meteoric stones. It remained for three centuries suspended in the +church, was carried off to Colmar during the French revolution; but has +since been restored to its former site, and Ensisheim rejoices in the +possession of the relic. A piece broken from it is in the Museum of the +_Jardin des Plantes_ at Paris. + +The celebrated Gassendi was an eye-witness of a similar event. In the +year 1627, on the 27th of November, the sky being quite clear, he saw a +burning stone fall in the neighborhood of Nice, and examined the mass. +While in the air it appeared to be about four feet in diameter, was +surrounded by a luminous circle of colors like a rainbow, and its fall +was accompanied by a noise like the discharge of artillery. Upon +inspecting the substance, he found it weighed 59 lbs., was extremely +hard, of a dull, metallic color, and of a specific gravity considerably +greater than that of common marble. Having only this solitary instance +of such an occurrence, Gassendi concluded that the mass came from some +of the mountains of Provence, which had been in a transient state of +volcanic activity. Instances of the same phenomenon occurred in the +years 1672, 1756, and 1768; but the facts were generally doubted by +naturalists, and considered as electrical appearances, magnified by +popular ignorance and timidity. A remarkable example took place in +France in the year 1790. Between nine and ten o'clock at night, on the +24th of July, a luminous ball was seen traversing the atmosphere with +great rapidity, and leaving behind it a train of light; a loud explosion +was then heard, accompanied with sparks which flew off in all +directions; this was followed by a shower of stones over a considerable +extent of ground, at various distances from each other, and of different +sizes. A _procs verbal_ was drawn up, attesting the circumstance, +signed by the magistrates of the municipality, and by several hundreds +of persons inhabiting the district. This curious document is literally +as follows: "In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety, and the +thirtieth day of the month of August, we, the Lieut. Jean Duby, mayor, +and Louis Massillon, procurator of the commune of the municipality of La +Grange-de-Juillac, and Jean Darmite, resident in the parish of La +Grange-de-Juillac, certify in truth and verity, that on Saturday, the +24th of July last, between nine and ten o'clock, there passed a great +fire, and after it we heard in the air a very loud and extraordinary +noise; and about two minutes after there fell stones from heaven; but +fortunately there fell only a very few, and they fell about ten paces +from one another in some places, and in others nearer, and, finally, in +some other places farther; and falling, most of them, of the weight of +about half a quarter of a pound each, some others of about half a pound, +like that found in our parish of La Grange; and on the borders of the +parish of Creon, they were found of a pound weight; and in falling, they +seemed not to be inflamed, but very hard and black without, and within +of the color of steel: and, thank God, they occasioned no harm to the +people, nor to the trees, but only to some tiles which were broken on +the houses; and most of them fell gently, and others fell quickly, with +a hissing noise; and some were found which had entered into the earth, +but very few. In witness thereof, we have written and signed these +presents. Duby, mayor. Darmite." Though such a document as this, coming +from the unlearned of the district where the phenomenon occurred, was +not calculated to win acceptance with the _savans_ of the French +capital, yet it was corroborated by a host of intelligent witnesses at +Bayonne, Thoulouse, and Bordeaux, and by transmitted specimens +containing the substances usually found in atmospheric stones, and in +nearly the same proportions. A few years afterward, an undoubted +instance of the fall of an arolite occurred in England, which largely +excited public curiosity. This was in the neighborhood of Wold Cottage, +the house of Captain Topham, in Yorkshire. Several persons heard the +report of an explosion in the air, followed by a hissing sound; and +afterward felt a shock, as if a heavy body had fallen to the ground at a +little distance from them. One of these, a plowman, saw a huge stone +falling toward the earth, eight or nine yards from the place where he +stood. It threw up the mould on every side, and after penetrating +through the soil, lodged some inches deep in solid chalk rock. Upon +being raised, the stone was found to weigh fifty-six pounds. It fell in +the afternoon of a mild but hazy day, during which there was no thunder +or lightning; and the noise of the explosion was heard through a +considerable district. It deserves remark, that in most recorded cases +of the descent of projectiles, the weather has been settled, and the sky +clear; a fact which plainly places them apart from the causes which +operate to produce the tempest, and shows the popular term thunder-bolt +to be an entire misnomer. + +While this train of circumstances was preparing the philosophic mind of +Europe to admit as a truth what had hitherto been deemed a vulgar error, +and acknowledge the appearance of masses of ignited matter in the +atmosphere occasionally descending to the earth, an account of a +phenomenon of this kind was received from India, vouched by an authority +calculated to secure it general respect. It came from Mr. Williams, +F.R.S., a resident in Bengal. It stated that on December 19th, 1798, at +eight o'clock in the evening, a large, luminous meteor was seen at +Benares and other parts of the country. It was attended with a loud, +rumbling noise, like an ill-discharged platoon of musketry; and about +the same time, the inhabitants of Krakhut, fourteen miles from Benares, +saw the light, heard an explosion, and immediately after the noise of +heavy bodies falling in the neighborhood. The sky had previously been +serene, and not the smallest vestige of a cloud had appeared for many +days. Next morning, the mould in the fields was found to have been +turned up in many spots; and unusual stones, of various sizes, but of +the same substance, were picked out from the moist soil, generally from +a depth of six inches. As the occurrence took place in the night, after +the people had retired to rest, the explosion and the actual fall of the +stones were not observed; but the watchman of an English gentleman, near +Krakhut, brought him a stone the next morning, which had fallen through +the top of his hut, and buried itself in the earthen floor. This event +in India was followed, in the year 1803, by a convincing demonstration +in France, which compelled the eminent men of the capital to believe, +though much against their will. On Tuesday, April 26th, about one in the +afternoon, the weather being serene, there was observed in a part of +Normandy, including Caen, Falaise, Alenon, and a large number of +villages, a fiery globe of great brilliancy moving in the atmosphere +with great rapidity. Some moments after, there was heard in L'Aigle and +in the environs, to the extent of more than thirty leagues in every +direction, a violent explosion, which lasted five or six minutes. At +first there were three or four reports, like those of a cannon, followed +by a kind of discharge which resembled the firing of musketry; after +which there was heard a rumbling like the beating of a drum. The air was +calm, and the sky serene, except a few clouds, such as are frequently +observed. The noise proceeded from a small cloud which had a rectangular +form, and appeared motionless all the time that the phenomenon lasted. +The vapor of which it was composed was projected in all directions at +the successive explosions. The cloud seemed about half a league to the +northeast of the town of L'Aigle, and must have been at a great +elevation in the atmosphere, for the inhabitants of two hamlets, a +league distant from each other, saw it at the same time above their +heads. In the whole canton over which it hovered, a hissing noise like +that of a stone discharged from a sling was heard, and a multitude of +mineral masses were seen to fall to the ground. The largest that fell +weighed 17-1/2 pounds; and the gross number amounted to nearly three +thousand. By the direction of the Academy of Sciences, all the +circumstances of this event were minutely examined by a commission of +inquiry, with the celebrated M. Biot at its head. They were found in +harmony with the preceding relation, and reported to the French minister +of the interior. Upon analyzing the stones, they were found identical +with those of Benares. + +The following are the principal facts with reference to the arolites, +upon which general dependence may be placed. Immediately after their +descent they are always intensely hot. They are covered with a fused +black incrustation, consisting chiefly of oxide of iron; and, what is +most remarkable, their chemical analysis develops the same substances in +nearly the same proportions, though one may have reached the earth in +India and another in England. Their specific gravities are about the +same; considering 1000 as the proportionate number for the specific +gravity of water, that of some of the arolites has been found to be, + + Ensisheim stone 3233 + Benares 3352 + Sienna 3418 + Gassendi's 3456 + Yorkshire 3508 + Bachelay's 3535 + Bohemia 4281. + +The greater specific gravity of the Bohemian stone arose from its +containing a greater proportion of iron. An analysis of one of the +stones that fell at L'Aigle gives: + + Silica 46 per cent + Magnesia 10 " + Iron 45 " + Nickel 2 " + Sulphur 5 " + Zinc 1 " + +Iron is found in all these bodies, and in a considerable quantity, with +the rare metal nickel. It is a singular fact, that though a chemical +examination of their composition has not discovered any substance with +which we were not previously acquainted, yet no other bodies have yet +been found, native to the earth, which contain the same ingredients +combined. Neither products of the volcanoes, whether extinct or in +action, nor the stratified or unstratified rocks, have exhibited a +sample of that combination of metallic and earthy substances which the +meteoric stones present. During the era that science has admitted their +path to the earth as a physical truth, scarcely amounting to half a +century, few years have elapsed without a known instance of descent +occurring in some region of the globe. To Izarn's list, previously +given, upward of seventy cases might be added, which have transpired +during the last forty years. A report relating to one of the most +recent, which fell in a valley near the Cape of Good Hope, with the +affidavits of the witnesses, was communicated to the Royal Society, by +Sir John Herschel, in March, 1840. Previously to the descent of the +arolites, the usual sound of explosion was heard, and some of the +fragments falling upon grass, caused it instantly to smoke, and were too +hot to admit of being touched. When, however, we consider the wide range +of the ocean, and the vast unoccupied regions of the globe, its +mountains, deserts, and forests, we can hardly fail to admit that the +observed cases of descent must form but a small proportion of the actual +number; and obviously in countries upon which the human race are thickly +planted many may escape notice through descending in the night, and will +lie imbedded in the soil till some accidental circumstance exposes their +existence. Some, too, are no doubt completely fused and dissipated in +the atmosphere, while others move by us horizontally, as brilliant +lights, and pass into the depths of space. The volume of some of these +passing bodies is very great. One which traveled within twenty-five +miles of the surface, and cast down a fragment, was suppose to weigh +upward of half a million of tons. But for its great velocity, the whole +mass would have been precipitated to the earth. Two arolites fell at +Braunau, in Bohemia, July 14, 1847. + +In addition to arolites, properly so called, or bodies known to have +come to us from outlying space, large metallic masses exist in various +parts of the world, lying in insulated situations, far remote from the +abodes of civilization, whose chemical composition is closely analogous +to that of the substances the descent of which has been witnessed. These +circumstances leave no doubt as to their common origin. Pallas +discovered an immense mass of malleable iron, mixed with nickel, at a +considerable elevation on a mountain of slate in Siberia, a site plainly +irreconcilable with the supposition of art having been there with its +forges, even had it possessed the character of the common iron. In one +of the rooms of the British Museum there is a specimen of a large mass +which was found, and still remains, on the plain of Otumba, in the +district of Buenos Ayres. The specimen alone weighs 1400 lbs., and the +weight of the whole mass, which lies half buried in the ground, is +computed to be thirteen tons. In the province of Bahia, in Brazil, +another block has been discovered weighing upward of six tons. +Considering the situation of these masses, with the details of their +chemical analysis, the presumption is clearly warranted that they owe +their origin to the same causes that have formed and projected the +arolites to the surface. With reference to the Siberian iron a general +tradition prevails among the Tartars that it formerly descended from the +heavens. A curious extract, translated from the Emperor Tchangire's +memoirs of his own reign is given in a paper communicated to the Royal +Society, which speaks of the fall of a metallic mass in India. The +prince relates, that in the year 1620 (of our era) a violent explosion +was heard at a village in the Punjaub, and at the same time a luminous +body fell through the air on the earth. The officer of the district +immediately repaired to the spot where it was said the body fell, and +having found the place to be still hot, he caused it to be dug. He found +that the heat kept increasing till they reached a lump of iron violently +hot. This was afterward sent to court, where the emperor had it weighed +in his presence, and ordered it to be forged into a sabre, a knife, and +a dagger. After a trial the workmen reported that it was not malleable, +but shivered under the hammer; and it required to be mixed with one +third part of common iron, after which the mass was found to make +excellent blades. The royal historian adds, that on the incident of this +_iron of lightning_ being manufactured, a poet presented him with a +distich that, "during his reign the earth attained order and regularity; +that raw iron fell from lightning, which was, by his world-subduing +authority, converted into a dagger, a knife, and two sabres." + +A multitude of theories have been devised to account for the origin of +these remarkable bodies. The idea is completely inadmissible that they +are concretions formed within the limits of the atmosphere. The +ingredients that enter into their composition have never been discovered +in it, and the air has been analyzed at the sea level and on the tops of +high mountains. Even supposing that to have been the case, the enormous +volume of atmospheric air so charged required to furnish the particles +of a mass of several tons, not to say many masses, is, alone, sufficient +to refute the notion. They can not, either, be projectiles from +terrestrial volcanoes, because coincident volcanic activity has not been +observed, and arolites descend thousands of miles apart from the +nearest volcano, and their substances are discordant with any known +volcanic product. Laplace suggested their projection from lunar +volcanoes. It has been calculated that a projectile leaving the lunar +surface, where there is no atmospheric resistance, with a velocity of +7771 feet in the first second, would be carried beyond the point where +the forces of the earth and the moon are equal, would be detached, +therefore, from the satellite, and come so far within the sphere of the +earth's attraction as necessarily to fall to it. But the enormous number +of ignited bodies that have been visible, the shooting stars of all +ages, and the periodical meteoric showers that have astonished the +moderns, render this hypothesis untenable, for the moon, ere this, would +have undergone such a waste as must have sensibly diminished her orb, +and almost blotted her from the heavens. Olbers, was the first to prove +the possibility of a projectile reaching us from the moon, but at the +same he deemed the event highly improbable, regarding the satellite as a +very peaceable neighbor, not capable now of strong explosions from the +want of water and an atmosphere. The theory of Chladni will account +generally for all the phenomena, be attended with the fewest +difficulties, and, with some modifications to meet circumstances not +known in his day, it is now widely embraced. He conceived the system to +include an immense number of small bodies, either the scattered +fragments of a larger mass, or original accumulations of matter, which, +circulating round the sun, encounter the earth in its orbit, and are +drawn toward it by attraction, become ignited upon entering the +atmosphere, in consequence of their velocity, and constitute the +shooting stars, arolites, and meteoric appearances that are observed. +Sir Humphry Davy, in a paper which contains his researches on flame, +strongly expresses an opinion that the meteorites are solid bodies +moving in space, and that the heat produced by the compression of the +most rarefied air from the velocity of their motion must be sufficient +to ignite their mass so that they are fused on entering the atmosphere. +It is estimated that a body moving through our atmosphere with the +velocity of one mile in a second, would extricate heat equal to 30,000 +of Fahrenheit--a heat more intense than that of the fiercest artificial +furnace that ever glowed. The chief modification given to the Chladnian +theory has arisen from the observed periodical occurrence of meteoric +showers--a brilliant and astonishing exhibition--to some notices of +which we proceed. + +The writers of the middle ages report the occurrence of the stars +falling from heaven in resplendent showers among the physical +appearances of their time. The experience of modern days establishes the +substantial truth of such relations, however once rejected as the +inventions of men delighting in the marvelous. Conde, in his history of +the dominion of the Arabs, states, referring to the month of October in +the year 902 of our era, that on the night of the death of King Ibrahim +ben Ahmed, an infinite number of falling stars were seen to spread +themselves like rain over the heavens from right to left, and this year +was afterward called the year of stars. In some Eastern annals of Cairo, +it is related that "In this year (1029 of our era) in the month Redjeb +(August) many stars passed, with a great noise, and brilliant light;" +and in another place the same document states: "In the year 599, on +Saturday night, in the last Moharrem (1202 of our era, and on the 19th +of October), the stars appeared like waves upon the sky, toward the east +and west; they flew about like grasshoppers, and were dispersed from +left to right; this lasted till day-break; the people were alarmed." The +researches of the Orientalist, M. Von Hammer, have brought these +singular accounts to light. Theophanes, one of the Byzantine historians, +records, that in November of the year 472 the sky appeared to be on fire +over the city of Constantinople with the coruscations of flying meteors. +The chronicles of the West agree with those of the East in reporting +such phenomena. A remarkable display was observed on the 4th of April, +1095, both in France and England. The stars seemed, says one, "falling +like a shower of rain from heaven upon the earth;" and in another case, +a bystander, having noted the spot where an arolite fell, "cast water +upon it, which was raised in steam, with a great noise of boiling." The +chronicle of Rheims describes the appearance, as if all the stars in +heaven were driven like dust before the wind. "By the reporte of the +common people, in this kynge's time (William Rufus)," says Rastel, +"divers great wonders were sene--and therefore the king was told by +divers of his familiars, that God was not content with his lyvyng, but +he was so wilful and proude of minde, that he regarded little their +saying." There can be no hesitation now in giving credence to such +narrations as these, since similar facts have passed under the notice of +the present generation. + +The first grand phenomena of a meteoric shower which attracted attention +in modern times was witnessed by the Moravian Missionaries at their +settlements in Greenland. For several hours the hemisphere presented a +magnificent and astonishing spectacle, that of fiery particles, thick as +hail, crowding the concave of the sky, as though some magazine of +combustion in celestial space was discharging its contents toward the +earth. This was observed over a wide extent of territory. Humboldt, then +traveling in South America, accompanied by M. Bonpland, thus speaks of +it: "Toward the morning of the 13th November, 1799, we witnessed a most +extraordinary scene of shooting meteors. Thousands of bodies and falling +stars succeeded each other during four hours. Their direction was very +regular from north to south. From the beginning of the phenomenon there +was not a space in the firmament equal in extent to three diameters of +the moon which was not filled every instant with bodies of falling +stars. All the meteors left luminous traces or phosphorescent bands +behind them, which lasted seven or eight seconds." An agent of the +United States, Mr. Ellicott, at that time at sea between Cape Florida +and the West India Islands, was another spectator, and thus describes +the scene: "I was called up about three o'clock in the morning, to see +the shooting stars, as they are called. The phenomenon was grand and +awful The whole heavens appeared as if illuminated with sky-rockets, +which disappeared only by the light of the sun after daybreak. The +meteors, which at any one instant of time appeared as numerous as the +stars, flew in all possible directions, except from the earth, toward +which they all inclined more or less; and some of them descended +perpendicularly over the vessel we were in, so that I was in constant +expectation of their falling on us." The same individual states that his +thermometer, which had been at 80 Fahr. for four days preceding, fell +to 56, and, at the same time, the wind changed from the south to the +northwest, from whence it blew with great violence for three days +without intermission. The Capuchin missionary at San Fernando, a village +amid the savannahs of the province of Varinas, and the Franciscan monks +stationed near the entrance of the Oronoco, also observed this shower of +asteroids, which appears to have been visible, more or less, over an +area of several thousand miles, from Greenland to the equator, and from +the lonely deserts of South America to Weimar in Germany. About thirty +years previous, at the city of Quito, a similar event occurred. So great +a number of falling stars were seen in a part of the sky above the +volcano of Cayambaro, that the mountain itself was thought at first to +be on fire. The sight lasted more than an hour. The people assembled in +the plain of Exida, where a magnificent view presented itself of the +highest summits of the Cordilleras. A procession was already on the +point of setting out from the convent of Saint Francis, when it was +perceived that the blaze on the horizon was caused by fiery meteors, +which ran along the sky in all directions, at the altitude of twelve or +thirteen degrees. In Canada, in the years 1814 and 1819, the stellar +showers were noticed, and in the autumn of 1818 on the North Sea, when, +in the language of one of the observers, the surrounding atmosphere +seemed enveloped in one expansive ocean of fire, exhibiting the +appearance of another Moscow in flames. In the former cases, a residiuum +of dust was deposited upon the surface of the waters, on the roofs of +buildings, and on other objects. The deposition of particles of matter +of a ruddy color has frequently followed the descent of arolites--the +origin of the popular stories of the sky having rained blood. The next +exhibition upon a great scale of the falling stars occurred on the 13th +of November, 1831, and was seen off the coasts of Spain and in the Ohio +country. This was followed by another in the ensuing year at exactly the +same time. Captain Hammond, then in the Red Sea, off Mocha, in the ship +Restitution, gives the following account of it; "From one o'clock A.M. +till after daylight, there was a very unusual phenomenon in the heavens. +It appeared like meteors bursting in every direction. The sky at the +time was clear, and the stars and moon bright, with streaks of light and +thin white clouds interspersed in the sky. On landing in the morning, I +inquired of the Arabs if they had noticed the above. They said they had +been observing it most of the night. I asked them if ever the like had +appeared before? The oldest of them replied it had not." The shower was +witnessed from the Red Sea westward to the Atlantic, and from +Switzerland to the Mauritius. + +We now come to by far the most splendid display on record; which, as it +was the third in successive years, and on the same day of the month as +the two preceding, seemed to invest the meteoric showers with a +periodical character; and hence originated the title of the November +meteors. The chief scene of the exhibition was included within the +limits of the longitude of 61 in the Atlantic Ocean, and that of 100 +in Central Mexico, and from the North American lakes to the West Indies. +Over this wide area, an appearance presented itself, far surpassing in +grandeur the most imposing artificial fire-works. An incessant play of +dazzlingly brilliant luminosities was kept up in the heavens for several +hours. Some of these were of considerable magnitude and peculiar form. +One of large size remained for some time almost stationary in the +zenith, over the Falls of Niagara, emitting streams of light. The wild +dash of the waters, as contrasted with the fiery uproar above them, +formed a scene of unequaled sublimity. In many districts, the mass of +the population were terror-struck, and the more enlightened were awed at +contemplating so vivid a picture of the Apocalyptic image--that of the +stars of heaven falling to the earth, even as a fig-tree casting her +untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. A planter of South +Carolina, thus describes the effect of the scene upon the ignorant +blacks: "I was suddenly awakened by the most distressing cries that ever +fell on my ears. Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy I could hear from +most of the negroes of three plantations, amounting in all to about six +or eight hundred. While earnestly listening for the cause, I heard a +faint voice near the door calling my name. I arose, and taking my sword, +stood at the door. At this moment, I heard the same voice still +beseeching me to rise, and saying, 'O my God, the world is on fire!' I +then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most +--the awfulness of the scene, or the distressed cries of the negroes. +Upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground--some speechless, and +some with the bitterest cries, but with their hands raised, imploring +God to save the world and them. The scene was truly awful; for never did +rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell toward the earth; east, +west, north, and south, it was the same." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +This extraordinary spectacle commenced a little before midnight, and +reached its height between four and six o'clock in the morning. The +night was remarkably fine. Not a cloud obscured the firmament. Upon +attentive observation, the materials of the shower were found to exhibit +three distinct varieties:--1. Phosphoric lines formed one class +apparently described by a point. These were the most abundant. They +passed along the sky with immense velocity, as numerous as the flakes of +a sharp snow-storm. 2. Large fire-balls formed another constituency of +the scene. These darted forth at intervals along the arch of the sky, +describing an arc of 30 or 40 in a few seconds. Luminous trains marked +their path, which remained in view for a number of minutes, and in some +cases for half an hour or more. The trains were commonly white, but the +various prismatic colors occasionally appeared, vividly and beautifully +displayed. Some of these fire-balls, or shooting-stars, were of enormous +size. Dr. Smith of North Carolina observed one which appeared larger +than the full moon at the horizon. "I was startled," he remarks, "by the +splendid light in which the surrounding scene was exhibited, rendering +even small objects quite visible." The same, or a similar luminous body, +seen at New Haven, passed off in a northwest direction, and exploded +near the star Capella. 3. Another class consisted of luminosities of +irregular form, which remained nearly stationary for a considerable +time, like the one that gleamed aloft over the Niagara Falls. The +remarkable circumstance is testified by every witness, that all the +luminous bodies, without a single exception, moved in lines, which +converged in one and the same point of the heavens; a little to the +southeast of the zenith. They none of them started from this point, but +their direction, to whatever part of the horizon it might be, when +traced backward, led to a common focus. Conceive the centre of the +diagram to be nearly overhead, and a proximate idea may be formed of the +character of the scene, and the uniform radiation of the meteors from +the same source. The position of this radiant point among the stars was +near [Greek: g] Leonis. It remained stationary with respect to the stars +during the whole of the exhibition. Instead of accompanying the earth in +its diurnal motion eastward, it attended the stars in their apparent +movement westward. The source of the meteoric shower was thus +independent of the earth's rotation, and this shows its position to have +been in the regions of space exterior to our atmosphere. According to +the American Professor, Dr. Olmsted, it could not have been less than +2238 miles above the earth's surface. + +[Illustration] + +The attention of astronomers in Europe, and all over the world, was, as +may be imagined, strongly roused by intelligence of this celestial +display on the western continent; and as the occurrence of a meteoric +shower had now been observed for three years successively, at a +coincident era, it was inferred that a return of this fiery hail-storm +might be expected in succeeding Novembers. Arrangements were therefore +made to watch the heavens on the nights of the 12th and 13th in the +following years at the principal observatories; and though no such +imposing spectacle as that of 1833 has been witnessed, yet extraordinary +flights of shooting stars have been observed in various places at the +periodic time, tending also from a fixed point in the constellation Leo. +They were seen in Europe and America on November 13th, 1834. The +following results of simultaneous observation were obtained by Arago +from different parts of France on the nights of November 12th and 13th, +1830: + + Place. Meteors. + + Paris, at the Observatory 170 + Dieppe 36 + Arras 27 + Strasburg 85 + Von Altimarl 75 + Angou 49 + Rochefort 23 + Havre 300 + +On November 12th, 1837, at eight o'clock in the evening, the attention +of observers in various parts of Great Britain was directed to a bright, +luminous body, apparently proceeding from the north, which, after making +a rapid descent, in the manner of a rocket, suddenly burst, and +scattering its particles into various beautiful forms, vanished in the +atmosphere. This was succeeded by others all similar to the first, both +in shape and the manner of its ultimate disappearance. The whole display +terminated at ten o'clock, when dark clouds which continued up to a late +hour, overspread the earth, preventing any further observation. In the +November of 1838, at the same date, the falling stars were abundant at +Vienna: and one of remarkable brilliancy and size, as large as the full +moon in the zenith, was seen on the 13th by M. Verusmor, off Cherburg, +passing in the direction of Cape La Hogue, a long, luminous train +marking its course through the sky. The same year, the non-commissioned +officers in the island of Ceylon were instructed to look out for the +falling stars. Only a few appeared at the usual time; but on the 5th of +December, from nine o'clock till midnight, the shower was incessant, +and the number defied all attempts at counting them. + +[Illustration] + +Professor Olmsted, an eminent man of science, himself an eye-witness of +the great meteoric shower on the American continent, after carefully +collecting and comparing facts, proposed the following theory: The +meteors of November 13th, 1833, emanated from a nebulous body which was +then pursuing its way along with the earth around the sun; that this +body continues to revolve around the sun in an elliptical orbit, but +little inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and having its aphelion +near the orbit of the earth; and finally, that the body has a period of +nearly six months, and that its perihelion is a little within the orbit +of Mercury. The diagram represents the ellipse supposed to be described, +E being the orbit of the earth, M that of Mercury, and N that of the +assumed nebula, its aphelion distance being about 95 millions of miles, +and the perihelion 24 millions. Thus, when in aphelion, the body is +close to the orbit of the earth, and this occurring periodically, when +the earth is at the same time in that part of its orbit, nebulous +particles are attracted toward it by its gravity, and then, entering the +atmosphere, are consumed in it by their concurrent velocities, causing +the appearance of a meteoric shower. The parent body is inferred to be +nebular, because, though the meteors fall toward the earth with +prodigious velocity, few, if any, appear to have reached the surface. +They were stopped by the resistance of the air and dissipated in it, +whereas, if they had possessed any considerable quantity of matter, the +momentum would have been sufficient to have brought them down in some +instances to the earth. Arago has suggested a similar theory, that of a +stream or group of innumerable bodies, comparatively small, but of +various dimensions, sweeping round the solar focus in an orbit which +periodically cuts that of the earth. These two theories are in substance +the Chladnian hypothesis, first started to explain the observed actual +descent of arolites. Though great obscurity rests upon the subject, the +fact may be deemed certain that independently of the great planets and +satellites of the system, there are vast numbers of bodies circling +round the sun, both singly and in groups, and probably an extensive +nebula, contact with which causes the phenomena of shooting stars, +arolites, and meteoric showers. But admitting the existence of such +bodies to be placed beyond all doubt, the question of their origin, +whether original accumulations of matter, old as the planetary orbs, or +the dispersed trains of comets, or the remains of a ruined world, is a +point beyond the power of the human understanding to reach. + + + + +A FIVE DAYS' TOUR IN THE ODENWALD. + +A SKETCH OF GERMAN LIFE. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + + +The Odenwald, or Forest of Odin, is one of the most primitive districts +of Germany. It consists of a hilly, rather than a mountainous district, +of some forty miles in one direction, and thirty in another. The +beautiful Neckar bounds it on the south; on the west it is terminated by +the sudden descent of its hills into the great Rhine plain. This +boundary is well known by the name of the Bergstrasse, or mountain road; +which road, however, was at the foot of the mountains, and not over +them, as the name would seem to imply. To English travelers, the beauty +of this Bergstrasse is familiar. The hills, continually broken into by +openings into romantic valleys, slope rapidly down to the plain, covered +with picturesque vineyards; and at their feet lie antique villages, and +the richly-cultivated plains of the Rhine, here thirty or forty miles +wide. On almost every steep and projecting hill, or precipitous cliff, +stands a ruined castle, each, as throughout Germany, with its wild +history, its wilder traditions, and local associations of a hundred +kinds. The railroad from Frankfort to Heidelberg now runs along the +Bergstrasse, and will ever present to the eyes of travelers the charming +aspect of these old legendary hills; till the enchanting valley of the +Neckar, with Heidelberg reposing amid its lovely scenery at its mouth, +terminates the Bergstrasse, and the hills which stretch onward, on the +way toward Carlsruhe, assume another name. + +Every one ascending the Rhine from Mayence to Mannheim has been struck +with the beauty of these Odenwald hills, and has stood watching that +tall white tower on the summit of one of them, which, with windings of +the river, seem now brought near, and then again thrown very far off; +seemed to watch and haunt you, and, for many hours, to take short cuts +to meet you, till, at length, like a giant disappointed of his prey, it +glided away into the gray distance, and was lost in the clouds. This is +the tower of Melibocus, above the village of Auerbach, to which we shall +presently ascend, in order to take our first survey of this old and +secluded haunt of Odin. + +This quiet region of hidden valleys and deep forests extends from the +borders of the Black Forest, which commences on the other side of the +Neckar, to the Spessart, another old German forest; and in the other +direction, from Heidelberg and Darmstadt, toward Heilbronn. It is full +of ancient castles, and a world of legends. In it stands, besides the +Melibocus, another tower, on a still loftier point, called the +Katzenbuckel, which overlooks a vast extent of these forest hills. Near +this lies Eberbach, a castle of the descendants of Charlemagne, which we +shall visit; the scenes of the legend of the Wild Huntsman; the castles +of Gtz von Berlichingen, and many another spot familiar by its fame to +our minds from childhood. But besides this, the inhabitants are a people +living in a world of their own; retaining all the simplicity of their +abodes and habits; and it is only in such a region that you now +recognize the pictures of German life such as you find them in the _Haus +Mrchen_ of the brothers Grimm. + +In order to make ourselves somewhat acquainted with this interesting +district, Mrs. Howitt and myself, with knapsack on back, set out at the +end of August, 1841, to make a few days' ramble on foot through it. The +weather, however, proved so intensely hot, and the electrical sultriness +of the woods so oppressive, that we only footed it one day, when we were +compelled to make use of a carriage, much to our regret. + +On the last day in August we drove with a party of friends, and our +children, to Weinheim; rambled through its vineyards, ascended to its +ancient castle, and then went on to Birkenau Thal, a charming valley, +celebrated, as its name denotes, for its lovely hanging birches, under +which, with much happy mirth, we dined. + +Scrambling among the hills, and winding up the dry footpaths, among the +vineyards of this neighborhood, we were yet more delighted with the +general beauty of the scenery, and with the wild-flowers which every +where adorned the hanging cliffs and warm waysides. The marjorum stood +in ruddy and fragrant masses; harebells and campanulas of several kinds, +that are cultivated in our gardens, with bells large and clear; crimson +pinks; the Michaelmas daisy; a plant with a thin, radiated yellow +flower, of the character of an aster; a centaurea of a light purple, +handsomer than any English one; a thistle in the dryest places, +resembling an eryngo, with a thick, bushy top; mulleins, yellow and +white; the wild mignonnette, and the white convolvulus; and clematis +festooning the bushes, recalled the flowery fields and lanes of England, +and yet told us that we were not there. The meadows had also their moist +emerald sward scattered with the grass of Parnassus, and an autumnal +crocus of a particularly delicate lilac. + +At the inn, at the mouth of Birkenau Thal, we proposed to take the +eilwagen as far as Auerbach, but that not arriving, we availed ourselves +of a peasant's light wicker wagon. The owner was a merry fellow, and had +a particularly spirited black horse; and taking leave of our friends, +after a delightful day, we had a most charming drive to Auerbach, and +one equally amusing, from the conversation of our driver. + +After tea we ascended to Auerbach Castle, which occupies a hill above +the town, still far overtopped, however, by the height of Melibocus. The +view was glorious. The sunset across the great Rhine plain was +magnificent. It diffused over the whole western sky an atmosphere of +intense crimson light, with scattered golden clouds, and surrounded by a +deep violet splendor. The extremities of the plain, from the eye being +dazzled with this central effulgence, lay in a solemn and nearly +impenetrable gloom. The castle in ruins, seen by this light, looked +peculiarly beautiful and impressive. In the court on the wall was an +inscription, purporting that a society in honor of the military career +of the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, in whose territory and in that of +Baden the Odenwald chiefly lies, had here celebrated his birthday in the +preceding July. Round the inscription hung oaken garlands, within each +of which was written the name and date of the battles in which he had +been engaged against the French. An altar of moss and stones stood at a +few yards' distance in front of these memorials, at which a peasant +living in the tower told us, the field-preacher had delivered an oration +on the occasion. + +In the morning, at five o'clock, we began to ascend the neighboring +heights of Melibocus. It took us an hour and a quarter. The guide +carried my knapsack; and as we went, men came up through different +footpaths in the woods, with hoes on their shoulders. When we arrived +on the top, we found others, and among them some women, accompanied by a +policeman. They were peasants who had been convicted of cutting wood for +fuel in the hills, and were adjudged to pay a penalty, or in default, to +work it out in hoeing and clearing the young plantations for a +proportionate time--a much wiser way than shutting them up in a prison, +where they are of no use either to themselves or the state. + +The view from the tower, eighty feet in height, over the great Rhine +plain, is immense and splendid, including two hundred villages, towns, +and cities. The windings of the magnificent Rhine lie mapped out below +you, and on its banks are seen, as objects of peculiar interest, the +cathedral of Speier, the lofty dome of the Jesuits' church at Mannheim, +and the four towers of the noble cathedral of Worms. In the remote +distance, as a fitting termination to this noble landscape, are seen the +heights of the Donnersberg, the Vosges, and the Schwarzwald. + +The policeman, who followed us up into the tower, mentioned the time +when the inhabitants of that district had hastened thither to watch the +approach of the French armies, and pointed out the spot where they were +first seen, and described their approach, and the terrors and anxieties +of the people, in the most lively and touching manner. + +The wind was strong on this lofty height, and the rattling of the +shutters in the look-out windows in the tower, and of their fastenings, +would have been dismal enough on a stormy night, and gave quite a +wildness to it even then. The view over the Odenwald was beautiful. Half +covered with wood, as far as you could see, with green, winding straths +between them, distant castles, and glimpses of the white walls of +low-lying dorfs or villages, it gave you an idea of a region at once +solitary and attractive. The whole was filled with the cheerful light of +morning, and the wooded hills looked of the most brilliant green. We +descended, and pursued our way through the forest glades with that +feeling of enjoyment which the entrance into an unknown region, pleasant +companionship, and fine weather, inspire. When we issued from the woods +which clothe the sides of Melibocus, we sate down on the heathy turf, +and gazed with a feeling of ever-youthful delight on the scene around +us. Above us, and over its woods, rose the square white tower of +Melibocus; below, lay green valleys, from among whose orchards issued +the smoke of peaceful cottages; and beyond, rose hills covered with +other woods, with shrouded spots, the legends of which had reached us in +England, and had excited the wonder of our early days--the castle of the +Wild Huntsman--the traditions of the followers of Odin--and the +strongholds of many an iron-clad knight, as free to seize the goods of +his neighbors as he was strong to take and keep them. Now all was +peaceful and Arcadian. We met, as we descended into the valley, young +women coming up with their cows, and a shepherd with a mixed flock of +sheep and swine. He had a belt around him, to which hung a chain, +probably to fasten a cow to, as we afterward saw cows so secured. + +We found the cottages, in the depths of the valleys, among their +orchards, just those heavy, old-fashioned sort of things that we see in +German engravings; buildings of wood-framing, the plaster panels of +which were painted in various ways, and the windows of those circular +and octagon panes which, from old association, always seem to belong to +German cottages, just such as that in which the old witch lived in +_Grimm's Kinder und Haus Mrchen_; and in the _Folk Sagor_ of Sweden and +Norway. There were, too, the large ovens built out of doors and roofed +over, such as the old giantess, _Kringen som vardt stekt i ugnen_, was +put into, according to German and Scandinavian legends. The people were +of the simplest character and appearance. We seemed at once to have +stepped out of modern times into the far-past ages. We saw several +children sitting on a bench in the open air, near a school-house, +learning their lessons, and writing on their slates; and we wept into +the school. + +The schoolmaster was a man befitting the place; simple, rustic, and +devout. He told us that the boys and girls, of which his school was +full, came, some of them, from a considerable distance. They came in at +six o'clock in the morning and staid till eight, had an hour's rest, and +then came in till eleven, when they went home, and did not return again +till the next morning, being employed the rest of the day in helping +their parents; in going into the woods for fuel; into the fields to +glean, tend cattle, cut grass, or do what was wanted. All the barefooted +children of every village, how ever remote, thus acquire a tolerable +education, learning singing as a regular part of it. They have what they +call their _Sing-Stunde_, singing lesson, every day. On a black board +the _Lied_, song, or hymn for the day, was written in German character +in chalk; and the master, who was naturally anxious to exhibit the +proficiency of his scholars, gave them their singing lesson while we +were there. The scene was very interesting in itself; but there was +something humiliating to our English minds, to think that in the +Odenwald, a portion of the great Hyrcanian forest, a region associating +itself with all that is wild and obscure, every child of every hamlet +and cottage, however secluded, was provided with that instruction which +the villages of England are in a great measure yet destitute of. But +here the peasants are not, as with us, totally cut off from property in +the soil which they cultivate; totally dependent on the labor afforded +by others; on the contrary, they are themselves the possessors. This +country is, in fact, in the hands of the people. It is all parceled out +among the multitude; and, wherever you go, instead of the great halls, +vast parks, and broad lands of the few, you see perpetual evidences of +an agrarian system. Except the woods, the whole land is thrown into +small allotments, and upon them the people are laboring busily for +themselves. + +Here, in the Odenwald, the harvest, which in the great Rhine plain was +over in July, was now, in great measure, cut. Men, women, and children, +were all engaged in cutting it, getting it in, or in tending the cattle. +Everywhere stood the simple wagons of the country with their pair of +yoked cows. Women were doing all sorts of work; reaping, and mowing, and +threshing with the men. They were without shoes and stockings, clad in a +simple, dark-blue petticoat; a body of the same, leaving the white +chemise sleeves as a pleasing contrast; and their hair, in some +instances, turned up under their little black or white caps; in others +hanging wild and sunburnt on their shoulders. The women, old and young, +work as hard as the men, at all kinds of work, and yet with right +good-will, for they work for themselves. They often take their dinners +with them to the fields, frequently giving the lesser children a piece +of bread each, and locking them up in their cottages till they return. +This would be thought a hard life in England; but hard as it is, it is +better than the degradation of agricultural laborers, in a dear country +like England, with six or eight shillings a week, and no cow, no pig, +no fruit for the market, no house, garden, or field of their own; but, +on the contrary, constant anxiety, the fear of a master on whom they are +constantly dependent, and the desolate prospect of ending their days in +a union work-house. + +Each German has his house, his orchard, his road-side trees, so laden +with fruit, that if he did not carefully prop up, and tie together, and +in many places hold the boughs together with wooden clamps, they would +be torn asunder by their own weight. He has his corn-plot, his plot for +mangel-wurzel or hay, for potatoes, for hemp, etc. He is his own master, +and he therefore, and every branch of his family, have the strongest +motives for constant exertion. You see the effect of this in his +industry and his economy. + +In Germany, nothing is lost. The produce of the trees and the cows is +carried to market. Much fruit is dried for winter use. You see wooden +trays of plums, cherries, and sliced apples, lying in the sun to dry. +You see strings of them hanging from their chamber windows in the sun. +The cows are kept up for the greater part of the year, and every green +thing is collected for them. Every little nook where the grass prows by +roadside, and river, and brook, is carefully cut with the sickle, and +carried home, on the heads of women and children, in baskets, or tied in +large cloths. Nothing of any kind that can possibly be made of any use +is lost. Weeds, nettles, nay, the very goose-grass which covers waste +places, is cut up and taken for the cows. You see the little children +standing in the streets of the villages, in the streams which generally +run down them, busy washing these weeds before they are given to the +cattle. They carefully collect the leaves of the marsh-grass, carefully +cut their potato tops for them, and even, if other things fail, gather +green leaves from the woodlands. One can not help thinking continually +of the enormous waste of such things in England--of the vast quantities +of grass on banks, by roadsides, in the openings of plantations, in +lanes, in church-yards, where grass from year to year springs and dies, +but which, if carefully cut, would maintain many thousand cows for the +poor. + +To pursue still further this subject of German economy. The very +cuttings of the vines are dried and preserved for winter fodder. The +tops and refuse of the hemp serve as bedding for the cows; nay, even the +rough stalks of the poppies, after the heads have been gathered for oil, +are saved, and all these are converted into manure for the land. When +these are not sufficient, the children are sent into the woods to gather +moss; and all our readers familiar with Germany will remember to have +seen them coming homeward with large bundles of this on their heads. In +autumn, the falling leaves are gathered and stocked for the same +purpose. The fir-cones, which with us lie and rot in the woods, are +carefully collected, and sold for lighting fires. + +In short, the economy and care of the German peasant are an example to +all Europe. He has for years--nay, ages--been doing that, as it regards +agricultural management, to which the British public is but just now +beginning to open its eyes. Time, also, is as carefully economized as +every thing else. They are early risers, as may well be conceived, when +the children, many of whom come from considerable distances, are in +school at six in the morning. As they tend their cattle, or their swine, +the knitting never ceases, and hence the quantities of stockings, and +other household things, which they accumulate, are astonishing. + +We could not help, as often before, being struck in the Odenwald with +the resemblance of the present country and life of the Germans to those +of the ancient Hebrews. Germany, like Judea, is literally a land flowing +with milk and honey: a land of corn, and vine, and oil. The plains are +full of corn; the hill-sides, however stony, are green with vineyards; +and though they have not the olive, they procure vast quantities of oil +from the walnut, the poppy, and the rape. The whole country is parceled +out among its people. There are no hedges, but the landmarks, against +the removal of which the Jewish law so repeatedly and so emphatically +denounces its terrors, alone indicate the boundaries of each man's +possession. Every where you see the ox and the heifer toiling beneath +the primitive yoke, as in the days of David. The threshing-floor of +Araunah often comes to your mind when you see the different members of a +family--father, mother, brother, and sister, all threshing out their +corn together on the mud floor of their barn; but much more so when you +see them, in the corn-field itself, collect the sheaves into one place, +and treading down the earth into a solid floor, there, in the face of +heaven and fanned by its winds, thresh out on the spot the corn which +has been cut. This we saw continually going forward on the steep slopes +of the Odenwald, ten or a dozen men and women all threshing together. A +whole field is thus soon threshed, the corn being beaten out much more +easily while the ear is crisp with the hot sun. + +Having taken leave of the schoolmaster, his scholars, and his bees, with +whose hives nearly all his house-side was covered, we pursued our way to +the Jgerhaus on the top of the Felsberg, one of the highest hills in +the Odenwald. The day was splendid, with a fine breeze, and all around +was new, cheerful, yet solitary, bright and inspiriting. The peasants in +the harvest-fields, the herds watching their cattle, gave us a passing +salutation, and when within sight of you, took off their hats, even at a +field's distance. We walked on in great enjoyment, here sitting to look +back on the scenes we had left, or to drink from the glittering waters +that we had to pass. + +Just as we were about to enter the woods again, we met an old woman +slowly wandering on from some cottages among the trees by the wood-side. +She had a leathern belt round her waist, and a cord fastened to it, by +which she led her cow to graze in the thickets and by the foot-path, +while her hands were busy with her knitting. A boy, about seven years +old, was leading a kid by a chain, letting it crop the flowers of the +hawkweed in the grass. The old woman saluted us cheerfully; told us that +the boy's father was in America, and his mother gone out to service, and +that he was intrusted to her care. Could there be any thing more like a +scene in the old _Mrchen_, or less like one in England? + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE MYSTERIOUS PREACHER. + + +In one of those strolls which I have always loved to take into different +and little frequented parts of these kingdoms, I fell in with a +venerable old man, dressed in black, with very white hair, and of a +mild, somewhat melancholy and intelligent look. It was a beautiful scene +where I first encountered him--in a wood, on the banks of a noble river. +I accosted the old man with a remark on the delightfulness of the time +and place; and he replied to my observations with a warmth, and in a +tone, which strongly affected me. I soon found that he was as +enthusiastic a lover of nature as myself--that he had seen many of the +finest portions of the kingdom, and had wandered through them with +Milton or Shakspeare, Herbert or Quarles, in his hand. He was one of +those who, reading with his own eyes and heart, and not through the +spectacles of critics, had not been taught to despise the last old poet, +nor to treat his rich and quaint versification, and his many manly and +noble thoughts, as the conceits and rhymes of a poetaster. His reverence +for the great names of our literature, and his just appreciation of +their works, won upon me greatly. I invited him to continue his walk; +and--so well was I pleased with him--to visit me at my rustic lodgment. + +From that day, for some weeks, we daily walked together. I more and more +contemplated with admiration and esteem the knowledge, the fine taste, +the generous sentiments, the profound love of nature which seemed to +fill the whole being of the old man. But who and whence was he? He said +not a word on that subject, and I did not, therefore, feel freedom to +inquire. He might have secret griefs, which such a query might awaken. I +respect too much the wounded heart of humanity carelessly to probe it, +and especially the heart of a solitary being who, in the downward stage +of life, may, perchance, be the stripped and scathed remnant of a +once-endeared family. He stood before me alone. He entered into +reminiscences, but they were reminiscences connected with no near ties; +but had such ties now existed, he would in some hour of frank enthusiasm +have said so. He did not say it, and it was, therefore, sufficiently +obvious, that he had a history which he left down in the depths of his +heart, beyond the vision of all but that heart itself. And yet, whatever +were the inward memories of this venerable man, there was a buoyancy and +youthfulness of feeling about him which amply manifested that they had +not quenched the love and enjoyment of life in him. + +On different days we took, during the most beautiful spring, strolls of +many miles into distant dales and villages, and on the wild brown moors. +Now we sate by a moorland stream, talking of many absorbing things in +the history of the poetry and the religion of our country, and I could +plainly see that my ancient friend had in him the spirit of an old +Covenanter, and that, had he lived in the days of contest between the +church of kings and the church of God, he would have gone to the field +or the stake for his faith as triumphantly as any martyr of those times. +It was under the influence of one of these conversations that I could +not avoid addressing to the old man the following youthful stanzas, +which, though they may exhibit little poetry, testify to the patriotism +which his language inspired: + + My friend! there have been men + To whom we turn again + After contemplating the present age, + And long, with vain regret, + That they were living yet, + Virtue's high war triumphantly to wage. + + Men whose renown was built + Not on resplendent guilt-- + Not through life's waste, or the abuse of power, + But by the dauntless zeal + With which at truth's appeal, + They stood unto the death in some eventful hour. + + But he who now shall deem, + Because among us seem + No dubious symptoms of a realm's decline-- + Wealth blind with its excess + 'Mid far-diffused distress, + And pride that kills, professing to refine-- + + He who deems hence shall flow + The utter overthrow + Of this most honored and long happy land, + Little knows what there lies + Even beneath his eyes, + Slumbering in forms that round about him stand. + + Little knows he the zeal + Myriads of spirits feel + In love, pure principle, and knowledge strong; + Little knows he what men + Tread this dear land again, + Whose souls of fire invigorate the throng. + + My friend! I lay with thee + Beneath the forest tree, + When spring was shedding her first sweets around. + And the bright sky above + Woke feelings of deep love, + And thoughts which traveled through the blue profound. + + I lay, and as I heard-- + The joyful faith thus stirred, + Shot like Heaven's lightning through my wondering breast + I heard, and in my thought + Glory and greatness wrought, + And blessing God--my native land I blest. + +Now we entered a village inn, and ate our simple luncheon; and now we +stood in some hamlet lane, or by its mossy well, with a group of +children about us, among whom not a child appeared more child-like or +more delighted than the old man. Nay, as we came back from a fifteen or +twenty miles' stroll, he would leap over a stile with the activity of a +boy, or run up to a wilding bush, covered with its beautiful pink +blossoms, and breaking off a branch hold it up in admiration, and +declare that it appeared almost sinful for an old man like him to enjoy +himself so keenly. I know not when I more deeply felt the happiness and +the holiness of existence, the wealth of intellect, and the blessings of +our fancies, sympathies, and affection, than I used to do as this +singular stranger sate with me on the turf-seat at the vine-covered end +of the old cottage, which then made my temporary residence, on the +serene evenings of that season, over our rustic tea-table, and with the +spicy breath of the wall-flowers of that little garden breathing around +us, and held conversation on many a subject of moral and intellectual +speculation which then deeply interested me. In some of those evening +hours he at length gave me glimpses into his past existence. Things more +strange and melancholy than I could ever have suspected had passed over +him, and only the more interested me in him. + +Such had been our acquaintance for some months, when, one evening, +happening to be in the neighboring town, and passing through a +densely-populated part of it, I saw a number of people crowding into a +chapel. With my usual curiosity in all that relates to the life, habits, +and opinions of my fellow-men, I entered, and was no little surprised to +behold my ancient friend in the pulpit. As I believed he had not +observed me enter, and as I was desirous to hear my worthy friend, thus +most unexpectedly found in this situation, without attracting his +attention, I therefore seated myself in the shade of a pillar, and +awaited the sermon. My surprise, as I listened to it, was excessive, on +more accounts than one. I was surprised at the intense, fervid, and +picturesque blaze of eloquence that breathed forth from the preacher, +seeming to light up the whole place, and fill it with an unearthly and +cloudy fire. I was more astonished by the singularity and wildness of +the sentiments uttered. I looked again and again at the rapt and +ecstatic preacher. His frame seemed to expand, and to be buoyed up, by +his glowing enthusiasm, above the very height of humanity. His hair, +white as snow, seemed a pale glory burning round his head, and his +countenance, warm with the expression of his entranced spirit, was +molten into the visage of a pleading seraph, who saw the terrors of the +Divinity revealed before him, and felt only that they for whom he +wrestled were around him. _They_ hung upon that awful and unearthly +countenance with an intensity which, in beings at the very bar of +eternal judgment, hanging on the advocacy of an angel, could scarcely +have been exceeded; and when he ceased, and sat down, a sigh, as from +every heart at once, went through the place, which marked the fall of +their rapt imaginations from the high region whither his words and +expressive features had raised them, to the dimness and reality of +earth. I could scarcely persuade myself that this was my late friend of +the woods and fields, and of the evening discourse, so calm and +dispassionate, over our little tea-table. + +I escaped cautiously with the crowd, and eagerly interrogated a man who +passed out near me who was the preacher? He looked at me with an air of +surprise; but seeing me a stranger, he said he thought I could not have +been in those parts long, or I should have known Mr. M----. I then +learned that my venerable acquaintance was one whose name was known far +and wide--known for the strange and fascinating powers of his pulpit +eloquence, and for the peculiarity of his religious views. The +singularity of those notions alone had prevented his becoming one of the +most popular religious orators of his time. They had been the source of +perpetual troubles and persecutions to him, they had estranged from him +the most zealous of his friends from time to time; yet they were such +only as he could lay down at the threshold of Divine judgment; and +still, wherever he went, although they were a root of bitterness to him +in private, he found in public a crowd of eager and enthusiastic +hearers, who hung on his words as if they came at once warm from the +inner courts of heaven. + +The sense of this discovery, and of the whole strange scene of the last +evening, hung powerfully upon me through the following day. I sat on the +bench of my cottage window, with a book in my hand, the greater part of +it, but my thoughts continually reverted to the image of the preacher in +the midst of his audience; when, at evening, in walked the old man with +his usual quiet smile, and shaking me affectionately by the hand, sat +down in a wooden chair opposite me. I looked again and again, but in +vain, to recognize the floating figure and the exalted countenance of +the evening. + +The old man took up my book, and began to read. A sudden impulse seized +me which I have never ceased to regret. I did not wish abruptly to tell +the old man that I had seen him in the pulpit, but I longed to discuss +with him the ground of his peculiar views, and said, + +"What do you think, my friend, of the actual future destiny of the--?" + +I made the question include his peculiar doctrines. He laid down the +volume with a remarkable quickness of action. He gazed at me for a +moment with a look humbled but not confused, such as I had never seen in +him before, and, in a low voice, said, + +"You were then at my chapel last night?" + +"I was," I replied. + +"I am sorry--I am sorry," he said, rising with a sigh. "It has been a +pleasant time, but it is ended. Good-by, my dear young friend, and may +God bless you!" + +He turned silently but quickly away. + +"Stop!" I cried. "Stop!" But he heard or heeded not. I ran to the gate +to lay hold on him, and assure him that his sentiments would not alter +my regard for him, but I observed him already hastening down the lane at +such a speed that I judged it rude and useless at that moment to pursue. + +I went down that day to his lodgings, to assure him of my sentiments +toward him, but door and window were closed, and if he were in he would +not hear me. Early next morning a little ragged boy brought me a note, +saying a gentleman in the lane had given it to him. It simply said: + +"Dear young friend, good-by. You wonder at my abruptness; but my +religion has always been fatal to my friendship. You will say it would +not with you: so has many another assured me; but I am too well schooled +by bitter experience. I have had a call to a distant place. No one knows +of it, and I trust the name to no one. The pleasure of your society has +detained me, or I had obeyed the call a month ago. May we meet in +Heaven! C.M." + +He was actually gone, and no one knew whither. + +Time had passed over, and I had long imagined this strange and gifted +being in his grave, when in a wild and remote part of the kingdom, the +other day, I accidentally stumbled upon his retreat, and found him in +his pulpit with the same rapt aspect, uttering an harangue as exciting, +and surrounded by an audience as eagerly devouring his words. + + + + +[From Chesney's Expedition to the Euphrates and Tigris.] + +ASSYRIAN SECTS. + + +There are two remarkable sects, one of which, called the Mendajaha +(disciples of John), is found scattered in small communities in Basrah, +Kurnah, Mohammarah, and, lastly, Sheikh el Shuyukh, where there are +about three hundred families. Those of Basrah are noticed by Pietro de +la Valle who says the Arabs call them Sabeans. Their religion is +evidently a mixture of Paganism, Hebrew, Mohammedan, and Christian. They +profess to regulate their lives by a book called the Sidra, containing +many moral precepts, which, according to tradition, have been handed +down from Adam, through Seth and Enoch; and it is understood to be in +their language (the Chaldee), but written in a peculiar character. They +abhor circumcision, but are very particular in distinguishing between +clean and unclean animals, and likewise in keeping the Sabbath with +extraordinary strictness. The Psalms of David are in use, but they are +held to be inferior to their own book. They abstain from garlic, beans, +and several kinds of pulse, and likewise most carefully from every +description of food between sunrise and sunset during a whole moon +before the vernal equinox; in addition to which, an annual festival is +kept, called the feast of five days. Much respect is entertained for the +city of Mecca, and a still greater reverence for the Pyramids of Egypt, +in one of which they believe that their great progenitor, Saba, son of +Seth, is buried; and to his original residence at Haran they make very +particular pilgrimages, sacrificing on these occasions a ram and a hen. +They pray seven times a day, turning sometimes to the south and +sometimes to the north. But, at the same time, they retain a part of the +ancient worship of the heavenly bodies, adding that of angels, with the +belief that the souls of the wicked are to enjoy a happier state after +nine hundred centuries of suffering. The priests, who are called +sheikhs, or chiefs, use a particular kind of baptism, which, they say, +was instituted by St. John; and the Chaldee language is used in this and +other ceremonies. + +The other religion, that of a more numerous branch, the Yezidis, is, in +some respects, like the Mendajaha, but with the addition of the evil +principle, the exalted doctor, who, as an instrument of the divine will, +is propitiated rather than worshiped, as had been once supposed. The +Yezidis reverence Moses, Christ, and Mohammed, in addition to many of +the saints and prophets held in veneration both by Christians and +Moslems. They adore the sun, as symbolical of Christ, and believe in an +intermediate state after death. The Yezidis of Sinjar do not practice +circumcision, nor do they eat pork; but they freely partake of the blood +of other animals. Their manners are simple, and their habits, both +within and without, remarkable for cleanliness. They are, besides, +brave, hospitable, sober, faithful, and, with the exception of the +Mohammedan, are inclined to tolerate other religions; they are, however, +lamentably deficient in every branch of education. Polygamy is not +permitted, and the tribes intermarry with each other. The families of +the father and sons live under the same roof, and the patriarchal system +is carried out still further, each village being under its own +hereditary chief. + + + + +THE APPROACH OF CHRISTMAS. + + The time draws near the birth of Christ, + The moon is hid, the night is still; + A single church below the hill + Is pealing, folded in the mist + + A single peal of bells below, + That wakens at this hour of rest + A single murmur in the breast, + That these are not the bells I know + + Like strangers' voices here they sound, + In lands where not a memory strays, + Nor landmark breathes of other days. + But all is new unhallow'd ground. + +TENNYSON'S "_In Memoriam_". + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +UGLINESS REDEEMED--A TALE OF A LONDON DUST-HEAP. + + +On a murky morning in November, wind northeast, a poor old woman with a +wooden leg was seen struggling against the fitful gusts of the bitter +breeze, along a stony, zig-zag road full of deep and irregular +cart-ruts. Her ragged petticoat was blue, and so was her wretched nose. +A stick was in her left hand, which assisted her to dig and hobble her +way along; and in her other hand, supported also beneath her withered +arm, was a large, rusty, iron sieve. Dust and fine ashes filled up all +the wrinkles in her face; and of these there were a prodigious number, +for she was eighty-three years old. Her name was Peg Dotting. + +About a quarter of a mile distant, having a long ditch and a broken-down +fence as a foreground, there rose against the muddled-gray sky, a huge +dust-heap of a dirty-black color--being, in fact, one of those immense +mounds of cinders, ashes, and other emptyings from dust-holes and bins, +which have conferred celebrity on certain suburban neighborhoods of a +great city. Toward this dusky mountain old Peg Dotting was now making +her way. + +Advancing toward the dust-heap by an opposite path, very narrow and just +reclaimed from the mud by a thick layer of freshly broken flints, there +came at the same time Gaffer Doubleyear, with his bone-bag slung over +his shoulder. The rags of his coat fluttered in the east-wind, which +also whistled keenly round his almost rimless hat, and troubled his one +eye. The other eye, having met with an accident last week, he had +covered neatly with an oyster-shell, which was kept in its place by a +string at each side, fastened through a hole. He used no staff to help +him along, though his body was nearly bent double, so that his face was +constantly turned to the earth, like that of a four-footed creature. He +was ninety-seven years of age. + +As these two patriarchal laborers approached the great dust-heap, a +discordant voice hallooed to them from the top of a broken wall. It was +meant as a greeting of the morning, and proceeded from little Jem +Clinker, a poor deformed lad, whose back had been broken when a child. +His nose and chin were much too large for the rest of his face, and he +had lost nearly all his teeth from premature decay. But he had an eye +gleaming with intelligence and life, and an expression at once patient +and hopeful. He had balanced his misshapen frame on the top of the old +wall, over which one shriveled leg dangled, as if by the weight of a +hob-nailed boot, that covered a foot large enough for a plowman. + +In addition to his first morning's salutation of his two aged friends, +he now shouted out in a tone of triumph and self-gratulation, in which +he felt assured of their sympathy--"Two white skins, and a +tor'shell-un." + +It may be requisite to state that little Jem Clinker belonged to the +dead-cat department of the dust-heap, and now announced that a prize of +three skins, in superior condition, had rewarded him for being first in +the field. He was enjoying a seat on the wall in order to recover +himself from the excitement of his good fortune. + +At the base of the great dust-heap the two old people now met their +young friend--a sort of great-grandson by mutual adoption--and they at +once joined the party who had by this time assembled as usual, and were +already busy at their several occupations. + +But besides all these, another individual, belonging to a very different +class, formed a part of the scene, though appearing only on its +outskirts. A canal ran along at the rear of the dust-heap, and on the +banks of its opposite side slowly wandered by--with hands clasped and +hanging down in front of him, and eyes bent vacantly upon his hands--the +forlorn figure of a man in a very shabby great-coat, which had evidently +once belonged to one in the position of a gentleman. And to a gentleman +it still belonged--but in _what_ a position! A scholar, a man of wit, of +high sentiment, of refinement, and a good fortune withal--now by a +sudden "turn of law" bereft of the last only, and finding that none of +the rest, for which (having his fortune) he had been so much admired, +enabled him to gain a livelihood. His title deeds had been lost or +stolen, and so he was bereft of every thing he possessed. He had +talents, and such as would have been profitably available had he known +how to use them for this new purpose; but he did not; he was +misdirected; he made fruitless efforts, in his want of experience; and +he was now starving. As he passed the great dust-heap, he gave one +vague, melancholy gaze that way, and then looked wistfully into the +canal. And he continued to look into the canal as he slowly moved along, +till he was out of sight. + +A dust-heap of this kind is often worth thousands of pounds. The present +one was very large and very valuable. It was in fact a large hill, and +being in the vicinity of small suburb cottages, it rose above them like +a great black mountain. Thistles, groundsel, and rank grass grew in +knots on small parts which had remained for a long time undisturbed; +crows often alighted on its top, and seemed to put on their spectacles +and become very busy and serious; flocks of sparrows often made +predatory descents upon it; an old goose and gander might sometimes be +seen following each other up its side, nearly midway; pigs rooted round +its base, and, now and then, one bolder than the rest would venture some +way up, attracted by the mixed odors of some hidden marrow-bone +enveloped in a decayed cabbage leaf--a rare event, both of these +articles being unusual oversights of the searchers below. + +The principal ingredient of all these dust-heaps is fine cinders and +ashes; but as they are accumulated from the contents of all the +dust-holes and bins of the vicinity, and as many more as possible, the +fresh arrivals in their original state present very heterogeneous +materials. We can not better describe them, than by presenting a brief +sketch of the different departments of the searchers and sorters, who +are assembled below to busy themselves upon the mass of original matters +which are shot out from the carts of the dustmen. + +The bits of coal, the pretty numerous results of accident and servants' +carelessness, are picked out, to be sold forthwith; the largest and best +of the cinders are also selected, by another party, who sell them to +laundresses, or to braziers (for whose purposes coke would not do so +well); and the next sort of cinders, called the _breeze_, because it is +left after the wind has blown the finer cinders through an upright +sieve, is sold to the brick-makers. + +Two other departments, called the "soft-ware" and the "hard-ware," are +very important. The former includes all vegetable and animal +matters--every thing that will decompose. These are selected and bagged +at once, and carried off as soon as possible, to be sold as manure for +ploughed land, wheat, barley, &c. Under this head, also, the dead cats +are comprised. They are, generally, the perquisites of the women +searchers. Dealers come to the wharf, or dust-field, every evening; they +give sixpence for a white cat, fourpence for a colored cat, and for a +black one according to her quality. The "hard-ware" includes all broken +pottery, pans, crockery, earthenware, oyster-shells, &c, which are sold +to make new roads. + +"The bones" are selected with care, and sold to the soap-boiler. He +boils out the fat and marrow first, for special use, and the bones are +then crushed and sold for manure. + +Of "rags," the woolen rags are bagged and sent off for hop-manure; the +white linen rags are washed, and sold to make paper, &c. + +The "tin things" are collected and put into an oven with a grating at +the bottom, so that the solder which unites the parts melts, and runs +through into a receiver. This is sold separately; the detached pieces of +tin are then sold to be melted up with old iron, &c. + +Bits of old brass, lead, &c., are sold to be melted up separately, or in +the mixture of ores. + +All broken glass vessels, as cruets, mustard-pots, tumblers, +wine-glasses, bottles, &c., are sold to the old-glass shops. + +As for any articles of jewelry, silver-spoons, forks, thimbles, or other +plate and valuables, they are pocketed off-hand by the first finder. +Coins of gold and silver are often found, and many "coppers." + +Meantime, every body is hard at work near the base of the great +dust-heap. A certain number of cart-loads having been raked and searched +for all the different things just described, the whole of it now +undergoes the process of sifting. The men throw up the stuff, and the +women sift it. + +"When I was a young girl," said Peg Dotting-- + +"That's a long while ago, Peggy," interrupted one of the sifters: but +Peg did not hear her. + +"When I was quite a young thing," continued she, addressing old John +Doubleyear, who threw up the dust into her sieve, "it was the fashion to +wear pink roses in the shoes, as bright as that morsel of ribbon Sally +has just picked out of the dust; yes, and sometimes in the hair, too, on +one side of the head, to set off the white powder and salve-stuff. I +never wore one of these head-dresses myself--don't throw up the dust so +high, John--but I lived only a few doors lower down from those as _did_. +Don't throw up the dust so high, I tell 'ee--the wind takes it into my +face." + +"Ah! There! What's that?" suddenly exclaimed little Jem, running as fast +as his poor withered legs would allow him, toward a fresh heap, which +had just been shot down on the wharf from a dustman's cart. He made a +dive and a search--then another--then one deeper still. "I'm _sure_ I +saw it!" cried he, and again made a dash with both hands into a fresh +place, and began to distribute the ashes, and dust, and rubbish on every +side, to the great merriment of all the rest. + +"What did you see, Jemmy?" asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate +tone. + +"Oh, I don't know," said the boy, "only it was like a bit of something +made of real gold!" + +A fresh burst of laughter from the company assembled followed this +somewhat vague declaration, to which the dustmen added one or two +elegant epithets, expressive of their contempt of the notion that _they_ +could have overlooked a bit of any thing valuable in the process of +emptying sundry dust-holes, and carting them away. + +"Ah," said one of the sifters, "poor Jem's always a-fancying something +or other good--but it never comes." + +"Didn't I find three cats this morning!" cried Jem; "two on 'em white +'uns! How you go on!" + +"I meant something quite different from the like o' that," said the +other; "I was a-thinking of the rare sights all you three there have +had, one time and another." + +The wind having changed and the day become bright, the party at work all +seemed disposed to be more merry than usual. The foregoing remark +excited the curiosity of several of the sifters, who had recently joined +the "company," the parties alluded to were requested to favor them with +the recital; and though the request was made with only a half-concealed +irony, still it was all in good-natured pleasantry, and was immediately +complied with. Old Doubleyear spoke first. + +"I had a bad night of it with the rats some years ago--they run'd all +over the floor, and over the bed, and one on 'em come'd and guv a squeak +close into my ear--so I couldn't sleep comfortable. I wouldn't ha' +minded a trifle of at; but this was too much of a good thing. So, I got +up before sun-rise, and went out for a walk; and thinking I might as +well be near our work-place, I slowly come'd down this way. I worked in +a brick-field at that time, near the canal yonder. The sun was just +a-rising up behind the dust-heap as I got in sight of it; and soon it +rose above, and was very bright; and though I had two eyes then, I was +obligated to shut them both. When I opened them again, the sun was +higher up; but in his haste to get over the dust-heap, he had dropped +something. You may laugh. I say he had dropped something. Well--I can't +say what it was, in course--a bit of his-self, I suppose. It was just +like him--a bit on him, I mean--quite as bright--just the same--only not +so big. And not up in the sky, but a-lying and sparkling all on fire +upon the dust-heap. Thinks I--I was a younger man then by some years +than I am now--I'll go and have a nearer look. Though you be a bit o' +the sun, maybe you won't hurt a poor man. So, I walked toward the +dust-heap, and up I went, keeping the piece of sparkling fire in sight +all the while. But before I got up to it, the sun went behind a +cloud--and as he went out-like, so the young 'un he had dropped, went +out after him. And I had my climb up the heap for nothing, though I had +marked the place were it lay very percizely. But there was no signs at +all on him, and no morsel left of the light as had been there. I +searched all about; but found nothing 'cept a bit o' broken glass as had +got stuck in the heel of an old shoe. And that's my story. But if ever a +man saw any thing at all, I saw a bit o' the sun; and I thank God for +it. It was a blessed sight for a poor ragged old man of three score and +ten, which was my age at that time." + +"Now, Peggy!" cried several voices, "tell us what you saw. Peg saw a bit +o' the moon." + +"No," said Mrs. Dotting, rather indignantly; "I'm no moon-raker. Not a +sign of the moon was there, nor a spark of a star--the time I speak on." + +"Well--go on, Peggy--go on." + +"I don't know as I will," said Peggy. + +But being pacified by a few good-tempered, though somewhat humorous +compliments, she thus favored them with her little adventure: + +"There was no moon, nor stars, nor comet, in the 'versal heavens, nor +lamp nor lantern along the road, when I walked home one winter's night +from the cottage of Widow Pin, where I had been to tea, with her and +Mrs. Dry, as lived in the almshouses. They wanted Davy, the son of Bill +Davy the milkman, to see me home with the lantern, but I wouldn't let +him 'cause of his sore throat. Throat!--no, it wasn't his throat as was +rare sore--it was--no, it wasn't--yes, it was--it was his toe as was +sore. His big toe. A nail out of his boot had got into it. I _told_ him +he'd be sure to have a bad toe, if he didn't go to church more regular, +but he wouldn't listen; and so my words come'd true. But, as I was +a-saying, I wouldn't let him light me with the lantern by reason of his +sore throat--_toe_, I mean--and as I went along, the night seemed to +grow darker and darker. A straight road, though, and I was so used to it +by day-time, it didn't matter for the darkness. Hows'ever, when I come'd +near the bottom of the dust-heap as I had to pass, the great dark heap +was so zackly the same as the night, you couldn't tell one from t'other. +So, thinks I to myself--_what_ was I thinking of at this moment?--for +the life o' me I can't call it to mind; but that's neither here nor +there, only for this--it was a something that led me to remember the +story of how the devil goes about like a roaring lion. And while I was +a-hoping he might not be out a-roaring that night, what should I see +rise out of one side of the dust-heap, but a beautiful shining star of a +violet color. I stood as still--as stock-still as any I don't-know-what! +There it lay, as beautiful as a new-born babe, all a-shining in the +dust! By degrees I got courage to go a little nearer--and then a little +nearer still--for, says I to myself, I'm a sinful woman, I know, but I +have repented, and do repent constantly of all the sins of my youth, and +the backslidings of my age--which have been numerous; and once I had a +very heavy backsliding--but that's neither here nor there. So, as I was +a-saying, having collected all my sinfulness of life, and humbleness +before heaven, into a goodish bit of courage, forward I steps--little +furder--and a leetle furder more--_un_-til I come'd just up to the +beautiful shining star lying upon the dust. Well, it was a long time I +stood a-looking down at it, before I ventured to do, what I arterwards +did. But _at_ last I did stoop down with both hands slowly--in case it +might burn, or bite--and gathering up a good scoop of ashes as my hands +went along, I took it up, and began a-carrying it home, all shining +before me, and with a soft, blue mist rising up round about it. Heaven +forgive me!--I was punished for meddling with what Providence had sent +for some better purpose than to be carried home by an old woman like me, +whom it has pleased heaven to afflict with the loss of one leg, and the +pain, ixpinse, and inconvenience of a wooden one. Well--I _was_ +punished; covetousness had its reward; for, presently, the violet light +got very pale, and then went out; and when I reached home, still holding +in both hands all I had gathered up, and when I took it to the candle, +it had turned into the red shell of a lobsky's head, and its two black +eyes poked up at me with a long stare--and I may say, a strong smell +too--enough to knock a poor body down." + +Great applause, and no little laughter, followed the conclusion of old +Peggy's story, but she did not join in the merriment. She said it was +all very well for young people to laugh, but at her age she had enough +to do to pray; and she had never said so many prayers, nor with so much +fervency, as she had done since she received the blessed sight of the +blue star on the dust-heap, and the chastising rod of the lobster's +head at home. + +Little Jem's turn now came; the poor lad was, however, so excited by the +recollection of what his companions called "Jem's Ghost," that he was +unable to describe it in any coherent language. To his imagination it +had been a lovely vision--the one "bright consummate flower" of his +life, which he treasured up as the most sacred image in his heart. He +endeavored, in wild and hasty words, to set forth, how that he had been +bred a chimney-sweep; that one Sunday afternoon he had left a set of +companions, most on 'em sweeps, who were all playing at marbles in the +church-yard, and he had wandered to the dust-heap, where he had fallen +asleep; that he was awoke by a sweet voice in the air, which said +something about some one having lost her way!--that he, being now wide +awake, looked up, and saw with his own eyes a young angel, with fair +hair and rosy cheeks, and large white wings at her shoulders, floating +about like bright clouds, rise out of the dust! She had on a garment of +shining crimson, which changed as he looked upon her to shining gold, +then to purple and gold. She then exclaimed, with a joyful smile, "I see +the right way!" and the next moment the angel was gone. + +As the sun was just now very bright and warm for the time of the year, +and shining full upon the dust-heap in its setting, one of the men +endeavored to raise a laugh at the deformed lad, by asking him if he +didn't expect to see just such another angel at this minute, who had +lost her way in the field on the other side of the heap; but his jest +failed. The earnestness and devout emotion of the boy to the vision of +reality which his imagination, aided by the hues of sunset, had thus +exalted, were too much for the gross spirit of banter, and the speaker +shrank back into his dust-hovel, and affected to be very assiduous in +his work as the day was drawing to a close. + +Before the day's work was ended, however, little Jem again had a glimpse +of the prize which had escaped him on the previous occasion. He +instantly darted, hands and head foremost, into the mass of cinders and +rubbish, and brought up a black mass of half-burnt parchment, entwined +with vegetable refuse, from which he speedily disengaged an oval frame +of gold, containing a miniature, still protected by its glass, but half +covered with mildew from the damp. He was in ecstasies at the prize. +Even the white cat-skins paled before it. In all probability some of the +men would have taken it from, him "to try and find the owner," but for +the presence and interference of his friends Peg Dotting and old +Doubleyear, whose great age, even among the present company, gave them a +certain position of respect and consideration. So all the rest now went +their way, leaving the three to examine and speculate on the prize. + +The dust-heaps are a wonderful compound of things. A banker's check for +a considerable sum was found in one of them. It was on Herries and +Farquhar, in 1847. But bankers' checks, or gold and silver articles, are +the least valuable of their ingredients. Among other things, a variety +of useful chemicals are extracted. Their chief value, however, is for +the making of bricks. The fine cinder-dust and ashes are used in the +clay of the bricks, both for the red and gray stacks. Ashes are also +used as fuel between the layers of the clump of bricks, which could not +be burned in that position without them. The ashes burn away, and keep +the bricks open. Enormous quantities are used. In the brick-fields at +Uxbridge, near the Drayton Station, one of the brickmakers alone will +frequently contract for fifteen or sixteen thousand chaldron of this +cinder-dust, in one order. Fine coke or coke-dust, affects the market at +times as a rival; but fine coal, or coal-dust, never, because it would +spoil the bricks. + +As one of the heroes of our tale had been originally--before his +promotion--a chimney-sweeper, it may be only appropriate to offer a +passing word on the genial subject of soot. Without speculating on its +origin and parentage, whether derived from the cooking of a Christmas +dinner, or the production of the beautiful colors and odors of exotic +plants in a conservatory, it can briefly be shown to possess many +qualities both useful and ornamental. When soot is first collected, it +is called "rough soot," which, being sifted, is then called "fine soot," +and is sold to farmers for manuring and preserving wheat and turnips. +This is more especially used in Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Essex, &c. +It is rather a costly article, being fivepence per bushel. One +contractor sells annually as much as three thousand bushels; and he +gives it as his opinion, that there must be at least one hundred and +fifty times this quantity (four hundred and fifty thousand bushels per +annum) sold in London. Farmer Smutwise of Bradford, distinctly asserts +that the price of the soot he uses on his land is returned to him in the +straw, with improvement also to the grain. And we believe him. Lime is +used to dilute soot when employed as a manure. Using it pure will keep +off snails, slugs, and caterpillars, from peas and various other +vegetables, as also from dahlias just shooting up, and other flowers; +but we regret to add that we have sometimes known it kill, or burn up +the things it was intended to preserve from unlawful eating. In short, +it is by no means so safe to use for any purpose of garden manure, as +fine cinders, and wood-ashes, which are good for almost any kind of +produce, whether turnips or roses. Indeed, we should like to have one +fourth or fifth part of our garden-beds composed of excellent stuff of +this kind. From all that has been said, it will have become very +intelligible why these dust-heaps are so valuable. Their worth, however, +varies not only with their magnitude (the quality of all of them is much +the same), but with the demand. About the year 1820, the Marylebone +dust-heap produced between four thousand and five thousand pounds. In +1832, St. George's paid Mr. Stapleton five hundred pounds a year, not +to leave the heap standing, but to carry it away. Of course he was only +too glad to be paid highly for selling his dust. + +But to return. The three friends having settled to their satisfaction +the amount of money they should probably obtain by the sale of the +golden miniature-frame, and finished the castles which they had built +with it in the air, the frame was again enfolded in the sound part of +the parchment, the rags and rottenness of the law were cast away, and up +they rose to bend their steps homeward to the little hovel where Peggy +lived, she having invited the others to tea that they might talk yet +more fully over the wonderful good luck that had befallen them. + +"Why, if there isn't a man's head in the canal!" suddenly cried little +Jem. "Looky there!--isn't that a man's head?--Yes; it's a drowndedd +man?" + +"A drowndedd man, as I live!" ejaculated old Doubleyear. + +"Let's get him out, and see!" cried Peggy. "Perhaps the poor soul's not +quite gone." + +Little Jem scuttled off to the edge of the canal, followed by the two +old people. As soon as the body had floated nearer, Jem got down into +the water, and stood breast-high, vainly measuring his distance with one +arm out, to see if he could reach some part of the body as it was +passing. As the attempt was evidently without a chance, old Doubleyear +managed to get down into the water behind him, and holding him by one +hand, the boy was thus enabled to make a plunge forward as the body was +floating by. He succeeded in reaching it; but the jerk was too much for +the weakness of his aged companion, who was pulled forward into the +canal. A loud cry burst from both of them, which was yet more loudly +echoed by Peggy on the bank. Doubleyear and the boy were now struggling +almost in the middle of the canal with the body of the man swirling +about between them. They would inevitably have been drowned, had not old +Peggy caught up a long dust-rake that was close at hand--scrambled down +up to her knees in the canal--clawed hold of the struggling group with +the teeth of the rake, and fairly brought the whole to land. Jem was +first up the bank, and helped up his two heroic companions; after which +with no small difficulty, they contrived to haul the body of the +stranger out of the water. Jem at once recognized in him the forlorn +figure of the man who had passed by in the morning, looking so sadly +into the canal, as he walked along. + +It is a fact well known to those who work in the vicinity of these great +dust-heaps, that when the ashes have been warmed by the sun, cats and +kittens that have been taken out of the canal and buried a few inches +beneath the surface, have usually revived; and the same has often +occurred in the case of men. Accordingly the three, without a moment's +hesitation, dragged the body along to the dust-heap, where they made a +deep trench, in which they placed it, covering it all over up to the +neck. + +"There now," ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover +her breath, "he'll lie very comfortable, whether or no." + +"Couldn't lie better," said old Doubleyear, "even if he knew it." + +The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result. + +"I thought I'd a lost him," said Jem, "and myself too; and when I pulled +Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world." + +"Yes," said Doubleyear, "it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had +not come in with the rake. How d'yee feel, old girl; for you've had a +narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled +you in to go with us." + +"The Lord be praised!" fervently ejaculated Peggy, pointing toward the +pallid face that lay surrounded with ashes. A convulsive twitching +passed over the features, the lips trembled, the ashes over the breast +heaved, and a low moaning sound, which might have come from the bottom +of the canal, was heard. Again the moaning sound, and then the eyes +opened, but closed almost immediately. "Poor dear soul!" whispered +Peggy, "how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don't +be afeared. We're only your good angels, like--only poor +cinder-sifters--don'tee be afeared." + +By various kindly attentions and man[oe]uvres such as these poor people +had been accustomed to practice on those who were taken out of the +canal, the unfortunate gentleman was gradually brought to his senses. He +gazed about him, as well he might--now looking in the anxious, though +begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their "weeds" and +dust--and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now +slowly rising. + +"Land of quiet Death!" murmured he, faintly, "or land of Life, as dark +and still--I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am +now in, seems doubtful to my senses." + +"Here we are, poor gentleman," cried Peggy, "here we are, all friends +about you. How did 'ee tumble into the canal?" + +"The Earth, then, once more!" said the stranger, with a deep sigh. "I +know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes--like +Death's kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many +uses." + +"Where do you live?" asked old Doubleyear; "shall we try and take you +home, sir?" + +The stranger shook his head mournfully. All this time, little Jem had +been assiduously employed in rubbing his feet and then his hands; in +doing which the piece of dirty parchment, with the miniature-frame, +dropped out of his breast-pocket. A good thought instantly struck Peggy. + +"Run, Jemmy dear--run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the +pawnbroker's--get something upon it directly, and buy some nice +brandy--and some Godfrey's cordial--and a blanket, Jemmy--and call a +coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as +fast as you can." + +But before Jemmy could attend to this, Mr. Waterhouse, the stranger +whose life they had preserved, raised himself on one elbow, and extended +his hand to the miniature-frame. Directly he looked at it, he raised +himself higher up--turned it about once or twice--then caught up the +piece of parchment; and uttering an ejaculation, which no one could have +distinguished either as of joy or of pain, sank back fainting. + +In brief, this parchment was a portion of the title-deeds he had lost; +and though it did not prove sufficient to enable him to recover his +fortune, it brought his opponent to a composition, which gave him an +annuity for life. Small as this was, he determined that these poor +people, who had so generously saved his life at the risk of their own, +should be sharers in it. Finding that what they most desired was to have +a cottage in the neighborhood of the dust-heap, built large enough for +all three to live together, and keep a cow, Mr. Waterhouse paid a visit +to Manchester-square, where the owner of the property resided. He told +his story, as far as was needful, and proposed to purchase the field in +question. + +The great dust-contractor was much amused, and his daughter--a very +accomplished young lady--was extremely interested. So the matter was +speedily arranged to the satisfaction and pleasure of all parties. The +acquaintance, however, did not end here. Mr. Waterhouse renewed his +visits very frequently, and finally made proposals for the young lady's +hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from +her father. + +"Well, sir," said the latter, "you wish to marry my daughter, and she +wishes to marry you. You are a gentleman and a scholar, but you have no +money. My daughter is what you see, and she has no money. But I have; +and therefore, as she likes you, and I like you, I'll make you both an +offer. I will give my daughter twenty thousand pounds--or you shall have +the dust-heap. Choose!" + +Mr. Waterhouse was puzzled and amused, and referred the matter entirely +to the young lady. But she was for having the money, and no trouble. She +said the dust-heap might be worth much, but they did not understand the +business. "Very well," said her father, laughing, "then there's the +money." + +This was the identical dust-heap, as we know from authentic information, +which was subsequently sold for forty thousand pounds, and was exported +to Russia to rebuild Moscow. + + + + +SKETCHES OF ENGLISH CHARACTER. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + +THE OLD SQUIRE. + + +The old squire, or, in other words, the squire of the old school, is the +eldest born of John Bull; he is the "very moral of him;" as like him as +pea to pea. He has a tolerable share of his good qualities; and as for +his prejudices--oh, they are his meat and drink, and the very clothes +he wears. He is made up of prejudices--he is covered all over with them. +They are the staple of his dreams; they garnish his dishes, they spice +his cup, they enter into his very prayers, and they make his will +altogether. His oaks and elms in his park, and in his woods--they are +sturdy timbers, in troth, and gnarled and knotted to some purpose, for +they have stood for centuries; but what are they to the towering +upshoots of his prejudices? Oh, they are mere wands! If he has not stood +for centuries, his prejudices have; for they have come down from +generation to generation with the family and the estate. They have +ridden, to use another figure, like the Old Man of the Sea, on the +shoulders of his ancestors, and have skipped from those of one ancestor +to those of the next; and there they sit on his own most venerable, +well-fed, comfortable, ancient, and gray-eyed prejudices, as familiar to +their seat as the collar of his coat. He would take cold without them; +to part with them would be the death of him. So! don't go too +near--don't let us alarm them; for, in truth, they have had insults, and +met with impertinences of late years, and have grown fretful and +cantankerous in their old age. Nay, horrid radicals have not hesitated, +in this wicked generation, to aim sundry deadly blows at them; and it +has been all that the old squire has been able to do to protect them. +Then-- + + You need not rub them backwards like a cat, + If you would see them spirt and sparkle up. + +You have only to give one look at them, and they will appear to all in +bristles and fury, like a nest of porcupines. + +The old squire, like his father, is a sincere lover and a most hearty +hater. What does he love? Oh, he loves the country--'tis the only +country on the earth that is worth calling a country; and he loves the +constitution. But don't ask him what it is, unless you want to test the +hardness of his walking-stick; it is the constitution, the finest thing +in the world, and all the better for being, like the Athanasian creed, a +mystery. Of what use is it that the mob should understand it? It is our +glorious constitution--that is enough. Are you not contented to feel how +good it is, without going to peer into its very entrails, and perhaps +ruin it, like an ignorant fellow putting his hand into the works of a +clock? Are you not contented to let the sun shine on you? Do you want to +go up and see what it is made of? Well, then, it is the +constitution--the finest thing in the world; and, good as the country +is, it would be good for nothing without it, no more than a hare would +without stuffing, or a lantern without a candle, or the church without +the steeple or the ring of bells. Well, he loves the constitution, as he +ought to do; for has it not done well for him and his forefathers? And +has it not kept the mob in their places, spite of the French Revolution? +And taken care of the National Debt? And has it not taught us all to +"fear God and honor the king;" and given the family estate to him, the +church to his brother Ned, and put Fred and George into the army and +navy? Could there possibly be a better constitution, if the Whigs could +but let it alone with their Reform Bills? And, therefore, as he most +reasonably loves the dear, old, mysterious, and benevolent constitution +to distraction, and places it in the region of his veneration somewhere +in the seventh heaven itself, so he hates every body and thing that +hates it. + +He hates Frenchmen because he loves his country, and thinks we are +dreadfully degenerated that we do not nowadays find some cause, as the +wisdom of our ancestors did, to pick a quarrel with them, and give them +a good drubbing. Is not all our glory made up of beating the French and +the Dutch? And what is to become of history, and the army and the fleet, +if we go on this way? He does not stop to consider that the army, at +least, thrives as well with peace as war; that it continues to increase; +that it eats, drinks, and sleeps as well, and dresses better, and lives +a great deal more easily and comfortably in peace than in war. But, +then, what is to become of history, and the drubbing of the French? Who +may, however, possibly die of "envy and admiration of our glorious +constitution." + +The old squire loves the laws of England; that is, all the laws that +ever were passed by kings, lords, and commons, especially if they have +been passed some twenty years, and he has had to administer them. The +poor-law and the game-law, the impressment act, the law of +primogeniture, the law of capital punishments; all kind of private acts +for the inclosure of commons; turnpike acts, stamp acts, and acts of all +sorts; he loves and venerates them all, for they are part and parcel of +the statute law of England. As a matter of course, he hates most +religiously all offenders against such acts. The poor are a very good +sort of people; nay, he has a thorough and hereditary liking for the +poor, and they have sundry doles and messes of soup from the Hall, as +they had in his father's time, so long as they go to church, and don't +happen to be asleep there when he is awake himself; and don't come upon +the parish, or send bastards there; so long as they take off their hats +with all due reverence, and open gates when they see him coming. But if +they presume to go to the Methodists' meeting, or to a Radical club, or +complain of the price of bread, which is a grievous sin against the +agricultural interest; or to poach, which is all crimes in one--if they +fall into any of these sins, oh, then, they are poor devils indeed! Then +does the worthy old squire hate all the brood of them most righteously; +for what are they but Atheists, Jacobins, Revolutionists, Chartists, +rogues and vagabonds? With what a frown he scowls on them as he meets +them in one of the narrow old lanes, returning from some camp meeting or +other; how he expects every dark night to hear of ricks being burnt, or +pheasants shot. How does he tremble for the safety of the country while +they are at large; and with what satisfaction does he grant a warrant to +bring them before him; and, as a matter of course, how joyfully, spite +of all pleas and protestations of innocence, does he commit them to the +treadmill, or the county jail, for trial at the quarter sessions. + +He has a particular affection for the quarter sessions, for there he, +and his brethren all put together, make, he thinks, a tolerable +representation of majesty; and thence he has the satisfaction of seeing +all the poachers transported beyond the seas. The county jail and the +house of correction are particular pets of his. He admires even their +architecture, and prides himself especially on the size and massiveness +of the prison. He used to extend his fondness even to the stocks; but +the treadmill, almost the only modern thing which has wrought such a +miracle, has superseded it in his affections, and the ancient stocks now +stand deserted, and half lost in a bed of nettles; but he still looks +with a gracious eye on the parish pound, and returns the pinder's touch +of his hat with a marked attention, looking upon him as one of the most +venerable appendages of antique institutions. + +Of course the old squire loves the church. Why, it is ancient, and that +is enough of itself; but, beside that, all the wisdom of his ancestors +belonged to it. His great-great-uncle was a bishop; his wife's +grandfather was a dean; he has the presentation of the living, which is +now in the hands of his brother Ned; and he has himself all the great +tithes which, in the days of popery, belonged to it. He loves it all the +better, because he thinks that the upstart dissenters want to pull it +down; and he hates all upstarts. And what! Is it not the church of the +queen, and the ministers, and all the nobility, and of all the old +families? It is the only religion for a gentleman, and, therefore, it is +his religion. Would the dissenting minister hob-nob with him as +comfortably over the after-dinner bottle as Ned does, and play a rubber +as comfortably with him, and let him swear a comfortable oath now and +then? 'Tis not to be supposed. Besides, of what family is this +dissenting minister? Where does he spring from? At what university did +he graduate? 'Twon't do for the old squire. No! the clerk, the sexton, +and the very churchwardens of the time being, partake, in his eye, of +the time-tried sanctity of the good old church, and are bound up in the +bundle of his affections. + +These are a few of the old squire's likings and antipathies, which are +just as much part of himself, as the entail is of his inheritance. But +we shall see yet more of them when we come to see more of him and his +abode. The old squire is turned of threescore, and every thing is old +about him. He lives in an old house in the midst of an old park, which +has a very old wall, end gates so old, that though they are made of oak +as hard as iron, they begin to stoop in the shoulders, like the old +gentleman himself and the carpenter, who is an old man too, and has +been watching them forty years in hopes of their tumbling, and gives +them a good lusty bang after him every time he passes through, swears +they must have been made in the days of King Canute. The squire has an +old coach drawn by two and occasionally by four old fat horses, and +driven by a jolly old coachman, in which his old lady and his old maiden +sister ride; for he seldom gets into it himself, thinking it a thing fit +only for women and children, preferring infinitely the back of Jack, his +old roadster. + +If you went to dine with him, you would find him just as you would have +found his father; not a thing has been changed since his days. There is +the great entrance hall, with its cold stone floor, and its fine +tall-backed chairs, and an old walnut cabinet; and on the walls a +quantity of stags' horns, with caps and riding-whips hung on them; and +the pictures of his ancestors, in their antiquated dresses, and slender, +tarnished, antiquated frames. In his drawing-room you will find none of +your new grand pianos and fashionable couches and ottomans; but an old +spinet and a fiddle, another set of those long-legged, tall-backed +chairs, two or three little settees, a good massy table, and a fine +large carved mantle-piece, with bright steel dogs instead of a modern +stove, and logs of oak burning, if it be cold. At table, all his plate +is of the most ancient make, and he drinks toasts and healths in +tankards of ale that is strong enough to make a horse reel, but which he +continually avows is as mild as mother's milk, and wouldn't hurt an +infant. He has an old rosy butler, and loves very old venison, which +fills the whole house with its perfume while roasting; and an old +double-Gloucester cheese, full of jumpers and mites; and after it a +bottle of old port, at which he is often joined by the parson, and +always by a queer, quiet sort of a tall, thin man, in a seedy black +coat, and with a crimson face, bearing testimony to the efficacy of the +squire's port and "mother's milk." + +This man is always to be seen about, and has been these twenty years. He +goes with the squire a-coursing and shooting, and into the woods with +him. He carries his shot-belt and powder-flask, and gives him out his +chargings and his copper caps. He is as often seen about the steward's +house; and he comes in and out of the squire's just as he pleases, +always seating himself in a particular chair near the fire, and pinches +the ears of the dogs, and gives the cat, now and then, a pinch of snuff +as she lies sleeping in a chair; and when the squire's old lady says, +"How _can_ you do so, Mr. Wagstaff?" he only gives a quiet, chuckling +laugh, and says, "Oh, they like it, madam; they like it, you may +depend." That is the longest speech he ever makes, for he seldom does +more than say "yes" and "no" to what is said to him, and still oftener +gives only a quiet smile and a soft of little nasal "hum." The squire +has a vast affection for him, and always walks up to the little chamber +which is allotted to him, once a week, to see that the maid does not +neglect it; though at table he cuts many a sharp joke upon Wagstaff, to +which Wagstaff only returns a smile and a shake of the head, which is +more full of meaning to the squire than a long speech. Such is the old +squire's constant companion. + +But we have not yet done with the squire's antiquities. He has an old +woodman, an old shepherd, an old justice's clerk, and almost all his +farmers are old. He seems to have an antipathy to almost every thing +that is not old. Young men are his aversion; they are such coxcombs, he +says, nowadays. The only exception is a young woman. He always was a +great admirer of the fair sex; though we are not going to rake up the +floating stories of the neighborhood about the gallantries of his youth; +but his lady, who is justly considered to have been as fine a woman as +ever stepped in shoe-leather, is a striking proof of his judgment in +women. Never, however, does his face relax into such pleasantness of +smiles and humorous twinkles of the eye, as when he is in company with +young ladies. He is full of sly compliments and knowing hints about +their lovers, and is universally reckoned among them "a dear old +gentleman." + +When he meets a blooming country damsel crossing the park, or as he +rides along a lane, he is sure to stop and have a word with her. "Aha, +Mary! I know you, there! I can tell you by your mother's eyes and lips +that you've stole away from her. Ay, you're a pretty slut enough, but I +remember your mother. Gad! I don't know whether you are entitled to +carry her slippers after her! But never mind, you're handsome enough; +and I reckon you're going to be married directly. Well, well, I won't +make you blush; so, good-by, Mary, good-by! Father and mother are both +hearty--eh?" + +The routine of the old squire's life may be summed up in a sentence: +hearing cases and granting warrants and licenses, and making out +commitments as justice; going through the woods to look after the +growth, and trimming, and felling of his trees; going out with his +keeper to reconnoitre the state of his covers and preserves; attending +quarter sessions; dining occasionally with the judge on circuit; +attending the county ball and the races; hunting and shooting, dining +and singing a catch or glee with Wagstaff and the parson over his port. +He has a large, dingy room, surrounded with dingy folios, and other +books in vellum bindings, which he calls his library. Here he sits as +justice; and here he receives his farmers on rent-days, and a wonderful +effect it has on their imaginations; for who can think otherwise than +that the squire must be a prodigious scholar, seeing all that array of +big books? And, in fact, the old squire is a great reader in his own +line. He reads the _Times_ daily; and he reads Gwillim's "Heraldry," the +"History of the Landed Gentry," Rapin's "History of England," and all +the works of Fielding, Richardson, and Sterne, whom he declares to be +the greatest writers England ever produced, or ever will produce. + +But the old squire is not without his troubles. In his serious judgment +all the world is degenerating. The nation is running headlong to ruin. +"Lord, how different it was in my time!" is his constant exclamation. +The world is now completely turned topsy-turvy. Here is the Reform Bill, +the New Poor-law, which though it does make sharp work among the rogues +and vagabonds, yet has sorely shorn the authority of magistrates. Here +are the New Game-laws, Repeal of the Corn-laws, and the Navigation-laws; +new books, all trash and nonsense; and these harum-scarum railroads, +cutting up the country and making it dangerous to be riding out any +where. "Just," says he, "as a sober gentleman is riding quietly by the +side of his wood, bang! goes that 'hell-in-harness,' a steam-engine, +past. Up goes the horse, down goes the rider to a souse in the ditch, +and a broken collar bone." + +Then all the world is now running all over the continent, learning all +sorts of Frenchified airs and fashions and notions, and beggaring +themselves into the bargain. He never set foot on the d--d, beggarly, +frog-eating Continent--not he! It was thought enough to live at home, +and eat good roast beef, and sing "God save the King," in his time; but +now a man is looked upon as a mere clown who has not run so far round +the world that he can seldom ever find his way back again to his +estate, but stops short in London, where all the extravagance and +nonsense in creation are concentrated, to help our mad gentry out of +their wits and their money together. The old squire groans here in +earnest; for his daughter, who has married Sir Benjamin Spankitt, and +his son Tom, who has married the Lady Babara Ridemdown, are as mad as +the rest of them. + +Of Tom, the young squire, we shall take a more complete view anon. But +there is another of the old squire's troubles yet to be noticed, and +that is in the shape of an upstart. One of the worst features of the +times is the growth and spread of upstarts. Old families going down, as +well as old customs, and new people, who are nobody, taking their +places. Old estates bought up--not by the old gentry, who are scattering +their money in London, and among all the grinning monsieurs, mynheers, +and signores, on the frogified continent, but by the soap-boilers and +sugar-bakers of London. The country gentry, he avers, have been fools +enough to spend their money in London, and now the people they have +spent it among are coming and buying up all the estates about them. Ask +him, as you ride out with him by the side of some great wood or +venerable park, "What old family lives there?" "Old family!" he +exclaims, with an air of angry astonishment; "old family! Where do you +see old families nowadays? That is Sir Peter Post, the great +horse-racer, who was a stable-boy not twenty years ago; and that great +brick house on the hill there is the seat of one of the great Bearrings, +who have made money enough among the bulls and bears to buy up the +estates of half the fools hereabout. But that is nothing; I can assure +you, men are living in halls and abbeys in these parts, who began their +lives in butchers' shops and cobblers' stalls." + +It might, however, be tolerated that merchants and lawyers, +stock-jobbers, and even sugar-bakers and soap-boilers, should buy up the +old houses; but the most grievous nuisance, and perpetual thorn in the +old squire's side, is Abel Grundy, the son of an old wheelwright, who, +by dint of his father's saving and his own sharpness, has grown into a +man of substance under the squire's own nose. Abel began by buying odds +and ends of lands and scattered cottages, which did not attract the +squire's notice; till at length, a farm being to be sold, which the +squire meant to have, and did not fear any opponent, Abel Grundy bid for +it, and bought it, striking the old steward actually dumb with +astonishment; and then it was found that all the scattered lots which +Grundy had been buying up, lay on one side or other of this farm, and +made a most imposing whole. To make bad worse, Grundy, instead of taking +off his hat when he met the old squire, began now to lift up his own +head very high; built a grand house on the land plump opposite to the +squire's hall-gates; has brought a grand wife--a rich citizen's +daughter; set up a smart carriage; and as the old squire is riding out +on his old horse Jack, with his groom behind him, on a roan pony with a +whitish mane and tail, the said groom having his master's great coat +strapped to his back, as he always has on such occasions, drives past +with a dash and a cool impudence that are most astonishing. + +The only comfort that the old squire has in the case is talking of the +fellow's low origin. "Only to think," says he, "that this fellow's +father hadn't even wood enough to make a wheel-barrow till my family +helped him; and I have seen this scoundrel himself scraping manure in +the high roads, before he went to the village school in the morning, +with his toes peeping out of his shoes, and his shirt hanging like a +rabbit's tail out of his ragged trowsers; and now the puppy talks of 'my +carriage,' and 'my footman,' and says that 'he and _his lady purpose_ to +spend the winter in _the_ town,' meaning London!" + +Wagstaff laughs at the squire's little criticism on Abel Grundy, and +shakes his head; but he can not shake the chagrin out of the old +gentleman's heart. Abel Grundy's upstart greatness will be the death of +the OLD SQUIRE. + + * * * * * + +THE YOUNG SQUIRE. + + By smiling fortune blessed + With large demesnes, hereditary wealth. + SOMERVILLE. + + +The Old Squire and the Young Squire are the antipodes of each other. +They are representatives of two entirely different states of society in +this country; the one, but the vestige of that which has been; the +other, the full and perfect image of that which is. The old squires are +like the last fading and shriveled leaves of autumn that yet hang on +the tree. A few more days will pass; age will send one of his nipping +nights, and down they will twirl, and be swept away into the oblivious +hiding-places of death, to be seen no more. But the young squire is one +of the full-blown blossoms of another summer. He is flaunting in the +sunshine of a state of wealth and luxury, which we, as our fathers in +their days did, fancy can by no possibility be carried many degrees +farther, and yet we see it every day making some new and extraordinary +advance. + +It is obvious that there are many intervening stages of society, among +our country gentry, between the old squire and the young, as there are +intermediate degrees of age. The old squires are those of the completely +last generation, who have outlived their contemporaries, and have made a +dead halt on the ground of their old habits, sympathies, and opinions, +and are resolved to quit none of them for what they call the follies and +new-fangled notions of a younger, and, of course, more degenerate race. +They are continually crying, "Oh, it never was so in my day!" They point +to tea, and stoves in churches, and the universal use of umbrellas, +parasols, cork-soled shoes, warming-pans, and carriages, as +incontestible proofs of the rapidly-increasing effeminacy of mankind. +But between these old veterans and their children, there are the men of +the middle ages, who have, more or less, become corrupted with modern +ways and indulgences; have, more or less, introduced modern furniture, +modern hours, modern education, and tastes, and books; and have, more or +less, fallen into the modern custom of spending a certain part of the +year in London. With these we have nothing whatever to do. The old +squire is the landmark of the ancient state of things, and his son Tom +is the epitome of the new; all between is a mere transition and +evanescent condition. + +Tom Chesselton was duly sent by his father to Eton as a boy, where he +became a most accomplished scholar in cricket, boxing, horses, and dogs, +and made the acquaintance of several lords, who taught him the way of +letting his father's money slip easily through his fingers without +burning them, and engrafted him besides with a fine stock of truly +aristocratic tastes, which will last him his whole life. From Eton he +was duly transferred to Oxford, where he wore his gown and trencher-cap +with a peculiar grace, and gave a classic finish to his taste in horses, +in driving, and in ladies. Having completed his education with great +_clat_, he was destined by his father to a few years' soldiership in +the militia, as being devoid of all danger, and moreover, giving +opportunities for seeing a great deal of the good old substantial +families in different parts of the kingdom. But Tom turned up his nose, +or rather his handsome upper lip, with a most consummate scorn at so +groveling a proposal, and assured his father that nothing but a +commission in the Guards, where several of his noble friends were doing +distinguished honor to their country, by the display of their fine +figures, would suit him. The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders and +was silent, thinking that the six thousand pounds purchase-money would +be quite as well at fifteen per cent. in turnpike shares a little +longer. But Tom, luckily, was not doomed to rusticate long in melancholy +under his patrimonial oaks: his mother's brother, an old bachelor of +immense wealth, died just in time, leaving Tom's sister, Lady Spankitt, +thirty thousand pounds in the funds; and Tom, as heir-at-law, his great +Irish estates. Tom, on the very first vacancy, bought into the Guards, +and was soon marked out by the ladies as one of the most _distingu_ +officers that ever wore a uniform. In truth, Tom was a very handsome +fellow; that he owed to his parents, who, in their day, were as +noble-looking a couple as ever danced at a county-ball, or graced the +balcony of a race-stand. + +Tom soon married; but he did not throw himself away sentimentally on a +mere face; he achieved the hand of the sister of one of his old college +chums, and now brother-officer--the Lady Barbara Ridemdown. An earl's +daughter was something in the world's eye; but such an earl's daughter +as Lady Barbara, was the height of Tom's ambition. She was equally +celebrated for her wit, her beauty, and her large fortune. Tom had won +her from amid the very blaze of popularity and the most splendid offers. +Their united fortunes enabled them to live in the highest style. Lady +Barbara's rank and connections demanded it, and the spirit of our young +squire required it as much. Tom Chesselton disdained to be a whit behind +any of his friends, however wealthy or high titled. His tastes were +purely aristocratic; with him, dress, equipage, and amusements, were +matters of science. He knew, both from a proud instinct and from study, +what was precisely the true _ton_ in every article of dress or equipage, +and the exact etiquette in every situation. But Lady Barbara panted to +visit the Continent, where she had already spent some years, and which +presented so many attractions to her elegant tastes. Tom had elegant +tastes, too, in his way; and to the Continent they went. The old squire +never set his foot on even the coast of Calais: when he has seen it from +Dover, he has only wished that he could have a few hundred tons of +gunpowder, and blow it into the air; but Tom and Lady Barbara have lived +on the Continent for years. + +This was a bitter pill for the old squire. When Tom purchased his +commission in the Guards, and when he opened a house like a palace, on +his wedding with Lady Barbara, the old gentleman felt proud of his son's +figure, and proud of his connections. "Ah," said he, "Tom's a lad of +spirit; he'll sow his wild oats, and come to his senses presently." But +when he fairly embarked for France, with a troop of servants, and a +suite of carriages, like a nobleman, then did the old fellow fairly +curse and swear, and call him all the unnatural and petticoat-pinioned +fools in his vocabulary, and prophesy his bringing his ninepence to a +groat. Tom and Lady Barbara, however, upheld the honor of England all +over the Continent. In Paris, at the baths of Germany, at Vienna, +Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples--every where, they were distinguished by +their fine persons, their fine equipage, their exquisite tastes, and +their splendid entertainments. They were courted and caressed by all the +distinguished, both of their own countrymen and of foreigners. Tom's +horses and equipage were the admiration of the natives. He drove, he +rode, he yachted, to universal admiration; and, meantime, his lady +visited all the galleries and works of art, and received in her house +all the learned and the literary of all countries. There, you always +found artists, poets, travelers, critics, _dilettanti_, and +connoisseurs, of all nations and creeds. + +They have again honored their country with their presence; and who so +much the fashion as they? They are, of course, _au fait_ in every matter +of taste and fashion; on all questions of foreign life, manners, and +opinions, their judgment is the law. Their town-house is in +Eaton-square; and what a house is that! What a paradise of fairy +splendor! what a mine of wealth, in the most superb furniture, in books +in all languages, paintings, statuary, and precious fragments of the +antique, collected out of every classical city and country. If you see a +most exquisitely tasteful carriage, with a most fascinatingly beautiful +lady in it, in the park, amid all the brilliant concourse of the ring, +you may be sure you see the celebrated Lady Barbara Chesselton; and you +can not fail to recognize Tom Chesselton the moment you clap eyes on +him, by his distinguished figure, and the splendid creature on which he +is mounted--to say nothing of the perfection of his groom, and the steed +which he also bestrides. Tom never crosses the back of a horse of less +value than a thousand pounds; and if you want to know really what horses +are, you must go down to his villa at Wimbledon, if you are not lucky +enough to catch a sight of him proceeding to a levee, or driving his +four-in-hand to Ascot or Epsom. All Piccadilly has been seen to stand, +lost in silent admiration, as he has driven his splendid britchzka along +it, with his perfection of a little tiger by his side; and such cattle +as never besides were seen in even harness of such richness and +elegance. Nay, some scores of ambitious young whips became sick of their +envy of his superb gauntlet driving-gloves. + +But, in fact, in Tom's case, as in all others, you have only to know his +companions to know him; and who are they but Chesterfield, Conyngham, +D'Orsay, Eglintoun, my Lord Waterford, and men of similar figure and +reputation. To say that he is well known to all the principal +frequenters of the Carlton Club; that his carriages are of the most +perfect make ever turned out by Windsor; that his harness is only from +Shipley's; and that Stultz has the honor of gracing his person with his +habiliments; is to say that our young squire is one of the most perfect +men of fashion in England. Lady Barbara and himself have a common +ground of elegance of taste, and knowledge of the first principles of +genuine aristocratic life; but they have very different pursuits, +arising from the difference of their genius, and they follow them with +the utmost mutual approbation. + +Lady Barbara is at once the worshiped beauty, the woman of fashion, and +of literature. No one has turned so many heads, by the loveliness of her +person, and the bewitching fascination of her manners, as Lady Barbara. +She is a wit, a poetess, a connoisseur in art; and what can be so +dangerously delightful as all these characters in a fashionable beauty, +and a woman, moreover, of such rank and wealth? She does the honors of +her house to the mutual friends and noble connections of her husband and +herself with a perpetual grace; but she has, besides, her evenings for +the reception of her literary and artistic acquaintance and admirers. +And who, of all the throng of authors, artists, critics, journalists, +connoisseurs, and amateurs, who flock there are not her admirers? Lady +Barbara Chesselton writes travels, novels, novellets, philosophical +reflections, poems, and almost every species of thing which ever has +been written--such is the universality of her knowledge, experience, and +genius: and who does not hasten to be the first to pour out in reviews, +magazines, daily and hebdomadal journals, the earliest and most fervid +words of homage and admiration? Lady Barbara edits an annual, and is a +contributor to the "Keepsake;" and in her kindness, she is sure to find +out all the nice young men about the press; to encourage them by her +smile, and to raise them, by her fascinating conversation and her +brilliant saloons, above those depressing influences of a too sensitive +modesty, which so weighs on the genius of the youth of this age; so that +she sends them away, all heart and soul, in the service of herself and +literature, which are the same thing; and away they go, extemporizing +praises on her ladyship, and spreading them through leaves of all sizes, +to the wondering eyes of readers all the world over. Publishers run with +their unsalable manuscripts, and beg Lady Barbara to have the goodness +to put her name on the title, knowing by golden experience that one +stroke of her pen, like the point of a galvanic wire, will turn all the +dullness of the dead mass into flame. Lady Barbara is not barbarous +enough to refuse so simple and complimentary a request; nay, her +benevolence extends on every hand. Distressed authors, male and female, +who have not her rank, and, therefore, most clearly not her genius, beg +her to take their literary bantlings under her wing; and with a heart, +as full of generous sympathies as her pen is of magic, she writes but +her name on the title as an "Open Sesame!" and lo! the dead become +alive; her genius permeates the whole volume, which that moment puts +forth wings of popularity, and flies into every bookseller's shop and +every circulating library in the kingdom. + +Such is the life of glory and Christian benevolence which Lady Barbara +daily leads, making authors, critics, and publishers all happy together, +by the overflowing radiance of her indefatigable and inexhaustible +genius, though she sometimes slyly laughs to herself, and says, "What a +thing is a title! if it were not for that, would all these people come +to me?" While Tom, who is member of parliament for the little borough of +Dearish, most patriotically discharges his duty by pairing off--visits +the classic grounds of Ascot, Epsom, Newmarket, or Goodwood, or +traverses the moors of Scotland and Ireland in pursuit of grouse. But +once a year they indulge their filial virtues in a visit to the old +squire. The old squire, we are sorry to say, has grown of late years +queer and snappish, and does not look on this visit quite as gratefully +as he should. "If they would but come," he says, "in a quiet way, as I +used to ride over and see my father in his time, why I should be right +glad to see them; but, here they come, like the first regiment of an +invading army, and God help those who are old, and want to be quiet!" + +The old gentleman, moreover, is continually haranguing about Tom's folly +and extravagance. It is his perpetual topic to his wife, and wife's +maiden sister, and Wagstaff. Wagstaff only shakes his head, and says, +"Young blood! young blood!" but Mrs. Chesselton and the maiden sister +say, "Oh! Mr. Chesselton, you don't consider: Tom has great connections, +and he is obliged to keep a certain establishment. Things are different +now to what they were in our time. Tom is universally allowed to be a +very fine man, and Lady Barbara is a very fine woman, and a prodigious +clever woman! and you ought to be proud of them, Chesselton." At which +the old gentleman breaks out, if he be a little elevated over his wine: + + When the Duke of Leeds shall married be + To a fine young lady of high quality, + How happy will that gentlewoman be + In his grace of Leeds good company! + + She shall have all that's fine and fair, + And the best of silk and satin to wear; + And ride in a coach to take the air, + And have a house in St. James's-square. + +Lady Barbara always professes great affection and reverence for the old +gentleman, and sends him many merry and kind compliments and messages; +and sends him, moreover, her new books as soon as they are out, most +magnificently bound; but all won't do. He only says, "If she'd please +me, she'd give up that cursed opera-box. Why, the rent of that +thing--only to sit in and hear Italian women squealing and squalling, +and to see impudent, outlandish baggages kicking up their heels higher +than any decent heads ought to be--the rent, I say, would maintain a +parish rector, or keep half-a-dozen parish schools a-going." As for her +books, that all the world besides are in raptures about, the old squire +turns them over as a dog would a hot dumpling; says nothing but a Bible +ought to be so extravagantly bound; and professes that "the matter may +all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it." Yet, +whenever Lady Barbara is with him, she is sure to talk and smile herself +in about half an hour into his high favor; and he begins to run about to +show her this and that, and calls out every now and then, "Let Lady +Barbara see this, and go to look at that." She can do any thing with +him, except get him to London. "London!" he exclaims; "no; get me to +Bedlam at once! What has a rusty old fellow, like me, to do at London? +If I could find again the jolly set that used to meet, thirty years ago, +at the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, it might do; but London isn't what +London used to be. It's too fine by half for a country squire, and would +drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and +nonsense." + +But the old squire does get pretty well distracted with the annual +visit. Down come driving the young squire and Lady Barbara, with a train +of carriages like a fleet of men-of-war, leading the way with their +traveling-coach and four horses. Up they twirl to the door of old hall. +The old bell rings a thundering peal through the house. Doors fly +open--out come servants--down come the young guests from their +carriages; and while embraces and salutations are going on in the +drawing-room, the hall is fast filling with packages upon packages; +servants are running to and fro along the passages; grooms and carriages +are moving off to the stables without; there is lifting and grunting at +portmanteaus and imperials, as they are borne up-stairs; while ladies' +maids and nursemaids are crying out, "Oh, take care of that trunk!" +"Mind that ban'-box!" "Oh, gracious! that is my lady's dressing-case; it +will be down, and be totally ruined!" Dogs are barking; children crying, +or romping about, and the whole house in the most blessed state of +bustle and confusion. + +For a week the hurly-burly continues; in pour all the great people to +see Tom and Lady Barbara. There are shootings in the mornings, and great +dinner parties in the evenings. Tom and my lady have sent down before +them plenty of hampers of such wines as the old squire neither keeps nor +drinks, and they have brought their plate along with them; and the old +house itself is astonished at the odors of champagne, claret, and hook, +that pervade, and at the glitter of gold and silver in it. The old man +is full of attention and politeness, both to his guests and to their +guests; but he is half worried with the children, and t'other half +worried with so many fine folks; and muddled with drinking things that +he is not used to, and with late hours. Wagstaff has fled--as he always +does on such occasions--to a farm-house on the verge of the estate. The +hall, and the parsonage, and even the gardener's house, are all full of +beds for guests, and servants, and grooms. Presently, the old gentleman, +in his morning rides, sees some of the young bucks shooting the +pheasants in his home-park, where he never allows them to be disturbed, +and comes home in a fume, to hear that the house is turned upside-down +by the host of scarlet-breeched and powdered livery-servants, and that +they have turned all the maids' heads with sweethearting. But, at +length, the day of departure arrives, and all sweep away as suddenly and +rapidly as they came; and the old squire sends off for Wagstaff, and +blesses his stars that what he calls "the annual hurricane," is over. + +But what a change will there be when the old squire is dead! Already +have Tom and Lady Barbara walked over the ground, and planned it. That +horrid fright of an old house, as they call it, will be swept as clean +away as if it had not stood there five hundred years. A grand +Elizabethean pile is already decreed to succeed it. The fashionable +architect will come driving down in his smart Brougham, with all his +plans and papers. A host of mechanics will come speedily after him, by +coach or by wagon: booths will be seen rising all around the old place, +which will vanish away, and its superb successor rise where it stood, +like a magical vision. Already are ponderous cases lying loaded, in +London, with massive mantle-pieces of the finest Italian marble, marble +busts, and heads of old Greek and Roman heroes, genuine burial-urns from +Herculaneum and Pompeii, and vessels of terra-cotta, +gloriously-sculptured vases, and even columns of verde antique--all from +classic Italy--to adorn the walls of this same noble new house. + +But, meantime, spite of the large income of Tom and Lady Barbara, the +old squire has strange suspicions of mortgages, and dealings with Jews. +He has actually inklings of horrid post-obits; and groans as he looks on +his old oaks, as he rides through his woods and parks, foreseeing their +overthrow; nay, he fancies he sees the land-agent among his quiet old +farmers, like a wild-cat in a rabbit warren, startling them out of their +long dream of ease and safety, with news of doubled rents, and notices +to quit, to make way for threshing-machines, winnowing-machines, +corn-crushers, patent ploughs, scufflers, scarifiers, and young men of +more enterprise. And, sure enough, such will be the order of the day the +moment the estate falls to the YOUNG SQUIRE.--_Country Year Book._ + + + + +[From Hogg's Instructor.] + +PRESENCE OF MIND--A FRAGMENT. + +BY THOMAS DE QUINCEY. + + +The Roman _formula_ for summoning an earnest concentration of the +faculties upon any object whatever, that happened to be critically +urgent, was _Hoc age_, "Mind _this_!" or, in other words, do not mind +_that_--_non illud age_. The antithetic formula was "_aliud_ agere," to +mind something alien, or remote from the interest then clamoring for +attention. Our modern military orders of "_Attention!_" and "_Eyes +strait!_" were both included in the "_Hoc age_." In the stern +peremptoriness of this Roman formula we read a picturesque expression of +the Roman character both as to its strength and its weakness--of the +energy which brooked no faltering or delay (for beyond all other races +the Roman was _natus rebus agendis_)--and also of the morbid craving for +action, which was intolerant of any thing but the intensely practical. + +In modern times, it is we of the Anglo-Saxon blood, that is, the British +and the Americans of the United States, who inherit the Roman +temperament with its vices and its fearful advantages of power. In the +ancient Roman these vices appeared more barbarously conspicuous. We, the +countrymen of Lord Bacon and Sir Isaac Newton, and at one time the +leaders of austere thinking, can not be supposed to shrink from the +speculative through any native incapacity for sounding its depths. But +the Roman had a real inaptitude for the speculative: to _him_ nothing +was real that was not practical. He had no metaphysics; he wanted the +metaphysical instinct. There was no school of _native_ Roman philosophy: +the Roman was merely an eclectic or _dilettanti_ picking up the crumbs +which fell from Grecian tables; and even mathematics was so repulsive in +its sublimer aspects to the Roman mind, that the very word mathematics +had in Rome collapsed into another name for the dotages of astrology. +The mathematician was a mere variety of expression for the wizard or the +conjurer. + +From this unfavorable aspect of the Roman intellect it is but justice +that we should turn away to contemplate those situations in which that +same intellect showed itself preternaturally strong. To face a sudden +danger by a corresponding weight of sudden counsel or sudden +evasion--_that_ was a privilege essentially lodged in the Roman mind. +But in every nation some minds much more than others are representative +of the national type: they are normal minds, reflecting, as in a focus, +the characteristics of the race. Thus Louis XIV. has been held to be the +idealized expression of the French character; and among the Romans there +can not be a doubt that the first Csar offers in a rare perfection the +revelation of that peculiar grandeur which belonged to the children of +Romulus. + +What _was_ that grandeur? We do not need, in this place, to attempt its +analysis. One feature will suffice for our purpose. The late celebrated +John Foster, in his essay on decision of character, among the accidents +of life which might serve to strengthen the natural tendencies to such a +character, or to promote its development, rightly insists on +_desertion_. To find itself in solitude, and still more to find itself +thrown upon that state of abandonment by sudden treachery, crushes the +feeble mind, but rouses a terrific reaction of haughty self-assertion in +that order of spirits which matches and measures itself against +difficulty and danger. There is something corresponding to this case of +human treachery in the sudden caprices of fortune. A danger, offering +itself unexpectedly in some momentary change of blind external agencies, +assumes to the feelings the character of a perfidy accomplished by +mysterious powers, and calls forth something of the same resentment, and +in a gladiatorial intellect something of the same spontaneous +resistance. A sword that breaks in the very crisis of a duel, a horse +killed by a flash of lightning in the moment of collision with the +enemy, a bridge carried away by an avalanche at the instant of a +commencing retreat, affect the feelings like dramatic incidents +emanating from a human will. This man they confound and paralyze, that +man they rouse into resistance, as by a personal provocation and insult. +And if it happens that these opposite effects show themselves in cases +wearing a national importance, they raise what would else have been a +mere casualty into the tragic or the epic grandeur of a fatality. The +superb character, for instance, of Csar's intellect throws a colossal +shadow as of predestination over the most trivial incidents of his +career. On the morning of Pharsalia, every man who reads a record of +that mighty event feels[D] by a secret instinct that an earthquake is +approaching which must determine the final distribution of the ground, +and the relations among the whole family of man through a thousand +generations. Precisely the inverse case is realized in some modern +sections of history, where the feebleness or the inertia of the +presiding intellect communicates a character of triviality to events +that otherwise are of paramount historical importance. In Csar's case, +simply through the perfection of his preparations arrayed against all +conceivable contingencies, there is an impression left as of some +incarnate Providence, vailed in a human form, ranging through the ranks +of the legions; while, on the contrary, in the modern cases to which we +allude, a mission, seemingly authorized by inspiration, is suddenly +quenched, like a torch falling into water, by the careless character of +the superintending intellect. Neither case is without its appropriate +interest. The spectacle of a vast historical dependency, pre-organized +by an intellect of unusual grandeur, wears the grace of congruity and +reciprocal proportion. And on the other hand, a series of mighty events +contingent upon the motion this way or that of a frivolous hand, or +suspended on the breath of caprice, suggests the wild and fantastic +disproportions of ordinary life, when the mighty masquerade moves on +forever through successions of the gay and the solemn--of the petty and +the majestic. + +Csar's cast of character owed its impressiveness to the combination +which it offered of moral grandeur and monumental immobility, such as we +see in Marius, with the dazzling intellectual versatility found in the +Gracchi, in Sylla, in Catiline, in Antony. The comprehension and the +absolute perfection of his prescience did not escape the eye of Lucan, +who describes him as--"Nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum." +A fine lambent gleam of his character escapes also in that magnificent +fraction of a line, where he is described as one incapable of learning +the style and sentiments suited to a private interest--"Indocilis +privata loqui." + +There has been a disposition manifested among modern writers to disturb +the traditional characters of Csar and his chief antagonist. +Audaciously to disparage Csar, and without a shadow of any new historic +grounds to exalt his feeble competitor, has been adopted as the best +chance for filling up the mighty gulf between them. Lord Brougham, for +instance, on occasion of a dinner given by the Cinque Ports at Dover to +the Duke of Wellington, vainly attempted to raise our countryman by +unfounded and romantic depreciations of Csar. He alleged that Csar had +contended only with barbarians. Now, _that_ happens to be the literal +truth as regards Pompey. The victories on which his early reputation was +built were won from semi-barbarians--luxurious, it is true, but also +effeminate in a degree never suspected at Rome until the next +generation. The slight but summary contest of Csar with Pharnaces, the +son of Mithridates, dissipated at once the cloud of ignorance in which +Rome had been involved on this subject by the vast distance and the +total want of familiarity with Oriental habits. But Csar's chief +antagonists, those whom Lord Brougham specially indicated, viz., the +Gauls, were _not_ barbarians. As a military people, they were in a stage +of civilization next to that of the Romans. They were quite as much +_aguerris_, hardened and seasoned to war, as the children of Rome. In +certain military habits they were even superior. For purposes of war +four races were then pre-eminent in Europe--viz., the Romans, the +Macedonians, certain select tribes among the mixed population of the +Spanish peninsula, and finally the Gauls. These were all open to the +recruiting parties of Csar; and among them all he had deliberately +assigned his preference to the Gauls. The famous legion, who carried the +_Alauda_ (the lark) upon their helmets, was raised in Gaul from Csar's +private funds. They composed a select and favored division in his army, +and, together with the famous tenth legion, constituted a third part of +his forces--a third numerically on the day of battle, but virtually a +half. Even the rest of Csar's army had been for so long a space +recruited in the Gauls, Transalpine as well as Cisalpine, that at +Pharsalia the bulk of his forces is known to have been Gaulish. There +were more reasons than one for concealing that fact. The policy of Csar +was, to conceal it not less from Rome than from the army itself. But the +truth became known at last to all wary observers. Lord Brougham's +objection to the quality of Csar's enemies falls away at once when it +is collated with the deliberate composition of Csar's own army. Besides +that, Csar's enemies were _not_ in any exclusive sense Gauls. The +German tribes, the Spanish, the Helvetian, the Illyrian, Africans of +every race, and Moors; the islanders of the Mediterranean, and the mixed +populations of Asia, had all been faced by Csar. And if it is alleged +that the forces of Pompey, however superior in numbers, were at +Pharsalia largely composed of an Asiatic rabble, the answer is--that +precisely of such a rabble were the hostile armies composed from which +he had won his laurels. False and windy reputations are sown thickly in +history; but never was there a reputation more thoroughly histrionic +than that of Pompey. The late Dr. Arnold of Rugby, among a million of +other crotchets, did (it is true) make a pet of Pompey; and he was +encouraged in this caprice (which had for its origin the doctor's +_political_[E] animosity to Csar) by one military critic, viz., Sir +William Napier. This distinguished soldier conveyed messages to Dr. +Arnold, warning him against the popular notion, that Pompey was a poor +strategist. Now, had there been any Roman state-paper office, which Sir +William could be supposed to have searched and weighed against the +statements of surviving history, we might, in deference to Sir William's +great experience and talents, have consented to a rehearing of the case. +Unfortunately, no new materials have been discovered; nor is it alleged +that the old ones are capable of being thrown into new combinations, so +as to reverse or to suspend the old adjudications. The judgment of +history stands; and among the records which it involves, none is more +striking than this--that, while Csar and Pompey were equally assaulted +by sudden surprises, the first invariably met the sudden danger (sudden +but never unlooked-for) by counter resources of evasion. He showed a new +front, as often as his situation exposed a new peril. At Pharsalia, +where the cavalry of Pompey was far superior to his own, he anticipated +and was in full readiness for the particular man[oe]uvre by which it was +attempted to make this superiority available against himself. By a new +formation of his troops he foiled the attack, and caused it to recoil +upon the enemy. Had Pompey then no rejoinder ready for meeting this +reply? No. His one arrow being shot, his quiver was exhausted. Without +an effort at parrying any longer, the mighty game was surrendered as +desperate. "Check to the king!" was heard in silent submission; and no +further stratagem was invoked even in silent prayer, but the stratagem +of flight. Yet Csar himself, objects a celebrated doctor (viz., Bishop +Warburton), was reduced by his own rashness at Alexandria to a condition +of peril and embarrassment not less alarming than the condition of +Pompey at Pharsalia. How far this surprise might be reconcilable with +Csar's military credit, is a question yet undecided; but this at least +is certain, that he was equal to the occasion; and, if the surprise was +all but fatal, the evasion was all but miraculous. Many were the sudden +surprises which Csar had to face before and after this--on the shores +of Britain, at Marseilles, at Munda, at Thapsus--from all of which he +issued triumphantly, failing only as to that final one from which he had +in pure nobility of heart announced his determination to shelter himself +under no precautions. + +Such eases of personal danger and escape are exciting to the +imagination, from the disproportion between the interests of an +individual and the interests of a whole nation which for the moment +happen to be concurrent. The death or the escape of Csar, at one +moment, rather than another, would make a difference in the destiny of +many nations. And in kind, though not in degree, the same interest has +frequently attached to the fortunes of a prince or military leader. +Effectually the same dramatic character belongs to any struggle with +sudden danger, though not (like Csar's) successful. That it was _not_ +successful becomes a new reason for pursuing it with interest; since +equally in that result, as in one more triumphant, we read the altered +course by which history is henceforward destined to flow. + +For instance, how much depended--what a weight of history hung in +suspense, upon the evasions, or attempts at evasion, of Charles I. He +was a prince of great ability; and yet it confounds us to observe, with +how little of foresight, or of circumstantial inquiry, either as +regarded things or persons, he entered upon these difficult enterprises +of escape from the vigilance of military guardians. His first escape, +viz., that into the Scottish camp before Newark, was not surrounded with +any circumstances of difficulty. His second escape from Hampton Court +had become a matter of more urgent policy, and was proportionally more +difficult of execution. He was attended on that occasion by two +gentlemen (Berkely and Ashburnham), upon whose qualities of courage and +readiness, and upon whose acquaintance with the accidents, local or +personal, that surrounded their path, all was staked. Yet one of these +gentlemen was always suspected of treachery, and both were imbecile as +regarded that sort of wisdom on which it was possible for a royal person +to rely. Had the questions likely to arise been such as belong to a +masquerading adventure, these gentlemen might have been qualified for +the situation. As it was, they sank in mere distraction under the +responsibilities of the occasion. The king was as yet in safety. At Lord +Southampton's country mansion, he enjoyed the protection of a loyal +family ready to face any risk in his behalf; and his retreat was +entirely concealed. Suddenly this scene changes. The military commander +in the Isle of Wight is acquainted with the king's situation, and +brought into his presence, together with a military guard, though no +effort had been made to exact securities from his honor in behalf of the +king. His single object was evidently to arrest the king. His military +honor, his duty to the parliament, his private interest, all pointed to +the same result, viz., the immediate apprehension of the fugitive +prince. What was there in the opposite scale to set against these +notorious motives? Simply the fact that he was nephew to the king's +favorite chaplain, Dr. Hammond. What rational man, in a case of that +nature, would have relied upon so poor a trifle? Yet even this +inconsiderable bias was much more than balanced by another of the same +kind but in the opposite direction. Colonel Hammond was nephew to the +king's chaplain, but in the meantime he was the husband of Cromwell's +niece; and upon Cromwell privately, and the whole faction of the +Independents politically, he relied for all his hopes of advancement. +The result was, that, from mere inertia of mind and criminal negligence +in his two attendants, the poor king had run right into the custody of +the very jailer whom his enemies would have selected by preference. + +Thus, then, from fear of being made a prisoner Charles had quietly +walked into the military prison of Carisbrook Castle. The very security +of this prison, however, might throw the governor off his guard. Another +escape might be possible; and again an escape was arranged. It reads +like some leaf torn from the records of a lunatic hospital, to hear its +circumstances and the particular point upon which it split. Charles was +to make his exit through a window. This window, however, was fenced by +iron bars; and these bars had been to a certain extent eaten through +with _aqua fortis_. The king had succeeded in pushing his head through, +and upon that result he relied for his escape; for he connected this +trial with the following strange maxim or postulate, viz., that +wheresoever the head could pass, there the whole person could pass. It +needs not to be said, that, in the final experiment, this absurd rule +was found not to hold good. The king stuck fast about the chest and +shoulders, and was extricated with some difficulty. Had it even been +otherwise, the attempt would have failed; for, on looking down from +amidst the iron bars, the king beheld, in the imperfect light, a number +of people who were not among his accomplices. + +Equal in fatuity, almost 150 years later, were the several attempts at +escape concerted on behalf of the French royal family. The abortive +escape to Varennes is now familiarly known to all the world, and +impeaches the good sense of the king himself not less than of his +friends. The arrangements for the falling in with the cavalry escort +could not have been worse managed had they been intrusted to children. +But even the general outline of the scheme, an escape in a collective +family party--father, mother, children, and servants--and the king +himself, whose features were known to millions, not even withdrawing +himself from the public gaze at the stations for changing horses--all +this is calculated to perplex and sadden the pitying reader with the +idea that some supernatural infatuation had bewildered the predestined +victims. Meantime an earlier escape than this to Varennes had been +planned, viz., to Brussels. The preparations for this, which have been +narrated by Madame de Campan, were conducted with a disregard of +concealment even more astounding to people of ordinary good sense. "Do +you really need to escape at all?" would have been the question of many +a lunatic; "if you do, surely you need also to disguise your +preparations for escape." + +But alike the madness, or the providential wisdom, of such attempts +commands our profoundest interest; alike--whether conducted by a Csar +or by the helpless members of families utterly unfitted to act +independently for themselves. These attempts belong to history, and it +is in that relation that they become philosophically so impressive. +Generations through an infinite series are contemplated by us as +silently awaiting the turning of a sentinel round a corner, or the +casual echo of a footstep. Dynasties have trepidated on the chances of a +sudden cry from an infant carried in a basket; and the safety of empires +has been suspended, like the descent of an avalanche, upon the moment +earlier or the moment later of a cough or a sneeze. And, high above all, +ascends solemnly the philosophic truth, that the least things and the +greatest are bound together as elements equally essential of the +mysterious universe. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[D] "Feels by a secret instinct;"--A sentiment of this nature is finely +expressed by Lucan in the passage beginning, "Advenisse diem," &c. The +circumstance by which Lucan chiefly defeats the grandeur and +simplicities of the truth, is, the monstrous numerical exaggeration of +the combatants and the killed at Pharsalia. + +[E] It is very evident that Dr. Arnold could not have understood the +position of politics in Rome, when he allowed himself to make a favorite +of Pompey. The doctor hated aristocrats as he hated the gates of Erebus. +Now Pompey was not only the leader of a most selfish aristocracy, but +also their tool. Secondly, as if this were not bad enough, that section +of the aristocracy to which he had dedicated his services was an odious +oligarchy; and to this oligarchy, again, though nominally its head, he +was in effect the most submissive of tools. Csar, on the other hand, if +a democrat in the sense of working by democratic agencies, was bending +all his efforts to the reconstruction of a new, purer, and enlarged +aristocracy, no longer reduced to the necessity of buying and selling +the people in mere self-defense. The everlasting war of bribery, +operating upon universal poverty, the internal disease of Roman society, +would have been redressed by Csar's measures, and _was_ redressed +according to the degree in which those measures were really brought into +action. New judicatures were wanted, new judicial laws, a new +aristocracy, by slow degrees a new people, and the right of suffrage +exercised within new restrictions--all these things were needed for the +cleansing of Rome; and that Csar would have accomplished this labor of +Hercules was the true cause of his death. The scoundrels of the +oligarchy felt their doom to be approaching. It was the just remark of +Napoleon, that Brutus (but still more, we may say, Cicero), though +falsely accredited as a patriot, was, in fact, the most exclusive and +the most selfish of aristocrats. + + + + +[From Cumming's Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +FEARFUL TRAGEDY--A MAN-EATING LION. + + +On the 29th we arrived at a small village of Bakalahari. These natives +told me that elephants were abundant on the opposite side of the river. +I accordingly resolved to halt here and hunt, and drew my wagons up on +the river's bank, within thirty yards of the water, and about one +hundred yards from the native village. Having outspanned, we at once set +about making for the cattle a kraal of the worst description of +thorn-trees. Of this I had now become very particular, since my severe +loss by lions on the first of this month; and my cattle were, at night, +secured by a strong kraal, which inclosed my two wagons, the horses +being made fast to a trek-tow stretched between the hind wheels of the +wagons. I had yet, however, a fearful lesson to learn as to the nature +and character of the lion, of which I had at one time entertained so +little fear; and on this night a horrible tragedy was to be acted in my +little lonely camp of so very awful and appalling a nature as to make +the blood curdle in our veins. I worked till near sundown at one side of +the kraal with Hendric, my first wagon-driver--I cutting down the trees +with my ax, and he dragging them to the kraal. When the kraal for the +cattle was finished, I turned my attention to making a pot of +barley-broth, and lighted a fire between the wagons and the water, close +on the river's bank, under a dense grove of shady trees, making no sort +of kraal around our sitting-place for the evening. + +The Hottentots, without any reason, made their fire about fifty yards +from mine; they, according to their usual custom, being satisfied with +the shelter of a large dense bush. The evening passed away cheerfully. +Soon after it was dark we heard elephants breaking the trees in the +forest across the river, and once or twice I strode away into the +darkness some distance from the fireside to stand and listen to them. I +little, at that moment, deemed of the imminent peril to which I was +exposing my life, nor thought that a bloodthirsty man-eater lion was +crouching near, and only watching his opportunity to spring into the +kraal, and consign one of us to a most horrible death. About three hours +after the sun went down I called to my men to come and take their coffee +and supper, which was ready for them at my fire; and after supper three +of them returned before their comrades to their own fireside, and lay +down; these were John Stofolus, Hendric, and Ruyter. In a few minutes an +ox came out by the gate of the kraal and walked round the back of it. +Hendric got up and drove him in again, and then went back to his +fireside and lay down. Hendric and Ruyter lay on one side of the fire +under one blanket, and John Stofolus lay on the other. At this moment I +was sitting taking some barley-broth; our fire was very small, and the +night was pitch-dark and windy. Owing to our proximity to the native +village the wood was very scarce, the Bakalahari having burned it all in +their fires. + +Suddenly the appalling and murderous voice of an angry, bloodthirsty +lion burst upon my ear within a few yards of us, followed by the +shrieking of the Hottentots. Again and again the murderous roar of +attack was repeated. We heard John and Ruyter shriek "The lion! the +lion!" still, for a few moments, we thought he was but chasing one of +the dogs round the kraal; but, next instant, John Stofolus rushed into +the midst of us almost speechless with fear and terror, his eyes +bursting from their sockets, and shrieked out, "The lion! the lion! He +has got Hendric; he dragged him away from the fire beside me. I struck +him with the burning brands upon his head, but he would not let go his +hold. Hendric is dead! Oh God! Hendric is dead! Let us take fire and +seek him." The rest of my people rushed about, shrieking and yelling as +if they were mad. I was at once angry with them for their folly, and +told them that if they did not stand still and keep quiet the lion would +have another of us; and that very likely there was a troop of them. I +ordered the dogs, which were nearly all fast, to be made loose, and the +fire to be increased as far as could be. I then shouted Hendric's name, +but all was still. I told my men that Hendric was dead, and that a +regiment of soldiers could not now help him, and, hunting my dogs +forward, I had every thing brought within the cattle-kraal, when we +lighted our fire and closed the entrance as well as we could. + +My terrified people sat round the fire with guns in their hands till the +day broke, still fancying that every moment the lion would return and +spring again into the midst of us. When the dogs were first let go, the +stupid brutes, as dogs often prove when most required, instead of going +at the lion, rushed fiercely on one another, and fought desperately for +some minutes. After this they got his wind, and, going at him, disclosed +to us his position: they kept up a continued barking until the day +dawned, the lion occasionally springing after them and driving them in +upon the kraal. The horrible monster lay all night within forty yards of +us, consuming the wretched man whom he had chosen for his prey. He had +dragged him into a little hollow at the back of the thick bush beside +which the fire was kindled, and there he remained till the day dawned, +careless of our proximity. + +It appeared that when the unfortunate Hendric rose to drive in the ox, +the lion had watched him to his fireside, and he had scarcely laid down +when the brute sprang upon him and Ruyter (for both lay under one +blanket), with his appalling, murderous roar, and, roaring as he lay, +grappled him with his fearful claws, and kept biting him on the breast +and shoulder, all the while feeling for his neck; having got hold of +which, he at once dragged him away backward round the bush into the +dense shade. + +As the lion lay upon the unfortunate man, he faintly cried, "Help me, +help me! Oh God! men, help me!" After which the fearful beast got a hold +of his neck, and then all was still, except that his comrades heard the +bones of his neck cracking between the teeth of the lion. John Stofolus +had lain with his back to the fire on the opposite side, and on hearing +the lion he sprang up, and, seizing a large flaming brand, had belabored +him on the head with the burning wood; but the brute did not take any +notice of him. The Bushman had a narrow escape; he was not altogether +scatheless, the lion having inflicted two gashes in his seat with his +claws. + +The next morning, just as the day began to dawn, we heard the lion +dragging something up the river side, under cover of the bank. We drove +the cattle out of the kraal, and then proceeded to inspect the scene of +the night's awful tragedy. In the hollow, where the lion had lain +consuming his prey, we found one leg of the unfortunate Hendric, bitten +off below the knee, the shoe still on his foot; the grass and bushes +were all stained with his blood, and fragments of his pea-coat lay +around. Poor Hendric! I knew the fragments of that old coat, and had +often marked them hanging in the dense covers where the elephant had +charged after my unfortunate after-rider. Hendric was by far the best +man I had about my wagons, of a most cheerful disposition, a first-rate +wagon-driver, fearless in the field, ever active, willing, and obliging: +his loss to us all was very serious. I felt confounded and utterly sick +in my heart; I could not remain at the wagons, so I resolved to go after +elephants to divert my mind. I had that morning heard them breaking the +trees on the opposite side of the river. I accordingly told the natives +of the village of my intentions, and having ordered my people to devote +the day to fortifying the kraal, started with Piet and Ruyter as my +after-riders. It was a very cool day. We crossed the river, and at once +took up the fresh spoor of a troop of bull elephants. These bulls +unfortunately joined a troop of cows, and when we came on them the dogs +attacked the cows, and the bulls were off in a moment, before we could +even see them. One remarkably fine old cow charged the dogs. I hunted +this cow, and finished her with two shots from the saddle. Being anxious +to return to my people before night, I did not attempt to follow the +troop. My followers were not a little gratified to see me returning, for +terror had taken hold of their minds, and they expected that the lion +would return, and, emboldened by the success of the preceding night, +would prove still more daring in his attack. The lion would most +certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. My health had +been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but I was, +of course, still very weak. It would still be two hours before the sun +would set, and, feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able for further +work, I ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in search of the +lion. + +I took John and Carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the natives +followed up the spoor and led the dogs. The lion had dragged the remains +of poor Hendric along a native foot-path that led up the river side. We +found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and at last the mangled +coat itself. About six hundred yards from our camp a dry river's course +joined the Limpopo. At this spot was much shade, cover, and heaps of dry +reeds and trees deposited by the Limpopo in some great flood. The lion +had left the foot-path and entered this secluded spot. I at once felt +convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the natives to make loose +the dogs. These walked suspiciously forward on the spoor, and next +minute began to spring about, barking angrily, with all their hair +bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry reeds immediately +followed--it was the lion bounding away. + +Several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing +continually backward and springing aloft to obtain a view. I now pressed +forward and urged them on; old Argyll and Bles took up his spoor in +gallant style, and led on the other dogs. Then commenced a short but +lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small +satisfaction that I could obtain to answer for the horrors of the +preceding evening. The lion held up the river's bank for a short +distance, and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best he +could find, but nevertheless open. Here, in two minutes, the dogs were +up with him, and he turned and stood at bay. As I approached, he stood, +his horrid head right to me, with open jaws, growling fiercely, his tail +waving from side to side. + +On beholding him my blood boiled with rage. I wished that I could take +him alive and torture him, and, setting my teeth, I dashed my steed +forward within thirty yards of him and shouted, "_Your_ time is up, old +fellow." I halted my horse, and, placing my rifle to my shoulder, waited +for a broadside. This the next moment he exposed, when I sent a bullet +through his shoulder and dropped him on the spot. He rose, however, +again, when I finished him with a second in the breast. The Bakalahari +now came up in wonder and delight. I ordered John to cut off his head +and forepaws and bring them to the wagons, and, mounting my horse, +galloped home, having been absent about fifteen minutes. When the +Bakalahari women heard that the man-eater was dead, they all commenced +dancing about with joy, calling me _their father_. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN CHARNWOOD FOREST. + + +One fine, blustering, autumn day, a quiet and venerable-looking old +gentleman might be seen, with stick in hand, taking his way through the +streets of Leicester. If any one had followed him, they would have +found him directing his steps toward that side of the town which leads +to Charnwood. The old gentleman, who was a Quaker, took his way +leisurely, but thoughtfully, stopping every now and then to see what the +farmers' men were about, who were plowing up the stubbles to prepare for +another year's crop. He paused, also, at this and that farm-house, +evidently having a pleasure in the sight of good fat cattle, and in the +flocks of poultry--fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys, busy about the +barn-door, where the sound of the flail, or the swipple, as they there +term it, was already heard busily knocking out the corn of the last +bountiful harvest. Our old friend--a Friend--for though you, dear +reader, do not know him, he was both at the time we speak of--our old +friend, again trudging on, would pause on the brow of a hill, at a +stile, or on some rustic bridge, casting its little obliging arch over a +brooklet, and inhale the fresh autumnal air; and after looking round +him, nod to himself, as if to say, "Ay, all good, all beautiful!" and so +he went on again. But it would not be long before he would be arrested +again by clusters of rich, jetty blackberries, hanging from some old +hawthorn hedge; or by clusters of nuts, hanging by the wayside, through +the copse. In all these natural beauties our old wayfarer seemed to have +the enjoyment of a child. Blackberries went into his mouth, and nuts +into his pockets; and so, with a quiet, inquiring, and thoughtful, yet +thoughtfully cheerful look, the good old man went on. + +He seemed bound for a long walk, and yet to be in no hurry. In one place +he stopped to talk to a very old laborer, who was clearing out a ditch; +and if you had been near, you would have heard that their discourse was +of the past days, and the changes in that part of the country, which the +old laborer thought were very much for the worse. And worse they were +for him: for formerly he was young and full of life; and now he was old +and nearly empty of life. Then he was buoyant, sang songs, made love, +went to wakes and merry-makings; now his wooing days, and his marrying +days, and his married days were over. His good old dame, who in those +young, buxom days was a round-faced, rosy, plump, and light-hearted +damsel, was dead, and his children were married, and had enough to do. +In those days, the poor fellow was strong and lusty, had no fear and no +care; in these, he was weak and tottering; had been pulled and harassed +a thousand ways; and was left, as he said, like an old dry kex--_i.e._ a +hemlock or cow-parsnip stalk, hollow and dry, to be knocked down and +trodden into the dust some day. + +Yes, sure enough, those past days _were_ much better days than these +days were to him. No comparison. But Mr. John Basford, our old wanderer, +was taking a more cheerful view of things, and telling the nearly +worn-out laborer, that when the night came there followed morning, and +that the next would be a heavenly morning, shining on hills of glory, +on waters of life, on cities of the blest, where no sun rose, and no sun +set; and where every joyful creature of joyful youth, who had been dear +to him, and true to him and God, would again meet him, and make times +such as should cause songs of praise to spring out of his heart, just as +flowers spring out of a vernal tree in the rekindled warmth of the sun. + +The old laborer leaned reverently on his spade as the worthy man talked +to him. His gray locks, uncovered at his labor by any hat, were tossed +in the autumn wind. His dim eye was fixed on the distant sky, that +rolled its dark masses of clouds on the gale, and the deep wrinkles of +his pale and feeble temples seemed to grow deeper at the thoughts +passing within him. He was listening as to a sermon, which brought +together his youth and his age; his past and his future; and there were +verified on that spot words which Jesus Christ spoke nearly two thousand +years ago--"Wherever two or three are met together in my name, there am +I in the midst of them." + +He was in the midst of the two only. There was a temple there in those +open fields, sanctified by two pious hearts, which no ringing of bells, +no sound of solemn organ, nor voice of congregated prayers, nor any +preacher but the ever-present and invisible One, who there and then +fulfilled His promise and was gracious, could have made more holy. + +Our old friend again turned to set forward; he shook the old laborer +kindly by the hand, and there was a gaze of astonishment in the old +man's face--the stranger had not only cheered him by his words, but left +something to cheer him when he was gone. + +The Friend now went on with a more determined step. He skirted the +memorable park of Bradgate, famous for the abode of Lady Jane Grey, and +the visit of her schoolmaster, Roger Ascham. He went on into a region of +woods and hills. At some seven or eight miles from Leicester, he drew +near a solitary farm-house, within the ancient limits of the forest of +Charnwood. It was certainly a lonely place amid the woodlands and the +wild autumn fields. Evening was fast dropping down; and as the shade of +night fell on the scene, the wind tossed more rushingly the boughs of +the thick trees, and roared down the rocky valley. John Basford went up +to the farm-house, however, as if that was the object of his journey, +and a woman opening it at his knock, he soon disappeared within. + +Now our old friend was a perfect stranger here; had never been here +before; had no acquaintance nor actual business with the inhabitants, +though any one watching his progress hither would have been quite +satisfied that he was not wandering without an object. But he merely +stated that he was somewhat fatigued with his walk from the town, and +requested leave to rest awhile. In such a place, such a request is +readily, and even gladly granted. + +There was a cheerful fire burning on a bright, clean hearth. The kettle +was singing on the hob for tea, and the contrast of the in-door comfort +was sensibly heightened by the wild gloom without. The farmer's wife, +who had admitted the stranger, soon went out, and called her husband +from the fold-yard. He was a plain, hearty sort of man; gave our friend +a hearty shake of the hand, sate down, and began to converse. A little +time seemed to establish a friendly interest between the stranger and +the farmer and his wife. John Basford asked whether they would allow him +to smoke a pipe, which was not only readily accorded, but the farmer +joined him. They smoked and talked alternately of the country and the +town, Leicester being the farmer's market, and as familiar to him as his +own neighborhood. He soon came to know, too, who his guest was, and +expressed much pleasure in the visit. Tea was carried into the parlor, +and thither they all adjourned, for now the farming men were coming into +the kitchen, where they sate for the evening. + +Tea over, the two gentlemen again had a pipe, and the conversation +wandered over a multitude of things and people known to both. + +But the night was come down pitch dark, wild, and windy, and old John +Basford had to return to Leicester. + +"To Leicester!" exclaimed at once man and wife; "to Leicester!" No such +thing. He must stay where he was--where could he be better? + +John Basford confessed that that was true; he had great pleasure in +conversing with them; but then, was it not an unwarrantable liberty to +come to a stranger's house, and make thus free? + +"Not in the least," the farmer replied; "the freer the better!" + +The matter thus was settled, and the evening wore on; but in the course +of the evening, the guest, whose simple manner, strong sense, and deeply +pious feeling, had made a most favorable impression on his entertainers, +hinted that he had heard some strange rumors regarding this house, and +that, in truth, had been the cause which had attracted him thither. He +had heard, in fact, that a particular chamber in this house was haunted; +and he had for a long time felt a growing desire to pass a night in it. +He now begged this favor might be granted him. + +As he had opened this subject, an evident cloud, and something of an +unpleasant surprise, had fallen on the countenances of both man and +wife. It deepened as he proceeded; the farmer had withdrawn his pipe +from his mouth, and laid it on the table; and the woman had risen, and +looked uneasily at their guest. The moment that he uttered the wish to +sleep in the haunted room, both exclaimed in the same instant against +it. + +"No, never!" they exclaimed; "never, on any consideration! They had made +a firm resolve on that point, which nothing would induce them to break +through." + +The guest expressed himself disappointed, but did not press the matter +further at the moment. He contented himself with turning the +conversation quietly upon this subject, and after a while found the +farmer and his wife confirm to him every thing that he had heard. Once +more then, and as incidentally, he expressed his regret that he could +not gratify the curiosity which had brought him so far; and, before the +time for retiring arrived, again ventured to express how much what he +had now heard had increased his previous desire to pass a night in that +room. He did not profess to believe himself invulnerable to fears of +such a kind, but was curious to convince himself of the actual existence +of spiritual agency of this character. + +The farmer and his wife steadily refused. They declared that others who +had come with the same wish, and had been allowed to gratify it, had +suffered such terrors as had made their after-lives miserable. The last +of these guests was a clergyman, who received such a fright that he +sprang from his bed at midnight, had descended, gone into the stable, +and saddling his horse, had ridden away at full speed. Those things had +caused them to refuse, and that firmly, any fresh experiment of the +kind. + +The spirit visitation was described to be generally this: At midnight, +the stranger sleeping in that room would hear the latch of the door +raised, and would in the dark perceive a light step enter, and, as with +a stealthy tread, cross the room, and approach the foot of the bed. The +curtains would be agitated, and something would be perceived mounted on +the bed, and proceeding up it, just upon the body of the person in it. +The supernatural visitant would then stretch itself full length on the +person of the agitated guest, and the next moment he would feel an +oppression at his chest, as of a nightmare, and something extremely cold +would touch his face. + +At this crisis, the terrified guest would usually utter a fearful +shriek, and often go into a swoon. The whole family would be roused from +their beds by the alarm; but on no occasion had any traces of the cause +of terror been found, though the house, on such occasions, had been +diligently and thoroughly searched. The annoying visit was described as +being by no means uniform. Sometimes it would not take place for a very +long time, so that they would begin to hope that there would be no more +of it; but it would, when least expected, occur again. Few people of +late years, however, had ventured to sleep in that room, and never since +the aforementioned clergyman was so terribly alarmed, about two years +ago, had it once been occupied. + +"Then," said John Basford, "it is probable that the annoyance is done +with forever. If the troublesome visitant was still occasionally present +it would, no doubt, take care to manifest itself in some mode or place. +It was necessary to test the matter to see whether this particular room +was still subject to so strange a phenomenon." + +This seemed to have an effect on the farmer and his wife. The old man +urged his suit all the more earnestly, and, after further show of +extreme reluctance on the part of his entertainers, finally prevailed. + +The consent once being given, the farmer's wife retired to make the +necessary arrangements. Our friend heard sundry goings to and fro; but +at length it was announced to him that all was ready; the farmer and his +wife both repeating that they would be much better pleased if Mr. +Basford would be pleased to sleep in some other room. The old man, +however, remained firm to his purpose; he was shown to his chamber, and +the maid who led the way stood at some distance from the denoted door, +and pointing to it, bade him good night, and hurried away. + +Mr. Basford found himself alone in the haunted room, he looked round and +discovered nothing that should make it differ from any other good and +comfortable chamber, or that should give to some invisible agent so +singular a propensity to disturb any innocent mortal that nocturnated in +it. Whether he felt any nervous terrors, we know not; but as he was come +to see all that would or could occur there, he kept himself most +vigilantly awake. He lay down in a very good feather bed, extinguished +his light, and waited in patience. Time and tide, as they will wait for +no man, went on. All sounds of life ceased in the house; nothing could +be heard but the rushing wind without, and the bark of the yard-dog +occasionally amid the laughing blast. Midnight came, and found John +Basford wide-awake and watchfully expectant. Nothing stirred, but he lay +still on the watch. At length--was it so? Did he hear a rustling +movement, as it were, near his door, or was it his excited fancy? He +raised his head from his pillow, and listened intensely. Hush! there is +something!--no!--it was his contagious mind ready to hear and see--what? +There was an actual sound of the latch! He could hear it raised! He +could not be mistaken. There was a sound as if his door was cautiously +opened. List! it was true. There were soft, stealthy footsteps on the +carpet; they came directly toward the bed; they paused at its foot; the +curtains were agitated; there were steps on the bed; something +crept--did not the heart and the very flesh of the rash old man now +creep too?--and upon him sank a palpable form, palpable from its +pressure, for the night was dark as an oven. There was a heavy weight on +his chest, and in the same instant something almost icy cold touched his +face. + +With a sudden, convulsive action, the old man suddenly flung up his +arms, clutched at the terrible object which thus oppressed him, and +shouted with a loud cry, + +"I have got him! I have got him!" + +There was a sound as of a deep growl, a vehement struggle, but John +Basford held fast his hold, and felt that he had something within it +huge, shaggy, and powerful. Once more he raised his voice loud enough to +have roused the whole house; but it seemed no voice of terror, but one +of triumph and satisfaction. In the next instant, the farmer rushed into +the room with a light in his hand, and revealed to John Basford that he +held in his arms the struggling form of a huge Newfoundland dog! + +"Let him go, sir, in God's name!" exclaimed the farmer, on whose brow +drops of real anguish stood, and glistened in the light of the candle. +"Down stairs, Csar!" and the dog, released from the hold of the Quaker, +departed as if much ashamed. + +In the same instant, the farmer and his wife, who now also came in +dressed, and evidently never having been to bed, were on their knees by +the bedside. + +"You know it all, sir," said the farmer; "you see through it. You were +too deep and strong-minded to be imposed on. We were, therefore, afraid +of this when you asked to sleep in this room. Promise us now, that while +we live you will never reveal what you know?" + +They then related to him, that this house and chamber had never been +haunted by any other than this dog, which had been trained to play the +part. That, for generations, their family had lived on this farm; but +some years ago, their landlord having suddenly raised their rent to an +amount that they felt they could not give, they were compelled to think +of quitting the farm. This was to them an insuperable source of grief. +It was the place that all their lives and memories were bound up with. +They were extremely cast down. Suddenly it occurred to them to give an +ill name to the house. They hit on this scheme, and, having practiced it +well, did not long want an opportunity of trying it. It had succeeded +beyond their expectations. The fears of their guests were found to be of +a force which completely blinded them to any discovery of the truth. +There had been occasions where they thought some clumsy accident must +have stripped away the delusion; but no! there seemed a thick vail of +blindness, a fascination of terror cast over the strongest minds, which +nothing could pierce through. Case after case occurred; and the house +and farm acquired such a character, that no money or consideration of +any kind would have induced a fresh tenant to live there. The old +tenants continued at their old rent; and the comfortable ghost stretched +himself every night in a capacious kennel, without any need of +disturbing his slumbers by calls to disturb those of the guests of the +haunted chamber. + +Having made this revelation, the farmer and his wife again implored +their guest to preserve their secret. + +He hesitated. + +"Nay," said he, "I think it would not be right to do that. That would be +to make myself a party to a public deception. It would be a kind of +fraud on the world and the landlord. It would serve to keep up those +superstitious terrors which should be as speedily as possible +dissipated." + +The farmer was in agony. He rose and strode to and fro in the room. His +countenance grew red and wrathful. He cast dark glances at his guest, +whom his wife continued to implore, and who sate silent, and, as it +were, lost in reflection. + +"And do you think it a right thing, sir," said the farmer, "thus to +force yourself into a stranger's house and family, and, in spite of the +strongest wishes expressed to the contrary, into his very chambers, and +that only to do him a mischief? Is that your religion, sir? I thought +you had something better in you than that. Am I now to think your +mildness and piety were only so much hypocrisy put on to ruin me?" + +"Nay, friend, I don't want to ruin thee," said the Quaker. + +"But ruin me you will, though, if you publish this discovery. Out I must +turn, and be the laughing-stock of the whole country to boot. Now, if +that is what you mean, say so, and I shall know what sort of a man you +are. Let me know at once whether you are an honest man or a cockatrice?" + +"My friend," said the Quaker, "canst thou call thyself an honest man, in +practicing this deception for all these years, and depriving thy +landlord of the rent he would otherwise have got from another? And dost +thou think it would be honest in me to assist in the continuance of this +fraud?" + +"I rob the landlord of nothing," replied the farmer. "I pay a good, fair +rent; but I don't want to quit the old spot. And if you had not thrust +yourself into this affair, you would have had nothing to lay on your +conscience concerning it. I must, let me tell you, look on it as a piece +of unwarrantable impertinence to come thus to my house and be kindly +treated only to turn Judas against me." + +The word Judas seemed to hit the Friend a great blow. + +"A Judas!" + +"Yes--a Judas! a real Judas!" exclaimed the wife. "Who could have +thought it!" + +"Nay, nay," said the old man. "I am no Judas. It is true, I forced +myself into it; and if you pay the landlord an honest rent, why, I don't +know that it is any business of mine--at least while you live." + +"That is all we want," replied the farmer, his countenance changing, and +again flinging himself by his wife on his knees by the bed. "Promise us +never to reveal it while we live, and we shall be quite satisfied. We +have no children, and when we go, those may come to th' old spot who +will." + +"Promise me never to practice this trick again," said John Basford. + +"We promise faithfully," rejoined both farmer and wife. + +"Then I promise too," said the Friend, "that not a whisper of what has +passed here shall pass my lips during your lifetime." + +With warmest expressions of thanks, the farmer and his wife withdrew; +and John Basford, having cleared the chamber of its mystery, lay down +and passed one of the sweetest nights he ever enjoyed. + +The farmer and his wife lived a good many years after this, but they +both died before Mr. Basford; and after their death, he related to his +friends the facts which are here detailed. He, too, has passed, years +ago, to his longer night in the grave, and to the clearing up of greater +mysteries than that of--the Haunted House of Charnwood Forest. + + + + +[From Fraser's Magazine.] + +LEDRU ROLLIN--BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. + + +Ledru Rollin is now in his forty-fourth or forty-fifth year, having been +born in 1806 or 1807. He is the grandson of the famous _Prestidigateur_, +or Conjurer Comus, who, about four or five-and-forty years ago, was in +the acme of his fame. During the Consulate, and a considerable portion +of the Empire, Comus traveled from one department of France to the +other, and is even known to have extended his journeys beyond the Rhine +and the Moselle on one side, and beyond the Rhne and Garonne on the +other. Of all the conjurors of his day he was the most famous and the +most successful, always, of course, excepting that Corsican conjuror who +ruled for so many years the destinies of France. From those who have +seen that famous trickster, we have learned that the Charleses, the +Alexandres, even the Robert-Houdins, were children compared with the +magical wonder-worker of the past generation. The fame of Comus was +enormous, and his gains proportionate; and when he had shuffled off this +mortal coil it was found he had left to his descendants a very +ample--indeed, for France a very large fortune. Of the descendants in a +right line, his grandson, Ledru Rollin, was his favorite, and to him the +old man left the bulk of his fortune, which, during the minority of +Ledru Rollin, grew to a sum amounting to nearly, if not fully, 4000 per +annum of our money. + +The scholastic education of the young man who was to inherit this +considerable fortune, was nearly completed during the reign of Louis +XVIII., and shortly after Charles X. ascended the throne _il commenait + faire sur droit_, as they phrase it in the _pays Latin_. Neither +during the reign of Louis XVIII., nor indeed now, unless in the exact +and physical sciences, does Paris afford a very solid and substantial +education. Though the Roman poets and historians are tolerably well +studied and taught, yet little attention is paid to Greek literature. +The physical and exact sciences are unquestionably admirably taught at +the Polytechnique and other schools; but neither at the College of St. +Barbe, nor of Henry IV., can a pupil be so well grounded in the +rudiments and humanities as in our grammar and public schools. A +studious, painstaking, and docile youth, will, no doubt, learn a great +deal, no matter where he has been placed in pupilage; but we have heard +from a contemporary of M. Rollin, that he was not particularly +distinguished either for his industry or his docility in early life. The +earliest days of the reign of Charles X. saw M. Ledru Rollin an +_tudiant en droit_ in Paris. Though the schools of law had been +re-established during the Consulate pretty much after the fashion in +which they existed in the time of Louis XIV., yet the application of the +_alumni_ was fitful and desultory, and perhaps there were no two classes +in France, at the commencement of 1825, who were more imbued with the +Voltarian philosophy, and the doctrines and principles of Rosseau, than +the _lves_ of the schools of law and medicine. + +Under a king so skeptical and voluptuous, so much of a _philosophe_ and +_pyrrhonste_, as Louis XVIII., such tendencies were likely to spread +themselves through all ranks of society--to permeate from the very +highest to the very lowest classes; and not all the lately acquired +asceticism of the monarch, his successor, nor all the efforts of the +Jesuits, could restrain or control the tendencies of the _tudiants en +droit_. What the law students were antecedently and subsequent to 1825, +we know from the _Physiologic de l'Homme de Loi_; and it is not to be +supposed that M. Ledru Rollin, with more ample pecuniary means at +command, very much differed from his fellows. After undergoing a three +years' course of study, M. Rollin obtained a diploma as a _licenci en +droit_, and commenced his career as _stagiare_ somewhere about the end +of 1826, or the beginning of 1827. Toward the close of 1829, or in the +first months of 1830, he was, we believe, placed on the roll of +advocates: so that he was called to the bar, or, as they say in France, +received an advocate, in his twenty-second or twenty-third year. + +The first years of an advocate, even in France, are generally passed in +as enforced an idleness as in England. Clients come not to consult the +greenhorn of the last term; nor does any _avou_ among our neighbors, +any more than any attorney among ourselves, fancy that an old head is to +be found on young shoulders. The years 1830 and 1831 were not marked by +any oratorical effort of the author of the _Decline of England_; nor was +it till 1832 that, being then one of the youngest of the bar of Paris, +he prepared and signed an opinion against the placing of Paris in a +state of siege consequent on the insurrections of June. Two years after +he prepared a memoir, or _factum_, on the affair of the Rue Transonian, +and defended Dupoty, accused of _complicit morale_, a monstrous +doctrine, invented by the Attorney-general Hebert. From 1834 to 1841 he +appeared as counsel in nearly all the cases of _meute_ or conspiracy +where the individuals prosecuted were Republicans or +_quasi_-Republicans. Meanwhile, he had become the proprietor and +_rdacteur en chief_ of the _Rforme_ newspaper, a political journal of +an ultra-liberal--indeed, of a republican-complexion, which was then +called of extreme opinions, as he had previously been editor of a legal +newspaper called _Journal du Palais. La Rforme_ had been originally +conducted by Godefroy Cavaignac, the brother of the general, who +continued editor till the period of the fatal illness which preceded his +death. The defense of Dupoty, tried and sentenced under the ministry of +Thiers to five years' imprisonment, as a regicide, because a letter was +found open in the letter-box of the paper of which he was editor, +addressed to him by a man said to be implicated in the conspiracy of +Quenisset, naturally brought M. Rollin into contact with many of the +writers in _La Rforme_; and these persons, among others Guinard Arago, +Etienne Arago, and Flocon, induced him to embark some portion of his +fortune in the paper. From one step he was led on to another, and +ultimately became one of the chief, indeed, is not the chief proprietor. +The speculation was far from successful in a pecuniary sense; but M. +Rollin, in furtherance of his opinions, continued for some years to +disburse considerable sums in the support of the journal. By this he no +doubt increased his popularity and his credit with the republican party, +but it can not be denied that he very materially injured his private +fortune. In the earlier portion of his career M. Rollin was, it is +known, not indisposed to seek a seat in the chamber under the auspicies +of M. Barrot, but subsequently to his connection with the _Rforme_, he +had himself become thoroughly known to the extreme party in the +departments, and on the death of Garnier Pags the elder, was elected in +1841 for Le Mans, in the department of La Sarthe. + +In addressing the electors after his return, M. Rollin delivered a +speech much more republican than monarchical. For this he was sentenced +to four months' imprisonment, but the sentence was appealed against and +annulled on a technical ground, and the honorable member was ultimately +acquitted by the Cour d'Assizes of Angers. + +The parliamentary _dbut_ of M. Rollin took place in 1842. His first +speech was delivered on the subject of the secret-service money. The +elocution was easy and flowing, the manner oratorical, the style +somewhat turgid and bombastic. But in the course of the session M. +Rollin improved, and his discourse on the modification of the criminal +law, on other legal subjects, and on railways, were more sober specimens +of style. In 1843 and 1844 M. Rollin frequently spoke; but though his +speeches were a good deal talked of outside the walls of the chamber, +they produced little effect within it. Nevertheless, it was plain to +every candid observer that he possessed many of the requisites of the +orator--a good voice, a copious flow of words, considerable energy and +enthusiasm, a sanguine temperament and jovial and generous disposition. +In the sessions of 1845-46, M. Rollin took a still more prominent part. +His purse, his house in the Rue Tournon, his counsels and advice, were +all placed at the service of the men of the movement, and by the +beginning of 1847 he seemed to be acknowledged by the extreme party as +its most conspicuous and popular member. Such, indeed, was his position +when the electoral reform banquets, on a large scale, began to take +place in the autumn of 1847. These banquets, promoted and forwarded by +the principal members of the opposition to serve the cause of electoral +reform, were looked on by M. Rollin and his friends in another light. +While Odillon Barrot, Duvergier d'Hauranne, and others, sought by means +of them to produce an enlarged constituency, the member for Sarthe +looked not merely to functional, but to organic reform--not merely to an +enlargement of the constituency, but to a change in the form of the +government. The desire of Barrot was _ la vrit, la sincerit des +institutions conquises en Julliet 1830_; whereas the desire of Rollin +was, _ l'amlioration des classes laborieuses_: the one was willing to +go on with the dynasty of Louis Philippe and the Constitution of July +improved by diffusion and extension of the franchise, the other looked +to a democratic and social republic. The result is now known. It is not +here our purpose to go over the events of the Revolution of February, +1848, but we may be permitted to observe, that the combinations by which +that event was effected were ramified and extensive, and were long +silently and secretly in motion. + +The personal history of Ledru Rollin, since February, 1848, is well +known and patent to all the world. He was the _ame damne_ of the +Provisional Government--the man whose extreme opinions, intemperate +circulars, and vehement patronage of persons professing the political +creed of Robespierre--indisposed all moderate men to rally around the +new system. It was in covering Ledru Rollin with the shield of his +popularity that Lamartine lost his own, and that he ceased to be the +political idol of a people of whom he must ever be regarded as one of +the literary glories and illustrations. On the dissolution of the +Provisional Government, Ledru Rollin constituted himself one of the +leaders of the movement party. In ready powers of speech and in +popularity no man stood higher; but he did not possess the power of +restraining his followers or of holding them in hand, and the result +was, that instead of being their leader he became their instrument. Fond +of applause, ambitious of distinction, timid by nature, destitute of +pluck, and of that rarer virtue moral courage, Ledru Rollin, to avoid +the imputation of faint-heartedness, put himself in the foreground, but +the measures of his followers being ill-taken, the plot in which he was +mixed up egregiously failed, and he is now in consequence an exile in +England. + + + + +[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] + +A CHIP FROM A SAILOR'S LOG. + + +It was a dead calm--not a breath of air--the sails flapped idly against +the masts; the helm had lost its power, and the ship turned her head how +and where she liked. The heat was intense, so much so, that the chief +mate had told the boatswain to keep the watch out of the sun; but the +watch below found it too warm to sleep, and were tormented with thirst, +which they could not gratify till the water was served out. They had +drunk all the previous day's allowance; and now that their scuttle but +was dry, there was nothing left for them but endurance. Some of the +seamen had congregated on the top-gallant forecastle, where they gazed +on the clear blue water with longing eyes. + +"How cool and clear it looks," said a tall, powerful young seaman; "I +don't think there are many sharks about: what do you say for a bath, +lads?" + +"That for the sharks!" burst almost simultaneously from the parched lips +of the group: "we'll have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in +to dinner." In about half an hour the dinner-bell rang. The boatswain +took charge of the deck; some twenty sailors were now stripped, except a +pair of light duck trowsers; among the rest was a tall, powerful, +coast-of-Africa nigger of the name of Leigh: they used to joke him, and +call him Sambo. + +"You no swim to-day, Ned?" said he, addressing me. "Feared of shark, +heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after +him--him run like debbel." I was tempted, and, like the rest, was soon +ready. In quick succession we jumped off the spritsail yard, the black +leading. We had scarcely been in the water five minutes, when some voice +in-board cried out, "A shark! a shark!" In an instant every one of the +swimmers came tumbling up the ship's sides, half mad with fright, the +gallant black among the rest. It was a false alarm. We felt angry with +ourselves for being frightened, angry with those who had frightened us, +and furious with those who had laughed at us. In another moment we were +all again in the water, the black and myself swimming some distance from +the ship. For two successive voyages there had been a sort of rivalry +between us: each fancied that he was the best swimmer, and we were now +testing our speed. + +"Well done, Ned!" cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. "Go it, +Sambo!" cried some others. We were both straining our utmost, excited by +the cheers of our respective partisans. Suddenly the voice of the +boatswain was heard shouting, "A shark! a shark! Come back for God's +sake!" + +"Lay aft, and lower the cutter down," then came faintly on our ear. The +race instantly ceased. As yet, we only half believed what we heard, our +recent fright being still fresh in our memories. + +"Swim, for God's sake!" cried the captain, who was now on deck; "he has +not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him. +Strike out, lads, for God's sake!" My heart stood still: I felt weaker +than a child as I gazed with horror at the dorsal fin of a large shark +on the starboard quarter. Though in the water, the perspiration dropped +from me like rain: the black was striking out like mad for the ship. + +"Swim, Ned--swim!" cried several voices; "they never take black when +they can get white." + +I did swim, and that desperately: the water foamed past me. I soon +breasted the black, but could not head him. We both strained every nerve +to be first, for we each fancied the last man would be taken. Yet we +scarcely seemed to move: the ship appeared as far as ever from us. We +were both powerful swimmers, and both of us swam in the French way +called _la brasse_, or hand over hand, in English. There was something +the matter with the boat's falls, and they could not lower her. + +"He sees you now!" was shouted; "he is after you!" Oh the agony of that +moment! I thought of every thing at the same instant, at least so it +seemed to me then. Scenes long forgotten rushed through my brain with +the rapidity of lightning, yet in the midst of this I was striking out +madly for the ship. Each moment I fancied I could feel the pilot-fish +touching me, and I almost screamed with agony. We were now not ten yards +from the ship: fifty ropes were thrown to us; but, as if by mutual +instinct, we swam for the same. + +"Hurra! they are saved!--they are alongside!" was shouted by the eager +crew. We both grasped the rope at the same time: a slight struggle +ensued: I had the highest hold. Regardless of every thing but my own +safety, I placed my feet on the black's shoulders, scrambled up the +side, and fell exhausted on the deck. The negro followed roaring with +pain, for the shark had taken away part of his heel. Since then, I have +never bathed at sea; nor, I believe, has Sambo been ever heard again to +assert that he would swim after a shark if he met one in the water. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE TWO THOMPSONS. + + +By the wayside, not far from the town of Mansfield--on a high and heathy +ground, which gives a far-off view of the minster of Lincoln--you may +behold a little clump of trees, encircled by a wall. That is called +THOMPSON'S GRAVE. But who is this Thompson; and why lies he so far from +his fellows? In ground unconsecrated; in the desert, or on the verge of +it--for cultivation now approaches it? The poor man and his wants spread +themselves, and corn and potatoes crowd upon Thompson's grave. But who +is this Thompson; and why lies he here? + +In the town of Mansfield there was a poor boy, and this poor boy became +employed in a hosier's warehouse. From the warehouse his assiduity and +probity sent him to the counting-house; from the counting-house, abroad. +He traveled to carry stockings to the Asiatic and the people of the +south. He sailed up the rivers of Persia, and saw the tulips growing +wild on their banks, with many a lily and flower of our proudest +gardens. He traveled in Spain and Portugal, and was in Lisbon when the +great earthquake shook his house over his head. He fled. The streets +reeled; the houses fell; church towers dashed down in thunder across his +path. There were flying crowds, shrieks, and dust, and darkness. But he +fled on. The farther, the more misery. Crowds filled the fields when he +reached them--naked, half-naked, terrified, starving, and looking in +vain for a refuge. He fled across the hills, and gazed. The whole huge +city rocked and staggered below. There were clouds of dust, columns of +flame, the thunder of down-crashing buildings, the wild cries of men. He +suffered amid ten thousand suffering outcasts. + +At length, the tumult ceased; the earth became stable. With other ruined +and curious men he climbed over the heaps of desolation in quest of what +once was his home, and the depository of his property. His servant was +nowhere to be seen: Thompson felt that he must certainly have been +killed. After many days' quest, and many uncertainties, he found the +spot where his house had stood; it was a heap of rubbish. His servant +and merchandise lay beneath it. He had money enough, or credit enough, +to set to work men to clear away some of the fallen materials, and to +explore whether any amount of property were recoverable. What's that +sound? A subterranean, or subruinan, voice? The workmen stop, and are +ready to fly with fear. Thompson exhorts them, and they work on. But +again that voice! No _human_ creature can be living there. The laborers +again turn to fly. They are a poor, ignorant, and superstitious crew; +but Thompson's commands, and Thompson's gold, arrest them. They work on, +and out walks Thompson's living servant, still in the body, though a +body not much more substantial than a ghost All cry, "How have you +managed to live?" + +"I fled to the cellar. I have sipped the wine; but now I want bread, +meat, every thing!" and the living skeleton walked staggeringly on, and +looked voraciously for shops and loaves, and saw only brickbats and +ruins. + +Thompson recovered his goods, and retreated as soon as possible to his +native land. Here, in his native town, the memory of the earthquake +still haunted him. He used almost daily to hasten out of the place, and +up the forest hill, where he imagined that he saw Lisbon reeling, +tottering, churches falling, and men flying. But he saw only the red +tiles of some thousand peaceful houses, and the twirling of a dozen +windmill sails. Here he chose his burial-ground; walled it, and planted +it, and left special directions for his burial. The grave should be +deep, and the spades of resurrection-men disappointed by repeated layers +of straw, not easy to dig through. In the church-yard of Mansfield, +meantime, he found the grave of his parents, and honored it with an +inclosure of iron palisades. + +He died. How? Not in travel; not in sailing over the ocean, nor up +tulip-margined rivers of Persia or Arabia Felix; nor yet in an +earthquake--but in the dream of one. One night he was heard crying in a +voice of horror, "There! there!--fly! fly!--the town shakes! the house +falls! Ha! the earth opens!--away!" Then the voice ceased; but in the +morning it was found that he had rolled out of bed, lodged between the +bedstead and the wall, and there, like a sandbag wedged in a windy +crevice, he was--dead! + +There is, therefore, a dead Thompson in Sherwood Forest, where no +clergyman laid him, and yet he sleeps; and there is also a living +Thompson. + +In the village of Edwinstowe, on the very verge of the beautiful old +Birkland, there stands a painter's house. In his little parlor you find +books, and water-color-paintings on the walls, which show that the +painter has read and looked about him in the world. And yet he is but a +house-painter, who owes his establishment here to his love of nature +rather than to his love of art. In the neighboring Dukery, some one of +the wealthy wanted a piece of oak-painting done; but he was dissatisfied +with the style in which painters now paint oak; a style very splendid, +but as much resembling genuine oak as a frying-pan resembles the moon. +Christopher Thompson determined to try _his_ hand; and for this purpose +he did not put himself to school to some great master of the art, who +had copied the copy of a hundred consecutive copies of a piece of oak, +till the thing produced was very fine, but like no wood that ever grew +or ever will grow. Christopher Thompson went to nature. He got a piece +of well-figured, real oak, well planed and polished, and copied it +precisely. When the different specimens of the different painters were +presented to the aforesaid party, he found only one specimen at all like +oak, and that was Thompson's. The whole crowd of master house-painters +were exasperated and amazed. Such a fellow preferred to them! No; they +were wrong; it was nature that was preferred. + +Christopher Thompson was a self-taught painter. He had been tossed about +the world in a variety of characters--errand-boy, brickmakers' boy, +potter, shipwright, sailor, sawyer, strolling player; and here he +finally settled down as painter, and, having achieved a trade, he turned +author, and wrote his life. That life--_The Autobiography of an +Artisan_--is one of the best written and most interesting books of its +class that we ever read. It is full of the difficulties of a poor man's +life, and of the resolute spirit that conquers them. It is, moreover, +full of a desire to enlighten, elevate, and in every way better the +condition of his fellow-men. Christopher Thompson is not satisfied to +have made his own way; he is anxious to pave the way for the whole +struggling population. He is a zealous politician, and advocate of the +Odd Fellow system, as calculated to link men together and give them +power, while it gives them a stimulus to social improvement. He has +labored to diffuse a love of reading, and to establish mechanics' +libraries in neglected and obscure places. + +Behold the Thompson of Edwinstowe. Time, in eight-and-forty years, has +whitened his hair, though it has left the color of health on his cheek, +and the fire of intelligence in his eye. With a well-built frame and +figure, and a comely countenance, there is a buoyancy of step, an energy +of manner about him, that agree with what he has written of his life and +aspirations. Such are the men that England is now, ever and anon, in +every nook and corner of the island, producing. She produces them +because they are needed. They are the awakeners who are to stir up the +sluggish to what the time demands of them. + +The two Thompsons of Sherwood are types of their ages. He of the +grave--lies solitary and apart from his race. He lived to earn +money--his thought was for himself--and there he sleeps, alone in his +glory--such as it is. He was no worse, nay, he was better than many of +his contemporaries. He had no lack of benevolence; but trade and the +spirit of his age, cold and unsympathetic, absorbed him. He was content +to lie alone in the desert, amid the heath "that knows not when good +cometh," and where the lonely raven perches on the blasted tree. + +The living Thompson is, too, the man of his age: for it is an age of +awakening enterprise, of wider views, of stronger sympathies. He lives +and works, not for himself alone. His motto is Progress; and while the +forest whispers to him of the past, books and his own heart commune with +him of the future. Such men belong to both. When the present becomes the +past, their work will survive them; and their tomb will not be a desert, +but the grateful memories of improved men. May they spring up in every +hamlet, and carry knowledge and refinement to every cottage fireside! + + + + +[From Five Years' Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +HABITS OF THE AFRICAN LION. + + +The night of the 19th was to me rather a memorable one, as being the +first on which I had the satisfaction of hearing the deep-toned thunder +of the lion's roar. Although there was no one near to inform me by what +beast the haughty and impressive sounds which echoed through the +wilderness were produced, I had little difficulty in divining. There was +no mistake about it; and on hearing it I at once knew, as well as if +accustomed to the sound from my infancy; that the appalling roar which +was uttered within half a mile of me was no other than that of the +mighty and terrible king of beasts. Although the dignified and truly +monarchical appearance of the lion has long rendered him famous among +his fellow quadrupeds, and his appearance and habits have oftener been +described by abler pens than mine, nevertheless I consider that a few +remarks, resulting from my own personal experience, formed by a +tolerable long acquaintance with him, both by day and by night, may not +prove uninteresting to the reader. There is something so noble and +imposing in the presence of the lion, when seen walking with dignified +self-possession, free and undaunted, on his native soil, that no +description can convey an adequate idea of his striking appearance. The +lion is exquisitely formed by nature for the predatory habits which he +is destined to pursue. Combining in comparatively small compass the +qualities of power and agility, he is enabled, by means of the +tremendous machinery with which nature has gifted him, easily to +overcome and destroy almost every beast of the forest, however superior +to him in weight and stature. + +Though considerably under four feet in height, he has little difficulty +in dashing to the ground and overcoming the lofty and apparently +powerful giraffe, whose head towers above the trees of the forest, and +whose skin is nearly an inch in thickness. The lion is the constant +attendant of the vast herds of buffaloes which frequent the interminable +forests of the interior; and a full-grown one, so long as his teeth are +unbroken, generally proves a match for an old bull buffalo, which in +size and strength greatly surpasses the most powerful breed of English +cattle: the lion also preys on all the larger varieties of the +antelopes, and on both varieties of the gnoo. The zebra, which is met +with in large herds throughout the interior, is also a favorite object +of his pursuit. + +Lions do not refuse, as has been asserted, to feast upon the venison +that they have not killed themselves. I have repeatedly discovered lions +of all ages which had taken possession of, and were feasting upon, the +carcasses of various game quadrupeds which had fallen before my rifle. +The lion is very generally diffused throughout the secluded parts of +Southern Africa. He is, however, nowhere met with in great abundance, it +being very rare to find more than three, or even two, families of lions +frequenting the same district and drinking at the same fountain. When a +greater number were met with, I remarked that it was owing to +long-protracted droughts, which, by drying nearly all the fountains, had +compelled the game of various districts to crowd the remaining springs, +and the lions, according to their custom, followed in the wake. It is a +common thing to come upon a full-grown lion and lioness associating with +three or four large young ones nearly full-grown; at other times, +full-grown males will be found associating and hunting together in a +happy state of friendship: two, three, and four full-grown male lions +may thus be discovered consorting together. + +The male lion is adorned with a long, rank, shaggy mane, which in some +instances, almost sweeps the ground. The color of these manes varies, +some being very dark, and others of a golden yellow. This appearance has +given rise to a prevailing opinion among the boers that there are two +distinct varieties of lions, which they distinguish by the respective +names of "Schwart fore life" and "Chiel fore life:" this idea, however, +is erroneous. The color of the lion's mane is generally influenced by +his age. He attains his mane in the third year of his existence. I have +remarked that at first it is of a yellowish color; in the prime of life +it is blackest, and when he has numbered many years, but still is in the +full enjoyment of his power, it assumes a yellowish-gray, +pepper-and-salt sort of color. These old fellows are cunning and +dangerous, and most to be dreaded. The females are utterly destitute of +a mane, being covered with a short, thick, glossy coat of tawny hair. +The manes and coats of lions frequenting open-lying districts utterly +destitute of trees, such as the borders of the great Kalahari desert, +are more rank and handsome than those inhabiting forest districts. + +One of the most striking things connected with the lion is his voice, +which is extremely grand and peculiarly striking. It consists at times +of a low, deep moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly +audible sighs; at other times he startles the forest with loud, +deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick +succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his +voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling +distant thunder. At times, and not unfrequently, a troop may be heard +roaring in concert, one assuming the lead, and two, three, or four more +regularly taking up their parts, like persons singing a catch. Like our +Scottish stags at the rutting season, they roar loudest in cold, frosty +nights; but on no occasions are their voices to be heard in such +perfection, or so intensely powerful, as when two or three strange +troops of lions approach a fountain to drink at the same time. When this +occurs, every member of each troop sounds a bold roar of defiance at the +opposite parties; and when one roars, all roar together, and each seems +to vie with his comrades in the intensity and power of his voice. + +The power and grandeur of these nocturnal forest concerts is +inconceivably striking and pleasing to the hunter's ear. The effect, I +may remark, is greatly enhanced when the hearer happens to be situated +in the depths of the forest, at the dead hour of midnight, unaccompanied +by any attendant, and ensconced within twenty yards of the fountain +which the surrounding troops of lions are approaching. Such has been my +situation many scores of times; and though I am allowed to have a +tolerable good taste for music, I consider the catches with which I was +then regaled as the sweetest and most natural I ever heard. + +As a general rule, lions roar during the night; their sighing moans +commencing as the shades of evening envelop the forest, and continuing +at intervals throughout the night. In distant and secluded regions, +however, I have constantly heard them roaring loudly as late as nine and +ten o'clock on a bright sunny morning. In hazy and rainy weather they +are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is subdued. It +often happens that when two strange male lions meet at a fountain, a +terrific combat ensues, which not unfrequently ends in the death of one +of them. The habits of the lion are strictly nocturnal; during the day +he lies concealed beneath the shade of some low, bushy tree or +wide-spreading bush, either in the level forest or on the mountain side. +He is also partial to lofty reeds, or fields of long, rank, yellow +grass, such as occur in low-lying vleys. From these haunts he sallies +forth when the sun goes down, and commences his nightly prowl. When he +is successful in his beat and has secured his prey, he does not roar +much that night, only uttering occasionally a few low moans; that is, +provided no intruders approach him, otherwise the case would be very +different. + +Lions are ever most active, daring, and presuming in dark and stormy +nights, and consequently, on such occasions, the traveler ought more +particularly to be on his guard. I remarked a fact connected with the +lions' hour of drinking peculiar to themselves: they seemed unwilling to +visit the fountains with good moonlight. Thus, when the moon rose early, +the lions deferred their hour of watering until late in the morning; and +when the moon rose late, they drank at a very early hour in the night. +By this acute system many a grisly lion saved his bacon, and is now +luxuriating in the forests of South Africa, which had otherwise fallen +by the barrels of my "Westley Richards." Owing to the tawny color of the +coat with which nature has robed him, he is perfectly invisible in the +dark; and although I have often heard them loudly lapping the water +under my very nose, not twenty yards from me. I could not possibly make +out so much as the outline of their forms. When a thirsty lion comes to +water, he stretches out his massive arms, lies down on his breast to +drink, and makes a loud lapping noise in drinking not to be mistaken. He +continues lapping up the water for a long while, and four or five times +during the proceeding he pauses for half a minute as if to take breath. +One thing conspicuous about them is their eyes, which, in a dark night, +glow like two balls of fire. The female is more fierce and active than +the male, as a general rule. Lionesses which have never had young are +much more dangerous than those which have. At no time is the lion so +much to be dreaded as when his partner has got small young ones. At that +season he knows no fear, and, in the coolest and most intrepid manner, +he will face a thousand men. A remarkable instance of this kind came +under my own observation, which confirmed the reports I had before heard +from the natives. One day, when out elephant-hunting in the territory of +the "Baseleka," accompanied by two hundred and fifty men, I was +astonished suddenly to behold a majestic lion slowly and steadily +advancing toward us with a dignified step and undaunted bearing, the +most noble and imposing that can be conceived. Lashing his tail from +side to side, and growling haughtily, his terribly expressive eye +resolutely fixed upon us, and displaying a show of ivory well calculated +to inspire terror among the timid "Bechuanas," he approached. A headlong +flight of the two hundred and fifty men was the immediate result; and, +in the confusion of the moment, four couples of my dogs, which they had +been leading, were allowed to escape in their couples. These instantly +faced the lion, who, finding that by his bold bearing he had succeeded +in putting his enemies to flight, now became solicitous for the safety +of his little family, with which the lioness was retreating in the +background. Facing about, he followed after them with a haughty and +independent step, growling fiercely at the dogs which trotted along on +either side of him. Three troops of elephants having been discovered a +few minutes previous to this, upon which I was marching for the attack, +I, with the most heartfelt reluctance, reserved my fire. On running down +the hill side to endeavor to recall my dogs, I observed, for the first +time, the retreating lioness with four cubs. About twenty minutes +afterward two noble elephants repaid my forbearance. + +Among Indian Nimrods, a certain class of royal tigers is dignified with +the appellation of "man-eaters." These are tigers which, having once +tasted human flesh, show a predilection for the same, and such +characters are very naturally famed and dreaded among the natives. +Elderly gentlemen of similar tastes and habits are occasionally met with +among the lions in the interior of South Africa, and the danger of such +neighbors may be easily imagined. I account for lions first acquiring +this taste in the following manner: the Bechuana tribes of the far +interior do not bury their dead, but unceremoniously carry them forth, +and leave them lying exposed in the forest or on the plain, a prey to +the lion and hyna, or the jackal and vulture; and I can readily imagine +that a lion, having thus once tasted human flesh, would have little +hesitation, when opportunity presented itself, of springing upon and +carrying off the unwary traveler or "Bechuana" inhabiting his country. +Be this as it may, man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting +expedition, a horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little +lonely camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived me, in +the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In winding up these few +observations on the lion, which I trust will not have been tiresome to +the reader, I may remark that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is +decidedly a dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a +certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have naturally a +turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of death, perfect coolness +and self-possession, an acquaintance with the disposition and manners of +lions, and a tolerable knowledge of the use of the rifle, are +indispensable to him who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting +pastime of hunting this justly-celebrated king of beasts. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE OLD CHURCH-YARD TREE. + +A PROSE POEM. + + +There is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet corner +of the church-yard. + +And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine +day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the +fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to +himself as he wove them into garlands. + +And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen; but +the boy was so intent upon his garland, that he did not hear the gentle +footsteps as they trod softly over the fresh green grass. When his work +was finished, and all the flowers that were in his lap were woven +together in one long wreath, he started, up to measure its length upon +the ground, and then he saw the little girl, as she stood with her eyes +fixed upon him. He did not move or speak, but thought to himself that +she looked very beautiful as she stood there with her flaxen ringlets +hanging down upon her neck. The little girl was so startled by his +sudden movement, that she let fall all the flowers she had collected in +her apron, and ran away as fast as she could. But the boy was older and +taller than she, and soon caught her, and coaxed her to come back and +play with him, and help him to make more garlands; and from that time +they saw each other nearly every day, and became great friends. + +Twenty years passed away. Again, he was seated beneath the old yew tree +in the church-yard. + +It was summer now; bright, beautiful summer, with the birds singing, and +the flowers covering the ground, and scenting the air with their +perfume. + +But he was not alone now, nor did the little girl steal near on tiptoe, +fearful of being heard. She was seated by his side, and his arm was +round her, and she looked up into his face, and smiled as she whispered: +"The first evening of our lives we were ever together was passed here: +we will spend the first evening of our wedded life in the same quiet, +happy place." And he drew her closer to him as she spoke. + +The summer is gone; and the autumn; and twenty more summers and autumns +have passed away since that evening, in the old church-yard. + +A young man, on a bright moonlight night, comes reeling through the +little white gate, and stumbling over the graves. He shouts and he +sings, and is presently followed by others like unto himself, or worse. +So, they all laugh at the dark solemn head of the yew tree, and throw +stones up at the place where the moon has silvered the boughs. + +Those same boughs are again silvered by the moon, and they droop over +his mother's grave. There is a little stone which bears this +inscription: + + "HER HEART BRAKE IN SILENCE." + +But the silence of the church-yard is now broken by a voice--not of the +youth--nor a voice of laughter and ribaldry. + +"My son! dost thou see this grave? and dost thou read the record in +anguish, whereof may come repentance?" + +"Of what should I repent?" answers the son; "and why should my young +ambition for fame relax in its strength because my mother was old and +weak?" + +"Is this indeed our son?" says the father, bending in agony over the +grave of his beloved. + +"I can well believe I am not;" exclaimeth the youth. "It is well that +you have brought me here to say so. Our natures are unlike; our courses +must be opposite. Your way lieth here--mine yonder!" + +So the son left the father kneeling by the grave. + +Again a few years are passed. It is winter, with a roaring wind and a +thick gray fog. The graves in the church-yard are covered with snow, and +there are great icicles in the church-porch. The wind now carries a +swathe of snow along the tops of the graves, as though the "sheeted +dead" were at some melancholy play; and hark! the icicles fall with a +crash and jingle, like a solemn mockery of the echo of the unseemly +mirth of one who is now coming to his final rest. + +There are two graves near the old yew tree; and the grass has overgrown +them. A third is close by; and the dark earth at each side has just been +thrown up. The bearers come; with a heavy pace they move along; the +coffin heaveth up and down, as they step over the intervening graves. + +Grief and old age had seized upon the father, and worn out his life; and +premature decay soon seized upon the son, and gnawed away his vain +ambition, and his useless strength, till he prayed to be borne, not the +way yonder that was most opposite to his father and his mother, but even +the same way they had gone--the way which leads to the Old Church-yard +Tree. + + + + +THE ENGLISH PEASANT. + +BY HOWITT. + + +The English peasant is generally reckoned a very simple, monotonous +animal; and most people, when they have called him a clown, or a +country-hob, think they have described him. If you see a picture of him, +he is a long, silly-looking fellow, in a straw hat, a white slop, and a +pair of ankle-boots, with a bill in his hand--just as the London artist +sees him in the juxta-metropolitan districts; and that is the English +peasant. They who have gone farther into England, however, than Surrey, +Kent, or Middlesex, have seen the English peasant in some different +costume, under a good many different aspects; and they who will take the +trouble to recollect what they have heard of him, will find him a rather +multifarious creature. He is, in truth, a very Protean personage. What +is he, in fact? A day-laborer, a woodman, a plowman, a wagoner, a +collier, a worker in railroad and canal making, a gamekeeper, a poacher, +an incendiary, a charcoal-burner, a keeper of village ale-houses, and +Tom-and-Jerrys; a tramp, a pauper, pacing sullenly in the court-yard of +a parish-union, or working in his frieze jacket on some parish-farm; a +boatman, a road-side stone-breaker, a quarryman, a journeyman +bricklayer, or his clerk; a shepherd, a drover, a rat-catcher, a +mole-catcher, and a hundred other things; in any one of which, he is as +different from the sheepish, straw-hatted, and ankle-booted, +bill-holding fellow of the print-shop windows, as a cockney is from a +Newcastle keelman. + +In the matter of costume only, every different district presents him in +a different shape. In the counties round London, eastward and westward, +through Berkshire, Hampshire, Wiltshire, etc., he is the _white-slopped_ +man of the London prints, with a longish, rosy-cheeked face, and a +stupid, quiet manner. In Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, and in that +direction, he sports his _olive-green_ slop, and his wide-awake, larking +hat, bit-o'-blood, or whatever else the hatters call those +round-crowned, turned-up-brimmed felts of eighteen-pence or two +shillings cost, which have of late years so wonderfully taken the fancy +of the country-chaps. In the Midland counties, especially +Leicestershire, Derby, Nottingham, Warwick, and Staffordshire, he dons a +_blue-slop_, called the Newark frock, which is finely gathered in a +square piece of puckerment on the back and breast, on the shoulders and +at the wrists; is adorned also, in those parts, with flourishes of white +thread, and as invariably has a little white heart stitched in at the +bottom of the slit at the neck. A man would not think himself a man, if +he had not one of those slops, which are the first things that he sees +at a market or a fair, hung aloft at the end of the slop-vender's stall, +on a crossed pole, and waving about like a scarecrow in the wind. + +Under this he generally wears a coarse blue jacket, a red or yellow shag +waistcoat, stout blue worsted stockings, tall laced ankle-boots, and +corduroy breeches or trowsers. A red handkerchief round his neck is his +delight, with two good long ends dangling in front. In many other parts +of the country, he wears no slop at all, but a corduroy or fustian +jacket, with capacious pockets, and buttons of giant size. + +That is his every-day, work-a-day style; but see him on a Sunday, or a +holiday--see him turn out to church, wake, or fair--there's a _beau_ for +you! If he has not his best slop on, which has never yet been defiled by +touch of labor, he is conspicuous in his blue, brown, or olive-green +coat, and waistcoat of glaring color--scarlet, or blue, or green +striped--but it must be showy; and a pair of trowsers, generally blue, +with a width nearly as ample as a sailor's, and not only guiltless of +the foppery of being strapped down, but if he find the road rather +dirty, or the grass dewy, they are turned up three or four inches at the +bottom, so as to show the lining. On those days, he has a hat of modern +shape, that has very lately cost him four-and-sixpence; and if he fancy +himself rather handsome, or stands well with the women, he cocks it a +little on one side, and wears it with a knowing air. He wears the collar +of his coarse shirt up on a holiday, and his flaming handkerchief round +his neck puts forth dangling ends of an extra length, like streamers. +The most troublesome business of a full-dress day is to know what to do +with his hands. He is dreadfully at a loss where to put them. On other +days, they have plenty of occupation with their familiar implements, but +to-day they are miserably sensible of a vacuum; and, except he be very +old, he wears no gloves. They are sometimes diving into his +trowser-pockets, sometimes into his waistcoat-pocket, and at others into +his coat-pockets behind, turning his laps out like a couple of tails. + +The great remedy for this inconvenience is a stick, or a switch; and in +the corner of his cottage, between the clock-case and the wall, you +commonly see a stick of a description that indicates its owner. It is an +ash-plant, with a face cut on its knob; or a thick hazel, which a +woodbine has grown tightly round, and raised on it a spiral, serpentine +swelling; or it is a switch, that is famous for cutting off the heads of +thistles, docks, and nettles, as he goes along. + +The women, in their paraphernalia, generally bear a nearer resemblance +to their sisters of the town; the village dressmaker undertaking to put +them into the very newest fashion which has reached that part of the +country; and truly, were it not for the genuine country manner in which +their clothes are thrown on, they might pass very well, too, at the +market. + +But the old men and old women, they are of the ancient world, truly. +There they go, tottering and stooping along to church! It is now their +longest journey. The old man leans heavily on his stout stick. His thin +white hair covers his shoulders; his coat, with large steel buttons, and +square-cut collar, has an antique air; his breeches are of leather, and +worn bright with age, standing up at the knees, like the lids of +tankards; and his loose shoes have large steel buckles. By his side, +comes on his old dame, with her little, old-fashioned black bonnet; her +gown, of a large flowery pattern, pulled up through the pocket-hole, +showing a well-quilted petticoat, black stockings, high-heeled shoes, +and large buckles also. She has on a black mode cloak, edged with +old-fashioned lace, carefully darned; or if winter, her warm red cloak, +with a narrow edging of fur down the front. You see, in fancy, the oaken +chest in which that drapery has been kept for the last half century; and +you wonder who is to wear it next. Not their children--for the fashions +of this world are changed; they must be cut down into primitive raiment +for the grandchildren. + +But who says the English peasant is dull and unvaried in his character? +To be sure, he has not the wild wit, the voluble tongue, the reckless +fondness for laughing, dancing, carousing, and shillalying of the Irish +peasant; nor the grave, plodding habits and intelligence of the Scotch +one. He may be said, in his own phraseology, to be "betwixt and +between." He has wit enough when it is wanted; he can be merry enough +when there is occasion; he is ready for a row when his blood is well up; +and he will take to his book, if you will give him a schoolmaster. What +is he, indeed, but the rough block of English character? Hew him out of +the quarry of ignorance; dig him out of the slough of everlasting labor; +chisel him, and polish him; and he will come out whatever you please. +What is the stuff of which your armies have been chiefly made, but this +English peasant? Who won your Cressys, your Agincourts, your Quebecs, +your Indies, East and West, and your Waterloos, but the English peasant, +trimmed and trained into the game-cock of war? How many of them have +been carried off to man your fleets, to win your Camperdowns and +Trafalgars? and when they came ashore again, were no longer the simple, +slouching Simons of the village; but jolly tars, with rolling gait, quid +in mouth, glazed hats, with crowns of one inch high, and brims of five +wide, and with as much glib slang, and glib money to treat the girls +with, as any Jack of them all. + +Cowper has drawn a capital picture of the ease and perfection with which +the clownish chrysalis may be metamorphosed into the scarlet moth of +war. Catch the animal young, and you may turn him into any shape you +please. He will learn to wear silk stockings, scarlet plush breeches, +collarless coats, with silver buttons; and swing open a gate with a +grace, or stand behind my lady's carriage with his wand, as smoothly +impudent as any of the tribe. He will clerk it with a pen behind his +ear; or mount a pulpit, as Stephen Duck, the thresher, did, if you will +only give him the chance. The fault is not in him, it is in fortune. He +has rich fallows in his soul, if any body thought them worth turning. +But keep him down, and don't press him too hard; feed him pretty well, +and give him plenty of work; and, like one of his companions, the +cart-horse, he will drudge on till the day of his death. + +So in the north of England, where they give him a cottage and his food, +and keep no more of his species than will just do the work, letting all +the rest march off to the Tyne collieries; he is a very patient +creature; and if they did not show him books, would not wince at all. So +in the fens of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdon, and on many +a fat and clayey level of England, where there are no resident gentry, +and but here and there a farm-house, you may meet, the English peasant +in his most sluggish and benumbed condition. He is then a long-legged, +staring creature, considerably "lower than the angels," who, if you ask +him a question, gapes like an Indian frog, which, when its mouth is +open, has its head half off; and neither understands your language, nor, +if he did, could grasp your ideas. He is there a walking lump, a thing +with members, but very little membership with the intellectual world; +but with a soul as stagnant as one of his own dykes. All that has been +wanted in him has been cultivated, and is there--good sturdy limbs, to +plow and sow, reap and mow, and feed bullocks; and even in those +operations, his sinews have been half-superseded by machinery. There +never was any need of his mind; and, therefore, it never has been +minded. + +This is the English peasant, where there is nobody to breathe a soul +into the clod. But what is he where there are thousands of the wealthy +and the wise? What is he round London--the great, the noble, and the +enlightened? Pretty much the same, and from pretty much the same causes. +Few trouble themselves about him. He feels that he is a mere serf, among +the great and free; a mere machine in the hands of the mighty, who use +him as such. He sees the sunshine of grandeur, but he does not feel its +warmth. He hears that the great folks are wise; but all he knows is, +that their wisdom does not trouble itself about his ignorance. He asks, +with "The Farmer's Boy," + + Whence comes this change, ungracious, irksome, cold? + Whence this new grandeur that mine eyes behold?-- + The widening distance that I daily see? + Has wealth done this? Then wealth's a foe to me! + Foe to my rights, that leaves a powerful few + The paths of emulation to pursue. + +Beneath the overwhelming sense of his position, that he belongs to a +neglected, despised caste, he is, in the locality alluded to, truly a +dull fellow. That the peasant there is not an ass or a sheep, you only +know by his standing on end. You hear no strains of country drollery, +and no characters of curious or eccentric humor; all is dull, plodding, +and lumpish. + +But go forth, my masters, to a greater distance from the luminous +capital of England; get away into the Midland and more Northern +counties, where the pride of greatness is not so palpably before the +poor man's eyes--where the peasantry and villagers are numerous enough +to keep one another in countenance; and there you shall find the English +peasant a "happier and a wiser man." Sunday-schools, and village +day-schools, give him at least the ability to read the Bible. There, the +peasant feels that he is a man; he speaks in a broad dialect, indeed, +but he is "a fellow of infinite jest." Hear him in the hay-field, in the +corn-field, at the harvest-supper, or by the village ale-house fire, if +he be not very refined, he is, nevertheless, a very independent fellow. +Look at the man indeed! None of your long, lanky fellows, with a sleepy +visage; but a sturdy, square-built chap, propped on a pair of legs, that +have self-will, and the spirit of Hampden in them, as plain as the ribs +of the gray-worsted stockings that cover them. What thews, what sinews, +what a pair of _calves_! why, they more resemble a couple of full-grown +_bulls_! See to his salutation, as he passes any of his neighbors--hear +it. Does he touch his hat, and bow his head, and look down, as the great +man goes by in his carriage? No! he leaves that to the cowed bumpkin of +the south. He looks his rich-neighbor full in the face, with a fearless, +but respectful gaze, and bolts from his manly breast a hearty, "Good day +to ye, sir!" To his other neighbor, his equal in worldly matters, he +extends his broad hand, and gives him a shake that is felt to the bottom +of the heart. "Well, and how are you, John?--and how's Molly, and all +the little ankle-biters?--and how goes the pig on, and the garden--eh?" + +Let me hear the dialogue of those two brave fellows; there is the soul +of England's brightest days in it. I am sick of slavish poverty on the +one hand, and callous pride on the other. I yearn for the sound of +language breathed from the lungs of humble independence, and the +cordial, earnest greetings of poor, but warm-hearted men, as I long for +the breeze of the mountains and the sea. Oh! I doubt much if this + + Bold peasantry, a country's pride, + +is lowered in its tone, both of heart-wholeness, boldness, and +affection, by the harsh times and harsh measures that have passed over +every district, even the most favored; or why all these emigrations, and +why all these parish-unions? What, then, is not the English peasant what +he was? If I went among them where I used to go, should I not find the +same merry groups seated among the sheaves, or under the hedgerows, full +of laughter, and full of droll anecdotes of all the country round? +Should I not hear of the farmer who never wrote but one letter in his +life, and that was to a gentleman forty miles off; who, on opening it, +and not being able to puzzle out more than the name and address of his +correspondent, mounted his horse in his vexation, and rode all the way +to ask the farmer to read the letter himself; and he could not do +it--could not read his own writing? Should I not hear Jonathan Moore, +the stout old mower, rallied on his address to the bull, when it pursued +him till he escaped into a tree? How Jonathan, sitting across a branch, +looked down with the utmost contempt on the bull, and endeavored to +convince him that he was a bully and a coward? "My! what a vaporing +coward art thou! Where's the fairness, where's the equalness of the +match? I tell thee, my heart's good enough; but what's my strength to +thine?" + +Should I not once more hear the hundred-times-told story of Jockey +Dawes, and the man who sold him his horse? Should I not hear these, and +scores of such anecdotes, that show the simple life of the district, and +yet have more hearty merriment in them than much finer stories in much +finer places? Hard times and hard measures may have, quenched some of +the ancient hilarity of the English peasant, and struck a silence into +lungs that were wont to "crow like chanticleer;" yet I will not believe +but that, in many a sweet and picturesque district, on many a brown +moor-land, in many a far-off glen and dale of our wilder and more +primitive districts, where the peasantry are almost the sole +inhabitants--whether shepherds, laborers, hewers of wood, or drawers of +waters-- + + The ancient spirit is not dead, + +that homely and loving groups gather round evening fires, beneath low +and smoky rafters, and feel that they have labor and care enough, as +their fathers had, but that they have the pride of homes, hearts, and +sympathies still. + +Let England take care that these are the portion of the English peasant, +and he will never cease to show himself the noblest peasant on the face +of the earth. Is he not that, in his patience with penury with him, and +old age, and the union before him? Is he not that, when his landlord has +given him his sympathy? When he has given him an ALLOTMENT--who so +grateful, so industrious, so provident, so contented, and so +respectable? + +The English peasant has in his nature all the elements of the English +character. Give him ease, and who so readily pleased; wrong him, and who +so desperate in his rage? + +In his younger days, before the care of a family weighs on him, he is a +clumsy, but a very light-hearted creature. To see a number of young +country fellows get into play together, always reminds one of a quantity +of heavy cart-horses turned into a field on a Sunday. They gallop, and +kick, and scream. There is no malice, but a dreadful jeopardy of bruises +and broken ribs. Their play is truly called horse-play; it is all slaps +and bangs, tripping-up, tumbles, and laughter. But to see the young +peasant in his glory, you should see him hastening to the +Michaelmas-fair, statute, bull-roasting, or mop. He has served his year; +he has money in his pocket, his sweetheart on his arm, or he is sure to +meet her at the fair. Whether he goes again to his old place or a new +one, he will have a week's holiday. Thus, on old Michaelmas-day, he and +all his fellows, all the country over, are let loose, and are on the way +to the fair. The houses are empty of them--the highways are full of +them; there they go, lads and lasses, streaming along, all in their +finery, and with a world of laughter and loud talk. See, here they come, +flocking into the market-town! And there, what preparations for them! +shows, strolling theatres, stalls of all kinds--bearing clothes of all +kinds, knives, combs, queen-cakes, and gingerbread, and a hundred +inventions to lure those hard-earned wages out of his fob. And he does +not mean to be stingy to-day; he will treat his lass, and buy her a new +gown into the bargain. See, how they go rolling on together! He holds up +his elbow sharply by his side; she thrusts her arm through his, _up to +the elbow_, and away they go--a walking miracle that they can walk +together at all. As to keeping step, that is out of the question; but, +besides this, they wag and roll about in such a way, that, keeping their +arms tightly linked, it is amazing that they don't pull off one or the +other; but they don't. They shall see the shows, and stand all in a +crowd before them, with open eyes and open mouths, wondering at the +beauty of the dancing-women, and their gowns all over spangles, and at +all the wit and grimaces, and somersets of harlequin and clown. They +have had a merry dinner and a dance, like a dance of elephants and +hippopotami; and then-- + + To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new. + +And these are the men that become sullen and desperate--that become +poachers and incendiaries. How and why! It is not plenty and kind words +that make them so? What, then? What makes the wolves herd together, and +descend from the Alps and the Pyrenees? What makes them desperate and +voracious, blind with fury, and reveling with vengeance? Hunger and +hardship! + +When the English peasant is gay, at ease, well-fed and clothed, what +cares he how many pheasants are in a wood, or ricks in a farmer's yard? +When he has a dozen backs to clothe, and a dozen mouths to feed, and +nothing to put on the one, and little to put into the other--then that +which seemed a mere playful puppy, suddenly starts up a snarling, +red-eyed monster! How sullen he grows! With what equal indifference he +shoots down pheasants or game-keepers. How the man who so recently held +up his head and laughed aloud, now sneaks, a villainous fiend, with the +dark lantern and the match, to his neighbor's rick! Monster! Can this be +the English peasant? 'Tis the same!--'tis the very man! But what has +made him so? What has thus demonized, thus infuriated, thus converted +him into a walking pestilence? Villain as he is, is he alone to +blame?--or is there another? + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. + +[_Continued from Page_ 340.] + +CHAPTER IX. + +A SCRAPE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. + + +When I reached the quarters of the tat major, I found the great +court-yard of the "hotel" crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of +the service. Some were newly-joined recruits waiting for the orders to +be forwarded to their respective regiments. Some were invalids just +issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way +homeward. There were sergeants with billet rolls, and returns, and +court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents, hastening +hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went; +all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms +called out the orders from the different windows, and dispatches were +sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient +palace of the dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble +in the centre of the "Cour," still showed the proud armorial bearings of +that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated +groups of soldiers; their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting +strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that +still decorated the rich "plateau." Chakos, helmets, and great coats +were hung upon the orange trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the +white leather apron of the "sapeur," were drying along the marble +benches of the terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, +which separated the court from the garden, was actually covered with +belts, swords, bayonets, and horse gear, in every stage and process of +cleaning. Within the garden itself, however, all was silent and still. +Two sentries, who paced backward and forward beneath the "grille," +showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose careless +gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the mere "genius +of the place" would exercise over them. + +To me, the interest of every thing was increasing; and whether I +lingered to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at +all he saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old +soldiers of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they +were going; perhaps to the north to join the army of Sambre; perhaps to +the east, to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they were +destined for Italy: none cared! Meanwhile, at every moment, detachments +moved off, and their places were filled by fresh arrivals--all dusty and +way-worn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel, +when they were called on to "fall in," and again the word "forward" was +given. Such of the infantry as appeared too weary for the march were +sent on in great charrettes drawn by six or eight horses, and capable of +carrying forty men in each; and of these, there seemed to be no end. No +sooner was one detachment away, than another succeeded. Whatever their +destination, one thing seemed evident, the urgency that called them was +beyond the common. For a while I forgot all about myself in the greater +interest of the scene; but then came the thought, that I, too, should +have my share in this onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my +young friend, the "Sous-Lieutenant." I had not asked his name, but his +regiment I knew to be the 22d Chasseurs Cheval. The uniform was light +green, and easily enough to be recognized; yet nowhere was it to be +seen. There were cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and +carabiniers in abundance--every thing, in short, but what I sought. + +At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22d were quartered, +and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that morning at +eight o'clock. There were two more squadrons expected to arrive at noon, +but the orders were that they were to proceed without further halt. + +"And whither to?" asked I. + +"To Treves, on the Moselle," said he, and turned away as if he would not +be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not have +been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me. He was +to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have obtained +the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one even to +advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but could +resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now become a +reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles hastening +forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers just flushed +with recent victory; even the peasant boys were "eager for the fray;" +but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The enthusiasm of +all around only served to increase and deepen my depression. There was +not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran of the ranks to the +merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have exchanged fortunes. Some +hours passed over in these gloomy reveries, and when I looked up from +the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over me, "the Cour" was almost +empty. A few sick soldiers waiting for their billets of leave, a few +recruits not yet named to any corps, and a stray orderly or two standing +beside his horse, were all that remained. + +I arose to go away, but in my pre-occupation of mind, instead of turning +toward the street, I passed beneath a large arch-way into another court +of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in decoration and +ornament than the outer one. After spending some time admiring the +quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all the architraves +and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched door-way, in the middle +of which was a small railed window, like the grille of a convent. I +approached, and perceived that it led into a garden, by a long, narrow +walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a wall. The trimly-raked +gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge, showed the care bestowed on +the grounds to be a wide contrast to the neglect exhibited in the +mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths and carnations ran along +either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms appearing in strong +relief against the back-ground of dark foliage. + +The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of my +arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within the +precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire and +close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I could not +resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so tempting. There was +no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought it likely the garden +was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with cautious and uncertain +steps; at last, with more confidence, for as I issued from the +hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the solitude seemed +unbroken. Fruit trees, loaded with their produce, stood in a closely +shaven lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks planted +with daffodills and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about through the +grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn boldly came +over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not finding an old +friend, continued to walk beside me as I went. + +The grounds appeared of great extent; paths led off in every direction; +and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering roof and +sides of a conservatory, in others, the humble culture of a vegetable +garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in the calm and +tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so immediately after +the busy bustle of the "soldiering," I soon not only forgot that I was +an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander "fancy free," following +out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the +choice were given me, I would rather have been the "Adam of that Eden" +than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory! +Fortunately, or unfortunately--it would not be easy to decide which--the +alternative was not open to me. It was while I was still musing, I found +myself at the foot of a little eminence, on which stood a tower, whose +height and position showed it had been built for the view it afforded +over a vast tract of country. Even from where I stood, at its base, I +could see over miles and miles of a great plain, with the main roads +leading toward the north and eastward. This spot was also the boundary +of the grounds, and a portion of the old boulevard of the town formed +the defense against the open country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with +sides of sloping sward, cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order; but, +from its depth and width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was +peering cautiously down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to +my ear, that I started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the +speaker was directly above me; and leaning over the battlements at the +top of the tower. + +"You're quite right, cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his eye, +and directed his view toward the plain. He _has_ gone wrong! He has +taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one." + +An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the +telescope passed to another hand, and to my astonishment, that of a +lady. + +"Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and +yet--Parbleu! it's too bad!" + +I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but not +distinguish the words; when the man again spoke: + +"No, no; it's all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without an +orderly to send after him. Diable! it _is_ provoking." + +"Isn't that one of your people at the foot of the tower?" said the lady, +as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open, and +close over me; for as he moved his head to look down, I saw the epaulets +of a staff officer. + +"Halloa!" cried he, "are you on duty?" + +"No, sir; I was--" + +Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on, + +"Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road, and +tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned off +to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are +mounted, of course?" + +"No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can--" + +"No, no; it will be too late," he broke in again. "Take my troop horse, +and be off. You'll find him in the stable, to your left." + +Then turning to the lady I heard him say-- + +"It may save Roquelard from an arrest." + +I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had +pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in +the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I +guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door being +unlatched, I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were feeding +at the racks, their glossy coats and long silky manes showing the care +bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I surveyed them +all with keen and scrutinizing eye. All my skill in such matters was +unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable and +handsome--in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of +careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters +"R.F.;" and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful +black horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action, +while the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a +"tartar." Making choice of him without an instant's hesitation, I threw +on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the +bridle, and led him forth. In all my "school experience" I had never +seen an animal that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and +slightly-dipped back showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the +stronger qualities of the Norman horse. I sprung to my saddle with +delight; to be astride such a beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm +of my nature, and as I grasped the reins, and urged him forward, I was +half wild with excitement. + +Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for he +gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will give, +and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me. This +failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and threatening +even to fall backward. I saw that I had, indeed, selected a wicked one; +for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap, the object was +clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would crouch, as if to +lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air, with a toss up of +his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At another he would +spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a fish, till the +saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe body. Not only did I +resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued to punish with whip +and spur the entire time--a proceeding, I could easily see, he was not +prepared for. At last, actually maddened with his inability to throw me, +and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he broke away, and dashing +headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest of the grove. +Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of stunted growth, +so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger; but suddenly +emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if his passion +became more furious as he indulged it, he threw up his head, and struck +out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was heading for the +great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on its brink. A +shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower; but I heard +nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps at that moment +just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his flanks, and +over we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a seagull on a +wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat sobered _him_; but +on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt that I had gained +the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting punishment, then, +I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay straight before me. The +few fences which divided the great fields were too insignificant to be +called leaps, and he took them in the "sling" of his stretching gallop. +He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of my wrist, and obeying +every motive of my will like an instinct. It may read like a petty +victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph over an enraged and +powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are more pleasurably +exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne along in full speed, +leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge and mill behind +you--now careering up the mountain side, with the fresh breeze upon your +brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the hare from her +cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before you--it is still +increased by the sense of a victory, by feeling that the mastery is with +you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath you has its impulse +in your own heart. + +Although the cavalry squadrons I was dispatched to overtake had quitted +Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an hour, and +inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of the +division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man who listened +to my message without changing a muscle. + +"Who sent you with this order?" said he. + +"A general officer, sir, whose name I don't know; but who told me to +take his own horse and follow you." + +"Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir," said he, pointing to the +heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast. + +"He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the +Boulevard, rode away with me." + +"Why it's Colonel Mahon's Arab, 'Aleppo,'" said another officer; "what +could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a best worth ten +thousand francs?" + +I thought I'd have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole +consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest, +trial, sentence, imprisonment, and heaven knew what afterward, like a +panorama rolling out to my view. + +"Tell the colonel, sir," said the major, "that I have taken the north +road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery trains +have cut up the Metz road so deeply that cavalry can not travel; tell +him that I thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this dispatch +to me; and tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should +prevent my sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest, for +the manner in which you have ridden--you hear, sir?" + +I touched my cap in salute. + +"Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?" + +"I am, sir." + +"Repeat it, then." + +I mentioned the reply, word for word, as he spoke it. + +"No, sir," said he, as I concluded; "I said for unsoldierlike and cruel +treatment to your horse." + +One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly +added-- + +"I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done so; +give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first." + +"Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty," muttered one of the captains. + +"I'd not blame him," joined another; "that horse saved his life at +Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!" + +The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set out toward +Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate. + +If I did not feel that these brief records of an humble career were +"upon honor," and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant can +teach is, the conflict between opposing influences, I might possibly be +disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along toward Nancy, a very +great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to desert! It is a +very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were not in the French +service any of those ignominious punishments which, once undergone, a +man is dishonored forever, and no more admissible to rank with men of +character than if convicted of actual crime; but there were marks of +degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and which men dreaded with +a fear nearly as acute--such, for instance, as being ordered for service +at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon--the arduous duty of guarding the +galley slaves, and which was scarcely a degree above the condition of +the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as this, I would willingly +have preferred death. It was, then, this thought that suggested +desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy temptation, and held on my +way toward Nancy. + +Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while he +showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue; and +as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at each +fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths, to give him +freedom, long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his +looks, and much of his spirit. + +At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart, I +found myself at the gate of the Ducal palace. The sentries suffered me +to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the court-yard, +toward the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left it, was +unlatched. + +It was strange enough, the nearer I drew toward the eventful moment of +my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is possible, +thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball through me, as +the officer said. Be it so--the matter is the sooner ended. If, however, +he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I may be able to assert +my innocence, at least so far as intention went. With this comforting +conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two dragoons in undress were +smoking, as they lay at full length upon a bench, and speedily arose as +I came up. + +"Tell the colonel he's come, Jacques," said one, in a loud voice, and +the other retired; while the speaker, turning toward me, took the bridle +from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word to me. + +"An active beast that," said I, affecting the easiest and coolest +indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I +continued, + +"He has had a bad hand on him, I should say--some one too flurried and +too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse." + +Another stare was all the reply. + +"In a little time, and with a little patience, I'd make him as gentle as +a lamb." + +"I am afraid you'll not have the opportunity," replied he, +significantly; "but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can +discuss the matter together." + +The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to follow +him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion, at which a +sentry stood, and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide left me. An +orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and beckoning to me to +advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me forward, let the heavy +folds close behind me; and now I found myself in a richly-furnished +chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was at supper with a +young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax lights on the table--the +glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain--the richness of the lady's +dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball--were all objects +distracting enough, but they could not turn me from the thought of my +own condition; and I stood still and motionless, while the officer, a +man of about fifty, with dark and stern features, deliberately scanned +me from head to foot. Not a word did he speak, not a gesture did he +make, but sat, with his black eyes actually piercing me. I would have +given any thing for some outbreak of anger, some burst of passion, that +would have put an end to this horrible suspense, but none came; and +there he remained several minutes, as if contemplating something too new +and strange for utterance. "This must have an end," thought I--"here +goes;" and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said, + +"I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major +Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was +cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz +Chausse as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of +your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded +his dispatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in +which I had ridden with the order." + +"Any thing more?" asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and +guttural with passion. + +"Nothing more, sir." + +"No further remark or observation?" + +"None, sir--at least from the major." + +"What then--from any other?" + +"A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something." + +"What was it?" + +"I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel +Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back." + +"And you replied?" + +"I don't believe I made any reply at the time, sir." + +"But you thought, sir--what were your thoughts?" + +"I thought it very like what I'd have done myself in a like case, +although certain to be sorry for it afterward." + +Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained, or +that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I can not tell, but the +lady here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly +checked by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features +grew sterner and darker every moment. + +"There we differ, sir," said he, "for _I_ should not." At the same +instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small +portfolio, opening which he prepared to write. + +"You will bring this paper," continued he, "to the 'Prevot Marshal.' +To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and +as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labor--" + +"I'll save them the trouble," said I, quietly drawing my sword; but +scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the lady, +who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant the +colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow upon +the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground. + +"You want the 'fusillade'--is that what you want?" cried he, as, in a +towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now +standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes toward me, and at +once broke out into a burst of laughter; such hearty, merry laughter, +that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined +in it. + +"What is it--what do you mean, Laure?" cried the colonel angrily. + +"Don't you see it?" said she, still holding her kerchief to her +face--"can't you perceive it yourself? He has only one mustache!" + +I turned hastily toward the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal +fact revealed--one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek, +while the other was left bare. + +"Is the fellow mad--a mountebank?" said the colonel, whose anger was now +at its white heat. + +"Neither, sir," said I, tearing off my remaining mustache, in shame and +passion together. "Among my other misfortunes I have that of being +young; and what's worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my +error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity +or temper." + +With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every +glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath +that was only current in the days of that army. "This is beyond belief," +cried he. "Come, gredin, you have at least had one piece of good +fortune: you've fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with +you. Your regiment?" + +"The Ninth Hussars." + +"Your name." + +"Tiernay." + +"Tiernay; that's not a French name?" + +"Not originally; we were Irish once." + +"Irish!" said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used. +"Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in +the Royal Guard?" + +"His son, sir." + +"What--his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother's +name, then; what was it?" + +"I never knew which was my mother," said I. "Mademoiselle de la +Lasterie, or--" + +He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck, +pressed me to his bosom. + +"You are little Maurice, then," said he, "the son of my old and valued +comrade! Only think of it, Laure--I was that boy's godfather." + +Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great +effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated +between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me +with attention. It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a +fellow-guardsman with my father, for whom he had ever preserved the +warmest attachment. One of the few survivors of the "Garde du Corps," he +had taken service with the republic, and was already reputed as one of +the most distinguished cavalry officers. + +"Strange enough, Maurice," said he to me, "there was something in your +look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor +father to my memory; and, without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered +you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have ordered +you to be ironed and sent to prison." + +Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not +speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own +adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the lady +enjoyed all the absurdities of my checkered fortune with a keen sense of +the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but so many +resemblances to my father's character, and constantly broke out into +exclamations of "How like him!" "Just what he would have done himself!" +"His own very words!" and so on. + +It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the +mantle-piece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the +hour, and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next +morning, for absence from quarters. + +"Never fret about that, Maurice, I'll return your name as on a special +service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you shall be +named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal." + +"Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?" said the lady, in a half whisper. +"I'm sure he is better worth his epaulets than any I have seen on your +staff." + +"Nay, nay," muttered the colonel, "the rules of the service forbid it. +He'll win his spurs time enough, or I'm much mistaken." + +While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not +help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual +service; and that, proud as I should be of his protection, I would +rather merit it by my conduct, than owe my advancement to favor. + +"Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and +want to see how men comport themselves where the man[oe]uvres are not +arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all +likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which you +may have advanced a stage or so toward those epaulets my fair friend +desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be sent +forward to your own corps. I'll write to the colonel to confirm the rank +of corporal: the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and, if I +mistake not, will soon be actively employed. Come to me to-morrow, +before noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that +are sent forward." + +A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady having +also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my leave, the +happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after hours, and as +indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of discipline as if +the whole code of martial law were a mere fable. + + +CHAPTER X. + +AN ARISTOCRATIC REPUBLICAN + + +If the worthy reader would wish to fancy the happiest of all youthful +beings, let him imagine what I must have been, as, mounted upon Aleppo, +a present from my godfather, with a purse of six shining Louis in my +pocket, and a letter to my colonel, I set forth for Metz. I had +breakfasted with Colonel Mahon, who, amid much good advice for my future +guidance, gave me, half slyly, to understand that the days of Jacobinism +had almost run their course, and that a reactionary movement had already +set in. The republic, he added, was as strong, perhaps stronger than +ever, but that men had grown weary of mob tyranny, and were, day by day, +reverting to the old loyalty, in respect for whatever pretended to +culture, good breeding, and superior intelligence. "As in a shipwreck, +the crew instinctively turn for counsel and direction to the officers, +you will see that France will, notwithstanding all the libertinism of +our age, place her confidence in the men who have been the tried and +worthy servants of former governments. So far, then, from suffering on +account of your gentle blood, Maurice, the time is not distant when it +will do you good service, and when every association that links you with +family and fortune will be deemed an additional guarantee of your good +conduct. I mention these things," continued he, "because your colonel is +what they call a 'Grosbleu,' that is, a coarse-minded, inveterate +republican, detesting aristocracy and all that belongs to it. Take care, +therefore, to give him no just cause for discontent, but be just as +steady in maintaining your position as the descendant of a noble house, +who has not forgotten what were once the privileges of his rank. Write +to me frequently and freely, and I'll take care that you want for +nothing, so far as my small means go, to sustain whatever grade you +occupy. Your own conduct shall decide whether I ever desire to have any +other inheritor than the son of my oldest friend in the world." + +Such were his last words to me, as I set forth, in company with a large +party, consisting, for the most part, of under officers and employes +attached to the medical staff of the army. It was a very joyous and +merry fraternity, and, consisting of ingredients drawn from different +pursuits and arms of the service, infinitely amusing from contrast of +character and habits. My chief associate among them was a young +sous-lieutenant of dragoons, whose age, scarcely much above my own, +joined to a joyous, reckless temperament, soon pointed him out as the +character to suit me: his name was Eugene Santron. In appearance he was +slightly formed, and somewhat under-sized, but with handsome features, +their animation rendered sparkling by two of the wickedest black eyes +that ever glistened and glittered in a human head. I soon saw that, +under the mask of affected fraternity and equality, he nourished the +most profound contempt for the greater number of associates, who, in +truth, were, however "braves gens," the very roughest and least-polished +specimens of the polite nation. In all his intercourse with them, Eugene +affected the easiest tone of camarader and equality, never assuming in +the slightest, nor making any pretensions to the least superiority on +the score of position or acquirements, but on the whole consoling +himself, as it were, by "playing them off," in their several +eccentricities, and rendering every trait of their vulgarity and +ignorance tributary to his own amusement. Partly from seeing that he +made me an exception to this practice, and partly from his perceiving +the amusement it afforded me, we drew closer toward each other, and +before many days elapsed, had become sworn friends. + +There is probably no feature of character so very attractive to a young +man as frankness. The most artful of all flatteries is that which +addresses itself by candor, and seems at once to select, as it were, by +intuition, the object most suited fur a confidence. Santron carried me +by a _coup de main_ of this kind, as taking my arm one evening, as I was +strolling along the banks of the Moselle, he said, + +"My dear Maurice, it's very easy to see that the society of our +excellent friends yonder is just as distasteful to you as to me. One can +not always be satisfied laughing at their solecisms in breeding and +propriety. One grows weary at last of ridiculing their thousand +absurdities; and then there comes the terrible retribution in the +reflection of what the devil brought me into such company? a question +that, however easily answered, grows more and more intolerable the +oftener it is asked. To be sure, in my case there was little choice in +the matter, for I was not in any way the arbiter of my own fortune. I +saw myself converted from a royal page to a printer's devil by a kind +old fellow, who saved my life by smearing my face with ink, and covering +my scarlet uniform with a filthy blouse; and since that day I have +taken the hint, and often found the lesson a good one--the dirtier the +safer! + +"We were of the old nobility of France, but as the name of our family +was the cause of its extinction, I took care to change it. I see you +don't clearly comprehend me, and so I'll explain myself better. My +father lived unmolested during the earlier days of the revolution, and +might so have continued to the end, if a detachment of the Garde +Republicaine had not been dispatched to our neighborhood of Sarre Louis, +where it was supposed some lurking regard for royalty yet lingered. +These fellows neither knew nor cared for the ancient noblesse of the +country, and one evening a patrol of them stopped my father as he was +taking his evening walk along the ramparts. He would scarcely deign to +notice the insolent 'Qui va la!' of the sentry, a summons _he_ at least +thought superfluous in a town which had known his ancestry for eight or +nine generations. At the repetition of the cry, accompanied by something +that sounded ominous, in the sharp click of a gun-lock, he replied, +haughtily, 'Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trone.' + +"'There are no more marquises in France!' was the savage answer. + +"My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said, 'Saint-Trone.' + +"'We have no saints either,' cried another. + +"'Be it so, my friend,' said he, with mingled pity and disgust. 'I +suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may call +myself Trone.' + +"'We are done with thrones long ago,' shouted they in chorus, 'and we'll +finish you also.' + +"Ay, and they kept their word, too. They shot him that same evening, on +very little other charge than his own name! If I have retained the old +sound of my name, I have given it a more plebeian spelling, which is, +perhaps, just as much of an alteration as any man need submit to for a +period that will pass away so soon." + +"How so, Eugene? you fancy the republic will not endure in France. What, +then, can replace it?" + +"Any thing, every thing; for the future all is possible. We have +annihilated legitimacy, it is true, just as the Indians destroy a +forest, by burning the trees, but the roots remain, and if the soil is +incapable of sending up the giant stems as before, it is equally unable +to furnish a new and different culture. Monarchy is just as firmly +rooted in a Frenchman's heart, but he will have neither patience for its +tedious growth, nor can he submit to restore what has cost him so dearly +to destroy. The consequences will, therefore, be a long and continued +struggle between parties, each imposing upon the nation the form of +government that pleases it in turn. Meanwhile, you and I, and others +like us, must serve whatever is uppermost--the cleverest fellow he who +sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it." + +"Then are you a royalist?" asked I. + +"A royalist! what! stand by a monarch who deserted his aristocracy, and +forgot his own order; defend a throne that he had reduced to the +condition of a fauteuil de Bourgeois?" + +"You are then for the republic?" + +"For what robbed me of my inheritance--what degraded me from my rank, +and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a cause +to uphold?" + +"You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps," said I, scarcely +knowing what form of faith to attribute to him. + +"In an army where my superiors are the very dregs of the people; where +the canaille have the command, and the chivalry of France is represented +by a sans-culotte!" + +"The cause of the Church--" + +A burst of ribald laughter cut me short, and laying his hand on my +shoulder, he looked me full in the face, while, with a struggle to +recover his gravity he said, + +"I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not mean +this for earnest! Why, my dear boy, don't you talk of the Eleusinian +Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle, of Alchemy, Astrology--of any thing, in +short, of which the world, having amused itself, has, at length, grown +weary? Can't you see that the Church has passed away, and these good +priests have gone the same road as their predecessors. Is any acuteness +wanting to show that there is an end of this superstition that has +enthralled men's minds for a couple of thousand years? No, no, their +game is up, and forever. These pious men, who despised this world, and +yet had no other hold upon the minds of others than by the very craft +and subtlety that world taught them. These heavenly souls, whose whole +machinations revolved about earthly objects and the successes of this +groveling planet! Fight for _them_! No, _parbleu_; we owe them but +little love or affection. Their whole aim in life has been to disgust +one with whatever is enjoyable, and the best boon they have conferred +upon humanity, that bright thought, of locking up the softest eyes and +fairest cheeks of France in cloisters and nunneries! I can forgive our +glorious revolution much of its wrong when I think of the Prtre; not +but that they could have knocked down the Church without suffering the +ruins to crush the chateau!" + +Such, in brief, were the opinions my companion held, and of which I was +accustomed to hear specimens every day; at first, with displeasure and +repugnance; later on, with more of toleration; and, at last, with a +sense of amusement at the singularity of the notions, or the dexterity +with which he defended them. The poison of his doctrines was the more +insidious, because, mingled with a certain dash of good nature, and a +reckless, careless easiness of disposition, always attractive to very +young men. His reputation for courage, of which he had given signal +proofs, elevated him in my esteem; and, ere long, all my misgivings +about him, in regard of certain blemishes, gave way before my admiration +of his heroic bearing, and a readiness to confront peril, wherever to +be found. + +I had made him the confidant of my own history, of which I told him +every thing, save the passages which related to the Pre Michel. These I +either entirely glossed over, or touched so lightly as to render +unimportant: a dread of ridicule restraining me from any mention of +those earlier scenes of my life, which were alone of all those I should +have avowed with pride. Perhaps it was from mere accident--perhaps some +secret shame to conceal my forlorn and destitute condition may have had +its share in the motive; but, for some cause or other, I gave him to +understand that my acquaintance with Colonel Mahon had dated back to a +much earlier period than a few days before, and, the impression once +made, a sense of false shame led me to support it. + +"Mahon can be a good friend to you," said Eugene; "he stands well with +all parties. The Convention trust him, the sansculottes are afraid of +him, and the few men of family whom the guillotine has left look up to +him as one of their stanchest adherents. Depend upon it, therefore, your +promotion is safe enough, even if there were not a field open for every +man who seeks the path to eminence. The great point, however, is to get +service with the army of Italy. These campaigns here are as barren and +profitless as the soil they are fought over; but, in the south, Maurice, +in the land of dark eyes and tresses, under the blue skies, or beneath +the trelliced vines, there are rewards of victory more glorious than a +grateful country, as they call it, ever bestowed. Never forget, my boy, +that you or I have no Cause! It is to us a matter of indifference what +party triumphs, or who is uppermost. The government may change +to-morrow, and the day after, and so on for a month long, and yet _we_ +remain just as we were. Monarchy, Commonwealth, Democracy--what you +will--may rule the hour, but the sous-lieutenant is but the servant who +changes his master. Now, in revenge for all this, we have one +compensation, which is, to 'live for the day.' To make the most of that +brief hour of sunshine granted us, and to taste of every pleasure, to +mingle in every dissipation, and enjoy every excitement that we can. +This is my philosophy, Maurice, and just try it." + +Such was the companion with whom chance threw me in contact, and I +grieve to think how rapidly his influence gained the mastery over me. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE PASSAGE OF THE RHINE." + + +I parted from my friend Eugene at Treves, where he remained in garrison, +while I was sent forward to Coblentz to join my regiment, at that time +forming part of Ney's division. + +Were I to adhere in my narrative to the broad current of great events, I +should here have to speak of that grand scheme of tactics by which +Kleber, advancing from the Lower Rhine, engaged the attention of the +Austrian Grand Duke, in order to give time and opportunity for Hoche's +passage of the river at Strasbourg, and the commencement of that +campaign which had for its object the subjugation of Germany. I have +not, however, the pretension to chronicle those passages which history +has forever made memorable, even were my own share in them of a more +distinguished character. The insignificance of my station must, +therefore, be my apology if I turn from the description of great and +eventful incidents to the humble narrative of my own career. + +Whatever the contents of Colonel Mahon's letter, they did not plead very +favorably for me with Colonel Hacque, my new commanding officer; +neither, to all seeming, did my own appearance weigh any thing in my +favor. Raising his eyes at intervals from the letter to stare at me, he +uttered some broken phrases of discontent and displeasure; at last he +said--"What's the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you +presented it to me?" + +"As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel," said I calmly, "I can +scarcely answer the question." + +"Well, sir, it informs me that you are the son of a certain Count +Tiernay; who has long since paid the price of his nobility; and that +being a special protg of the writer, he takes occasion to present you +to me; now I ask again, with what object?" + +"I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honor which I now enjoy--to become +personally known to you." + +"I know every soldier under my command, sir," said he, rebukingly, "as +you will soon learn if you remain in my regiment. I have no need of +recommendatory letters on that score. As to your grade of corporal, it +is not confirmed; time enough when your services shall have shown that +you deserve promotion. Parbleu, sir, you'll have to show other claims +than your ci-devant countship." + +"Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir, may I be permitted to retain him as +a regimental mount?" asked I, timidly. + +"We want horses--what is he like?" + +"Three quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir." + +"Then of course, unfit for service and field man[oe]uvres. Send him to +the Etat Major. The Republic will find a fitting mount for _you_; you +may retire." + +And I did retire, with a heart almost bursting between anger and +disappointment. What a future did this opening present to me! What a +realization this of all my flattering hopes! + +This sudden reverse of fortune, for it was nothing less, did not render +me more disposed to make the best of my new condition, nor see in the +most pleasing light the rough and rude fraternity among which I was +thrown. The Ninth Hussars were reputed to be an excellent service-corps, +but, off duty, contained some of the worst ingredients of the army. +Play, and its consequence dueling, filled up every hour not devoted to +regimental duty; and low as the tone of manners and morals stood in the +service generally, "Hacques Tapageurs," as they were called, enjoyed the +unflattering distinction of being the leaders. Self-respect was a +quality utterly unknown among them--none felt ashamed at the disgrace of +punishment--and as all knew that, at the approach of the enemy, prison +doors would open, and handcuffs fall off, they affected to think the +Salle de Police was a pleasant alternative to the fatigue and worry of +duty. These habits not only stripped soldiering of all its chivalry, but +robbed freedom itself of all its nobility. These men saw nothing but +licentiousness in their newly-won liberty. Their "Equality" was the +permission to bring every thing down to a base and unworthy standard; +their "Fraternity," the appropriation of what belonged to one richer +than themselves. + +It would give me little pleasure to recount, and the reader, in all +likelihood, as little to hear, the details of my life among such +associates. They are the passages of my history most painful to recall, +and least worthy of being remembered; nor can I even yet write without +shame the confession, how rapidly _their_ habits became _my own_. +Eugene's teachings had prepared me, in a manner, for their lessons. His +skepticism extending to every thing and every one, had made me +distrustful of all friendship, and suspicious of whatever appeared a +kindness. Vulgar association, and daily intimacy with coarsely-minded +men, soon finished what he had begun; and in less time than it took me +to break my troop-horse to regimental drill, I had been myself "broke +in" to every vice and abandoned habit of my companions. + +It was not in my nature to do things by halves; and thus I became, and +in a brief space too, the most inveterate Tapageur of the whole +regiment. There was not a wild prank or plot in which I was not +foremost, not a breach of the discipline unaccompanied by my name or +presence, and more than half the time of our march to meet the enemy, I +passed in double irons under the guard of the Provost-marshal. + +It was at this pleasant stage of my education that our brigade arrived +in Strasbourg, as part of the corps d'arme under the command of General +Moreau. + +He had just succeeded to the command on the dismissal of Pichegru, and +found the army not only dispirited by the defeats of the past campaign, +but in a state of rudest indiscipline and disorganization. If left to +himself, he would have trusted much to time and circumstances for the +reform of abuses that had been the growth of many months long. But +Regnier, the second in command, was made of "different stuff;" he was a +harsh and stern disciplinarian, who rarely forgave a first, never a +second offense, and who deeming the Salle de Police as an incumbrance to +an army on service, which, besides, required a guard of picked men, +that might be better employed elsewhere, usually gave the preference to +the shorter sentence of "four spaces and a fusillade." Nor was he +particular in the classification of those crimes he thus expiated: from +the most trivial excess to the wildest scheme of insubordination, all +came under the one category. More than once, as we drew near to +Strasbourg, I heard the project of a mutiny discussed, day after day. +Some one or other would denounce the "scelerat Regnier," and proclaim +his readiness to be the executioner; but the closer we drew to +head-quarters, the more hushed and subdued became these mutterings, till +at last they ceased altogether; and a dark and forboding dread succeeded +to all our late boastings and denunciations. + +This at first surprised and then utterly disgusted me with my +companions. Brave as they were before the enemy, had they no courage for +their own countrymen? Was all their valor the offspring of security, or +could they only be rebellious when the penalty had no terrors for them? +Alas! I was very young, and did not then know that men are never strong +against the right, and that a bad cause is always a weak one. + +It was about the middle of June when we reached Strasbourg, where now +about forty thousand troops were assembled. I shall not readily forget +the mingled astonishment and disappointment our appearance excited as +the regiment entered the town. The Tapageurs, so celebrated for all +their terrible excesses and insubordination, were seen to be a fine +corps of soldier-like fellows, their horses in high condition, their +equipments and arms in the very best order. Neither did our conduct at +all tally with the reputation that preceded us. All was orderly and +regular in the several billets; the parade was particularly observed; +not a man late at the night muster. What was the cause of this sudden +and remarkable change? Some said we were marching against the enemy; but +the real explanation lay in a few words of a general order read to us by +our colonel the day before we entered the city: + +"The 9th Hussars have obtained the unworthy reputation of being an +ill-disciplined and ill-conducted regiment, relying upon their +soldier-like qualities in face of the enemy to cover the disgrace +of-their misconduct in quarters. This is a mistake that must be +corrected. All Frenchmen are brave; none can arrogate to themselves any +prerogative of valor. If any wish to establish such a belief, a campaign +can always attest it. If any profess to think so without such proof, and +acting in conformity with this impression, disobey their orders or +infringe regimental discipline, I will have them shot. + + "REGNIER, + "_Adjutant-general_." + +This was, at least, a very straight-forward and intelligible +announcement, and as such my comrades generally acknowledged it. I, +however regarded it as a piece of monstrous and intolerable tyranny, +and sought to make converts to my opinion by declaiming about the rights +of Frenchmen, the liberty of free discussion, the glorious privilege of +equality, and so on; but these arguments sounded faint in presence of +the drum-head; and while some slunk away from the circle around me, +others significantly hinted that they would accept no part of the danger +my doctrines might originate. + +However I might have respected my comrades, had they been always the +well-disciplined body I now saw them, I confess, that this sudden +conversion from fear, was in nowise to my taste, and rashly confounded +their dread of punishment with a base and ignoble fear of death. "And +these are the men," thought I, "who talk of their charging home through +the dense squares of Austria--who have hunted the leopard into the sea! +and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps!" + +A bold rebel, whatever may be the cause against which he revolts, will +always be sure of a certain ascendency. Men are prone to attribute power +to pretension, and he who stands foremost in the breach will at least +win the suffrages of those whose cause he assumes to defend. In this way +if happened that exactly as my comrades fell in my esteem, I was +elevated in theirs; and while I took a very depreciating estimate of +their courage, _they_ conceived a very exalted opinion of mine. + +It was altogether inexplicable to see these men, many of them the +bronzed veterans of a dozen campaigns--the wounded and distinguished +soldiers in many a hard-fought field, yielding up their opinions and +sacrificing their convictions to a raw and untried stripling, who had +never yet seen an enemy. + +With a certain fluency of speech I possessed also a readiness at picking +up information, and arraying the scattered fragments of news into a +certain consistence, which greatly imposed upon my comrades. A quick eye +for man[oe]uvres, and a shrewd habit of combining in my own mind the +various facts that came before me, made me appear to them a perfect +authority on military matters, of which I talked, I shame to say, with +all the confidence and presumption of an accomplished general. A few +lucky guesses, and a few half hints, accidentally confirmed, completed +all that was wanting; and what says "Le Jeune Maurice," was the +inevitable question that followed each piece of flying gossip, or every +rumor that rose of a projected movement. + +I have seen a good deal of the world since that time, and I am bound to +confess, that not a few of the great reputations I have witnessed, have +stood upon grounds very similar, and not a whit more stable than my own. +A bold face, a ready tongue, a promptness to support, with my right +hand, whatever my lips were pledged to, and, above all, good luck, made +me the king of my company; and although that sovereignty only extended +to half a squadron of hussars, it was a whole universe to me. + +So stood matters when, on the 23d of June, orders came for the whole +_corps d'arme_ to hold itself in readiness for a forward movement. +Rations for two days were distributed, and ammunition given out, as if +for an attack of some duration. Meanwhile, to obviate any suspicion of +our intentions, the gates of Strasbourg, on the eastern side, were +closed--all egress in that direction forbidden--and couriers and +estafettes sent off toward the north, as if to provide for the march of +our force in that direction. The arrival of various orderly dragoons +during the previous night, and on that morning early, told of a great +attack in force on Manheim, about sixty miles lower down the Rhine, and +the cannonade of which some avowed that they could hear at that +distance. The rumor, therefore, seemed confirmed, that we were ordered +to move to the north, to support this assault. + +The secret dispatch of a few dismounted dragoons and some rifle-men to +the banks of the Rhine, however, did not strike me as according with +this view, and particularly as I saw that, although all were equipped, +and in readiness to move, the order to march was not given, a delay very +unlikely to be incurred, if we were destined to act as the reserve of +the force already engaged. + +Directly opposite to us, on the right bank of the river, and separated +from it by a low flat, of about two miles in extent, stood the fortress +of Kehl, at that time garrisoned by a strong Austrian force; the banks +of the river, and the wooded islands in the stream, which communicated +with the right by bridges, or fordable passes, being also held by the +enemy in force. + +These we had often seen, by the aid of telescopes, from the towers and +spires of Strasbourg; and now I remarked that the general and his staff +seemed more than usually intent on observing their movements. This fact, +coupled with the not less significant one, that no preparations for a +defense of Strasbourg were in progress, convinced me that, instead of +moving down the Rhine to the attack on Manheim, the plan of our general +was, to cross the river where we were, and make a dash at the fortress +of Kehl. I was soon to receive the confirmation of my suspicion, as the +orders came for two squadrons of the ninth to proceed, dismounted, to +the bank of the Rhine, and, under shelter of the willows, to conceal +themselves there. Taking possession of the various skiffs and fishing +boats along the bank, we were distributed in small parties, to one of +which, consisting of eight men under the orders of a corporal, I +belonged. + +About an hour's march brought us to the river side, in a little clump of +alder willows, where, moored to a stake, lay a fishing boat with two +short oars in her. Lying down beneath the shade, for the afternoon was +hot and sultry, some of us smoked, some chatted, and a few dozed away +the hours that somehow seemed unusually slow in passing. + +There was a certain dogged sullenness about my companions, which +proceeded from their belief, that we and all who remained at Strasbourg, +were merely left to occupy the enemy's attention, while greater +operations were to be carried on elsewhere. + +"You see what it is to be a condemned corps," muttered one; "it's little +matter what befalls the old ninth, even should they be cut to pieces." + +"They didn't think so at Enghein," said another, "when we rode down the +Austrian cuirassiers." + +"Plain enough," cried a third, "we are to have skirmishers' duty here, +without skirmishers' fortune in having a force to fall back upon." + +"Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?" broke in +a fourth ironically. + +"I'm of the same mind still," rejoined I, coolly, "the general is not +thinking of a retreat; he has no intention of deserting a +well-garrisoned, well-provisioned fortress. Let the attack on Manheim +have what success it may, Strasbourg will be held still. I overheard +Colonel Guyon remark, that the waters of the Rhine have fallen three +feet since the drought set in, and Regnier replied, 'that we must lose +no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.' Now what could +that mean, but the intention to cross over yonder?" + +"Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!" broke in the corporal. + +"The French army have done bolder things before now!" was my reply, and +whatever the opinion of my comrades, the flattery ranged them on _my_ +side. Perhaps the corporal felt it beneath his dignity to discuss +tactics with an inferior, or perhaps he felt unable to refute the +specious pretensions I advanced; in any case he turned away, and either +slept, or affected sleep, while I strenuously labored to convince my +companions that my surmise was correct. + +I repeated all my former arguments about the decrease in the Rhine, +showing that the river was scarcely two-thirds of its habitual breadth, +that the nights were now dark, and well suited for a surprise, that the +columns which issued from the town took their departure with a pomp and +parade far more likely to attract the enemy's attention than escape his +notice, and were, therefore, the more likely to be destined for some +secret expedition, of which all this display was but the blind. These, +and similar facts, I grouped together with a certain ingenuity, which, +if it failed to convince, at least silenced my opponents. And now the +brief twilight, if so short a struggle between day and darkness deserved +the name, passed off, and night suddenly closed around us--a night black +and starless, for a heavy mass of lowering cloud seemed to unite with +the dense vapor that arose from the river, and the low-lying grounds +alongside of it. The air was hot and sultry, too, like the precursor of +a thunder-storm, and the rush of the stream as it washed among the +willows sounded preternaturally loud in the stillness. + +A hazy, indistinct flame, the watch-fire of the enemy, on the island of +Eslar, was the only object visible in the murky darkness. After a while, +however, we could detect another fire on a smaller island, a short +distance higher up the stream. This, at first dim and uncertain, blazed +up after a while, and at length we descried the dark shadows of men as +they stood around it. + +It was but the day before that I had been looking on a map of the Rhine, +and remarked to myself that this small island, little more than a mere +rook in the stream, was so situated as to command the bridge between +Eslar and the German bank, and I could not help wondering that the +Austrians had never taken the precaution to strengthen it, or at least +place a gun there, to enfilade the bridge. Now, to my extreme +astonishment, I saw it occupied by the soldiery, who, doubtless, were +artillery, as in such a position small arms would prove of slight +efficiency. As I reflected over this, wondering within myself if any +intimation of our movements could have reached the enemy, I heard along +the ground on which I was lying the peculiar tremulous, dull sound +communicated by a large body of men marching. The measured tramp could +not be mistaken, and as I listened I could perceive that a force was +moving toward the river from different quarters. The rumbling roll of +heavy guns and the clattering noise of cavalry were also easily +distinguished, and awaking one of my comrades I called his attention to +the sounds. + +"Parbleu!" said he, "thou'rt right; they're going to make a dash at the +fortress, and there will be hot work ere morning. What say you now, +corporal, has Maurice hit it off this time?" + +"That's as it may be," growled the other, sulkily; "guessing is easy +work ever for such as thee! but if he be so clever, let him tell us why +are we stationed along the river's bank in small detachments. We have +had no orders to observe the enemy, nor to report upon any thing that +might go forward; nor do I see with what object we were to secure the +fishing boats; troops could never be conveyed across the Rhine in skin's +like these!" + +"I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen +giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack," replied I. + +"Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided on," +said he, contemptuously. "For a fellow that never saw the smoke of an +enemy's gun thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!" + +"Yonder is the best answer to your taunt," said I, as in a little bend +of the stream beside us, two boats were seen to pull under the shelter +of the tall alders, from which the clank of arms could be plainly heard; +and now another larger launch swept past, the dark shadows of a dense +crowd of men showing above the gunwale. + +"They are embarking, they are certainly embarking," now ran from mouth +to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river's bank they were speedily +"told off" in separate divisions of which some were to lead the attack, +others to follow, and a third portion to remain as a reserve in the +event of a repulse. + +The leading boat was manned entirely by volunteers, and I could hear +from where I lay the names called aloud as the men stepped out from the +ranks. I could hear that the first point of attack was the island of +Eslar. So far there was a confirmation of my own guessing, and I did not +hesitate to assume the full credit of my skill from my comrades. In +truth, they willingly conceded all or even more than I asked for. Not a +stir was heard, not a sight seen, not a movement made of which I was not +expected to tell the cause and the import; and knowing that to sustain +my influence there was nothing for it but to affect a thorough +acquaintance with every thing, I answered all their questions boldly and +unhesitatingly. I need scarcely observe that the corporal in comparison +sunk into down-right insignificance. He had already shown himself a +false guide, and none asked his opinion further, and I became the ruling +genius of the hour. The embarkation now went briskly forward, several +light field guns were placed in the boats, and two or three large rafts, +capable of containing two companies each, were prepared to be towed +across by boats. + +Exactly as the heavy hammer of the cathedral struck one, the first boat +emerged from the willows, and darting rapidly forward, headed for the +middle of the stream; another and another in quick succession followed, +and speedily were lost to us in the gloom; and now, two four-oared +skiffs stood out together, having a raft, with two guns, in tow; by some +mischance, however, they got entangled in a side current, and the raft +swerving to one side, swept past the boats, carrying them down the +stream along with it. Our attention was not suffered to dwell on this +mishap, for at the same moment the flash and rattle of fire-arms told us +the battle had begun. Two or three isolated shots were first heard, and +then a sharp platoon fire, accompanied by a wild cheer, that we well +knew came from our own fellows. One deep mellow boom of a large gun +resounded amid the crash, and a slight streak of flame, higher up the +stream, showed that the shot came from the small island I have already +spoken of. + +"Listen, lads," said I, "that came from the 'Fels Insel.' If they are +firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer sorely +from it. By Jove there is a crash!" + +As I was speaking a rattling noise like the sound of clattering timber +was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was hushed. + +"Let's at them, boys; they can't be much above our own number. The +island is a mere rock," cried I to my comrades. + +"Who commands this party?" said the corporal, "you or I?" + +"You, if you lead us against the enemy," said I; "but I'll take it if +my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads--yes or +no--now is the time to speak." + +"We're ready," cried three, springing forward, with one impulse. + +At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their places, +and then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, leaving the +corporal alone on the bank. + +"Come along, corporal," cried I, "we'll win your epaulets for you;" but +he turned away without a word; and not waiting further, I pushed out the +skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream. + +"Pull steady, boys, and silently," said I; "we must gain the middle of +the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once +beneath the trees, we'll give them a volley, and then the bayonet. +Remember, lads, no flinching; it's as well to die here as be shot by old +Regnier to-morrow." + +The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its height. +The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from time to +time, streaked the darkness above the river. + +"Stronger and together, boys--once more--there it is--we are in the +current, now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines--see that the +priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusilade. Lie still +now, and wait for the word to fire." + +The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads as I +spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly on +till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered up +the little cliff; and as we reached the top, beheld immediately beneath +us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a gun, which +they were busy in adjusting. I looked right and left to see that my +little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more, gave the +order--fire! + +We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The +terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled +from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow +part of the stream, between the island and the right bank. + +Our prize was a brass eight pounder, and an ample supply of ammunition. +The gun was pointed toward the middle of the stream, where the current +being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed; and in all +likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already experienced its +fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on the Eslar bridge, +was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three of our little party +kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the others loaded the gun +and prepared to fire. + +Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could judge +from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards; and as we +had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our position was +admirable. + +"Wait patiently, lads," said I, restraining, with difficulty, the +burning ardor of my men. "Wait patiently, till the retreat has commenced +over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on the island: +to fire upon them there, would be to risk our own men as much as the +enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the brushwood: +and listen to the cheering now. That was a French cheer! and there goes +another! Look! look, the bridge is darkening already! That was a +bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now, lads--now!" + +As I spoke; the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the +crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and +splintered the wood-work in all directions. + +"The range is perfect, lads," cried I. "Load and fire with all speed." + +Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told how +the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of my +heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to load +faster. + +Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and the +seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down went +the densely crowded column into the Rhine; at the same instant, the guns +of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which soon +were swept clean of the enemy. + +High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could see +the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the Rhine +had been effected, and we now prepared to follow. + +_To be continued._ + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +AN AERIAL VOYAGE. + + +Of all the wonderful discoveries which modern science has given birth +to, there is perhaps not one which has been applied to useful purposes +on a scale so unexpectedly contracted as that by which we are enabled to +penetrate into the immense ocean of air with which our globe is +surrounded, and to examine the physical phenomena which are manifested +in its upper strata. One would have supposed that the moment the power +was conferred upon us to leave the surface of the earth, and rise above +the clouds into the superior regions, a thousand eager inquirers would +present themselves as agents in researches in a region so completely +untrodden, if such a term may here be permitted. + +Nevertheless, this great invention of aerial navigation has remained +almost barren. If we except the celebrated aerial voyage of Gay-Lussac +in 1804, the balloon, with its wonderful powers, has been allowed to +degenerate into a mere theatrical exhibition, exciting the vacant and +unreflecting wonder of the multitude. Instead of being an instrument of +philosophical research, it has become a mere expedient for profit in +the hands of charlatans, so much so, that, on the occasion to which we +are now about to advert, the persons who engaged in the project incurred +failure, and risked their lives, from their aversion to avail themselves +of the experience of those who had made aerostation a mere spectacle for +profit. They thought that to touch pitch they must be defiled, and +preferred danger and the risk of failure to such association. + +It is now about two months since M. Barral, a chemist of some +distinction at Paris, and M. Bixio, a member of the Legislative Assembly +(whose name will be remembered in connection with the bloody +insurrection of June, 1848, when, bravely and humanely discharging his +duty in attempting to turn his guilty fellow-citizens from their course, +he nearly shared the fate of the Archbishop, and was severely wounded), +resolved upon making a grand experiment with a view to observe and +record the meteorological phenomena of the strata of the atmosphere, at +a greater height and with more precision than had hitherto been +accomplished. But from the motives which we have explained, the project +was kept secret, and it was resolved that the experiment should be made +at an hour of the morning, and under circumstances, which would prevent +it from degenerating into an exhibition. MM. Arago and Regnault +undertook to supply the aerial voyagers with a programme of the proposed +performance, and instruments suited to the projected observations. M. +Arago prepared the programme, in which was stated clearly what +observations were to be made at every stage of the ascentional movement. + +It was intended that the balloon should be so managed as to come to rest +at certain altitudes, when barometric, thermometric, hygrometric, +polariscopic, and other observations, were to be taken and noted; the +balloon after each series of observations to make a new ascent. + +The precious instruments by which these observations were to be made +were prepared, and in some cases actually fabricated and graduated, by +the hands of M. Regnault himself. + +To provide the balloon and its appendages, recourse was had to some of +those persons who have followed the fabrication of balloons as a sort of +trade, for the purposes of exhibition. + +In this part of their enterprise the voyagers were not so fortunate, as +we shall presently see, and still less so in having taken the resolution +to ascend alone, unaccompanied by a practiced ronaut. It is probable +that if they had selected a person, such as Mr. Green, for example, who +had already made frequent ascents for the mere purpose of exhibition, +and who had become familiar with the practical management of the +machine, a much more favorable result would have ensued. As it was, the +two voyagers ascended for the first time, and placed themselves in a +position like that of a natural philosopher, who, without previous +practice, should undertake to drive a locomotive, with its train on a +railway at fifty miles an hour, rejecting the humble but indispensable +aid of an experienced engine-driver. + +The necessary preparations having been made, and the programme and the +instruments prepared, it was resolved to make the ascent from the garden +behind the Observatory at Paris, a plateau of some elevation, and free +from buildings and other obstacles, at day-break of Saturday, the 29th +June. At midnight the balloon was brought to the spot, but the inflation +was not completed until nearly 10 o'clock, A.M. + +It has since been proved that the balloon was old and worn, and that it +ought not to have been supplied for such an occasion. + +It was obviously patched, and it is now known that two seamstresses were +employed during the preceding day in mending it, and some stitching even +was found necessary after it had arrived at the Observatory. + +The net-work which included and supported the car was new, and not +originally made with a view to the balloon it inclosed, the consequences +of which will be presently seen. + +The night, between Friday and Saturday, was one of continual rain, and +the balloon and its netting became thoroughly saturated with moisture. +By the time the inflation had been completed, it became evident that the +net-work was too small; but in the anxiety to carry into effect the +project, the consequences of this were most unaccountably overlooked. We +say unaccountably, because it is extremely difficult to conceive how +experimental philosophers and practiced observers, like MM. Arago and +Regnault, to say nothing of numerous subordinate scientific agents who +were present, did not anticipate what must have ensued in the upper +regions of the air. Nevertheless, such was the fact. + +On the morning of Saturday, the instruments being duly deposited in the +car, the two enterprising voyagers placed themselves in it, and the +balloon, which previously had been held down by the strength of twenty +men, was liberated, and left to plunge into the ocean of air, at +twenty-seven minutes after ten o'clock. + +The weather, as we have already stated, was unfavorable, the sky being +charged with clouds. As it was the purpose of this project to examine +much higher regions of the atmosphere than those which it had been +customary for aeronautic exhibitors to rise to, the arrangements of +ballast and inflation which were adopted, were such as to cause the +ascent to be infinitely more rapid than in the case of public +exhibitions; in short, the balloon darted upward with the speed of an +arrow, and in two minutes from the moment it was liberated, that is to +say, at twenty-nine minutes past ten, plunged into the clouds, and was +withdrawn from the anxious view of the distinguished persons assembled +in the garden of the Observatory. + +While passing through this dense cloud, the voyagers carefully observed +the barometer, and knew by the rapid fall of the mercury that they were +ascending with a great velocity. Fifteen minutes elapsed before they +emerged from the cloud; when they did so, however, a glorious spectacle +presented itself. The balloon, emerging from the superior surface of the +cloud, rose under a splendid canopy of azure, and shone with the rays of +a brilliant sun. The cloud which they had just passed, was soon seen +several thousand feet below them. From the observations taken with the +barometer and thermometer, it was afterward found that the thickness of +the cloud through which they had passed, was 9800 feet--a little less +than two miles. On emerging from the cloud, our observers examined the +barometer, and found that the mercury had fallen to the height of 18 +inches; the thermometer showed a temperature of 45 Fahr. The height of +the balloon above the level of the sea was then 14,200 feet. At the +moment of emerging from the cloud, M. Barral made polariscopic +observation, which established a fact foreseen by M. Arago, that the +light reflected from the surface of the clouds, was unpolarized light. + +The continued and somewhat considerable fall of the barometer informed +the observers that their ascent still continued to be rapid. The rain +which had previously fallen, and which wetted the balloon, and saturated +the cordage forming the net-work, had now ceased, or, to speak more +correctly, the balloon had passed above the region in which the rain +prevailed. The strong action of the sun, and almost complete dryness of +the air in which the vast machine now floated, caused the evaporation of +the moisture which enveloped it. The cordage and the balloon becoming +dry, and thus relieved of a certain weight of liquid, was affected as +though a quantity of ballast had been thrown out, and it darted upward +with increased velocity. + +It was within one minute of eleven, when the observers finding the +barometer cease the upward motion, and finding that the machine +oscillated round a position of equilibrium by noticing the bearing of +the sun, they found the epoch favorable for another series of +observations. The barometer there indicated that the balloon had +attained the enormous height of 19,700 feet. The moisture which had +invested the thermometer had frozen upon it, and obstructed, for the +moment, observations with it. It was while M. Barral was occupied in +wiping the icicles from it, that, turning his eye upward, he beheld what +would have been sufficient to have made the stoutest heart quail with +fear. + +To explain the catastrophe which at this moment, and at nearly 20,000 +feet above the surface of the earth, and about a mile above the highest +strata of the clouds, menaced the voyagers, we must recur to what we +have already stated in reference to the balloon and the net-work. As it +was intended to ascend to an unusual altitude, it was of course known, +that in consequence of the highly rarefied state of the atmosphere, and +its very much diminished pressure, the gas contained in the balloon +would have a great tendency to distend, and, consequently, space must be +allowed for the play of this effect. The balloon, therefore, at +starting, was not nearly filled with gas, and yet, as we have explained +it, very nearly filled the net-work which inclosed it. Is it not strange +that some among the scientific men present did not foresee, that when it +would ascend into a highly rarefied atmosphere, it would necessarily +distend itself to such a magnitude, that the netting would be utterly +insufficient to contain it? Such effect, so strangely unforeseen, now +disclosed itself practically realized to the astonished and terrified +eyes of M. Barral. + +The balloon, in fact, had so swelled as not only completely to fill the +netting which covered it, but to force its way, in a frightful manner, +through the hoop under it, from which the car, and the voyagers were +suspended. + +In short, the inflated silk protruding downward through the hoop, now +nearly touched the heads of the voyagers. In this emergency the remedy +was sufficiently obvious. + +The valve must be opened, and the balloon breathed, so as to relieve it +from the over-inflation. Now, it is well known, that the valve in this +machine is placed in a sort of sleeve, of a length more or less +considerable, connected with the lower part of the balloon, through +which sleeve the string-of the valve passes. M. Barral, on looking for +this sleeve, found that it had disappeared. Further search showed that +the balloon being awkwardly and improperly placed in the inclosing +net-work, the valve-sleeve, instead of hanging clear of the hoop, had +been gathered up in the net-work above the hoop; so that, to reach it, +it would have been necessary to have forced a passage between the +inflated silk and the hoop. + +Now, here it must be observed, that such an incident could never have +happened to the most commonly-practiced balloon exhibitor, whose first +measure, before leaving the ground, would be to secure access to, and +the play of the valve. This, however, was, in the present case, fatally +overlooked. It was, in fine, now quite apparent, that either of two +effects must speedily ensue--viz.: either the car and the voyagers would +be buried in the inflated silk which was descending upon them, and thus +they would he suffocated, or that the force of distention must burst the +balloon. If a rupture were to take place in that part immediately over +the car, then the voyagers would be suffocated by an atmosphere of +hydrogen; if it should take place at a superior part, then the balloon, +rapidly discharged of its gas, would be precipitated to the earth, and +the destruction of its occupants rendered inevitable. + +Under these circumstances the voyagers did not lose their presence of +mind, but calmly considered their situation, and promptly decided upon +the course to be adopted. M. Barral climbed up the side of the car, and +the net-work suspending it, and forced his way through the hoop, so as +to catch hold of the valve-sleeve. In this operation, however, he was +obliged to exercise a force which produced a rent in a part of the silk +below the hoop, and immediately over the car. In a moment the hydrogen +gas issued with terrible force from the balloon, and the voyagers found +themselves involved in an atmosphere of it. + +Respiration became impossible, and they were nearly suffocated. A glance +at the barometer, however, showed them that they were falling to the +ground with the most fearful rapidity. + +During a few moments they experienced all the anguish attending +asphyxia. From this situation, however, they were relieved more speedily +than they could then have imagined possible; but the cause which +relieved them soon became evident, and inspired them with fresh terrors. + +M. Barral, from the indications of the barometer, knew that they were +being precipitated to the surface of the earth with a velocity so +prodigious, that the passage of the balloon through the atmosphere +dispelled the mass of hydrogen with which they had been surrounded. + +It was, nevertheless, evident that the small rent which had been +produced in the lower part of the balloon, by the abortive attempt to +obtain access to the valve, could not have been the cause of a fall so +rapid. + +M. Barral, accordingly, proceeded to examine the external surface of the +balloon, as far as it was visible from the car, and, to his astonishment +and terror, he discovered that a rupture had taken place, and that a +rent was made, about five feet in length, along the equator of the +machine, through which, of course, the gas was now escaping in immense +quantities. Here was the cause of the frightful precipitation of the +descent, and a source of imminent danger in the fall. + +M. Barral promptly decided on the course to be taken. + +It was resolved to check the descent by the discharge of the ballast, +and every other article of weight. But this process, to be effectual, +required to be conducted with considerable coolness and skill. They were +some thousand feet above the clouds. If the ballast were dismissed too +soon, the balloon must again acquire a perilous velocity before it would +reach the earth. If, on the other hand, its descent were not moderated +in time, its fall might become so precipitate as to be ungovernable. +Nine or ten sand-bags being, therefore, reserved for the last and +critical moment, all the rest of the ballast was discharged. The fall +being still frightfully rapid, the voyagers cast out, as they descended +through the cloud already mentioned, every article of weight which they +had, among which were the blankets and woolen clothing which they had +brought to cover them in the upper regions of the atmosphere, their +shoes, several bottles of wine, all, in fine, save and except the +philosophical instruments. These they regarded as the soldier does his +flag, not to be surrendered save with life. M. Bixio, when about to +throw over a trifling apparatus, called an aspirator, composed of +copper, and filled with water, was forbidden by M. Barral, and obeyed +the injunction. + +They soon emerged from the lower stratum of the cloud, through which +they had fallen in less than two minutes, having taken fifteen minutes +to ascend through it. The earth was now in sight, and they were dropping +upon it like a stone. Every weighty article had been dismissed, except +the nine sand-bags, which had been designedly reserved to break the +shock on arriving at the surface. They observed that they were directly +over some vine-grounds near Lagny, in the department of the Seine and +Marne, and could distinctly see a number of laborers engaged in their +ordinary toil, who regarded with unmeasured astonishment the enormous +object about to drop upon them. It was only when they arrived at a few +hundred feet from the surface that the nine bags of sand were dropped by +M. Barral, and by this man[oe]uvre the lives of the voyagers were +probably saved. The balloon reached the ground, and the car struck among +the vines. Happily the wind was gentle; but gentle as it was it was +sufficient, acting upon the enormous surface of the balloon, to drag the +car along the ground, as if it were drawn by fiery and ungovernable +horses. Now arrived a moment of difficulty and danger, which also had +been foreseen and provided for by M. Barral. If either of the voyagers +had singly leaped from the car, the balloon, lightened of so much +weight, would dart up again into the air. Neither voyager would consent, +then, to purchase his own safety at the risk of the other. M. Barral, +therefore, threw his body half down from the car, laying hold of the +vine-stakes, as he was dragged along, and directing M. Bixio to hold +fast to his feet. In this way the two voyagers, by their united bodies, +formed a sort of anchor, the arms of M. Barral playing the part of the +fluke, and the body of M. Bixio that of the cable. + +In this way M. Barral was dragged over a portion of the vineyard +rapidly, without any other injury than a scratch or contusion of the +face, produced by one of the vine-stakes. + +The laborers just referred to meanwhile collected, and pursued the +balloon, and finally succeeded in securing it, and in liberating the +voyagers, whom they afterward thanked for the bottles of excellent wine +which, as they supposed, had fallen from the heavens, and which, +wonderful to relate, had not been broken from the fall, although, as has +been stated, they had been discharged above the clouds. The astonishment +and perplexity of the rustics can be imagined on seeing these bottles +drop in the vineyard. + +This fact also shows how perpendicularly the balloon must have dropped, +since the bottles dismissed from such a height, fell in the same field +where, in a minute afterward, the balloon also dropped. + +The entire descent from the altitude of twenty thousand feet was +effected in seven minutes, being at the average rate of fifty feet per +second. + +In fine, we have to report that these adventurous partisans of science, +nothing discouraged by the catastrophe which has occurred have resolved +to renew the experiment under, as may he hoped, less inauspicious +circumstances; and we trust that on the next occasion they will not +disdain to avail themselves of the co-operation and presence of some one +of those persons, who having hitherto practiced aerial navigation for +the mere purposes of amusement, will, doubtless, be too happy to invest +one at least of their labors with a more useful and more noble +character. + + + + +(From the Dublin University Magazine.) + +ANDREW CARSON'S MONEY; A STORY OF GOLD. + + +The night of a bitter winter day had come; frost, and hail, and snow +carried a sense of new desolation to the cold hearths of the moneyless, +while the wealthy only drew the closer to their bright fires, and +experienced stronger feelings of comfort. + +In a small back apartment of a mean house, in one of the poorest +quarters of Edinburgh, a young man sat with a pen in his fingers, +endeavoring to write, though the blue tint of his nails showed that the +blood was almost frozen in his hands. There was no fire in the room; the +old iron grate was rusty and damp, as if a fire had not blazed in it for +years; the hail dashed against the fractured panes of the window; the +young man was poorly and scantily dressed, and he was very thin, and +bilious to all appearance; his sallow, yellow face and hollow eyes told +of disease, misery, and the absence of hope. + +His hand shook with cold, as, by the light of the meanest and cheapest +of candles, he slowly traced line after line, with the vain thought of +making money by his writings. In his boyish days he had entered the +ranks of literature, with the hopes of fame to lead him on, but +disappointment after disappointment, and miserable circumstances of +poverty and suffering had been his fate: now the vision of fame had +become dim in his sick soul--he was writing with the hope of gaining +money, any trifle, by his pen. + +Of all the ways of acquiring money to which the millions bend their best +energies, that of literature is the most forlorn. The artificers of +necessaries and luxuries, for the animal existence, have the world as +their customers; but those who labor for the mind have but a limited +few, and therefore the supply of mental work is infinitely greater than +the demand, and thousands of the unknown and struggling, even though +possessed of much genius, must sink before the famous few who +monopolize the literary market, and so the young writer is overlooked. +He may be starving, but his manuscripts will be returned to him; the +emoluments of literature are flowing in other channels; he is one added +to the thousands too many in the writing world; his efforts may bring +him misery and madness, but not money. + +The door of the room opened, and a woman entered; and advancing near the +little table on which the young man was writing, she fixed her eyes on +him with a look in which anger, and the extreme wretchedness which +merges on insanity, were mingled. She seemed nearly fifty; her features +had some remaining traces of former regularity and beauty, but her whole +countenance now was a volume filled with the most squalid suffering and +evil passions; her cheeks and eyes were hollow, as if she had reached +the extreme of old age; she was emaciated to a woeful degree; her dress +was poor dirty, and tattered, and worn without any attempt at proper +arrangement. + +"Writing! writing! writing! Thank God, Andrew Carson, the pen will soon +drop from your fingers with starvation." + +The woman said this in a half-screaming, but weak and broken-down voice. + +"Mother, let me have some peace," said the young writer, turning his +face away, so that he might not see her red glaring eyes fixed on him. + +"Ay, Andrew Carson, I say thank God that the force of hunger will soon +now make you drop that cursed writing. Thank God, if there _is_ the God +that my father used to talk about in the long nights in the bonnie +highland glen, where it's like a dream of lang syne that I ever lived." + +She pressed her hands on her breast, as if some recollections of an +overpowering nature were in her soul. + +"The last rag in your trunk has gone to the pawn; you have neither +shirt, nor coat, nor covering now, except what you've on. +Write--write--if you can, without eating; to-morrow you'll have neither +meat nor drink here, nor aught now to get money on." + +"Mother, I am in daily expectation of receiving something for my writing +now; the post this evening may bring me some good news." + +He said this with hesitation, and there was little of hope in the +expression of his face. + +"Good news! good news about your writing! that's the good news 'ill +never come; never, you good-for-nothing scribbler!" + +She screamed forth the last words in a voice of frenzy. Her tone was a +mixture of Scotch and Irish accents. She had resided for some years of +her earlier life in Ireland. + +As the young writer looked at her and listened to her, the pen shook in +his hand. + +"Go out, and work, and make money. Ay, the working people can live on +the best, while you, with that pen in your fingers, are starving +yourself and me." + +"Mother, I am not strong enough for labor, and my tastes are strongly, +very strongly, for literature." + +"Not strong enough! you're twenty past. It's twenty long years since the +cursed night I brought you into the world." The young writer gazed +keenly on his mother, for he was afraid she was under the influence of +intoxication, as was too often the case; but he did not know how she +could have obtained money, as he knew there was not a farthing in the +house. The woman seemed to divine the meaning of his looks-- + +"I'm not drunk, don't think it," she cried; "it's the hunger and the +sorrow that's in my head." + +"Well, mother, perhaps this evening's post may have some good +intelligence." + +"What did the morning's post bring? There, there--don't I see it--them's +the bonnie hopes of yours." + +She pointed to the table, where lay a couple of returned manuscripts. +Andrew glanced toward the parcel, and made a strong effort to suppress +the deep sigh which heaved his breast. + +"Ay, there it is--there's a bundle of that stuff ye spend your nights +and days writing; taking the flesh off your bones, and making that face +of yours so black and yellow; it's your father's face, too--ay--well +it's like him now, indeed--the ruffian. I wish I had never seen him, nor +you, nor this world." + +"My father," said Andrew, and a feeling of interest overspread his +bloodless face. "You have told me little of him. Why do you speak of him +so harshly?" + +"Go and work, and make money, I say. I tell you I must get money; right +or wrong, I must get it; there's no living longer, and enduring what +I've endured. I dream of being rich; I waken every morning from visions +where my hands are filled with money; that wakening turns my head, when +I know and see there is not a halfpenny in the house, and when I see +you, my son, sitting there, working like a fool with pen and brain, but +without the power to earn a penny for me. Go out and work with your +hands, I say again, and let me get money--do any thing, if it brings +money. There is the old woman over the way, who has a working son; his +mother may bless God that he is a shoemaker and not a poet; she is the +happy woman, so cozily covered with warm flannel and stuff this weary +weather, and her mutton, and her tea, and her money jingling in her +pocket forever; that's what a working son can do--a shoemaker can do +that." + +At this some noise in the kitchen called Mrs. Carson away, to the great +relief of Andrew. He rose, and closed the door gently after her. He +seated himself again, and took up his pen, but his head fell listlessly +on his hand; he felt as if his mother's words were yet echoing in his +ears. From his earliest infancy he had regarded her with fear and +wonder, more than love. + +Mrs. Carson was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman, who +was suspected by his brethren in the ministry of entertaining peculiar +views of religion on some points, and also of being at intervals rather +unsound in his mind. He bestowed, however, a superior education on his +only daughter, and instructed her carefully himself until his death, +which occurred when she was not more than fourteen. As her father left +her little if any support, she was under the necessity of going to +reside with relations in Ireland, who moved in a rather humble rank. Of +her subsequent history little was known to Andrew; she always maintained +silence regarding his father, and seemed angry when he ventured to +question her. Andrew was born in Ireland, and resided there until about +his eighth year, when his mother returned to Scotland. + +It was from his mother Andrew had gained all the little education that +had been bestowed on him. That education was most capriciously imparted, +and in its extent only went the length of teaching him to read +partially; for whatever further advances he had made he was indebted to +his own self-culture. At times his mother would make some efforts to +impress on him the advantages of education: she would talk of poetry, +and repeat specimens of the poets which her memory had retained from the +period of her girlhood in her father's house; but oftenest the language +of bitterness, violence, and execration was on her lips. With the +never-ceasing complaints of want--want of position, want of friends, +but, most of all, want of money--sounding in his ears, Andrew grew up a +poet. The unsettled and aimless mind of his mother, shadowed as it was +with perpetual blackness, prevented her from calmly and wisely striving +to place her son in some position by which he could have aided in +supporting himself and her. As a child, Andrew was shy and solitary, +caring little for the society of children of his own years, and taking +refuge from the never-ceasing violence of his mother's temper in the +privacy of his own poor bedroom, with some old book which he had +contrived to borrow, or with his pen, for he was a writer of verses from +an early age. + +Andrew was small-sized, sickly, emaciated, and feeble in frame; his mind +had much of the hereditary weakness visible in his mother; his +imagination and his passions were strong, and easily excited to such a +pitch as to overwhelm for the moment his reason. With a little-exercised +and somewhat defective judgment; with no knowledge of the world; with +few books; with a want of that tact possessed by some intellects, of +knowing and turning to account the tendencies of the age in literature, +it was hardly to be expected that Andrew would soon succeed as a poet, +though his imagination was powerful, and there was pathos and even +occasional sublimity in his poetry. For five long years he had been +toiling and striving without any success whatever in his vocation, in +the way of realizing either fame or emolument. + +Now, as he sat with his eyes fixed on the two returned manuscripts on +his table, his torturing memory passed in review before him the many +times his hopes had been equally lost. He was only twenty years of age, +yet he had endured so many disappointments! He shook and trembled with a +convulsive agony as he recalled poem after poem, odes, sonnets, epics, +dramas--he had tried every thing; he had built so many glorious +expectations on each as, night after night, shivering with cold and +faint with sickness, he had persisted in gathering from his mind, and +arranging laboriously, the brightest and most powerful of his poetical +fancies, and hoped, and was often almost sure, they would spread +broadly, and be felt deeply in the world. But there they had all +returned to him--there they lay, unknown, unheard of--they were only so +much waste paper. + +As each manuscript had found its way back to him, he had received every +one with an increasing bitterness and despair, which gradually wrought +his brain almost to a state of mental malady. By constitution he was +nervous and melancholy: the utmost of the world's success would hardly +have made him happy; he had no internal strength to cope with +disappointment--no sanguine hopes pointing to a brighter future: he was +overwhelmed with present failures. One moment he doubted sorely the +power of his own genius: and the thought was like death to him, for +without fame--without raising himself a name and a position above the +common masses--he felt he could not live. Again, he would lay the whole +blame on the undiscerning publishers to whom his poetry had been sent; +he would anathematize them all with the fierce bitterness of a soul +which was, alas! unsubdued in many respects by the softening and +humbling influences of the religion of Christ. He had not the calm +reflection which might have told him that, young, uneducated, utterly +unlearned in the world and in books as he was, his writings must of +necessity have a kind of inferiority to the works of those possessed of +more advantages. He had no deep, sober principles or thoughts; his +thoughts were feelings which bore him on their whirlwind course to the +depths of agony, and to the brink of the grave, for his health was +evidently seriously impaired by the indulgence of long-continued +emotions of misery. + +He took up one of the rejected manuscripts in his hand: it was a +legendary poem, modeled something after the style of Byron, though the +young author would have violently denied the resemblance. He thought of +the pains he had bestowed on it--of the amount of thought and +dreams--the sick, languid headaches, the pained breast, the weary mind +it had so often occasioned him; then he saw the marks of tears on +it--the gush of tears which had come as if to extinguish the fire of +madness which had kindled in his brain. When he saw that manuscript +returned to him, the marks of the tears were there staining the outside +page. He looked fixedly on that manuscript, and his thin face became +darker, and more expressive of all that is hopeless in human sorrow; +the bright light of success shone as if so far away from him now--away +at an endless distance, which neither his strength of body or mind could +ever carry him over. + +At that moment the sharp, rapid knock of the postman sounded in his +ears. His heart leaped up, and then suddenly sank with suffocating fear, +for the dark mood of despair was on him--could it be another returned +manuscript? He had only one now in the hands of a publisher; the one on +which he had expended all his powers--the one to which he had trusted +most: it was a tragedy. He had dreamed the preceding night that it had +been accepted; he had dreamed it had brought him showers of gold; he had +been for a moment happy beyond the bounds of human happiness, though he +had awoke with a sense of horror on his mind, he knew not why. The +publisher to whom he had sent his tragedy was to present it to the +manager of one of the London theatres. Had it been taken, performed, +successful?--a dream of glory, as if heaven had opened on him, +bewildered his senses. + +The door was rudely pushed open; his mother entered, and flung the +manuscript of the returned tragedy on the table. + +"There--there's another of them!" she cried, rage choked her voice for a +moment. + +Andrew was stunned. Despair seemed to have frozen him all at once into a +statue. He mechanically took up the packet, and, opening it, he read the +cold, polite, brief note, which told of the rejection of his play both +by theatres and publishers. + +"Idiot--fool--scribbling fool!" + +The unfortunate poet's mother sank into a chair, as if unable to support +the force of her anger. + +"Fool!--scribbling madman! will ye never give over?" + +Andrew made no answer; but every one of his mother's furious words sank +into his brain, adding to the force of his unutterable misery. + +"Will ye go now, and take to some other trade, will ye?--will ye, I +say?" + +Andrew's lips moved for a moment, but no sound came from them. + +"Will ye go out, and make money, I say, at some sensible work? Make +money for me, will you? I'll force you out to make money at some work by +which there's money to be made; not the like of that idiot writing of +yours, curse it. Answer me, and tell me you'll go out and work for money +now?" + +She seized his arm, and shook it violently; but still he made no +response. + +"You will not speak. Listen, then--listen to me, I say; I'll tell it all +now; you'll hear what you never heard before. I did not tell you before, +because I pitied you--because I thought you would work for me, and earn +money; but you will not promise it. Now, then, listen. You are the very +child of money--brought into existence by the influence of money; you +would never have been in being had it not been for money. I always told +you I was married to your father; I told you a falsehood--he bound me to +him by the ties of money only." + +A violent shudder passed over Andrew's frame at this intelligence, but +still he said nothing. + +"You shall hear it all--I shall tell you particularly the whole story. +It was not for nothing you were always afraid of being called a bastard. +It's an ugly word, but it belongs to you--ay, ay, ye always trembled at +that word, since ye were able to go and play among the children in the +street. They called ye that seven years ago--ten years ago, when we came +here first, and you used to come crying to me, for you could not bear +it, you said. I denied it then--I told you I was married to your father; +I told you a lie: I told you that, because I thought you would grow up +and work for me, and get me money. You won't do it; you will only +write--write all day and all night, too, though I've begged you to quit +it. You have me here starving. What signifies the beggarly annuity your +father left to me, and you, his child? It's all spent long before it +comes, and here we are with nothing, not a crust, in the house, and it's +two months till next paying time. + +"Listen--I'll tell you the whole story of your birth; maybe that will +put you from writing for a while, if you have the spirit you used to +have when they told you what you were." + +She shook his arm again, without receiving any answer; his head had +fallen on his hands, and he remained fixed in one position. His mother's +eyes glared on him with a look in which madness was visible, together +with a tigress-like expression of ferocity which rarely appears on the +face of a mother, or of any human being, where insanity does not exist. +When she spoke, however, her words were collected, and her manner was +impressive and even dignified; the look of maniac anger gradually wore +away from her face, and in every sentence she uttered there were proofs +that something of power had naturally existed in her fallen and clouded +mind. + +"Want of money was the earliest thing I remember to feel," she said, as +she seated herself, with something more of composure in her manner. +"There was never any money in my father's house. I wondered at first +where it could all go; I watched and reflected, and used all means of +finding out the mystery. At last I knew it--my father drank; in the +privacy of his room, when no eye was on him, he drank, drank. He paid +strict enough attention to my education. I read with him much; he had +stores of books. I read the Bible with him, too; often he spent long +evenings expounding it to me. But I saw the hollowness of it all--he +hardly believed himself; he doubted--doubted all, while he would fain +have made me a believer. I saw it well: I heard him rave of it in a +fever into which drink had thrown him. All was dark to him, he said, +when he was near dying; but he had taught his child to believe; he had +done his best to make her believe. He did not know my heart; I was his +own child; I longed for sensual things; my heart burned with a wish for +money, but it all went for drink. Had I but been able then to procure +food and clothes as others of my rank did, the burning wish for money +that consumed my heart then and now might never have been kindled, and I +might have been rich as those often become who have never wished for +riches. Yes, the eagerness of my wishes has always driven money far away +from me; that cursed gold and silver, it flows on them who have never +worshiped it--never longed for it till their brain turned; and it will +not come to such as me, whose whole life has been a desire for it. Well, +my father died, and I was left without a penny; all the furniture went +to pay the spirit-merchant. I went to Ireland; I lived with relations +who were poor and ignorant: I heard the cry of want of money there too. +A father and mother and seven children, and me, the penniless orphan: we +all wanted money--all cried for it. At last my cry was answered in a +black way; I saw the sight of money at last; a purse heaped, overflowing +with money, was put into my hands. My brain got giddy at the sight; sin +and virtue became all one to me at the sight. Gold, gold! my father +would hardly ever give me one poor shilling; the people with whom I +lived hardly ever had a shilling among them. I became the mistress of a +rich man--a married man; his wife and children were living there before +my eyes--a profligate man; his sins were the talk of the countryside. I +hated him; he was old, deformed, revolting; but he chained me to him by +money. Then I enjoyed money for a while; I kept that purse in my hand; I +laid it down so as my eyes would rest on it perpetually. I dressed; I +squandered sum after sum; the rich man who kept me had many other +expenses: his money became scantier; we quarreled; another offered me +more money--I went to him." + +A deep groan shook the whole frame of the unfortunate young poet at this +statement--a groan which in its intensity might have separated soul and +body. + +"Let me go--let me go!" he cried, raising himself for a moment, and then +sinking back again in his chair in a passive state. + +His mother seemed a little softened by his agitation, though she made no +comment on it, but continued her narrative as if no interruption had +taken place. + +"Money took me to a new master; he was richer than the first; he bound +my heart to him by the profusion of his money. He was old and withered, +but his gold and silver reflected so brightly on his face, I came to +think him handsome; he was your father; you were born; after your birth +I think I even loved him. I urged him to marry me; he listened; he even +promised--yes, marriage and money--money--they were almost in my very +grasp. I was sure--sure--when he went to England to arrange some +business, he said; he wrote fondly for a while; I lived in an elysium; +money and an honorable marriage were my own. I had not one doubt; but he +ceased to write to me--all at once he ceased; had it been a gradual +drawing off, my brain would not have reeled as it did. At last, when +fear and anxiety had almost thrown me into a fever, a letter came. It +announced in a few words that your father was married to a young, +virtuous, and wealthy lady; he had settled a small annuity on me for +life, and never wished to see or hear from me again. A violent illness +seized me then; it was a kind of burning fever. All things around me +seemed to dazzle, and assume the form of gold and silver; I struggled +and writhed to grasp the illusion; they were forced to tie my hands--to +bind me down in my bed. I recovered at last, but I had grown all at once +old, withered, stricken in mind and body by that sickness. For a long +time--for years--I lived as if in a lingering dream; I had no keen +perceptions of life; my wishes had little energy; my thoughts were +confused and wandering; even the love of money and the want of money +failed to stir me into any kind of action. I have something of the same +kind of feeling still," she said, raising her hand to her head. "The +burning fever into which I was thrown when your father's love vanished +from me, is often here even yet, though its duration is brief; but it is +sufficient to make me incapable of any exertion by which I could make +money. I have trusted to you; I have hoped that you might be the means +of raising me from my poverty; I have long hoped to see the gold and +silver of your earning. I did not say much at first, when I saw you +turning a poet; I had heard that poetry was the sure high-road to +poverty, but I said little then. I was hardly able to judge and know +rightly what you should do when you commenced writing in your boyhood; +but my head is a little cooler now; the scorching fire of the money your +father tempted me with, and then withdrew, is quenched a little by +years. Now at last I see that you are wasting your time and health with +that pen; you have not made one shilling--one single sixpence for me, +yet, with that pen of yours; your health is going fast; I see the color +of the grave on your thin cheeks. Now I command you to throw away your +pen, and make money for me at any trade, no matter how low or mean." + +As she spoke, there was a look approaching to dignity in her wasted +face, and her tones were clear and commanding--the vulgar Irishism and +Scoticism of dialect which, on common occasions, disfigured her +conversation, had disappeared, and it was evident that her intellect had +at one period been cultivated, and superior to the ordinary class of +minds. + +Andrew rose without saying one syllable in answer to his mother's +communication; he threw his manuscripts and the sheets which he had +written into a desk; he locked it with a nervous, trembling hand, and +then turned to leave the room. His face was of the most ghastly +paleness; his eyes were calm and fixed; he seemed sick at heart by the +disclosure he had heard; his lips trembled and shook with agitation. + +"Where are you going, Andrew? It's a bitter night." + +"Mother, it is good enough for me--for a--" + +He could not speak the hated word which rose to his lips; he had an +early horror of that word; he had dreaded that his was a dishonorable +birth: even in his boyish days he had feared it; his mother had often +asserted to the contrary, but now she had dispelled the belief in which +he had rested. + +He opened the door hastily, and passed out into the storm, which was +rushing against the windows. + +A feeling of pity for him--a feeling of a mother's affection and +solicitude, was stirred in Mrs. Carson's soul, as she listened to his +departing footsteps, and then went and seated herself beside the embers +of a dying fire in the kitchen; it was a small, cold, +miserably-furnished kitchen; the desolation of the severe season met no +counterbalancing power there; no cheering appearances of food, or fire, +or any comforts were there. But the complaining spirit which cried and +sighed perpetually was for once silent within Mrs. Carson's mind; +something--perhaps the death-like aspect of her son, or a voice from her +long stifled conscience--was telling her how ill she had fulfilled the +duties of a mother. She felt remorse for the reproaches she had heaped +on him before he had gone out in the storm. + +She waited to hear his knock at the door; she longed for his returning +steps; she felt that she would receive him with more of kindness than +she had for a length of time displayed to him; she kept picturing to +herself perpetually his thin face and emaciated figure, and a fear of +his early death seized on her for the first time; she had been so +engrossed by her own selfish wants, that she had scarcely remarked the +failing health of her son. She started with horror at the probabilities +which her naturally powerful fancy suggested. She resolved to call in +medical aid immediately, for she was sure now that Andrew's constitution +was sinking fast. But how would she pay for medical aid? she had not one +farthing to procure advice. At this thought the yearning, burning desire +for money which had so long made a part of her existence came back with +full force; she sat revolving scheme after scheme, plan after plan, of +how she could procure it. Hours passed away, but still she sat alone, +silently cowering over the cinders of the fire. + +At length she started up, fully awake, to a sense of wonder and dread at +Andrew's long absence. She heard the sound of distant clocks striking +twelve. It was unusual for Andrew to be out so late, for he had +uniformly kept himself aloof from evil companions. The high poetical +spirit within him, a spirit which utterly engrossed him, had kept him +from the haunts of vice. His mother went to the door, and opening it, +gazed on the narrow, mean street. The storm had passed away; the street +was white with hail and snow; the moon shone clearly down between the +tall but dilapidated houses of which the street or lane was composed; +various riotous-looking people were passing by; and from a neighboring +house the brisk strains of a violin came, together with the sound of +voices and laughter. The house had a bad repute in the neighborhood, but +Mrs. Carson never for an instant suspected her son was there. She looked +anxiously along the street, and at every passing form she gazed +earnestly, but none resembled her son. + +For a long time she stood waiting and watching for the appearance of +Andrew, but he did not come. At last, sinking with cold and weariness, +and with a host of phantom fears rising up in her bewildered brain, and +almost dragging her mind down into the gulf of utter madness, on the +brink of which she had so long been, Mrs. Carson returned to the +kitchen. As she looked on the last ember dying out on the hearth, a +feeling of frenzy shook her frame. Andrew would soon return, shivering +with cold, and she had no fire to warm him--no money to purchase fire. +She thought of the wealthy--of their bright fires--and bitter envy and +longing for riches gnawed her very heart and life. A broken deal chair +was in a corner of the kitchen; she seized it, and after some efforts +succeeded in wrenching off a piece, which she placed on the dying ember, +and busied herself for some time in fanning; then she gathered every +remaining fragment of coals from the recess at one side of the +fire-place, in which they were usually kept, and with the pains and +patience which poverty so sorely teaches, she employed herself in making +some appearance of a fire. Had she been in her usual mood, she would +have sat anathematizing her son for his absence at such an hour; but now +every moment, as she sat awaiting his return, her heart became more +kindly disposed toward him, and an uneasy feeling of remorse for her +past life was each instant gaining strength amidst the variety of +strange spectral thoughts and fancies which flitted through her diseased +mind. At some moments she fancied she saw her father seated opposite to +her on the hearth, and heard him reading from the Bible, as he did so +often in her girlish days: then again he was away in the privacy of his +own room, and she was watching him through a crevice of the door, and +she saw him open the cabinet he kept there, and take out liquor, ardent +spirits, and he drank long and deep draughts, until gradually he sank +down on his bed in the silent, moveless state of intoxication which had +so long imposed on her, for she had once believed that her father was +subject to fits of a peculiar kind. She groaned and shuddered as this +vision was impressed on her; she saw the spirit of evil which had +destroyed her father attaching itself next to her own fate, and leading +her into the depths of guilt, and she trembled for her son. Had he now +fallen in sin? was some evil action detaining him to such an hour? He +was naturally inclined to good, she knew--strangely good and pure had +his life been, considering he was her child, and reared so carelessly as +she had reared him; but now he had been urged to despair by her endless +cry for money, and, perhaps, he was at that very instant engaged in some +robbery, by which he would be able to bring money to his mother. + +So completely enslaved had her mind become to a lust for money, that the +thought of his gaining wealth by any means was for some time delightful +to her; she looked on their great poverty, and she felt, in her darkened +judgment, that they had something of a right to take forcibly a portion +of the superabundant money of the rich. Her eyes glared with eagerness +for the sight of her son returning with money, even though that money +was stolen; the habitual mood of her mind prevailed rapidly over the +impressions of returning goodness and affection which for a brief period +had awoke within her. + +In the midst of the return of her overwhelming desire for money, +Andrew's knock came to the door. The eager inquiry whether he had +brought any money with him was bursting from her lips the moment she +opened the door and beheld him, but she was cheeked by the sight of two +strangers who accompanied him. Andrew bade the men follow him, and +walked rapidly to the kitchen; the tones of his voice were so changed +and hollow that his mother hardly recognized him to be her son. + +He requested the men to be seated, telling them that when the noise on +the street would be quiet and the people dispersed they would get that +for which they had come. At that moment a drunken broil on the street +had drawn some watchmen to the neighborhood. + +He bade his mother follow him, and proceeded hastily to his own room. By +the aid of a match he lighted the miserable candle by which, some hours +previously, he had been writing. + +"Mother, here is money--gold--here--your hand." He pressed some gold +coins into her hand. "Gold! ay, gold, gold, indeed!" gasped his mother, +the intensity of her joy repressing for the instant all extravagant +demonstrations of it. + +"Go, go away to the kitchen; in about five or ten minutes let the men +come here, and they will get what I have sold them." + +"Money! money at last; gold--gold!" cried his mother, altogether +unconscious of what her son was saving, and only awake to the blessed +sense of having at last obtained money. + +"Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose." + +"Money! blessings, blessings on you and God--money!" She seemed still in +ignorance of Andrew's request that she would withdraw. + +"Away, I say, I must be alone; away to the kitchen, and leave me alone; +but let the men come here in a few minutes and take what they have +purchased." + +He spoke with a strange energy. She obeyed him at last, and left the +room: she remembered afterward that his face was like that of a dead man +when he addressed her. + +She returned to the kitchen. The two men were seated where she had left +them, and were conversing together: their strong Irish accent told at +once their country. Mrs. Carson paid no attention to them; she neither +spoke to them nor looked at them; she held tightly clasped in her hand +the few gold coins her son had given her; she walked about like one half +distracted, addressing audible thanksgiving to God one instant, and the +next felicitating herself in an insane manner on having at last obtained +some money. The two men commented on her strange manners, and agreed +that she was mad, stating their opinions aloud to each other, but she +did not hear them. + +The noise and quarreling on the street continued for some time, and the +men manifested no impatience while it lasted. All became quiet after a +time; the desertion and silence of night seemed at last to have settled +down on the street. The two men then manifested a strong wish to finish +the business on which they had come. + +"I say, whereabouts is it--where's the snatch, my good woman?" said one +of the men, addressing Mrs. Carson. + +She looked on him and his companion with amazement mingled with +something of fear, for the aspects of both were expressive of low +ruffianism. + +"She's mad, don't you see," said the one who had not addressed her. + +The other cursed deeply, saying that as they had given part payment, +they would get their errand, or their money back again. + +At this, a gleam of recollection crossed Mrs. Carson's mind, and she +informed them that her son had mentioned about something they had +purchased, which was in his room. She thought at the instant, that +perhaps he had disposed of one of his manuscripts at last, though she +wondered at the appearance of the purchasers of such an article. + +"That's it," cried the men; "show us the way to the room fast; it's all +quiet now." + +Anxious to get rid of the men, Mrs. Carson proceeded hastily to her +son's room, followed closely by the men. The first object she saw, on +opening the door, was Andrew, leaning on his desk; the little desk stood +on the table, and Andrew's head and breast were lying on it, as if he +was asleep. There was something in his fixed attitude which struck an +unpleasant feeling to his mother's heart. + +"Andrew!" she said; "Andrew, the men are here." + +All was silent. No murmur of sleep or life came from Andrew. His mother +ran to his side, and grasped his arm: there was no sound, no motion. She +raised his head with one hand, while at the same time she glanced at an +open letter, on which a few lines were scrawled in a large, hurried +hand. Every word and letter seemed to dilate before her eyes, as in a +brief instant of time she read the following: + +"Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for +dissection; the money I gave you is part of the price. You have +upbraided me for never making money: I have sold all I possess--my +body--and given you money. You have told me of the stain on my birth; I +can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in this world +would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I +can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes, +yes, from the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice, +saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds. +Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace +of Andrew Carson vanish from your earth." + +With a lightning rapidity Mrs. Carson scanned each word; and not until +she had read it all, did a scream of prolonged and utter agony, such as +is rarely heard even in this world of grief burst from her lips; and +with a gesture of frenzied violence she flung the money she had kept +closely grasped in her hand at the men. One of them stooped to gather it +up, and the other ran toward Andrew, and raised his inanimate body a +little from its recumbent position. He was quite dead, however; a +bottle, marked "Prussic Acid," was in his hand. The two men, having +recovered the money, hurried away, telling Mrs. Carson they would send +immediate medical aid, to see if any thing could be done for the +unfortunate young man. Mrs. Carson did not hear them; a frenzied +paroxysm seized her, and she lay on the floor screaming in the wild +tones of madness, and utterly incapable of any exertion. She saw the +money she had received with such rapture carried away from before her +eyes, but she felt nothing: money had become terrible to her at last. + +Her cries attracted a watchman from the street. A doctor was soon on the +spot; but Andrew Carson was no more connected with flesh, and blood, and +human life; he was away beyond recall, in the spirit-world. + +An inquest was held on the body, and a verdict of temporary insanity +returned, as is usual in such cases of suicide. The young poet was +buried, and soon forgotten. + +Mrs. Carson lingered for some weeks; her disease assumed something of +the form of violent brain-fever; in her ravings she fancied perpetually +that she was immersed in streams of fluid burning gold and silver. They +were forcing her to drink draughts of that scorching gold, she would +cry; all was burning gold and silver: all drink, all food, all air, and +light, and space around her. At the very last she recovered her senses +partially, and calling, with a feeble but calm voice, on her only +beloved child, Andrew, she died. + + + + +[Illustration: Neander in the Lecture Room.] + +NEANDER. + + +Germany has just lost one of her greatest Protestant theologians, +AUGUSTUS NEANDER. He was born at Gttingen, Jan. 16, 1789, and died at +Berlin, July 13, 1850, in his sixty-second year. He was of Jewish +descent, as his strongly-marked features sufficiently evidence; but at +the age of seventeen he embraced the Christian religion, to the defense +of which his labors, and to the exemplification of which his life, were +thenceforth devoted. Having studied theology at Halle, under +Schleiermacher, he was appointed private lecturer at Heidelberg in 1811, +and in the following year the first Professor of Theology at the Royal +University of Berlin, which post he held to the time of his death, a +period of thirty-eight years. Deservedly high as is his reputation +abroad, it is still higher in his own country, where he was known not +only as an author, but as a teacher, a preacher, and a man. The +following is a list of his published works: The Emperor Julian and his +Times, 1812; Bernard and his Times, 1813; Genetical Development of the +Principal Gnostic Systems, 1818; Chrysostom and the Church in his Times, +1820 and 1832; Memorabilia from the History of Christianity and the +Christian Life, 1822 and 1845-46; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +exegetical and historical, 1829; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +biographical, 1840; The Principle of the Reformation, or, Staupitz and +Luther, 1840; History of the Planting and Training of the Christian +Church, 4th ed., 1847; The Life of Jesus Christ in its Historical +Connection and Historical Development, 4th ed., 1845; General History of +the Christian Religion and Church, 1842-47. Neander is best known to +readers of English by the last two works, both of which have been made +accessible to them by American scholars. + +The Life of Christ was undertaken to counteract the impression made by +STRAUSS'S "Life of Christ," in which the attempt was made to apply the +mythical theory to the entire structure of evangelical history. +According to Strauss, the sum of the historical truth contained in the +narratives of the evangelists is, that Jesus lived and taught in Judea, +where he gathered disciples who believed that he was the Messiah. +According to their preconceived notions, the life of the Messiah, and +the period in which he lived, were to be illustrated by signs and +wonders. Messianic legends existed ready-made, in the hopes and +expectations of the people, only needing to be transferred to the person +and character of Jesus. The appearance of this work produced a great +sensation in Germany. It was believed by many that the book should be +prohibited; and the Prussian government was inclined to this measure. +Neander, however, advised that the book should rather be met by +argument. His Life of Christ which was thus occasioned, wears, in +consequence, a somewhat polemical aspect. It has taken the rank of a +standard authority, both in German and in English, into which it has +been admirably translated by Professors M'CLINTOCK and BLUMENTHAL. + +The great work of Neander's life, and of which his various writings in +the departments of Ecclesiastical History, Biography, Patristics, and +Dogmatics are subsidiary, is the General History of the Christian +Religion and Church. The first part of this, containing the history of +the first three centuries, was published in 1825, and, improved and +enlarged, in 1842--43. The second part, which brings the history down to +the close of the sixth century, appeared originally in 1828, and in a +second edition in 1846--47. These two parts, comprising four volumes of +the German edition, are well known to English readers through the +excellent version of Professor TORREY. This is a history of the inner +development of Christian doctrines and opinions rather than of the +external progress of the Church, and in connection with GIESELER'S +Text-Book, furnishes by far the best apparatus for the study of +ecclesiastical history now extant. + +A correspondent of the _Boston Traveler_, writing under date of Berlin, +July 22, gives the following graphic sketch of the personal +characteristics of Neander: + +"NEANDER is no more! He who for thirty-eight years has defeated the +attacks upon the church from the side of rationalism and +philosophy--who, through all the controversies among theologians in +Germany, has remained true to the faith of his adoption, the pure and +holy religion of Jesus Christ--Neander, the philosopher, the +scholar--better, the great and good man--has been taken from the world. + +"He was never married, but lived with his maiden sister. Often have I +seen the two walking arm in arm upon the streets and in the parks of the +city. Neander's habit of abstraction and short-sightedness rendered it +necessary for him to have some one to guide the way whenever he left his +study for a walk or to go to his lecture room. Generally, a student +walked with him to the University, and just before it was time for his +lecture to close, his sister could be seen walking up and down on the +opposite side of the street, waiting to accompany him home. + +"Many anecdotes are related of him illustrative of his absence of mind, +such as his appearing in the lecture room half dressed--if left alone, +always going to his old residence, after he had removed to another part +of the city--walking in the gutter, &c, &c. In the lecture room, his +manner was in the highest degree peculiar. He put his left arm over the +desk, clasping the book in his hand, and after bringing his face close +to the corner of his desk, effectually concealed it by holding his notes +close to his nose. + +"In one hand was always a quill, which, during the lecture, he kept +constantly twirling about and crushing. He pushed the desk forward upon +two legs, swinging it back and forth, and every few minutes would plunge +forward almost spasmodically, throwing one foot back in a way leading +you to expect that he would the next moment precipitate himself headlong +down upon the desks of the students. Twirling his pen, occasional +spitting, jerking his foot backward, taken with his dress, gave him a +most eccentric appearance in the lecture room. Meeting him upon the +street, with his sister, you never would have suspected that such a +strange looking being could be Neander. He formerly had two sisters, but +a few years ago the favorite one died. It was a trying affliction, and +for a short interval he was quite overcome, but suddenly he dried his +tears, calmly declared his firm faith and reliance in the wise purpose +of God in taking her to himself, and resumed his lectures immediately as +if nothing had over taken him to disturb his serenity. + +"Neander's charity was unbounded. Poor students were not only presented +with tickets to his lectures, but were also often provided by him with +money and clothing. Not a farthing of the money received for his +lectures ever went to supply his own wants; it was all given away for +benevolent purposes. The income from his writings was bestowed upon the +Missionary, Bible, and other societies, and upon hospitals. Thoughts of +himself never seemed to have obtruded upon his mind. He would sometimes +give away to a poor student all the money he had about him at the moment +the request was made of him, even his new coat, retaining the old one +for himself. You have known this great man in your country more on +account of his learning, from his books, than in any other way; but +here, where he has lived, one finds that his private character, his +piety, his charity, have distinguished him above all others. + +"It would be difficult to decide whether the influence of his example +has not been as great as that of his writings upon the thousands of +young men who have been his pupils. Protestants, Catholics, nearly all +the leading preachers throughout Germany, have attended his lectures, +and all have been more or less guided by him. While philosophy has been +for years attempting to usurp the place of religion, Neander has been +the chief instrument in combating it, and in keeping the true faith +constantly before the students. + +"He was better acquainted with Church History and the writings of the +Fathers than any one of his time. It has been the custom upon the +recurrence of his birth-day, for the students to present to him a rare +edition of one of the Fathers, and thus he has come to have one of the +most complete sets of their writings to be found in any library. Turning +from his great literary attainments, from all considerations suggested +by his profound learning, it is pleasant to contemplate the pure +Christian character of the man. Although born a Jew, his whole life +seemed to be a sermon upon the text, 'That disciple whom Jesus loved +said unto Peter, _It is the Lord!'_ Neander's life resembled more 'that +disciple's' than any other. He was the loving John, the new Church +Father of our times. + +"His sickness was only of a few days' duration. On Monday he held his +lecture as usual. The next day he was seized with a species of cholera. +A day or two of pain was followed by a lucid interval, when the +physicians were encouraged to hope for his recovery. During this +interval he dictated a page in his Church History, and then said to his +sister--'I am weary--let us go home.' He had no time to die. He needed +no further preparation; his whole life had been the best preparation, +and up to the last moment we see him active in his master's service. The +disease returned with redoubled force; a day or two more of suffering, +and on Sunday, less than a week from the day of attack, he was dead. + +"On the 17th of July I attended the funeral services. The procession of +students was formed at the university, and marched to his dwelling. In +the meantime, in the house, the theological students, the professors +from Berlin, and from the University of Halle, the clergy, relatives, +high officers of government, etc., were assembled to hear the funeral +discourse. Professor Strauss, for forty-five years an intimate friend of +Neander, delivered a sermon. During the exercises, the body, not yet +placed in the coffin, was covered with wreaths and flowers, and +surrounded with burning candles. + +"The procession was of great length, was formed at 10 A.M. and moved +through Unter den Linden as far as Frederick-street, and then the whole +length of Frederick-street as far as the Elizabeth-street Cemetery. The +whole distance, nearly two miles, the sides of the streets, doors and +windows of the houses were filled with an immense concourse of people +who had come to look upon the solemn scene. The hearse was surrounded +with students, some of them from Halle, carrying lighted candles, and in +advance was borne the Bible and Greek Testament which had ever been used +by the deceased. + +"At the grave, a choir of young men sang appropriate music, and a +student from Halle made an affecting address. It was a solemn sight to +see the tears gushing from the eyes of those who had been the pupils and +friends of Neander. Many were deeply moved, and well might they join +with the world in mourning for one who had done more than any one to +keep pure the religion of Christ here in Germany. + +"After the benediction was pronounced, every one present, according to +the beautiful custom here, went to the grave and threw into it a handful +of dirt, thus assisting at the burial. Slowly, and in scattered groups +the crowd dispersed to their various homes. + +"How insignificant all the metaphysical controversies of the age, the +vain teachings of man, appeared to us as we stood at the grave-side of +Neander. His was a far higher and holier faith, from which, like the +Evangelist, he never wavered. In his life, in his death, the belief to +which he had been converted, his watchword remained unchanged: 'It is +the Lord!' His body has been consigned to the grave, but the sunset +glory of his example still illumines our sky, and will forever light us +onward to the path he trod." + + + + +THE DISASTERS OF A MAN WHO WOULDN'T TRUST HIS WIFE. + +A TALE OF A TAILOR. + +BY WM. HOWITT. + + +There are a multitude of places in this wide world, that we never heard +of since the day of creation, and that never would become known to a +soul beyond their own ten miles of circumference, except to those +universal discoverers, the tax-gatherers, were it not that some sparks +of genius may suddenly kindle there, and carry their fame through all +countries and all generations. This has been the case many times, and +will be the case again. We are now destined to hear the sound of names +that our fathers never dreamed of; and there are other spots, now +basking in God's blessed sunshine, of which the world knows and cares +nothing, that shall, to our children, become places of worship, and +pilgrimage. Something of this sort of glory was cast upon the little +town of Rapps, in Bohemia, by the hero whose name stands conspicuously +in this article, and whose pleasant adventures I flatter myself that I +am destined to diffuse still further. HANS NADELTREIBER was the son of +Mr. Strauss Nadeltreiber, who had, as well as his ancestors before him, +for six generations, practiced, in the same little place, that most +gentlemanly of all professions, a tailor--seeing that it was before all +others, and was used and sanctioned by our father Adam. + +Now Hans, from boyhood up, was a remarkable person. His father had known +his share of troubles, and having two sons, both older than Hans, +naturally looked in his old age to reap some comfort and assistance from +their united labors. But the two elder sons successively had fled from +the shop-board. One had gone for a soldier, and was shot; the other had +learned the craft of a weaver, but being too fond of his pot, had +broken his neck by falling into a quarry, as he went home one night from +a carousal. Hans was left the sole staff for the old man to lean upon; +and truly a worthy son he proved himself. He was as gentle as a dove, +and as tender as a lamb. A cross word from his father, when he had made +a cross stitch, would almost break his heart; but half a word of +kindness revived him again--and he seldom went long without it; for the +old man, though rendered rather testy and crabbed in his temper, by his +many troubles and disappointments, was naturally of a loving, +compassionate disposition, and, moreover, regarded Hans as the apple of +his eye. + +Hans was of a remarkably light, slender, active make, full of life and +mettle. This moment he was on the board, stitching away with as much +velocity as if he were working for a funeral or a wedding, at an hour's +notice; the next, he was dispatching his dinner at the same rate; and +the third beheld him running, leaping, and playing, among his +companions, as blithe as a young kid. If he had a fault, it was being +too fond of his fiddle. This was his everlasting delight. One would have +thought that his elbow had labor enough, with jerking his needle some +thirty thousand times a day; but it was in him a sort of universal +joint--it never seemed to know what weariness was. His fiddle stood +always on the board in a corner by him, and no sooner had he ceased to +brandish his needle, than he began to brandish his fiddlestick. If ever +he could be said to be lazy, it was when his father was gone out to +measure, or try on; and his fiddle being too strong a temptation for +him, he would seize upon it, and labor at it with all his might, till he +spied his father turning his next corner homeward. Nevertheless, with +this trifling exception, he was a pattern of filial duty; and now the +time was come that his father must die--his mother was dead long before; +and he was left alone in the world with his riddle. The whole house, +board, trade--what there was of it--all was his. When he came to take +stock, and make an inventory--in his head--of what he was worth, it was +by no means such as to endanger his entrance into heaven at the proper +time. Naturally enough, he thought of the Scripture simile of the rich +man, and the camel getting through the eye of a needle; but it did not +frighten him. His father never had much beforehand, when he had the +whole place to himself; and now, behold! another knight of the steel-bar +had come from--nobody knew where--a place often talked of, yet still a +_terra incognita_; had taken a great house opposite, hoisted a +tremendous sign, and threatened to carry away every shred of Hans's +business. + +In the depth of his trouble, he took to his fiddle, from his fiddle to +his bed, and in his bed he had a dream--I thought we had done with these +dreams!--in which he was assured, that could he once save the sum of +fifty dollars, it would be the seed of a fortune; that he should +flourish far beyond the scale of old Strauss; should drive his +antagonist, in utter despair, from the ground; and should, in short, +arrive eventually at no less a dignity than--Brgermeister of Rapps! + +Hans was, as I believe I have said, soon set up with the smallest spice +of encouragement. He was, moreover, as light and nimble as a +grasshopper, and, in his whole appearance, much such an animal, could it +be made to stand on end. His dream, therefore, was enough. He vowed a +vow of unconquerable might, and to it he went. Springing upon his board, +he hummed a tune gayly: + + There came the Hippopotamus, + A sort of river-bottom-horse, + Sneezing, snorting, blowing water + From his nostrils, and around him + Grazing up the grass--confound him! + Every mouthful a huge slaughter! + + Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly, + From his muzzle must away fly, + Or he swallowed them by legions, + His huge foot, it was a pillar; + When he drank, it was a swiller! + Soon a desert were those regions. + + But the grasshoppers so gallant + Called to arms each nimble callant, + With their wings, and stings, and nippers, + Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful; + Gave the villain such a jawful, + That he slipped away in slippers! + +"Ha! ha!--slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!" cried Hans, +and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did +him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of +it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was +done. He wanted little--a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough +for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when, +returning one evening from carrying out some work--behold! his door was +open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was +off! The money was gone! + +This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even +fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite--the +Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans's +door? But no matter--the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he +got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. "Ay," said +they, "this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by +yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man +like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like a miser? It is a +shame!--it is a sin!--it is a judgment! Nothing better could come of it. +At all events, you might afford to have a light burning in the house. +People are ever likely to rob you. They see a house as dark as an oven; +they see nobody in it; they go in and steal; nobody can see them come +out--and that is just it. But were there a light burning, they would +always think there was somebody in. At all events, you might have a +light." + +"There is something in that," said Hans. He was not at all unreasonable: +so he determined to have a light in future: and he fell to work again. + +Bad as his luck had been, he resolved not to be cast down: he was as +diligent and as thrifty as ever; and he resolved, when he became +Brgermeister of Rapps, to be especially severe on sneaking thieves, who +crept into houses that were left to the care of Providence and the +municipal authorities. A light was everlastingly burning in his window; +and the people, as they passed in the morning, said, "This man must have +a good business that requires him to be up thus early;" and they who +passed in the evening, said, "This man must be making a fortune, for he +is busy early and late." At length Hans leaped down from his board with +the work that was to complete his sum, a second time; went; returned, +with the future Brgermeister growing rapidly upon him; when, as he +turned the corner of the street--men and mercies!--what a spectacle! His +house was in a full burst of flame, illuminating, with a ruddy glow, +half the town, and all the faces of the inhabitants, who were collected +to witness the catastrophe. Money, fiddle, shop-board--all were +consumed! and when poor Hans danced and capered, in the very ecstasy of +his distraction--"Ay," said his neighbors, "this comes of leaving a +light in an empty house. It was just the thing to happen. Why don't you +get somebody to take care of things in your absence?" + +Hans stood corrected; for, as I have said, he was soon touched to the +quick, and though in his anger he did think it rather unkind that they, +who advised the light, now prophesied after the event; when that was a +little abated, he thought there was reason in what they now said. So, +bating not a jot of his determination to save, and to be Brgermeister +of Rapps, he took the very next house, which luckily happened to be at +liberty, and he got a journeyman. For a long time, his case appeared +hard and hopeless. He had to pay three hundred per cent, for the piece +of a table, two stools, and a couple of hags of hay, which he had +procured of a Jew, and which, with an odd pot, and a wooden spoon or +two, constituted all his furniture. Then, he had two mouths to feed +instead of one wages to pay; and not much more work done than he could +manage himself. But still--he had dreamed; and dreams, if they are +genuine, fulfill themselves. The money grew--slowly, very slowly, but +still it grew; and Hans pitched upon a secure place, as he thought, to +conceal it in. Alas! poor Hans! He had often in his heart grumbled at +the slowness of his _Handwerks-Bursch_, or journeyman; but the fellow's +eyes had been quick enough, and he proved himself a hand-work's fellow +to some purpose, by clearing out Hans's hiding-place, and becoming a +journeyman in earnest. The fellow was gone one morning; no great +loss--but then the money was gone with him, which _was_ a terrible +loss. + +This was more than Hans could bear. He was perfectly cast down, +disheartened, and inconsolable. At first, he thought of running after +the fellow; and, as he knew the scamp could not go far without a +passport, and as Hans had gone the round of the country himself, in the +three years of his _Wandel-Jahre_, as required by the worshipful guild +of tailors, he did not doubt but that he should some day pounce upon the +scoundrel. But then, in the mean time, who was to keep his trade +together? There was the Hippopotamus watching opposite! No! it would not +do! and his neighbor, coming in to condole with him, said--"Cheer up, +man! there is nothing amiss yet. What signify a few dollars? You will +soon get plenty more, with those nimble fingers of yours. You want only +somebody to help you to keep them. You must get a wife! Journeymen were +thieves from the first generation. You must get married!" + +"Get married!" thought Hans. He was struck all on a heap at the very +mention of it "Get married! What! fine clothes to go a-wooing in, and +fine presents to go a-wooing with; and parson's fees, and clerk's fees; +and wedding-dinner, and dancing, and drinking; and then, doctor's fees, +and nurse's fees, and children without end! That is ruin!" thought +Hans--"without end!" The fifty dollars and the Brgermeistership--they +might wait till doomsday. + +"Well, that is good!" thought Hans, as he took a little more breath. +"They first counseled me to get a light--then went house and all in a +bonfire; next, I must get a journeyman--then went the money; and now +they would have me bring more plagues upon me than Moses brought upon +Egypt. Nay, nay!" thought Hans; "you'll not catch me there, neither." + +Hans all this time was seated upon his shop-board, stitching, at an +amazing rate, upon a garment which the rascally Wagner should have +finished to order at six o'clock that morning, instead of decamping with +his money; and, ever and anon, so far forgetting his loss in what +appeared to him the ludicrousness of this advice, as freely to laugh +out. All that day, the idea continued to run in his head; the next, it +had lost much of its freshness; the third, it appeared not so odd as +awful; the fourth, he began to ask himself whether it might be quite so +momentous as his imagination had painted it; the fifth, he really +thought it was not so bad neither; the sixth, it had so worked round in +his head, that it had fairly got on the other side, and appeared clearly +to have its advantages--children did not come scampering into the world +all at once, like a flock of lambs into a meadow--a wife might help to +gather, as well as spend--might possibly bring something of her own--ay! +a new idea!--would be a perpetual watch and storekeeper in his +absence--might speak a word of comfort, in trouble when even his fiddle +was dumb; on the seventh--he was off! Whither? + +Why, it so happened that in his "wander-years," Hans had played his +fiddle at many a dance--a very dangerous position; for his chin resting +on "the merry bit of wood," as the ancient Friend termed that +instrument, and his head leaned on one side, he had had plenty of +opportunity to watch the movements of plenty of fair maids in the dance, +as well as occasionally to whirl them round in the everlasting waltz +himself. Accordingly, Hans had left his heart many times, for a week or +ten days or so, behind him, in many a town and dorf of Bohemia and +Germany; but it always came after him and overtook him again, except on +one occasion. Among the damsels of the Bhmer-Wald who had danced to the +sound of his fiddle, there was a certain substantial bergman's or +master-miner's daughter, who, having got into his head in some odd +association with his fiddle, was continually coming up as he played his +old airs, and could not be got out again, especially as he fancied that +the comely and simple-hearted creature had a lurking fondness for both +his music and himself. + +Away he went: and he was right. The damsel made no objection to his +overtures. Tall, stout, fresh, pleasant growth of the open air and the +hills, as she was, she never dreamed of despising the little skipping +tailor of Rapps, though he was shorter by the head than herself. She had +heard his music, and evidently had danced after it. The fiddler and +fiddle together filled up her ambition. But the old people!--they were +in perfect hysterics of wrath and indignation. Their daughter!--with the +exception of one brother, now absent on a visit to his uncle in Hungary, +a great gold-miner in the Carpathian mountains, the sole remnant of an +old, substantial house, which had fed their flocks and their herds on +the hills for three generations, and now drew wealth from the heart of +these hills themselves! It was death! poison! pestilence! The girl must +be mad; the hop-o'-my-thumb scoundrel must carry witch-powder! + +Nevertheless, as Hans and the damsel were agreed, every thing +else--threats, denunciations, sarcasms, cuttings-off with a shilling, +and loss of a ponderous dowry--all went for nothing. They were married, +as some thousands were before them in just the like circumstances. But +if the Bohemian maid was not mad, it must be confessed that Hans was +rather so. He was monstrously exasperated at the contempt heaped by the +heavy bergman on the future Brgermeister of Rapps, and determined to +show a little spirit. As his fiddle entered into all his schemes, he +resolved to have music at his wedding; and no sooner did he and his +bride issue from the church, than out broke the harmony which he had +provided. The fiddle played merrily, "You'll repent, repent, repent; +you'll repent, repent, repent;" and the bassoon answered, in surly +tones, "And soon! and soon!" "I hope, my dear," said the bride, "You +don't mean the words for us." "No, love," explained Hans, gallantly; "I +don't say 'we,' but 'you'--that is, certain haughty people on these +hills that shall be nameless." Then the music played till they reached +the inn where they dined, and then set off in a handsome hired carriage +for Rapps. + +It is true, that there was little happiness in this affair to any one. +The old people were full of anger, curses, and threats of total +disownment. Hans's pride was pricked, and perforated, till he was as +sore as if he had been tattooed with his own needle; and his wife was +completely drowned in sorrow at such a parting with her parents, and +with no little sense of remorse for her disobedience. Nevertheless, they +reached home; things began gradually to assume a more composed aspect. +Hans loved his wife; she loved him; he was industrious, she was careful; +and they trusted, in time, to bring her parents round, when they should +see that they were doing well in the world. + +Again the saving scheme began to haunt Hans; but he had one luckless +notion, which was destined to cost him no little vexation. With the +stock of the shop, he had inherited from his father a stock of old +maxims, which, unluckily, had not got burnt in the fire with the rest of +the patrimonial heritage. Among these was one, that a woman can not keep +a secret. Acting on this creed, Hans not only never told his wife of the +project of becoming Brgermeister of Rapps, but he did not even give her +reason to suppose that he laid up a shilling; and that she might not +happen to stumble upon his money, he took care to carry it always about +him. It was his delight, when he got into a quiet corner, or as he came +along a retired lane, from his errands, to take it out and count it; and +calculate when it would amount to this and that sum, and when the full +sum would be really his own. Now, it happened one day, that having been +a good deal absorbed in these speculations, he had loitered a precious +piece of time away; and suddenly coming to himself, he set off, as was +his wont, on a kind of easy trot, in which, his small, light form thrown +forward, his pale, gray-eyed, earnest-looking visage thrown up toward +the sky, and his long blue coat flying in a stream behind him, he cut +one of the most extraordinary figures in the world; and checking his +pace as he entered the town, he involuntarily clapped his hand on his +pocket, and behold! his money was gone! It had slipped away through a +hole it had worn. In the wildness and bitterness of his loss, he turned +back, heartily cursing the spinner and the weaver of that most +detestable piece of buckram that composed his breeches-pocket, for +having put it together so villainously that it broke down with the +carriage of a few dollars, halfpence, thimbles, balls of wax and thread, +and a few other sundries, after the trifling wear of seven years, nine +months, and nineteen days. + +He was peering, step by step, after his lost treasure, when up came his +wife, running like one wild, and telling him that he must come that +instant; for the Ritter of Flachenflaps had brought in new liveries for +all his servants, and threatened if he did not see Hans in five minutes, +he would carry the work over to the other side of the street. There was +a perplexity! The money was not to be found, and if it were found in the +presence of his wife, he would regard it as no better than lost. He was +therefore obliged to excuse his conduct, being caught in the act of +poring after something, to tell, if not a lie, at least the very +smallest part of the truth, and say that he had lost his thimble. The +money was not found, and to make bad worse, he was in danger of losing a +good job, and all the Ritter's work forever, as a consequence. + +Away he ran, therefore, groaning inwardly, at full speed, and, arriving +out of breath, saw the Ritter's carriage drawn up at his opponent's +door. Wormwood upon wormwood! His money was lost; his best customer was +lost, and thrown into the jaws of the detested Hippopotamus. There he +beheld him and his man in a prime bustle from day to day, while his own +house was deserted. All people went where the Ritter went, of course. +The Hippopotamus was now grazing and browsing through Hans's richest +meadows with a vengeance. He was flourishing out of all bounds. He had +got a horse to ride out on and take orders, and to all appearance was +likely to become Brgermeister ten years before Hans had got ten dollars +of his own. + +It was too much for even his sanguine temperament; he sank down to the +very depths of despair; his fiddle had lost its music; he could not +abide to hear it; he sate moody and disconsolate, with a beard an inch +long. His wife for some time hoped it would go off; but, seeing it come +to this, she began to console and advise, to rouse his courage and his +spirits. She told him it was that horse which gave the advantage to his +neighbor. While he went trudging on foot, wearying himself, and wasting +his time, people came, grew weary, and would not wait. She offered, +therefore, to borrow her neighbor's ass for him; and advised him to ride +out daily a little way. It would look as though he had business in the +country. It would look as if his time was precious; it would look well, +and do his health good into the bargain. Hans liked her counsel; it +sounded well--nay, exceedingly discreet. He always thought her a gem of +a woman, but he never imagined her half so able. What a pity a woman +could not be trusted with a secret! Were it not for that, she would be a +helpmate past all reckoning. + +The ass, however, was got: out rode Hans; looked amazingly hurried; and, +being half-crazed with care, people thought he was half-crazed with +stress of business. Work came in; things went flowingly on again; Hans +blessed his stars; and as he grasped his cash, he every day stitched it +into the crown of his cap, taking paper-money for the purpose. No more +pots, no more hiding-holes, no more breeches-pockets for him; he put it +under the guardianship of his own strong thread and dexterous needle; +and all went on exceedingly well. + +Accidents will, however, occur, if men will not trust their wives; and +especially if they will not avoid awkward habits. Now, Hans had a +strange habit of sticking his needles on his breeches-knees as he sat at +work; and sometimes he would have half-a-dozen on each knee for +half-a-dozen days. His wife often told him to take them out when he came +down from his board, and often took them out herself; but it was of no +use. He was just in this case one day as he rode out to take measure of +a gentleman, about five miles off. The ass, to his thinking, was in a +remarkably brisk mood. Off it went, without whip or spur, at a good +active trot, and, not satisfied with trotting, soon fairly proceeded to +a gallop. Hans was full of wonder at the beast. Commonly it tired his +arm worse with thrashing it during his hour's ride, than the exercise of +his goose and sleeve-board did for a whole day; but now he was fain to +pull it in. It was to no purpose; faster than ever it dashed on, +prancing, running sideways, wincing, and beginning to show a most ugly +temper. What, in the name of all Balaams, could possess the animal, he +could not for his life conceive! The only chance of safety appeared to +lie in clinging with both arms and legs to it, like a boa-constrictor to +its victim, when, shy!--away it flew, as if it were driven by a legion +of devils. In another moment, it stopped; down went its head, up went +its infernal heels; and Hans found himself some ten yards off, in the +middle of a pool. He escaped drowning, but the cap was gone; he had been +foolish enough to stitch some dollars, in hard cash, recently received, +into it along with his paper, and they sunk it, past recovery! He came +home, dripping like a drowned mouse, with a most deplorable tale; but +with no more knowledge of the cause of his disaster than the man in the +moon, till he tore his fingers on the needles, in abstracting his wet +clothes. + +Fortune now seemed to have said, as plainly as she could speak, "Hans, +confide in your wife. You see all your schemes without her fail. Open +your heart to her--deal fairly, generously, and you will reap the merits +of it." It was all in vain--he had not yet come to his senses. Obstinate +as a mule--he determined to try once more. But good-by to the ass! The +only thing he resolved to mount was his shop board--that bore him well, +and brought him continued good, could he only continue to keep it. + +His wife, I said, came from the mountains; she, therefore, liked the +sight of trees. Now, in Hans's back-yard there was neither tree nor +turf, so she got some tubs, and in them she planted a variety of +fir-trees, which made a pleasant appearance, and gave a help to her +imagination of the noble firs of her native scenes. In one of these +tubs, Hans conceived the singular design of depositing his future +treasure. "Nobody, will meddle with them," he thought, so accordingly, +from week to week, he concealed in one of them his acquisitions. It had +gone on a long time. He had been out one day, collecting some of his +debts--he had succeeded beyond his hopes, and came back exulting. The +sum was saved; and, in the gladness of his heart, he bought his wife a +new gown. He bounded into the house with the lightness of seventeen. His +wife was not there--he looked into the back-yard. Saints and angels! +what is that? He beheld his wife busy with the tubs. The trees were +uprooted, and laid on the ground, and every particle of soil was thrown +out of the tubs. In the delirium of consternation, he flew to ask what +she had been doing. + +"Oh! the trees, poor things, did not flourish; they looked sickly and +pining; she determined to give them some soil more suitable to their +natures; she had thrown the earth into the river, at the bottom of the +yard." + +"And you have thrown into the river," exclaimed Hans, frantically, "the +hoarding of three years; the money which had cost me many a weary +day--many an anxious night. The money which would have made our +fortunes--in short, that would have made me Brgermeister of Rapps." +Completely thrown off his guard, he betrayed his secret. + +"Good gracious!" cried his wife, exceedingly alarmed; "why did you not +tell me of it?" + +"Ay, that is the question!" said he. And it was a question; for, spite +of himself, it had occurred to his mind some dozens of times, and now it +came so overwhelmingly, that even when he thought he treated it with +contempt, it had fixed itself upon his better reason, and never left him +till it had worked a most fortunate revolution. He said to himself, "Had +I told my wife of it at the first, it could not possibly have happened +worse; and it is very likely it would have happened better. For the +future, then, be it so." + +Thereupon, he unfolded to her the whole history and mystery of his +troubles, and his hopes. Now, Mrs. Hans Nadeltreiber had great cause to +feel herself offended, most grievously offended; but she was not at all +of a touchy temperament. She was a sweet, tender, patient, loving +creature, who desired her husband's honor and prosperity beyond any +thing; so she sate down, and in the most mild, yet acute and able +manner, laid down to him a plan of operations, and promised him such +aids and succors, that, struck at once with shame, contrition, and +admiration, he sprung up, clasped her to his heart, called her the very +gem of womanhood, and skipped two or three times across the floor, like +a man gone out of his senses. The truth is, however, he was but just +come into them. + +From this day, a new life was begun in Hans's house. There he sat at his +work; there sat his wife by his side; aiding and contriving with a +woman's wit, a woman's love, and a woman's adroitness. She was worth ten +journeymen. Work never came in faster; never gave such satisfaction; +never brought in so much money; nor, besides this, was there ever such +harmony in the house, nor had they ever held such delectable discourse +together. There was nothing to conceal. Hans's thoughts flowed like a +great stream; and when they grew a little wild and visionary, as they +were apt to do, his wife smoothened and reduced them to sobriety, with +such a delicate touch, that, so far from feeling offended, he was +delighted beyond expression with her prudence. The fifty dollars were +raised in almost no time; and, as if prognostic of its becoming the seed +of a fortune, it came in most opportunely for purchasing a lot of cloth, +which more than trebled its cost, and gave infinite satisfaction to his +customers. Hans saw that the tide was rapidly rising with him, and his +wife urged him to push on with it; to take a larger house; to get more +hands; and to cut such a figure as should at once eclipse his rival. The +thing was done; but as their capital was still found scanty enough for +such an undertaking, Mrs. Nadeltreiber resolved to try what she could do +to increase it. + +I should have informed the reader, had not the current of Hans's +disasters ran too strong for me, that his wife's parents were dead, and +had died without giving her any token of reconciliation--a circumstance +which, although it cut her to the heart, did not quite cast her down, +feeling that she had done nothing but what a parent might forgive, being +all of us creatures alike liable to error, demanding alike some little +indulgence for our weaknesses and our fancies. Her brother was now sole +representative of the family; and knowing the generosity of his nature, +she determined to pay him a visit, although, for the first time since +her marriage, in a condition very unfit for traveling. She went. Her +brother received her with all his early affection. In his house was born +her first child; and so much did she and her bantling win upon his +heart, that when the time came that she must return, nothing would serve +but he would take her himself. She had been so loud in Hans's praise, +that he determined to go and shake him by the hand. It would have done +any one good to have seen this worthy mountaineer setting forth, seated +in his neat, green-painted wicker wagon; his sister by his side, and the +child snugly-bedded in his own corn-hopper at their feet. Thus did they +go statelily, with his great black horse drawing them. It would have +been equally pleasant to see him set down his charge at the door of +Hans's house, and behold with wonder that merry mannikin, all smiles and +gesticulation, come forth to receive them. The contrast between Hans and +his brother-in-law was truly amusing. He, a shadow-like homunculus, so +light and dry, that any wind threatened to blow him before it; the +bergman, with a countenance like the rising sun, the stature of a giant, +and limbs like an elephant. Hans watched, with considerable anxiety, the +experiment of his kinsman seating himself in a chair. The chair, +however, stood firm; and the good man surveyed Hans, in return, with a +curious and critical air, as if doubtful whether he must not hold him +in contempt for the want of that solid matter of which he himself had +too much. Hans's good qualities, however, got the better of him. "The +man's a man, though," said he to himself, very philosophically, "and as +he is good to my sister, he shall know of it." Hans delighted him every +evening, by the powers of his violin; and the bergman, excessively fond +of music, like most of his countrymen, declared that he might perform in +the emperor's orchestra, and find nobody there to beat him. When he took +his leave, therefore, he seized one of Hans's hands with a cordial gripe +that was felt through every limb, and into the other he put a bag of one +thousand rix dollars, saying, "My sister ought not to have come +dowerless into a good husband's house. This is properly her own: take +it, and much good may it do you." + +Our story need not be prolonged. The new tailor soon fled before the +star of Hans's ascendency. A very few years saw him installed into the +office of Brgermeister, the highest of earthly honors in his eyes; and +if he had one trouble left, it was only in the reflection that he might +have attained his wishes years before had he understood the heart of a +good woman. The worshipful Herr Brgermeister, and Frau Brgermeisterin +of Rapps, often visited their colossal brother of the Bhmerwald, and +were thought to reflect no discredit on the old bergman family. + + + + +[From Dickens's "Household Words."] + +LITTLE MARY.--A TALE OF THE IRISH FAMINE. + + +That was a pleasant place where I was born, though 'twas only a thatched +cabin by the side of a mountain stream, where the country was so lonely, +that in summer time the wild ducks used to bring their young ones to +feed on the bog, within a hundred yards of our door; and you could not +stoop over the bank to raise a pitcher full of water, without +frightening a shoal of beautiful speckled trout. Well, 'tis long ago +since my brother Richard, that's now grown a fine, clever man, God bless +him! and myself, used to set off together up the mountain to pick +bunches of the cotton plant and the bog myrtle, and to look for birds' +and wild bees' nests. 'Tis long ago--and though I'm happy and well off +now, living in the big house as own maid to the young ladies, who, on +account of my being foster-sister to poor darling Miss Ellen, that died +of decline, treat me more like their equal than their servant, and give +me the means to improve myself; still, at times, especially when James +Sweeney, a dacent boy of the neighbors, and myself are taking a walk +together through the fields in the cool and quiet of a summer's evening, +I can't help thinking of the times that are passed, and talking about +them to James with a sort of peaceful sadness, more happy, maybe, than +if we ware laughing aloud. + +Every evening, before I say my prayers, I read a chapter in the Bible +that Miss Ellen gave me; and last night I felt my tears dropping forever +so long over one verse, "And God shall wipe away all tears from their +eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, +neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed +away." The words made me think of them that are gone--of my father, and +his wife that was a true, fond mother to me; and above all, of my little +sister Mary, the _clureen bawn_[F] that nestled in her bosom. + +I was a wild slip of a girl, ten years of age, and my brother Richard +about two years older, when my father brought home his second wife. She +was the daughter of a farmer up at Lackabawn, and was reared with care +and dacency; but her father held his ground at a rack-rent, and the +middleman that was between him and the head landlord did not pay his own +rent, so the place was ejected, and the farmer collected every penny he +had, and set off with his family to America. My father had a liking for +the youngest daughter, and well become him to have it, for a sweeter +creature never drew the breath of life; but while her father passed for +a _strong_[G] farmer, he was timorous-like about asking her to share his +little cabin; however, when he found how matters stood, he didn't lose +much time in finding out that she was willing to be his wife, and a +mother to his boy and girl. _That_ she was, a patient loving one. Oh! it +often sticks me like a knife, when I think how many times I fretted her +with my foolishness and my idle ways, and how 'twas a long time before +I'd call her "mother." Often, when my father would be going to chastise +Richard and myself for our provoking doings, especially the day that we +took half-a-dozen eggs from under the hatching hen, to play "Blind Tom" +with them, she'd interfere for us, and say, "Tim, _aleagh_, don't touch +them this time; sure 'tis only _arch_ they are: they'll get more sense +in time." And then, after he was gone out, she'd advise us for our good +so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn't look black at her. +She did wonders, too, about the house and garden. They were both dirty +and neglected enough when she first came over them; for I was too young +and foolish, and my father too busy with his out-door work, and the old +woman that lived with us in service too feeble and too blind to keep the +place either clean or decent; but my mother got the floor raised, and +the green pool in front drained, and a parcel of roses and honey-suckles +planted there instead. The neighbors' wives used to say, 'twas all pride +and upsetting folly, to keep the kitchen-floor swept clean, and to put +the potatoes on a dish, instead of emptying them out of the pot into the +middle of the table; and, besides, 'twas a cruel, unnatural thing, they +said, to take away the pool from the ducks, that they were always used +to paddle in so handy. But my mother was always too busy and too happy +to heed what they said; and, besides, she was always so ready to do a +kind turn for any of them, that, out of poor shame, they had at last to +leave off abusing her "fine English ways." + +West of our house there was a straggling, stony piece of ground, where, +within the memory of man nothing ever grew but nettles, docks, and +thistles. One Monday, when Richard and myself came in from school, my +mother told us to set about weeding it, and to bring in some basketfuls +of good clay from the banks of the river; she said that if we worked +well at it until Saturday, she'd bring me a new frock, and Dick a +jacket, from the next market-town; and encouraged by this, we set to +work with right good will, and didn't leave off till supper time. The +next day we did the same; and by degrees, when we saw the heap of weeds +and stones that we got out, growing big, and the ground looking nice and +smooth and red and rich, we got quite anxious about it ourselves, and we +built a nice little fence round it to keep out the pigs. When it was +manured, my mother planted cabbages, parsnips, and onions in it; and, to +be sure, she got a fine crop out of it, enough to make us many a nice +supper of vegetables stewed with pepper, and a small taste of bacon or a +red herring. Besides, she sold in the market as much as bought a Sunday +coat for my father, a gown for herself, a fine pair of shoes for Dick, +and as pretty a shawl for myself, as e'er a colleen in the country could +show at mass. Through means of my father's industry and my mother's good +management, we were, with the blessing of God, as snug and comfortable a +poor family as any in Munster. We paid but a small rent, and we had +always plenty of potatoes to eat, good clothes to wear, and cleanliness +and decency in and about our little cabin. + +Five years passed on in this way, and at last little Mary was born. She +was a delicate fairy thing, with that look, even from the first, in her +blue eyes, which is seldom seen, except where the shadow of the grave +darkens the cradle. She was fond of her father, and of Richard, and of +myself, and would laugh and crow when she saw us, but _the love in the +core of her heart_ was for her mother. No matter how tired, or sleepy, +or cross the baby might be, one word from _her_ would set the bright +eyes dancing, and the little rosy month smiling, and the tiny limbs +quivering, as if walking or running couldn't content her, but she must +fly to her mother's arms. And how that mother doted on the very ground +she trod! I often thought that the Queen in her state carriage, with her +son, God bless him! alongside of her, dressed out in gold and jewels, +was not one bit happier than my mother, when she sat under the shade of +the mountain ash, near the door, in the hush of the summer's evening, +singing and _cronauning_ her only one to sleep in her arms. In the month +of October, 1845, Mary was four years old. That was the bitter time, +when first the food of the earth was turned to poison; when the gardens +that used to be so bright and sweet, covered with the purple and white +potato blossoms, became in one night black and offensive, as if fire had +come down from heaven to burn them up. 'Twas a heart-breaking thing to +see the laboring men, the crathurs! that had only the one half-acre to +feed their little families, going out, after work, in the evenings to +dig their suppers from under the black stalks. Spadeful after spadeful +would be turned up, and a long piece of a ridge dug through, before +they'd get a small kish full of such withered _crohauneens_,[H] as other +years would be hardly counted fit for the pigs. + +It was some time before the distress reached us, for there was a trifle +of money in the savings' bank, that held us in meal, while the neighbors +were next door to starvation. As long as my father and mother had it, +they shared it freely with them that were worse off than themselves; but +at last the little penny of money was all spent, the price of flour was +raised; and, to make matters worse, the farmer that my father worked +for, at a poor eight-pence a day, was forced to send him and three more +of his laborers away, as he couldn't afford to pay them even _that_ any +longer. Oh! 'twas a sorrowful night when my father brought home the +news. I remember, as well as if I saw it yesterday, the desolate look in +his face when he sat down by the ashes of the turf fire that had just +baked a yellow meal cake for his supper. My mother was at the opposite +side, giving little Mary a drink of sour milk out of her little wooden +piggin, and the child didn't like it, being delicate and always used to +sweet milk, so she said: + +"Mammy, won't you give me some of the nice milk instead of that?" + +"I haven't it _asthore_, nor can't get it," said her mother, "so don't +ye fret." + +Not a word more out of the little one's mouth, only she turned her +little cheek in toward her mother, and staid quite quiet, as if she was +hearkening to what was going on. + +"Judy," said my father, "God is good, and sure 'tis only in Him we must +put our trust; for in the wide world I can see nothing but starvation +before us." + +"God _is_ good, Tim," replied my mother; "He won't forsake us." + +Just then Richard came in with a more joyful face than I had seen on him +for many a day. + +"Good news!" says he, "good news, father! there's work for us both on +the Droumcarra road. The government works are to begin there to-morrow; +you'll get eight-pence a day, and I'll get six-pence." + +If you saw our delight when we heard this, you'd think 'twas the free +present of a thousand pounds that came to us, falling through the roof, +instead of an offer of small wages for hard work. + +To be sure the potatoes were gone, and the yellow meal was dear and dry +and chippy--it hadn't the _nature_ about it that a hot potato has for a +poor man; but still 'twas a great thing to have the prospect of getting +enough of even that same, and not to be obliged to follow the rest of +the country into the poor-house, which was crowded to that degree that +the crathurs there--God help them!--hadn't room even to die quietly in +their beds, but were crowded together on the floor like so many dogs in +a kennel. The next morning my father and Richard were off before +daybreak, for they had a long way to walk to Droumcarra, and they should +be there in time to begin work. They took an Indian meal cake with them +to eat for their dinner, and poor dry food it was, with only a draught +of cold water to wash it down. Still my father, who was knowledgeable +about such things, always said it was mighty wholesome when it was well +cooked; but some of the poor people took a great objection against it on +account of the yellow color, which they thought came from having sulphur +mixed with it--and they said, Indeed it was putting a great affront on +the decent Irish to mix up their food as if 'twas for mangy dogs. Glad +enough, poor creatures, they were to get it afterward, when sea-weed and +nettles, and the very grass by the roadside, was all that many of them +had to put into their mouths. + +When my father and brother came home in the evening, faint and tired +from the two long walks and the day's work, my mother would always try +to have something for them to eat with their porridge--a bit of butter, +or a bowl of thick milk, or maybe a few eggs. She always gave me plenty +as far as it would go; but 'twas little she took herself. She would +often go entirely without a meal, and then she'd slip down to the +huckster's, and buy a little white bun for Mary; and I'm sure it used to +do her more good to see the child eat it, than if she had got a +meat-dinner for herself. No matter how hungry the poor little thing +might be, she'd always break off a bit to put into her mother's mouth, +and she would not be satisfied until she saw her swallow it; then the +child would take a drink of cold water out of her little tin porringer, +as contented as if it was new milk. + +As the winter advanced, the weather became wet and bitterly cold, and +the poor men working on the roads began to suffer dreadfully from being +all day in wet clothes, and, what was worse, not having any change to +put on when they went home at night without a dry thread about them. +Fever soon got among them, and my father took it. My mother brought the +doctor to see him, and by selling all our decent clothes, she got for +him whatever was wanting, but all to no use: 'twas the will of the Lord +to take him to himself, and he died after a few days' illness. + +It would be hard to tell the sorrow that his widow and orphans felt, +when they saw the fresh sods planted on his grave. It was not grief +altogether like the grand stately grief of the quality, although maybe +the same sharp knife is sticking into the same sore bosom _inside_ in +both; but the _outside_ differs in rich and poor. I saw the mistress a +week after Miss Ellen died. She was in her drawing-room with the blinds +pulled down, sitting in a low chair, with her elbow on the small +work-table, and her cheek resting on her hand--not a speck of any thing +white about her but the cambric handkerchief, and the face that was +paler than the marble chimney-piece. + +When she saw me (for the butler, being busy, sent me in with the +luncheon-tray), she covered her eyes with her handkerchief, and began to +cry, but quietly, as if she did not want it to be noticed. As I was +going out, I just heard her say to Miss Alice in a choking voice: + +"Keep Sally here always; our poor darling was fond of her." And as I +closed the door, I heard her give one deep sob. The next time I saw her, +she was quite composed; only for the white cheek and the black dress, +you would not know that the burning feel of a child's last kiss had ever +touched her lips. + +My father's wife mourned for him after another fashion. _She_ could not +sit quiet, she must work hard to keep the life in them to whom he gave +it; and it was only in the evenings when she sat down before the fire +with Mary in her arms, that she used to sob and rock herself to and fro, +and sing a low, wailing keen for the father of the little one, whose +innocent tears were always ready to fall when she saw her mother cry. +About this time my mother got an offer from some of the hucksters in the +neighborhood, who knew her honesty, to go three times a week to the next +market-town, ten miles off, with their little money, and bring them back +supplies of bread, groceries, soap, and candles. This she used to do, +walking the twenty miles--ten of them with a heavy load on her back--for +the sake of earning enough to keep us alive. 'Twas very seldom that +Richard could get a stroke of work to do: the boy wasn't strong in +himself, for he had the sickness too; though he recovered from it, and +always did his best to earn an honest penny wherever he could. I often +wanted my mother to let me go in her stead and bring back the load; but +she never would hear of it, and kept me at home to mind the house and +little Mary. My poor pet lamb! 'twas little minding she wanted. She +would go after breakfast and sit at the door, and stop there all day, +watching for her mother, and never heeding the neighbors' children that +used to come wanting her to play. Through the live-long hours she would +never stir, but just keep her eyes fixed on the lonesome _boreen_;[I] +and when the shadow of the mountain-ash grew long, and she caught a +glimpse of her mother ever so far off, coming toward home, the joy that +would flush on the small, patient face, was brighter than the sunbeam on +the river. And faint and weary as the poor woman used to be, before ever +she sat down, she'd have Mary nestling in her bosom. No matter how +little she might have eaten herself that day, she would always bring +home a little white bun for Mary; and the child, that had tasted nothing +since morning, would eat it so happily, and then fall quietly asleep in +her mother's arms. + +At the end of some months I got the sickness myself, but not so heavily +as Richard did before. Any way, he and my mother tended me well through +it. They sold almost every little stick of furniture that was left, to +buy me drink and medicine. By degrees I recovered, and the first evening +I was able to sit up, I noticed a strange, wild brightness in my +mother's eyes, and a hot flush on her thin cheeks--she had taken the +fever. + +Before she lay down on the wisp of straw that served her for a bed, she +brought little Mary over to me: "Take her, Sally," she said--and between +every word she gave the child a kiss--"take her; she's safer with you +than she'd be with me, for you're over the sickness, and 'tisn't long +any way, I'll be with you, my jewel," she said, as she gave the little +creature one long close hug, and put her into my arms. + +'Twould take long to tell all about her sickness--how Richard and I, as +good right we had, tended her night and day; and how, when every +farthing and farthing's worth we had in the world was gone, the mistress +herself came down from the big house, the very day after the family +returned home from France, and brought wine, food, medicine, linen, and +every thing we could want. + +Shortly after the kind lady was gone, my mother took the change for +death; her senses came back, she grew quite strong-like, and sat up +straight in the bed. + +"Bring me the child, Sally, _aleagh_," she said. And when I carried +little Mary over to her, she looked into the tiny face, as if she was +reading it like a book. + +"You won't be long away from me, my own one," she said, while her tears +fell down upon the child like summer-rain. + +"Mother," said I, as well as I could speak for crying, "sure you _Know_ +I'll do my best to tend her." + +"I know you will, _acushla_; you were always a true and dutiful daughter +to me and to him that's gone; but, Sally, there's _that_ in my weeny one +that won't let her thrive without the mother's hand over her, and the +mother's heart for hers to lean against. And now--" It was all she could +say: she just clasped the little child to her bosom, fell back on my +arm, and in a few moments all was over. At first, Richard and I could +not believe that she was dead; and it was very long before the orphan +would loose her hold of the stiffening fingers; but when the neighbors +came in to prepare for the wake, we contrived to flatter her away. + +Days passed on; the child was very quiet; she used to go as usual to sit +at the door, and watch, hour after hour, along the road that her mother +always took coming home from market, waiting for her that could never +come again. When the sun was near setting, her gaze used to be more +fixed and eager; but when the darkness came on, her blue eyes used to +droop like the flowers that shut up their leaves, and she would come in +quietly without saying a word, and allow me to undress her and put her +to bed. + +It troubled us and the young ladies greatly that she would not eat. It +was almost impossible to get her to taste a morsel; indeed the only +thing she would let inside her lips was a bit of a little white bun, +like those her poor mother used to bring her. There was nothing left +untried to please her. I carried her up to the big house, thinking the +change might do her good, and the ladies petted her, and talked to her, +and gave her heaps of toys and cakes, and pretty frocks and coats; but +she hardly noticed them, and was restless and uneasy until she got back +to her own low, sunny door-step. + +Every day she grew paler and thinner, and her bright eyes had a sad, +fond look in them, so like her mother's. One evening she sat at the door +later than usual. + +"Come in, _alannah_," I said to her. "Won't you come in for your own +Sally?" + +She never stirred. I went over to her; she was quite still, with her +little hands crossed on her lap, and her head drooping on her chest. I +touched her--she was cold. I gave a loud scream, and Richard came +running; he stopped and looked, and then burst out crying like an +infant. Our little sister was dead! + +Well, my Mary, the sorrow was bitter, but it was short. You're gone home +to Him that comforts as a mother comforteth. _Agra machree_, your eyes +are as blue, and your hair as golden, and your voice as sweet, as they +were when you watched by the cabin-door; but your cheeks are not pale, +_acushla_, nor your little hands thin, and the shade of sorrow has +passed away from your forehead like a rain-cloud from the summer sky. +She that loved you so on earth, has clasped you forever to her bosom in +heaven; and God himself has wiped away all tears from your eyes, and +placed you both and our own dear father, far beyond the touch of sorrow +or the fear of death. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[F] White dove. + +[G] Rich. + +[H] Small potatoes. + +[I] By-road. + + + + +THE OLD WELL IN LANGUEDOC. + + +The proof of the truth of the following statement, taken from the +_Courrier de l'Europe_, rests not only upon the known veracity of the +narrator, but upon the fact that the whole occurrence is registered in +the judicial records of the criminal trials of the province of +Languedoc. We give it as we heard it from the lips of the dreamer, as +nearly as possible in his own words. + +As the junior partner in a commercial house at Lyons, I had been +traveling some time on the business of the firm, when, one evening in +the month of June, I arrived at a town in Languedoc where I had never +before been. I put up at a quiet inn in the suburbs, and, being very +much fatigued, ordered dinner at once; and went to bed almost +immediately after, determined to begin very early in the morning my +visits to the different merchants. + +I was no sooner in bed than I fell into a deep sleep, and had a +dream that made the strongest impression upon me. + +I thought that I had arrived at the same town, but in the middle of the +day, instead of the evening, as was really the case; that I had stopped +at the very same inn, and gone out immediately, as an unoccupied +stranger would do, to see whatever was worthy of observation in the +place. I walked down the main street, into another street, crossing it +at right angles, and apparently leading into the country. I had not gone +very far, when I came to a church, the Gothic portico of which I stopped +to examine. When I had satisfied my curiosity, I advanced to a by-path +which branched off from the main street. Obeying an impulse which I +could neither account for nor control, I struck into the path, though it +was winding, rugged, and unfrequented, and presently reached a miserable +cottage, in front of which was a garden covered with weeds. I had no +difficulty in getting into the garden, for the hedge had several gaps in +it, wide enough to admit four carts abreast. I approached an old well, +which stood solitary and gloomy in a distant corner; and looking down +into it, I beheld distinctly, without any possibility of mistake, a +corpse which had been stabbed in several places. I counted the deep +wounds and the wide gashes whence the blood was flowing. + +I would have cried out, but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. At +this moment I awoke, with my hair on end, trembling in every limb, and +cold drops of perspiration bedewing my forehead--awoke to find myself +comfortably in bed, my trunk standing beside me, birds warbling +cheerfully around my window; while a young, clear voice was singing a +provincial air in the next room, and the morning sun was shining +brightly through the curtains. + +I sprung from my bed, dressed myself, and, as it was yet very early, I +thought I would seek an appetite for breakfast by a morning stroll. I +accordingly entered the main street, and went along. The farther I +walked, the stranger became the confused recollection of the objects +that presented themselves to my view. "It is very strange," I thought; +"I have never been here before; and I could swear that I have seen this +house, and the next, and that other on the left." On I went, till I came +to the corner of a street, crossing the one down which I had come. For +the first time, I remembered my dream, but put away the thought as too +absurd; still, at every step, some fresh point of resemblance struck me. +"Am I still dreaming!" I exclaimed, not without a momentary thrill +through my whole frame. "Is the agreement to be perfect to the very +end?" Before long, I reached the church, with the same architectural +features that had attracted my notice in the dream; and then the +high-road, along which I pursued my way, coming at length to the same +by-path that had presented itself to my imagination a few hours before. +There was no possibility of doubt or mistake. Every tree, every turn, +was familiar to me. I was not at all of a superstitious turn, and was +wholly engrossed in the practical details of commercial business. My +mind had never dwelt upon the hallucinations, the presentiments, that +science either denies, or is unable to explain; but I must confess, that +I now felt myself spell-bound, as by some enchantment; and, with +Pascal's words on my lips, "A continued dream would be equal to +reality," I hurried forward, no longer doubting that the next moment +would bring me to the cottage; and this really was the case. In all its +outward circumstances, it corresponded to what I had seen in my dream. +Who, then, could wonder that I determined to ascertain whether the +coincidence would hold good in every other point? I entered the garden, +and went direct to the spot on which I had seen the well; but here the +resemblance failed--well, there was none. I looked in every direction; +examined the whole garden, went round the cottage, which appeared to be +inhabited, although no person was visible; but nowhere could I find any +vestige of a well. + +I made no attempt to enter the cottage, but hastened back to the hotel, +in a state of agitation difficult to describe. I could not make up my +mind to pass unnoticed such extraordinary coincidences; but how was any +clew to be obtained to the terrible mystery? + +I went to the landlord, and after chatting with him for some time on +different subjects, I came to the point, and asked him directly to whom +the cottage belonged that was on a by-road which I described to him. + +"I wonder, sir," said he, "what made you take such particular notice of +such a wretched little hovel. It is inhabited by an old man with his +wife, who have the character of being very morose and unsociable. They +rarely leave the house--see nobody, and nobody goes to see them; but +they are quiet enough, and I never heard any thing against them beyond +this. Of late, their very existence seems to have been forgotten; and I +believe, sir, that you are the first who, for years, has turned his +steps to the deserted spot." + +These details, far from satisfying my curiosity, did but provoke it the +more. Breakfast was served, but I could not touch it; and I felt that if +I presented myself to the merchants in such a state of excitement, they +would think me mad; and, indeed, I felt very much excited. I paced up +and down the room, looked out at the window, trying to fix my attention +on some external object, but in vain. I endeavored to interest myself in +a quarrel between two men in the street; but the garden and the cottage +preoccupied my mind; and, at last, snatching my hat, I cried, "I will +go, come what may." + +I repaired to the nearest magistrate, told him the object of my visit, +and related the whole circumstance briefly and clearly. I saw directly +that he was much impressed by my statement. + +"It is, indeed, very strange," said he, "and after what has happened, I +do not think I am at liberty to leave the matter without further +inquiry. Important business will prevent my accompanying you in a +search, but I will place two of the police at your command. Go once more +to the hovel, see its inhabitants, and search every part of it. You may, +perhaps, make some important discovery." + +I suffered but a very few moments to elapse before I was on my way, +accompanied by the two officers, and we soon reached the cottage. We +knocked, and after waiting for some time, an old man opened the door. He +received us somewhat uncivilly, but showed no mark of suspicion, nor, +indeed, of any other emotion, when we told him we wished to search the +house. + +"Very well, gentlemen; as fast, and as soon as you please," he replied. + +"Have you a well here?" I inquired. + +"No, sir; we are obliged to go for water to a spring at a considerable +distance." + +We searched the house, which I did, I confess, with a kind of feverish +excitement, expecting every moment to bring some fatal secret to light. +Meantime, the man gazed upon us with an impenetrable vacancy of look, +and we at last left the cottage without seeing any thing that could +confirm my suspicions. I resolved to inspect the garden once more; and a +number of idlers having been by this time collected, drawn to the spot +by the sight of a stranger with two armed men engaged in searching the +premises, I made inquiries of some of them whether they knew any thing +about a well in that place. I could get no information at first, but at +length an old woman came slowly forward, leaning on a crutch. + +"A well!" cried she; "is it the well you are looking after? That has +been gone these thirty years. I remember, as if it were only yesterday, +many a time, when I was a young girl, how I used to amuse myself by +throwing stones into it, and hearing the splash they used to make in the +water." + +"And could you tell where that well used to be?" I asked, almost +breathless with excitement. + +"As near as I can remember, on the very spot on which your honor is +standing," said the old woman. + +"I could have sworn it!" thought I, springing from the place as if I had +trod upon a scorpion. + +Need I say, that we set to work to dig up the ground. At about eighteen +inches deep, we came to a layer of bricks, which, being broken up, gave +to view some boards, which were easily removed; after which we beheld +the mouth of the well. + +"I was quite sure it was here," said the woman. "What a fool the old +fellow was to stop it up, and then have so far to go for water!" + +A sounding-line, furnished with hooks, was let down into the well; the +crowd pressing around us, and breathlessly bending over the dark and +fetid hole, the secrets of which seemed hidden in impenetrable +obscurity. This was repeated several times without any result. At +length, penetrating below the mud, the hooks caught an old chest, upon +the top of which had been thrown a great many large stones; and after +much effort and time, we succeeded in raising it to daylight. The sides +and lid were decayed and rotten; it needed no locksmith to open it; and +we found within, what I was certain we should find, and which paralyzed +with horror all the spectators, who had not my pre-convictions--we found +the remains of a human body. + +The police-officers who had accompanied me now rushed into the house, +and secured the person of the old man. As to his wife, no one could at +first tell what had become of her. After some search, however, she was +found hidden behind a bundle of fagots. + +By this time, nearly the whole town had gathered around the spot; and +now that this horrible fact had come to light, every body had some crime +to tell, which had been laid to the charge of the old couple. The people +who predict after an event, are numerous. + +The old couple were brought before the proper authorities, and privately +and separately examined. The old man persisted in his denial, most +pertinaciously; but his wife at length confessed, that, in concert with +her husband, she had once--a very long time ago--murdered a peddler, +whom they had met one night on the high-road, and who had been +incautious enough to tell them of a considerable sum of money which he +had about him, and whom, in consequence, they induced to pass the night +at their house. They had taken advantage of the heavy sleep induced by +fatigue, to strangle him; his body had been put into the chest, the +chest thrown into the well, and the well stopped up. + +The peddler being from another country, his disappearance had occasioned +no inquiry; there was no witness of the crime; and as its traces had +been carefully concealed from every eye, the two criminals had good +reason to believe themselves secure from detection. They had not, +however, been able to silence the voice of conscience; they fled from +the sight of their fellow-men; they trembled at the slightest noise, and +silence thrilled them with terror. They had often formed a determination +to leave the scene of their crime--to fly to some distant land; but +still some undefinable fascination kept them near the remains of their +victim. + +Terrified by the deposition of his wife, and unable to resist the +overwhelming proofs against him, the man at length made a similar +confession; and six weeks after, the unhappy criminals died on the +scaffold, in accordance with the sentence of the Parliament of Toulouse. +They died penitent. + +The well was once more shut up, and the cottage leveled to the ground. +It was not, however, until fifty years had in some measure deadened the +memory of the terrible transaction, that the ground was cultivated. It +is now a fine field of corn. + +Such was the dream and its result. + +I never had the courage to revisit the town where I had been an actor in +such a tragedy. + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +SUMMER PASTIME. + + + Do you ask how I'd amuse me + When the long bright summer comes, + And welcome leisure woos me + To shun life's crowded homes; + To shun the sultry city, + Whose dense, oppressive air + Might make one weep with pity + For those who must be there? + + I'll tell you then--I would not + To foreign countries roam, + As though my fancy could not + Find occupance at home; + Nor to home-haunts of fashion + Would I, least of all, repair, + For guilt, and pride, and passion, + Have summer-quarters there. + + Far, far from watering-places + Of note and name I'd keep, + For there would vapid faces + Still throng me in my sleep; + Then contact with the foolish, + The arrogant, the vain, + The meaningless--the mulish, + Would sicken heart and brain. + + No--I'd seek some shore of ocean + Where nothing comes to mar + The ever-fresh commotion + Of sea and land at war; + Save the gentle evening only + As it steals along the deep, + So spirit-like and lonely, + To still the waves to sleep. + + There long hours I'd spend in viewing + The elemental strife, + My soul the while subduing + With the littleness of life; + Of life, with all its paltry plans, + Its conflicts and its cares-- + The feebleness of all that's man's-- + The might that's God's and theirs! + + And when eve came I'd listen + To the stilling of that war, + Till o'er my head should glisten + The first pure silver star; + Then, wandering homeward slowly, + I'd learn my heart the tune + Which the dreaming billows lowly, + Were murmuring to the moon! + +R.C. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE CHEMISTRY OF A CANDLE. + + +The Wilkinsons were having a small party, it consisted of themselves and +Uncle Bagges, at which the younger members of the family, home for the +holidays, had been just admitted to assist after dinner. Uncle Bagges +was a gentleman from whom his affectionate relatives cherished +expectations of a testamentary nature. Hence the greatest attention was +paid by them to the wishes of Mr. Bagges, as well as to every +observation which he might be pleased to make. + +"Eh! what? you sir," said Mr. Bagges, facetiously addressing himself to +his eldest nephew, Harry--"Eh! what? I am glad to hear, sir, that you +are doing well at school. Now--eh! now, are you clever enough to tell me +where was Moses when he put the candle out?" + +"That depends, uncle," answered the young gentleman, "on whether he had +lighted the candle to see with at night, or by daylight to seal a +letter." + +"Eh! very good, now! 'Pon my word, very good," exclaimed Uncle Bagges. +"You must be Lord Chancellor, sir--Lord Chancellor, one of these days." + +"And now, uncle," asked Harry, who was a favorite with the old +gentleman, "can you tell me what you do when you put a candle out?" + +"Clap an extinguisher on it, you young rogue, to be sure." + +"Oh! but I mean, you cut off its supply of oxygen," said Master Harry. + +"Cut off its ox's--eh? what? I shall cut off your nose, you young dog, +one of these fine days." + +"He means something he heard at the Royal Institution," observed Mrs. +Wilkinson. "He reads a great deal about chemistry, and he attended +Professor Faraday's lectures there on the chemical history of a candle, +and has been full of it ever since." + +"Now, you sir," said Uncle Bagges, "come you here to me, and tell me +what you have to say about this chemical, eh? or comical; which? this +comical chemical history of a candle." + +"He'll bore you, Bagges," said Mrs. Wilkinson. "Harry, don't be +troublesome to your uncle." + +"Troublesome! Oh, not at all. He amuses me. I like to hear him. So let +him teach his old uncle the comicality and chemicality of a farthing +rushlight." + +"A wax candle will be nicer and cleaner, uncle, and answer the same +purpose. There's one on the mantle-shelf. Let me light it." + +"Take care you don't burn your fingers, or set any thing on fire," said +Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"Now, uncle," commenced Harry, having drawn his chair to the side of Mr. +Bagges, "we have got our candle burning. What do you see?" + +"Let me put on my spectacles," answered the uncle. + +"Look down on the top of the candle around the wick. See, it is a +little cup full of melted wax. The heat of the flame has melted the wax +just round the wick. The cold air keeps the outside of it hard, so as to +make the rim of it. The melted wax in the little cup goes up through the +wick to be burnt, just as oil does in the wick of a lamp. What do you +think makes it go up, uncle?" + +"Why--why, the flame draws it up, doesn't it?" + +"Not exactly, uncle. It goes up through little tiny passages in the +cotton wick, because very, very small channels, or pipes, or pores, have +the power in themselves of sucking up liquids. What they do it by is +called cap--something." + +"Capillary attraction, Harry," suggested Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Yes, that's it; just as a sponge sucks up water, or a bit of lump-sugar +the little drop of tea or coffee left in the bottom of a cup. But I +mustn't say much more about this, or else you will tell me I am doing +something very much like teaching my grandmother to--you know what." + +"Your grandmother, eh, young sharpshins?" + +"No--I mean my uncle. Now, I'll blow the candle out, like Moses; not to +be in the dark, though, but to see into what it is. Look at the smoke +rising from the wick. I'll hold a bit of lighted paper in the smoke, so +as not to touch the wick. But see, for all that, the candle lights +again. So this shows that the melted wax sucked up through the wick is +turned into vapor; and the vapor burns. The heat of the burning vapor +keeps on melting more wax, and that is sucked up too within the flame, +and turned into vapor, and burnt, and so on till the wax is all used up, +and the candle is gone. So the flame, uncle, you see is the last of the +candle, and the candle seems to go through the flame into +nothing--although it doesn't, but goes into several things, and isn't it +curious, as Professor Faraday said, that the candle should look so +splendid and glorious in going away." + +"How well he remembers, doesn't he?" observed Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"I dare say," proceeded Harry, "that the flame of the candle looks flat +to you; but if we were to put a lamp glass over it, so as to shelter it +from the draught, you would see it is round, round sideways, and running +up to a peak. It is drawn up by the hot air; you know that hot air +always rises, and that is the way smoke is taken up the chimney. What +should you think was in the middle of the flame?" + +"I should say, fire," replied Uncle Bagges. + +"Oh, no! The flame is hollow. The bright flame we see is something no +thicker than a thin peel, or skin; and it doesn't touch the wick. Inside +of it is the vapor I told you of just now. If you put one end of a bent +pipe into the middle of the flame, and let the other end of the pipe dip +into a bottle, the vapor or gas from the candle will mix with the air +there; and if you set fire to the mixture of gas from the candle and +air in the bottle, it would go off with a bang." + +"I wish you'd do that, Harry," said Master Tom, the younger brother of +the juvenile lecturer. + +"I want the proper things," answered Harry. "Well, uncle, the flame of +the candle is a little shining case, with gas in the inside of it, and +air on the outside, so that the case of flame is between the air and the +gas. The gas keeps going into the flame to burn, and when the candle +burns properly, none of it ever passes out through the flame; and none +of the air ever gets in through the flame to the gas. The greatest heat +of the candle is in this skin, or peel, or case of flame." + +"Case of flame!" repeated Mr. Bagges. "Live and learn. I should have +thought a candle flame was as thick as my poor old noddle." + +"I can show you the contrary," said Harry. "I take this piece of white +paper, look, and hold it a second or two down upon the candle flame, +keeping the flame very steady. Now I'll rub off the black of the smoke, +and--there--you find that the paper is scorched in the shape of a ring; +but inside the ring it is only dirtied, and not singed at all." + +"Seeing is believing," remarked the uncle. + +"But," proceeded Harry, "there is more in the candle flame than the gas +that comes out of the candle. You know a candle won't burn without air. +There must be always air around the gas, and touching it like to make it +burn. If a candle hasn't got enough air, it goes out, or burns badly, so +that some of the vapor inside of the flame comes out through it in the +form of smoke, and this is the reason of a candle smoking. So now you +know why a great clumsy dip smokes more than a neat wax candle; it is +because the thick wick of the dip makes too much fuel in proportion to +the air that can get to it." + +"Dear me! Well, I suppose there is a reason for every thing," exclaimed +the young philosopher's mamma. + +"What should you say, now," continued Harry, "if I told you that the +smoke that comes out of a candle is the very thing that makes a candle +light? Yes; a candle shines by consuming its own smoke. The smoke of a +candle is a cloud of small dust, and the little grains of the dust are +bits of charcoal, or carbon, as chemists call it. They are made in the +flame, and burned in the flame, and, while burning, make the flame +bright. They are burned the moment they are made; but the flame goes on +making more of them as fast as it burns them; and that is how it keeps +bright. The place they are made in, is in the case of flame itself, +where the strongest heat is. The great heat separates them from the gas +which comes from the melted wax, and, as soon as they touch the air on +the outside of the thin case of flame, they burn." + +"Can you tell how it is that the little bits of carbon cause the +brightness of the flame?" asked Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Because they are pieces of solid matter," answered Harry. "To make a +flame shine, there must always be some solid--or at least liquid--matter +in it." + +"Very good," said Mr. Bagges--"solid stuff necessary to brightness." + +"Some gases and other things," resumed Harry, "that burn with a flame +you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into +them. Oxygen and hydrogen--tell me if I use too hard words, +uncle--oxygen and hydrogen gases, if mixed together and blown through a +pipe, burn with plenty of heat but with very little light. But if their +flame is blown upon a piece of quick-lime, it gets so bright as to be +quite dazzling. Make the smoke of oil of turpentine pass through the +same flame, and it gives the flame a beautiful brightness directly." + +"I wonder," observed Uncle Bagges, "what has made you such a bright +youth." + +"Taking after uncle, perhaps," retorted his nephew. "Don't put my candle +and me out. Well, carbon or charcoal is what causes the brightness of +all lamps, and candles, and other common lights; so, of course, there is +carbon in what they are all made of." + +"So carbon is smoke, eh? and light is owing to your carbon. Giving light +out of smoke, eh? as they say in the classics," observed Mr. Bagges. + +"But what becomes of the candle," pursued Harry, "as it burns away? +where does it go?" + +"Nowhere," said his mamma, "I should think. It burns to nothing." + +"Oh, dear, no!" said Harry, "every thing--every body goes somewhere." + +"Eh!--rather an important consideration that," Mr. Bagges moralized. + +"You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing," +pursued Harry. "There are other things it goes into, not to be seen by +only looking, but you can get to see them by taking the right +means--just put your hand over the candle, uncle." + +"Thank you, young gentleman, I had rather be excused." + +"Not close enough down to burn you, uncle; higher up. There--you feel a +stream of hot air; so something seems to rise from the candle. Suppose +you were to put a very long, slender gas-burner over the flame, and let +the flame burn just within the end of it, as if it were a chimney, some +of the hot steam would go up and come out at the top, but a sort of dew +would be left behind in the glass chimney, if the chimney was cold +enough when you put it on. There are ways of collecting this sort of +dew, and when it is collected it turns out to be really water. I am not +joking, uncle. Water is one of the things which the candle turns into in +burning--water, coming out of fire. A jet of oil gives above a pint of +water in burning. In some lighthouses they burn, Professor Faraday says, +up to two gallons of oil in a night, and if the windows are cold, the +steam from the oil clouds the inside of the windows, and, in frosty +weather, freezes into ice." + +"Water out of a candle, eh?" exclaimed Mr. Bagges. "As hard to get, I +should have thought, as blood out of a post. Where does it come from?" + +"Part from the wax, and part from the air, and yet not a drop of it +comes either from the air or the wax. What do you make of that, uncle?" + +"Eh? Oh! I'm no hand at riddles. Give it up." + +"No riddle at all, uncle. The part that comes from the wax isn't water, +and the part that comes from the air isn't water, but when put together +they become water. Water is a mixture of two things, then. This can be +shown. Put some iron wire or turnings into a gun-barrel open at both +ends. Heat the middle of the barrel red-hot in a little furnace. Keep +the heat up, and send the steam of boiling water through the red-hot +gun-barrel. What will come out at the other end of the barrel won't be +steam; it will be gas, which doesn't turn to water again when it gets +cold, and which burns if you put a light to it. Take the turnings out of +the gun-barrel, and you will find them changed to rust, and heavier than +when they were put in. Part of the water is the gas that comes out of +the barrel, the other part is what mixes with the iron turnings, and +changes them to rust, and makes them heavier. You can fill a bladder +with the gas that comes out of the gun-barrel, or you can pass bubbles +of it up into a jar of water turned upside down in a trough, and, as I +said, you can make this part of the water burn." + +"Eh?" cried Mr. Bagges. "Upon my word. One of these days, we shall have +you setting the Thames on fire." + +"Nothing more easy," said Harry, "than to burn part of the Thames, or +any other water; I mean the gas that I have just told you about, which +is called hydrogen. In burning, hydrogen produces water again, like the +flame of the candle. Indeed, hydrogen is that part of the water, formed +by a candle burning, that comes from the wax. All things that have +hydrogen in them produce water in burning, and the more there is in +them, the more they produce. When pure hydrogen burns, nothing comes +from it but water, no smoke or soot at all. If you were to burn one +ounce of it, the water you would get would be just nine ounces. There +are many ways of making hydrogen, besides out of steam by the hot +gun-barrel. I could show it you in a moment by pouring a little +sulphuric acid mixed with water into a bottle upon a few zinc or steel +filings, and putting a cork in the bottle with a little pipe through it, +and setting fire to the gas that would come from the mouth of the pipe. +We should find the flame very hot, but having scarcely any brightness. I +should like you to see the curious qualities of hydrogen, particularly +how light it is, so as to carry things up in the air; and I wish I had +a small balloon to fill with it and make go up to the ceiling, or a +bag-pipe full of it to blow soap-bubbles with, and show how much faster +they rise than common ones, blown with the breath." + +"So do I," interposed Master Tom. + +"And so," resumed Harry, "hydrogen, you know, uncle, is part of water, +and just one-ninth part." + +"As hydrogen is to water, so is a tailor to an ordinary individual, eh?" +Mr. Bagges remarked. + +"Well, now, then, uncle, if hydrogen is the tailor's part of the water, +what are the other eight parts? The iron-turnings used to make hydrogen +in the gun-barrel, and rusted, take just those eight parts from the +water in the shape of steam, and are so much the heavier. Burn iron +turnings in the air, and they make the same rust, and gain just the same +in weight. So the other eight parts must be found in the air for one +thing, and in the rusted iron turnings for another, and they must also +be in the water; and now the question is, how to get at them?" + +"Out of the water? Fish for them, I should say," suggested Mr. Bagges. + +"Why, so we can," said Harry. "Only instead of hooks and lines, we must +use wires--two wires, one from one end, the other from the other, of a +galvanic battery. Put the points of these wires into water, a little +distance apart, and they instantly take the water to pieces. If they are +of copper, or a metal that will rust easily, one of them begins to rust, +and air-bubbles come up from the other. These bubbles are hydrogen. The +other part of the water mixes with the end of the wire and makes rust. +But if the wires are of gold, or a metal that does not rust easily, +air-bubbles rise from the ends of both wires. Collect the bubbles from +both wires in a tube, and fire them, and they turn to water again; and +this water is exactly the same weight as the quantity that has been +changed into the two gases. Now, then, uncle, what should you think +water was composed of?" + +"Eh? well--I suppose of those very identical two gases, young +gentleman." + +"Right, uncle. Recollect that the gas from one of the wires was +hydrogen, the one-ninth of water. What should you guess the gas from the +other wire to be?" + +"Stop--eh?--wait a bit--eh--oh!--why, the other eight-ninths, to be +sure." + +"Good again, uncle. Now this gas that is eight-ninths of water is the +gas called oxygen that I mentioned just now. This is a very curious gas. +It won't burn in air at all itself, like gas from a lamp, but it has a +wonderful power of making things burn that are lighted and put into it. +If you fill a jar with it--" + +"How do you manage that?" Mr. Bagges inquired. + +"You fill the jar with water," answered Harry, "and you stand it upside +down in a vessel full of water too. Then you let bubbles of the gas up +into the jar, and they turn out the water and take its place. Put a +stopper in the neck of the jar, or hold a glass plate against the mouth +of it, and you can take it out of the water, and so have bottled oxygen. +A lighted candle put into a jar of oxygen blazes up directly and is +consumed before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' Charcoal burns away in it +as fast, with beautiful bright sparks--phosphorus with a light that +dazzles you to look at--and a piece of iron or steel just made red-hot +at the end first, is burnt in oxygen quicker than a stick would be in +common air. The experiment of burning things in oxygen beats any +fire-works." + +"Oh, how jolly!" exclaimed Tom. + +"Now we see, uncle," Harry continued, "that water is hydrogen and oxygen +united together, that water is got wherever hydrogen is burnt in common +air, that a candle won't burn without air, and that when a candle burns +there is hydrogen in it burning, and forming water. Now, then, where +does the hydrogen of the candle get the oxygen from, to turn into water +with it?" + +"From the air, eh?" + +"Just so. I can't stop to tell you of the other things which there is +oxygen in, and the many beautiful and amusing ways of getting it. But as +there is oxygen in the air, and as oxygen makes things burn at such a +rate, perhaps you wonder why air does not make things burn as fast as +oxygen. The reason is, that there is something else in the air that +mixes with the oxygen and weakens it." + +"Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "But how is +that proved?" + +"Why, there is a gas, called nitrous gas, which, if you mix it with +oxygen, takes all the oxygen into itself, and the mixture of the nitrous +gas and oxygen, if you put water with it, goes into the water. Mix +nitrous gas and air together in a jar over water, and the nitrous gas +takes away the oxygen, and then the water sucks up the mixed oxygen and +nitrous gas, and that part of the air which weakens the oxygen is left +behind. Burning phosphorus in confined air will also take all the oxygen +from it, and there are other ways of doing the same thing. The portion +of air left behind is called nitrogen. You wouldn't know it from common +air by the look; it has no color, taste, nor smell, and it won't burn. +But things won't burn in it either; and any thing on fire put into it +goes out directly. It isn't fit to breathe; and a mouse, or any animal, +shut up in it dies. It isn't poisonous, though; creatures only die in it +for want of oxygen. We breathe it with oxygen, and then it does no harm, +but good; for if we breathe pure oxygen, we should breathe away so +violently, that we should soon breathe our life out. In the same way, if +the air were nothing but oxygen, a candle would not last above a minute." + +"What a tallow-chandler's bill we should have!" remarked Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"'If a house were on fire in oxygen,' as Professor Faraday said, 'every +iron bar, or rafter, or pillar, every nail and iron tool, and the +fire-place itself; all the zinc and copper roofs, and leaden coverings, +and gutters, and; pipes, would consume and burn, increasing the +combustion.'" + +"That would be, indeed, burning 'like a house on fire,'" observed Mr. +Bagges. + +"'Think,'" said Harry, continuing his quotation, "'of the Houses of +Parliament, or a steam-engine manufactory. Think of an iron-proof +chest--no proof against oxygen. Think of a locomotive and its +train--every engine, every carriage, and even every rail would be set on +fire and burnt up.' So now, uncle, I think you see what the use of +nitrogen is, and especially how it prevents a candle from burning out +too fast." + +"Eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "Well, I will say I do think we are under +considerable obligations to nitrogen." + +"I have explained to you, uncle," pursued Harry, "how a candle, in +burning, turns into water. But it turns into something else besides +that; there is a stream of hot air going up from it that won't condense +into dew; some of that is the nitrogen of the air which the candle has +taken all the oxygen from. But there is more in it than nitrogen. Hold a +long glass tube over a candle, so that the stream of hot air from it may +go up through the tube. Hold a jar over the end of the tube to collect +some of the stream of hot air. Put some lime-water, which looks quite +clear, into the jar; stop the jar, and shake it up. The lime-water, +which was quite clear before, turns milky. Then there is something made +by the burning of the candle that changes the color of the lime-water. +That is a gas, too, and you can collect it, and examine it. It is to be +got from several things, and is a part of all chalk, marble, and the +shells of eggs or of shell-fish. The easiest way to make it is by +pouring muriatic or sulphuric acid on chalk or marble. The marble or +chalk begins to hiss or bubble, and you can collect the bubbles in the +same way that you can oxygen. The gas made by the candle in burning, and +which also is got out of the chalk and marble, is called carbonic acid. +It puts out a light in a moment; it kills any animal that breathes it, +and it is really poisonous to breathe, because it destroys life even +when mixed with a pretty large quantity of common air. The bubbles made +by beer when it ferments, are carbonic acid, so is the air that fizzes +out of soda-water--and it is good to swallow though it is deadly to +breathe. It is got from chalk by burning the chalk as well as by putting +acid to it, and burning the carbonic acid out of chalk makes the chalk +lime. This is why people are killed sometimes by getting in the way of +the wind that blows from lime-kilns." + +"Of which it is advisable carefully to keep to the windward," Mr. +Wilkinson observed. + +"The most curious thing about carbonic acid gas," proceeded Harry, "is +its weight. Although it is only a sort of air, it is so heavy that you +can pour it from one vessel into another. You may dip a cup of it and +pour it down upon a candle, and it will put the candle out, which would +astonish an ignorant person; because carbonic acid gas is as invisible +as the air, and the candle seems to be put out by nothing. A soap-bubble +of common air floats on it like wood on water. Its weight is what makes +it collect in brewers' vats; and also in wells, where it is produced +naturally; and owing to its collecting in such places it causes the +deaths we so often hear about of those who go down into them without +proper care. It is found in many springs of water, more or less; and a +great deal of it comes out of the earth in some places. Carbonic acid +gas is what stupefies the dogs in the Grotto del Cane. Well, but how is +carbonic acid gas made by the candle?" + +"I hope with your candle you'll throw some light upon the subject," said +Uncle Bagges. + +"I hope so," answered Harry. "Recollect it is the burning of the smoke, +or soot, or carbon of the candle that makes the candle-flame bright. +Also that the candle won't burn without air. Likewise that it will not +burn in nitrogen, or air that has been deprived of oxygen. So the carbon +of the candle mingles with oxygen, in burning, to make carbonic acid +gas, just as the hydrogen does to form water. Carbonic acid gas, then, +is carbon or charcoal dissolved in oxygen. Here is black soot getting +invisible and changing into air; and this seems strange, uncle, doesn't +it?" + +"Ahem! Strange, if true," answered Mr. Bagges. "Eh? well! I suppose it's +all right." + +"Quite so, uncle. Burn carbon or charcoal either in the air or in +oxygen, and it is sure always to make carbonic acid, and nothing else, +if it is dry. No dew or mist gathers in a cold glass jar if you burn dry +charcoal in it. The charcoal goes entirely into carbonic acid gas, and +leaves nothing behind but ashes, which are only earthy stuff that was in +the charcoal, but not part of the charcoal itself. And now, shall I tell +you something about carbon?" + +"With all my heart," assented Mr. Bagges. + +"I said that there was carbon or charcoal in all common lights--so there +is in every common kind of fuel. If you heat coal or wood away from the +air, some gas comes away, and leaves behind coke from coal, and charcoal +from wood; both carbon, though not pure. Heat carbon as much as you will +in a close vessel, and it does not change in the least; but let the air +get to it, and then it burns and flies off in carbonic acid gas. This +makes carbon so convenient for fuel. But it is ornamental as well as +useful, uncle The diamond is nothing else than carbon." + +"The diamond, eh? You mean the black diamond." + +"No; the diamond, really and truly. The diamond is only carbon in the +shape of a crystal." + +"Eh? and can't some of your clever chemists crystallize a little bit of +carbon, and make a Koh-i-noor?" + +"Ah, uncle, perhaps we shall, some day. In the mean time, I suppose, we +must be content with making carbon so brilliant as it is in the flame of +a candle. Well; now you see that a candle-flame is vapor burning, and +the vapor, in burning, turns into water and carbonic acid gas. The +oxygen of both the carbonic acid gas and the water comes from the air, +and the hydrogen and carbon together are the vapor. They are distilled +out of the melted wax by the heat. But, you know, carbon alone can't be +distilled by any heat. It can be distilled, though, when it is joined +with hydrogen, as it is in the wax, and then the mixed hydrogen and +carbon rise in gas of the same kind as the gas in the streets, and that +also is distilled by heat from coal. So a candle is a little gas +manufactory in itself, that burns the gas as fast as it makes it." + +"Haven't you pretty nearly come to your candle's end?" said Mr. +Wilkinson. + +"Nearly. I only want to tell uncle, that the burning of a candle is +almost exactly like our breathing. Breathing is consuming oxygen, only +not so fast as burning. In breathing we throw out water in vapor and +carbonic acid from our lungs, and take oxygen in. Oxygen is as necessary +to support the life of the body, as it is to keep up the flame of a +candle." + +"So," said Mr. Bagges, "man is a candle, eh? and Shakspeare knew that, I +suppose (as he did most things), when he wrote + + "'Out, out, brief candle!' + +"Well, well; we old ones are moulds, and you young squires are dips and +rushlights, eh? Any more to tell us about the candle?" + +"I could tell you a great deal more about oxygen, and hydrogen, and +carbon, and water, and breathing, that Professor Faraday said, if I had +time; but you should go and hear him yourself, uncle." + +"Eh? well! I think I will. Some of us seniors may learn something from a +juvenile lecture, at any rate, if given by a Faraday. And now, my boy, I +will tell you what," added Mr. Bagges, "I am very glad to find you so +fond of study and science: and you deserve to be encouraged: and so I'll +give you a what-d'ye-call-it? a Galvanic Battery on your next birth-day; +and so much for your teaching your old uncle the chemistry of a candle." + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS COMPACT. + +A FREE TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. + +IN TWO PARTS.--PART I. + + +In the latter years of the last century, two youths, Ferdinand von +Hallberg, and Edward von Wensleben were receiving their education in the +military academy of Marienvheim. Among their schoolfellows they were +called Orestes and Pylades, or Damon and Pythias, on account of their +tender friendship, which constantly recalled to their schoolfellows' +minds the history of these ancient worthies. Both were sons of +officers, who had long served the state with honor, both were destined +for their father's profession, both accomplished and endowed by nature +with no mean talents. But fortune had not been so impartial in the +distribution of her favors--Hallberg's father lived on a small pension, +by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son's schooling at the +cost of the government; while Wensleben's parents willingly paid the +handsomest salary in order to insure to their only child the best +education which the establishment afforded. This disparity in +circumstances at first produced a species of proud reserve, amounting to +coldness, in Ferdinand's deportment, which yielded by degrees to the +cordial affection that Edward manifested toward him on every occasion. +Two years older than Edward, of a thoughtful and almost melancholy turn +of mind, Ferdinand soon gained a considerable influence over his weaker +friend, who clung to him with almost girlish dependence. + +Their companionship had now lasted with satisfaction and happiness to +both, for several years, and the youths had formed for themselves the +most delightful plans--how they were never to separate, how they were to +enter the service in the same regiment, and if a war broke out, how they +were to fight side by side and conquer, or die together. But destiny, or +rather Providence, whose plans are usually opposed to the designs of +mortals, had ordained otherwise for the friends than they anticipated. + +Earlier than was expected, Hallberg's father found an opportunity to +have his son appointed to an infantry regiment, and he was ordered +immediately to join the staff in a small provincial town, in an +out-of-the-way mountainous district. This announcement fell like a +thunder-bolt on the two friends; but Ferdinand considered himself by far +the more unhappy, since it was ordained that he should be the one to +sever the happy bond that bound them, and to inflict a deep wound on his +loved companion. His schoolfellows vainly endeavored to console him by +calling his attention to his new commission, and the preference which +had been shown him above so many others. He only thought of the +approaching separation; he only saw his friend's grief, and passed the +few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward's +side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand's society with jealous +care, and could not bear to lose sight of him for an instant. In one of +their most melancholy hours, excited by sorrow and youthful enthusiasm, +they bound themselves by a mysterious vow, namely, that the one whom God +should think fit to call first from this world should bind himself (if +conformable to the Divine will) to give some sign of his remembrance and +affection to the survivor. + +The place where this vow was made was a solitary spot in the garden, by +a monument of gray marble, overshadowed by dark firs, which the former +director of the institution had caused to be erected to the memory of +his son, whose premature death was recorded on the stone. + +Here the friends met at night, and by the fitful light of the moon they +pledged themselves to the rash and fanciful contract, and confirmed and +consecrated it the next morning, by a religious ceremony. After this +they were able to look the approaching separation in the face more +manfully, and Edward strove hard to quell the melancholy feeling which +had lately arisen in his mind on account of the constant foreboding that +Ferdinand expressed of his own early death. "No," thought Edward, "his +pensive turn of mind and his wild imagination cause him to reproach +himself without a cause for my sorrow and his own departure. Oh, no, +Ferdinand will not die early--he will not die before me. Providence will +not leave me alone in the world." + +The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for after Ferdinand's +departure, the house, the world itself, seemed a desert; and absorbed by +his own memories, he now recalled to mind many a dark speech which had +fallen from his absent friend, particularly in the latter days of their +intercourse, and which betokened but too plainly a presentiment of early +death. But time and youth exercised, even over these sorrows, their +irresistible influence. Edward's spirits gradually recovered their tone; +and as the traveler always has the advantage over the one who remains +behind, in respect of new objects to occupy his mind, so was Ferdinand +even sooner calmed and cheered, and by degrees he became engrossed by +his new duties, and new acquaintances, not to the exclusion, indeed, of +his friend's memory, but greatly to the alleviation of his own sorrow. +It was natural, in such circumstances, that the young officer should +console himself sooner than poor Edward. The country in which Hallberg +found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and +peculiarities of "far off" districts--simple, hospitable manners, +old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the +credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean toward the marvelous, +and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings. + +Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with +several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens +in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country +houses in the neighborhood; and the well-mannered, handsome, and +agreeable youth was welcomed every where. The simple, patriarchal life +in these old mansions and castles--the cordiality of the people, the +wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were +entirely to Hallberg's taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode +of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before +half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered +to another station, and he had to part with many friends. The first +letter which he wrote after this change, bore the impression of +impatience at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward found this natural +enough; but he was surprised in the following letters to detect signs +of a disturbed and desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his +friend's nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand's heart was +touched for the first time, and, perhaps, because the impression had +been made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable circumstances opposed +themselves to his hopes: the young lady was of an ancient family, rich, +and betrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was expected +shortly to arrive in order to claim her promised hand. Notwithstanding +this engagement, Ferdinand and the young girl had become sincerely +attached to each other, and had both resolved to dare every thing with +the hope of being united. They pledged their troth in secret; the +darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections; +and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects. +Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not intrust his +whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to +travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible +from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in +question. "You know that I love," he wrote, "therefore you know that the +object of my secret passion is worthy of any sacrifice; for you know +your friend too well to believe him capable of any blind infatuation, +and this must suffice for the present. No one must suspect what we are +to each other; no one here or round the neighborhood must have the +slightest clew to our plans. An awful personage will soon make his +appearance among us. His violent temper, his inveterate obstinacy +(according to all that one hears, of him), are well calculated to +confirm in _her_ a well-founded aversion. But family arrangements and +legal contracts exist, the fulfillment of which the opposing party are +bent on enforcing. The struggle will be hard, perhaps unsuccessful; +notwithstanding, I will strain every nerve. Should I fall, you must +console yourself, my dear Edward, with the thought, that it will be no +misfortune to your friend to be deprived of an existence rendered +miserable by the failure of his dearest hopes, and separation from his +dearest friend. Then may all the happiness which heaven has denied me be +vouchsafed to you and her, so that my spirit may look down contentedly +from the realms of light, and bless and protect you both." + +Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during +that period. His heart was full of anxiety--he read danger and distress +in the mysterious communications of Ferdinand; and every argument that +affection and good sense could suggest aid he make use of, in his +replies, to turn his friend from this path of peril which threatened to +end in a deep abyss. He tried persuasion, and urged him to desist for +the sake of their long-tried affection. But when did passion ever listen +to the expostulations of friendship? + +Ferdinand only saw one aim in life--the possession of the beloved one. +All else faded from before his eyes, and even his correspondence +slackened; for his time, was much taken up in secret excursions, +arrangements of all kinds, and communications with all manner of +persons; in fact every action of his present life tended to the +furtherance of his plan. + +All of a sudden his letters ceased. Many posts passed without a sign of +life. Edward was a prey to the greatest anxiety; he thought his friend +had staked and lost. He imagined an elopement, a clandestine marriage, a +duel with a rival, and all these casualties were the more painful to +conjecture, since his entire ignorance of the real state of things gave +his fancy full range to conjure up all sorts of misfortunes. At length, +after many more posts had come in without a line to pacify Edward's +fears, without a word in reply to his earnest entreaties for some news, +he determined on taking a step which he had meditated before, and only +relinquished out of consideration for his friend's wishes. He wrote to +the officer commanding the regiment, and made inquiries respecting the +health and abode of Lieutenant von Hallberg, whose friends in the +capital had remained for nearly two months without news of him, he who +had hitherto proved a regular and frequent correspondent. + +Another fortnight dragged heavily on, and at length the announcement +came in an official form. Lieutenant von Hallberg had been invited to +the castle of a nobleman whom he was in the custom of visiting, in order +to be present at the wedding of a lady; that he was indisposed at the +time, that he grew worse, and on the third morning had been found dead +in his bed, having expired during the night from an attack of apoplexy. + +Edward could not finish the letter, it fell from his trembling hand. To +see his worst fears realized so suddenly, overwhelmed him at first. His +youth withstood the bodily illness which would have assailed a weaker +constitution, and perhaps mitigated the anguish of his grief. He was not +dangerously, ill, but they feared many days for his reason; and it +required all the kind solicitude of the director of the college, +combined with the most skillful medical aid, to stem the torrent of his +sorrow, and to turn it gradually into a calmer channel, until by degrees +the mourner recovered both health and reason. His youthful spirits, +however, had received a blow from which they never rebounded, and one +thought lay heavy on his mind which he was unwilling to share with any +other person, and which, on that account, grew more and more painful. It +was the memory of that holy promise which had been mutually contracted, +that the survivor was to receive some token of his friend's remembrance +of him after death. Now two months had already passed since Ferdinand's +earthly career had been arrested, his spirit was free, why no sign? In +the moment of death Edward had had no intimation, no message from the +passing spirit, and this apparent neglect, so to speak, was another deep +wound in Edward's breast. Do the affections cease with life? Was it +contrary to the will of the Almighty that the mourner should taste this +consolation? Did individuality lose itself in death and with it memory? +Or did one stroke destroy spirit and body? These anxious doubts, which +have before now agitated many who reflect on such subjects, exercised +their power over Edward's mind with an intensity that none can imagine +save one whose position is in any degree similar. + +Time gradually deadened the intensity of his affliction. The violent +paroxysms of grief subsided into a deep but calm regret; it was as if a +mist had spread itself over every object which presented itself before +him, robbing them indeed of half their charms, yet leaving them visible, +and in their real relation to himself. During this mental change, the +autumn arrived, and with it the long-expected commission. It did not +indeed occasion the joy which it might have done in former days, when it +would have led to a meeting with Ferdinand, or at all events to a better +chance of meeting, but it released him from the thralldom of college, +and it opened to him a welcome sphere of activity. Now it so happened +that his appointment led him accidentally into the very neighborhood +where Ferdinand had formerly resided, only with this difference, that +Edward's squadron was quartered in the lowlands, about a short day's +journey from the town and woodland environs in question. + +He proceeded to his quarters, and found an agreeable occupation in the +exercise of his new duties. + +He had no wish to make acquaintances, yet he did not refuse the +invitations that were pressed upon him, lest he should be accused of +eccentricity and rudeness; and so he found himself soon entangled in all +sorts of engagements with the neighboring gentry and nobility. If these +so-called gayeties gave him no particular pleasure, at least for the +time they diverted his thoughts; and, with this view, he accepted an +invitation (for the new year and carnival were near at hand) to a great +shooting-match which was to be held in the mountains--a spot which it +was possible to reach in one day with favorable weather and the roads in +a good state. The day was appointed, the air tolerably clear; a mild +frost had made the roads safe and even, and Edward had every expectation +of being able to reach Blumenberg in his sledge before night, as on the +following morning the match was to take place. But as soon as he got +near the mountains, where the sun retires so early to rest, snow-clouds +drove from all quarters, a cutting wind came roaring through the +ravines, and a heavy fall of snow began. Twice the driver lost his way, +and daylight was gone before he had well recovered it; darkness came on +sooner than in other places, walled in as they were by dark mountains, +with dark clouds above their heads. It was out of the question to dream +of reaching Blumenberg that night; but in this hospitable land, where +every house-holder welcomes the passing traveler, Edward was under no +anxiety as to shelter. He only wished, before the night quite set in, to +reach some country house or castle; and now that the storm had abated in +some degree, that the heavens were a little clearer, and that a few +stars peeped out, a large valley opened before them, whose bold outline +Edward could distinguish, even in the uncertain light. The well-defined +roofs of a neat village were perceptible, and behind these, half-way up +the mountain that crowned the plain, Edward thought he could discern a +large building which glimmered with more than one light. The road led +straight into the village. Edward stopped and inquired. + +That building was, indeed, a castle; the village belonged to it, and +both were the property of the Baron Friedenberg. "Friedenberg!" repeated +Edward: the name sounded familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind +when and where he had heard it. He inquired if the family were at home, +hired a guide, and arrived at length, by a rugged path which wound +itself round steep rocks, to the summit of them, and finally to the +castle, which was perched there like an eagle's nest. The tinkling of +the bells on Edward's sledge attracted the attention of the inmates; the +door was opened with prompt hospitality--servants appeared with torches; +Edward was assisted to emerge from under the frozen apron of his +carriage, out of his heavy pelisse, stiff with hoar frost, and up a +comfortable staircase into a long saloon of simple construction, where a +genial warmth appeared to welcome him from a spacious stove in the +corner. The servants here placed two large burning candles in massive +silver sconces, and went out to announce the stranger. + +The fitting-up of the room, or rather saloon, was perfectly simple. +Family portraits, in heavy frames, hung round the walls, diversified by +some maps. Magnificent stags' horns were arranged between; and the taste +of the master of the house was easily detected in the hunting-knives, +powder-flasks, carbines, smoking-bags, and sportsmen's pouches, which +were arranged, not without taste, as trophies of the chase. The ceiling +was supported by large beams, dingy with smoke and age; and on the sides +of the room were long benches, covered and padded with dark cloth, and +studded with large brass nails; while round the dinner-table were placed +several arm-chairs, also of an ancient date. All bore the aspect of the +"good old times," of a simple patriarchal life with affluence. Edward +felt as if there were a kind welcome in the inanimate objects which +surrounded him, when the inner door opened, and the master of the house +entered, preceded by a servant, and welcomed his guest with courteous +cordiality. + +Some apologies which Edward offered on account of his intrusion, were +silenced in a moment. + +"Come, now, lieutenant," said the baron, "I must introduce you to my +family. You are no such a stranger to us, as you fancy." + +With these words he took Edward by the arm, and, lighted by the servant, +they passed through several lofty rooms, which were very handsomely +furnished, although in an old-fashioned style, with faded Flemish +carpets, large chandeliers, and high-backed chairs: everything in +keeping with what the youth had already seen in the castle. Here were +the ladies of the house. At the other end of the room, by the side of an +immense stove, ornamented with a large shield of the family arms, richly +emblazoned, and crowned by a gigantic Turk, in a most comfortable +attitude of repose sat the lady of the house, an elderly matron of +tolerable circumference, in a gown of dark red satin, with a black +mantle, and a snow-white lace cap. She appeared to be playing cards with +the chaplain, who sat opposite to her at the table, and the Baron +Friedenberg to have made the third hand at ombre, till he was called +away to welcome his guest. On the other side of the room were two young +ladies, an elder person, who might be a governess, and a couple of +children, very much engrossed by a game at loto. + +As Edward entered, the ladies rose to greet him; a chair was placed for +him near the mistress of the house, and very soon a cup of chocolate and +a bottle of tokay were served on a rich silver salver, to restore the +traveler after the cold and discomfort of his drive; in fact it was easy +for him to feel that these "far-away" people were by no means displeased +at his arrival. An agreeable conversation soon began among all parties. +His travels, the shooting match, the neighborhood, agriculture, all +afforded subjects, and in a quarter of an hour Edward felt as if he had +long been domesticated with these simple but truly well informed people. + +Two hours flew swiftly by, and then a bell sounded for supper; the +servants returned with lights, announced that the supper was on the +table, and lighted the company into the dining-room--the same into which +Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other +characters appeared on the scene--the agent, a couple of subalterns, and +the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward's +place was between the baron and his wife. The chaplain said a short +grace, when the baroness, with an uneasy look, glanced at her husband +over Edward's shoulder, and said, in a low whisper, + + "My love, we are thirteen--that will never do." + +The baron smiled, beckoned to the youngest of the clerks, and whispered +to him. The youth bowed, and withdrew. The servant took the cover away, +and served his supper in the next room. + +"My wife," said Friedenberg, "is superstitious, as all mountaineers are. +She thinks it unlucky to dine thirteen. It certainly has happened twice +(whether from chance or not who can tell?) that we have had to mourn the +death of an acquaintance who had, a short time before, made the +thirteenth at our table." + +"This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the +capital who think with the baroness," said Edward. "Although in a town +such ideas, which belong more especially to the olden time, are more +likely to be lost in the whirl and bustle which usually silences every +thing that is not essentially matter of fact." + +"Ah, yes, lieutenant," replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, "we +keep up old customs better in the mountains. You see that by our +furniture. People in the capital would call this sadly old-fashioned." + +"That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date," +rejoined Edward, courteously; "and here, if I mistake not, presides a +spirit that is ever striving after both. I must confess, baron, that +when I first entered your house, it was this very aspect of the olden +time that enchanted me beyond measure." + +"That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled +mind," answered Friedenberg; "but townspeople have seldom a taste for +such things." + +"I was partly educated on my father's estate," said Edward, "which was +situated in the Highlands; and it appeared to me as if, when I entered +your house, I were visiting a neighbor of my father's, for the general +aspect is quite the same here as with us." + +"Yes," said the chaplain, "mountainous districts have all a family +likeness: the same necessities, the same struggles with nature, the same +seclusion, all produce the same way of life among mountaineers." + +"On that account the prejudice against the number thirteen was +especially familiar to me," replied Edward. "We also dislike it; and we +retain a consideration for many supernatural, or at least inexplicable +things, which I have met with again in this neighborhood." + +"Yes, here, almost more than any where else," continued the chaplain. "I +think we excel all other mountaineers in the number and variety of our +legends and ghost stories. I assure you that there is not a cave, or a +church, or, above all, a castle, for miles round about, of which we +could not relate something supernatural." + +The baroness, who perceived the turn which the conversation was likely +to take, thought it better to send the children to bed; and when they +were gone, the priest continued, "Even here, in this castle--" + +"Here!" inquired Edward, "in this very castle?" + +"Yes, yes, lieutenant!" interposed the baron, "this house has the +reputation of being haunted; and the most extraordinary thing is, that +the matter can not be denied by the skeptical, or accounted for by the +reasonable." + +"And yet," said Edward, "the castle looks so cheerful, so habitable." + +"Yes, this part which we live in," answered the baron; "but it consists +of only a few apartments sufficient for my family and these gentlemen; +the other portion of the building is half in ruins, and dates from the +period when men established themselves on the mountains for greater +safety." + +"There are some who maintain," said the physician, "that a part of the +walls of the eastern tower itself are of Roman origin; but that would +surely be difficult to prove." + +"But, gentlemen," observed the baroness, "you are losing yourselves in +learned descriptions as to the erection of the castle, and our guest is +kept in ignorance of what he is anxious to hear." + +"Indeed, madam," replied the chaplain, "this is not entirely foreign to +the subject, since in the most ancient part of the building lies the +chamber in question." + +"Where apparitions have been seen?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"Not exactly," replied the baroness; "there is nothing fearful to be +seen." + +"Come, let us tell him at once," interrupted the baron. "The fact is, +that every guest who sleeps for the first time in this room (and it has +fallen to the lot of many, in turn, to do so), is visited by some +important, significant dream or vision, or whatever I ought to call it, +in which some future event is prefigured to him, or some past mystery +cleared up, which he had vainly striven to comprehend before." + +"Then," interposed Edward, "it must be something like what is known in +the Highlands under the name of second sight, a privilege, as some +consider it, which several persons and several families enjoy." + +"Just so," said the physician, "the cases are very similar; yet the most +mysterious part of this affair is, that it does not appear to originate +with the individual, or his organization, or his sympathy with beings of +the invisible world; no, the individual has nothing to say to it--the +locality does it all. Every one who sleeps in that room has his +mysterious dream, and the result proves its truth." + +"At least in most instances," continued the baron, "when we have had an +opportunity of hearing the cases confirmed. I remember once in +particular. You may recollect, lieutenant, that when you first came in I +had the honor of telling you, you were not quite a stranger to me." + +"Certainly, baron; and I have been wishing for a long time to ask an +explanation of these words." + +"We have often heard your name mentioned by a particular friend of +yours--one who could never, pronounce it without emotion." + +"Ah!" cried Edward, who now saw clearly why the baron's name had sounded +familiar to him also; "ah! you speak of my friend Hallberg; truly do you +say, we were indeed dear to each other." + +"Were!" echoed the baron, in a faltering tone, as he observed the +sudden change in Edward's voice and countenance; "can the blooming, +vigorous youth be--" + +"Dead!" exclaimed Edward; and the baron deeply regretted that he had +touched so tender a chord, as he saw the young officer's eyes fill with +tears, and a dark cloud pass over his animated features. + +"Forgive me," he continued, while he leaned forward and pressed his +companion's hand; "I grieve that a thoughtless word should have awakened +such deep sorrow. I had no idea of his death; we all loved the handsome +young man, and by his description of you were already much interested in +you before we had ever seen you." + +The conversation now turned entirely on Hallberg. Edward related the +particulars of his death. Every one present had something to say in his +praise; and although this sudden allusion to his dearest friend had +agitated Edward in no slight degree, yet it was a consolation to him to +listen to the tribute these worthy people paid to the memory of +Ferdinand, and to see how genuine was their regret at the tidings of his +early death. The time passed swiftly away in conversation of much +interest, and the whole, company were surprised to hear ten o'clock +strike; an unusually late hour for this quiet, regular family. The +chaplain read prayers, in which Edward devoutly joined, and then he +kissed the matron's hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father's +house. The baron offered to show his guest to his room, and the servant +preceded them with lights. The way led past the staircase, and then on +one side into a long gallery, which communicated with another wing of +the castle. + +The high-vaulted ceilings, the curious carving on the ponderous +doorways, the pointed gothic windows, through many broken panes of which +a sharp night wind whistled, proved to Edward that he was in the old +part of the castle, and that the famous chamber could not be far off. + +"Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there," he began, rather +timidly; "I should like it of all things." + +"Really!" inquired the baron, rather surprised; "have not our ghost +stories alarmed you?" + +"On the contrary," was the reply, "they have excited the most earnest +wish--" + +"Then, if that be the case," said the baron, "we will return. The room +was already prepared for you, being the most comfortable and the best in +the whole wing; only I fancied, after our conversation--" + +"Oh, certainly not," exclaimed Edward; "I could only long for such +dreams." + +During this discourse they had arrived at the door of the famous room. +They went in. They found themselves in a lofty and spacious apartment, +so large that the two candles which the servant carried, only, shed a +glimmering twilight over it, which did not penetrate to the furthest +corner. A high-canopied bed, hung with costly but old-fashioned damask, +of a dark green, in which were swelling pillows of snowy whiteness, tied +with green bows, and a silk coverlet of the same color, looked very +inviting to the tired traveler. Sofa and chairs of faded needlework, a +carved oak commode and table, a looking-glass in heavy framework, a +prie-dieu and crucifix above it, constituted the furniture of the room, +where, above all things, cleanliness and comfort preponderated, while a +good deal of silver plate was spread out on the toilet-table. + +Edward looked round. "A beautiful room!" he said. "Answer me one +question, baron, if you please. Did he ever sleep here?" + +"Certainly," replied Friedenberg; "it was his usual room when he was +here, and he had a most curious dream in that bed, which, as he assured +us, made a great impression on him." + +"And what was it?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"He never told us, for, as you well know, he was reserved by nature; but +we gathered from some words that he let slip, that an early and sudden +death was foretold. Alas! your narrative has confirmed the truth of the +prediction." + +"Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has he +grieved me by alluding to it," said Edward; "yet it never made him +gloomy or discontented. He went on his way firmly and calmly, and looked +forward with joy, I might almost say, to another life." + +"He was a superior man," answered the baron, "whose memory will ever be +dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good-night. Here is the +bell," he showed him the cord in between the curtains; "and your servant +sleeps in the next room." + +"Oh, you are too careful of me," said Edward, smiling; "I am used to +sleep by myself." + +"Still," replied the baron, "every precaution should be taken. Now, once +more, good night." + +He shook him by the hand, and, followed by the servant, left the room. + +Thus Edward found himself alone in the large, mysterious-looking, +haunted room, where his deceased friend had so often reposed--where he +also was expected to see a vision. The awe which the place itself +inspired, combined with the sad and yet tender recollection of the +departed Ferdinand, produced a state of mental excitement which was not +favorable to his night's rest. He had already undressed with the aid of +his servant (whom he had then dismissed), and had been in bed some time, +having extinguished the candles. No sleep visited his eyelids; and the +thought recurred which had so often troubled him, why he had never +received the promised token from Ferdinand, whether his friend's spirit +were among the blest--whether his silence (so to speak) proceeded from +unwillingness or incapacity to communicate with the living. A mingled +train of reflections agitated his mind: his brain grew heated; his +pulse beat faster and faster. The castle clock tolled eleven--half past +eleven. He counted the strokes; and at that moment the moon rose above +the dark margin of the rocks which surrounded the castle, and shed her +full light into Edward's room. Every object stood out in relief from the +darkness. Edward gazed, and thought, and speculated. It seemed to him as +if something moved in the furthest corner of the room. The movement was +evident--it assumed a form--the form of a man, which appeared to +advance, or rather to float forward. Here Edward lost all sense of +surrounding objects, and he found himself once more sitting at the foot +of the monument, in the garden of the academy, where he had contracted +the bond with his friend. As formerly, the moon streamed through the +dark branches of the fir-trees, and shed its cold, pale light on the +cold, white marble of the monument. Then the floating form which had +appeared in the room of the castle became clearer, more substantial, +more earthly-looking; it issued from behind the tombstone, and stood in +the full moonlight. It was Ferdinand, in the uniform of his regiment, +earnest and pale, but with a kind smile on his features. + +"Ferdinand, Ferdinand!" cried Edward, overcome by joy and surprise, and +he strove to embrace the well-loved form, but it waved him aside with a +melancholy look. + +"Ah! you are dead," continued the speaker; "and why then do I see you +just as you looked when living?" + +"Edward," answered the apparition, in a voice that sounded as if it came +from afar, "I am dead, but my spirit has no peace." + +"You are not with the blest?" cried Edward, in a voice of terror. + +"God is merciful," it replied; "but we are frail and sinful creatures; +inquire no more, but pray for me." + +"With all my heart," cried Edward, in a tone of anguish, while he gazed +with affection on the familiar features; "but speak, what can I do for +thee?" + +"An unholy tie still binds me to earth. I have sinned. I was cut off in +the midst of my sinful projects. This ring burns." He slipped a small +gold ring from his left hand. "Only when every token of this unholy +compact is destroyed, and when I recover the ring which I exchanged for +this, only then can my spirit be at rest. Oh, Edward, dear Edward, bring +me back my ring!" + +"With joy--but where, where am I to seek it?" + +"Emily Varnier will give it thee herself; our engagement was contrary to +holy duties, to prior engagements, to earlier vows. God denied his +blessing to the guilty project, and my course was arrested in a fearful +manner. Pray for me, Edward, and bring back the ring, my ring," +continued the voice, in a mournful tone of appeal. + +Then the features of the deceased smiled sadly but tenderly; then all +appeared to float once more before Edward's eyes--the form was lost in +mist, the monument, the fir grove, the moonlight, disappeared: a long, +gloomy, breathless pause followed. Edward lay, half sleeping, half +benumbed, in a confused manner; portions of the dream returned to +him--some images, some sounds--above all, the petition for the +restitution of the ring. But an indescribable power bound his limbs, +closed his eyelids, and silenced his voice; mental consciousness alone +was left him, yet his mind was a prey to terror. + +At length these painful sensations subsided--his nerves became more +braced, his breath came more freely, a pleasing languor crept over his +limbs, and he fell into a peaceful sleep. When he awoke it was already +broad daylight; his sleep toward the end of the night had been quiet and +refreshing. He felt strong and well, but as soon as the recollection of +his dream returned, a deep melancholy took possession of him, and he +felt the traces of tears which grief had wrung from him on his +eyelashes. But what had the vision been? A mere dream engendered by the +conversation of the evening, and his affection for Hallberg's memory, or +was it at length the fulfillment of the compact? + +There, out of that dark corner, had the form risen up, and moved toward +him. But might it not have been some effect of light and shade produced +by the moonbeams, and the dark branches of a large tree close to the +window, when agitated by the high wind? Perhaps he had seen this, and +then fallen asleep, and all combined had woven itself into a dream. But +the name of Emily Varnier! Edward did not remember ever to have heard +it; certainly it had never been mentioned in Ferdinand's letters. Could +it be the name of his love, of the object of that ardent and unfortunate +passion? Could the vision be one of truth? He was meditating, lost in +thought, when there was a knock at his door, and the servant entered. +Edward rose hastily, and sprang out of bed. As he did so, he heard +something fall with a ringing sound; the servant stooped and picked up a +gold ring, plain gold, like a wedding-ring. Edward shuddered; he +snatched it from the servant's hand, and the color forsook his cheeks as +he read the two words "Emily Varnier" engraved inside the hoop. He stood +there like one thunderstruck, as pale as a corpse, with the proof in his +hand that he had not merely dreamed, but had actually spoken with the +spirit of his friend. A servant of the household came in to ask whether +the lieutenant wished to breakfast in his room, or down stairs with the +family. Edward would willingly have remained alone with the thoughts +that pressed heavily on him, but a secret dread lest his absence should +be remarked, and considered as a proof of fear, after all that had +passed on the subject of the haunted room, determined him to accept the +last proposal. He dressed hastily, and arranged his hair carefully, but +the paleness of his face and the traces of tears in his eyes, were not +to be concealed, and he entered the saloon, where the family were +already assembled at the breakfast-table, with the chaplain and the +doctor. + +The baron rose to greet him; one glance at the young officer's face was +sufficient; he pressed his hand in silence, and led him to a place by +the side of the baroness. An animated discussion now began concerning +the weather, which was completely changed; a strong south wind had risen +in the night, so there was now a thaw. The snow was all melted--the +torrents were flowing once more, and the roads impassable. + +"How can you possibly reach Blumenberg, to-day?" the baron inquired of +his guest. + +"That will be well nigh impossible," said the doctor. "I am just come +from a patient at the next village, and I was nearly an hour performing +the same distance in a carriage that is usually traversed on foot in a +quarter of an hour." + +Edward had not given a thought this morning to the shooting-match. Now +that it had occurred to him to remember it, he felt little regret at +being detained from a scene of noisy festivity which, far from being +desirable, appeared to him actually distasteful in his present frame of +mind. Yet he was troubled, by the thought of intruding too long on the +hospitality of his new friends; and he said, in a hesitating manner, + + "Yes! but I must try how far---" + +"That you shall not do," interrupted the baron. "The road is always bad, +and in a thaw it is really dangerous. It would go against my conscience +to allow you to risk it. Remain with us; we have no shooting-match or +ball to offer you, but--" + +"I shall not certainly regret either," cried Edward, eagerly. + +"Well, then, remain with us, lieutenant," said the matron, lying her +hand on his arm, with a kind, maternal gesture. "You are heartily +welcome; and the longer you stay with us, the better shall we be +pleased." + +The youth bowed, and raised the lady's hand to his lips, and said, + +"If you will allow me--if you feel certain that I am not intruding--I +will accept, your kind offer with joy. I never care much for a ball, at +any time, and to-day in particular--" he stopped short, and then added, +"In such bad weather as this, the small amusement--" + +"Would be dearly bought," interposed the baron. "Come, I am delighted +you will remain with us." + +He shook Edward warmly by the hand. + +"You know you are with old friends." + +"And, besides," said the doctor, with disinterested solicitude, "it +would be imprudent, for M. de Wensleben does not look very well. Had you +a good night, sir?" + +"Very good," replied Edward. + +"Without much dreaming?" continued the other, pertinaciously + +"Dreaming! oh, nothing wonderful," answered the officer. + +"Hem!" said the doctor, shaking his head, portentously. "No one yet--" + +"Were I to relate my dream," replied Edward, "you would understand it no +more than I did. Confused images--" + +The baroness, who saw the youth's unwillingness to enlarge upon the +subject, here observed, + +"That some of the visions had been of no great importance--those which +she had heard related, at least." + +The chaplain led the conversation from dreams themselves, to their +origin, on which subject he and the doctor could not agree; and Edward +and his visions were left in peace at last. But when every one had +departed, each to his daily occupation, Edward followed the baron into +his library. + +"I answered in that manner," he said, "to get rid of the doctor and his +questioning. To you I will confess the truth. Your room has exercised +its mysterious influence over me." + +"Indeed!" said the baron, eagerly. + +"I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his +death. I will trust to your kindness--your sympathy--not to require of +me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put +to you." + +"Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible." + +"Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?" + +"Varnier!--certainly not." + +"Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?" + +"No one; it sounds like a foreign name." + +"In the bed in which I slept I found this ring," said Edward, while he +produced it; and the apparition of my friend pronounced that name. + +"Wonderful! As I tell you, I know no one so called--this is the first +time I ever heard the name. But it is entirely unaccountable to me, how +the ring should have come into that bed. You see, M. von Wensleben, what +I told you is true. There is something very peculiar about that room; +the moment you entered, I saw that the spell had been working on you +also, but I did not wish to forestall or force your confidence." + +"I felt the delicacy, as I do now the kindness, of your intentions. +Those who are as sad as I am can alone tell the value of tenderness and +sympathy." + +Edward remained this day and the following at the castle, and felt quite +at home with its worthy inmates. He slept twice in the haunted room. He +went away, and came back often; was always welcomed cordially, and +always quartered in the same apartment. But, in spite of all this, he +had no clew, he had no means of lifting the vail of mystery which hung +round the fate of Ferdinand Hallberg and of Emily Varnier. + + +PART II.--CONCLUSION. + +Several weeks passed away. Edward spared no pains to discover some trace +of the lady in question, but all in vain. No one in the neighborhood +knew the family; and he had already determined, as soon as the spring +began, to ask for leave of absence, and to travel through the country +where Ferdinand had formed his unfortunate attachment, when a +circumstance occurred which coincided strangely with his wishes. His +commanding officer gave him a commission to purchase some horses, which, +to his great consolation, led him exactly into that part of the country +where Ferdinand had been quartered. It was a market-town of some +importance. He was to remain there some time, which suited his plans +exactly; and he made use of every leisure hour to cultivate the +acquaintance of the officers, to inquire into Ferdinand's connections +and acquaintance, to trace the mysterious name if possible, and thus +fulfill a sacred duty. For to him it appeared a sacred duty to execute +the commission of his departed friend--to get possession of the ring, +and to be the means, as he hoped, of giving rest to the troubled spirit +of Ferdinand. + +Already, on the evening of the second day, he was sitting in the +coffee-room with burghers of the place and officers of different +regiments. A newly-arrived cornet was inquiring whether the neighborhood +were a pleasant one, of an infantry officer, one of Hallberg's corps. +"For," said he, "I come from charming quarters." + +"There is not much to boast of," replied the captain. "There is no good +fellowship, no harmony among the people." + +"I will tell you why that is," cried an animated lieutenant; "that is +because there is no house as a point of reunion, where one is sure to +find and make acquaintances, and to be amused, and where each individual +ascertains his own merits by the effect they produce on society at +large." + +"Yes, we have had nothing of that kind since the Varniers left us," said +the captain. + +"Varniers!" cried Edward, with an eagerness he could ill conceal. "The +name sounds foreign." + +"They were not Germans--they were emigrants from the Netherlands, who +had left their country on account of political troubles," replied the +captain. + +"Ah, that was a charming house," cried the lieutenant, "cultivation, +refinement, a sufficient competency, the whole style of the +establishment free from ostentation, yet most comfortable; and +Emily--Emily was the soul of the whole house." + +"Emily Varnier!" echoed Edward, while his heart beat fast and loud. + +"Yes, yes! that was the name of the prettiest, most graceful, most +amiable girl in the world," said the lieutenant. + +"You seem bewitched by the fair Emily," observed the cornet. + +"I think you would have been too, had you known her;" rejoined the +lieutenant; "she was the jewel of the whole society. Since she went away +there is no bearing their stupid balls and assemblies." + +"But you must not forget," the captain resumed once more, "when you +attribute every thing to the charms of the fair girl, that not only she +but the whole family has disappeared, and we have lost that house which +formed, as you say, so charming a point of reunion in our neighborhood." + +"Yes, yes; exactly so," said an old gentleman, a civilian, who had been +silent hitherto; "the Varniers' house is a great loss in the country, +where such losses are not so easily replaced as in a large town. First, +the father died, then came the cousin and carried the daughter away." + +"And did this cousin marry the young lady?" inquired Edward, in a tone +tremulous with agitation. + +"Certainly," answered the old gentleman; "it was a very great match for +her; he bought land to the value of half a million about here." + +"And he was an agreeable, handsome man, we must all allow," remarked the +captain. + +"But she would never have married him," exclaimed the lieutenant, "if +poor Hallberg had not died." + +Edward was breathless, but he did not speak a word. + +"She would have been compelled to do so in any case," said the old man; +"the father had destined them for each other from infancy, and people +say he made his daughter take a vow as he lay on his death-bed." + +"That sounds terrible," said Edward; "and does not speak much for the +good feeling of the cousin." + +"She could not have fulfilled her father's wish," interposed the +lieutenant; "her heart was bound up in Hallberg, and Hallberg's in her. +Few people, perhaps, knew this, for the lovers were prudent and +discreet; I, however, knew it all." + +"And why was she not allowed to follow the inclination of her heart?" +asked Edward. + +"Because her father had promised her," replied the captain: "you used +just now the word terrible; it is a fitting expression, according to my +version of the matter. It appears that one of the branches of the house +of Varnier had committed an act of injustice toward another, and Emily's +father considered it a point of conscience to make reparation. Only +through the marriage of his daughter with a member of the ill-used +branch could that act be obliterated and made up for, and, therefore, he +pressed the matter sorely." + +"Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with +abetted his designs." + +"Then her cousin loved Emily?" inquired Edward. + +"Oh, to desperation," was the reply; "He was a rival to her shadow, who +followed her not more closely than he did. He was jealous of the rose +that she placed on her bosom." + +"Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man," +said Edward. + +"Come," interposed the old gentleman, with an authoritative tone, "I +think you, gentlemen, go a little too far. I know D'Effernay; he is an +honest, talented man, very rich, indeed, and generous; he anticipates +his wife in every wish. She has the most brilliant house in the +neighborhood, and lives like a princess." + +"And trembles," insisted the lieutenant, "when she hears her husband's +footstep. What good can riches be to her? She would have been happier +with Hallberg." + +"I do not know," rejoined the captain, "why you always looked upon that +attachment as something so decided. It never appeared so to me; and you +yourself say that D'Effernay is very jealous, which I believe him to be, +for he is a man of strong passions; and this very circumstance causes me +to doubt the rest of your story. Jealousy has sharp eyes, and D'Effernay +would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the +friend he always was to our poor comrade." + +"That does not follow at all," rejoined the lieutenant, "it only proves +that the lovers were very cautious. So far, however, I agree with you. I +believe that if D'Effernay had suspected any thing of the kind he would +have murdered Hallberg." + +A shudder passed through Edward's veins. + +"Murdered!" he repeated in a hollow voice; "do you not judge too harshly +of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?" + +"That does he, indeed," said the old man; "these gentlemen are all angry +with D'Effernay, because he has carried off the prettiest girl in the +country. But I am told he does not intend remaining where he now lives. +He wishes to sell his estates." + +"Really," inquired the captain, "and where is he going?" + +"I have no idea," replied the other; "but he is selling every thing off. +One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in +negotiation for the place where he resides." + +The conversation now turned on the value of D'Effernay's property, and +of land in general, &c. + +Edward had gained materials enough for reflection; he rose soon, took +leave of the company, and gave himself up, in the solitude of his own +room, to the torrent of thought and feeling which that night's +conversation had let loose. So, then, it was true; Emily Varnier was no +fabulous being! Hallberg had loved her, his love had been returned, but +a cruel destiny had separated them. How wonderfully did all he had heard +explain the dream at the Castle, and how completely did that supply what +had remained doubtful, or had been omitted in the officer's narrative. +Emily Varnier, doubtless, possessed that ring, to gain possession of +which now seemed his bounden duty. He resolved not to delay its +fulfillment a moment, however difficult it might prove, and he only +reflected on the best manner in which he should perform the task +allotted to him. The sale of the property appeared to him a favorable +opening. The fame of his father's wealth made it probable that the son +might wish to be a purchaser of a fine estate, like the one in question. +He spoke openly of such a project, made inquiries of the old gentleman, +and the captain, who seemed to him to know most about the matter; and as +his duties permitted a trip for a week or so, he started immediately, +and arrived on the second day at the place of his destination. He +stopped in the public house in the village to inquire if the estate lay +near, and whether visitors were allowed to see the house and grounds. +Mine host, who doubtless had had his directions, sent a messenger +immediately to the Castle, who returned before long, accompanied by a +chasseur, in a splendid livery, who invited the stranger to the Castle +in the name of M. D'Effernay. + +This was exactly what Edward wished, and expected. Escorted by the +chasseur he soon arrived at the Castle, and was shown up a spacious +staircase into a modern, almost, one might say, a +magnificently-furnished room, where the master of the house received +him. It was evening, toward the end of winter, the shades of twilight +had already fallen, and Edward found himself suddenly in a room quite +illuminated with wax candles. D'Effernay stood in the middle of the +saloon, a tall, thin young man. A proud bearing seemed to bespeak a +consciousness of his own merit, or at least of his position. His +features were finely formed, but the traces of stormy passion, or of +internal discontent, had lined them prematurely. + +In figure he was very slender, and the deep sunken eye, the gloomy frown +which was fixed between his brows, and the thin lips, had no very +prepossessing expression, and yet there was something imposing in the +whole appearance of the man. + +Edward thanked him civilly for his invitation, spoke of his idea of +being a purchaser as a motive for his visit, and gave his own, and his +father's name. D'Effernay seemed pleased with all he said. He had known +Edward's family in the metropolis; he regretted that the late hour would +render it impossible for them to visit the property to-day, and +concluded by pressing the lieutenant to pass the night at the Castle. On +the morrow they would proceed to business, and now he would have the +pleasure of presenting his wife to the visitor. Edward's heart beat +violently--at length then he would see her! Had he loved her himself he +could not have gone to meet her with more agitation. D'Effernay led his +guest through many rooms, which were all as well furnished, and as +brilliantly lighted, as the first he had entered. At length he opened +the door of a small boudoir, where there was no light, save that which +the faint, gray twilight imparted through the windows. + +The simple arrangement of this little room, with dark green walls, only +relieved by some engravings and coats of arms, formed a pleasing +contrast to Edward's eyes, after the glaring splendor of the other +apartments. From behind a piano-forte, at which she had been seated in a +recess, rose a tall, slender female form, in a white dress of extreme +simplicity. + +"My love," said D'Effernay, "I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant +Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate." + +Emily courtesied; the friendly twilight concealed the shudder that +passed over her whole frame, as she heard the familiar name which +aroused so many recollections. + +She bade the stranger welcome, in a low, sweet voice, whose tremulous +accents were not unobserved by Edward; and while the husband made some +further observation, he had leisure to remark, as well as the fading +light would allow, the fair outline of her oval face, the modest grace +of her movements, her pretty nymph-like figure--in fact, all those +charms which seemed familiar to him through the impassioned descriptions +of his friend. + +"But what can this fancy be, to sit in the dark?" asked D'Effernay, in +no mild tone; "you know that is a thing I can not bear:" and with these +words, and without waiting his wife's answer, he rang the bell over her +sofa, and ordered lights. + +While these were placed on the table, the company sat down by the fire, +and conversation commenced. By the full light Edward could perceive all +Emily's real beauty--her pale, but lovely face, the sad expression of +her large blue eyes, so often concealed by their dark lashes, and then +raised, with a look full of feeling, a sad, pensive, intellectual +expression; and he admired the simplicity of her dress, and of every +object that surrounded her: all appeared to him to bespeak a superior +mind. + +They had not sat long, before D'Effernay was called away. One of his +people had something important, something urgent to communicate to him, +which admitted of no delay. A look of fierce anger almost distorted his +features; in an instant his thin lips moved rapidly, and Edward thought +he muttered some curses between his teeth. He left the room, but in so +doing, he cast a glance of mistrust and ill-temper on the handsome +stranger with whom he was compelled to leave his wife alone. Edward +observed it all. All that he had seen to-day--all that he had heard from +his comrades of the man's passionate and suspicious disposition, +convinced him that his stay here would not be long, and that, perhaps, a +second opportunity of speaking alone with Emily might not offer itself. + +He determined, therefore, to profit by the present moment: and no sooner +had D'Effernay left the room, than he began to tell Emily she was not so +complete a stranger to him as it might seem; that long before he had had +the pleasure of seeing her--even before he had heard her name--she was +known to him, so to speak, in spirit. + +Madame D'Effernay was moved. She was silent for a time, and gazed +fixedly on the ground; then she looked up; the mist of unshed tears +dimmed her blue eyes, and her bosom heaved with the sigh she could not +suppress. + +"To me also the name of Wensleben is familiar. There is a link between +our souls. Your friend has often spoken of you to me." + +But she could say no more; tears checked her speech. + +Edward's eyes were glistening also, and the two companions were silent; +at length he began once more: + +"My dear lady," he said, "my time is short, and I have a solemn message +to deliver to you. Will you allow me to do so now?" + +"To me?" she asked, in a tone of astonishment. + +"From my departed friend," answered Edward, emphatically. + +"From Ferdinand? and that now--after--" she shrunk back, as if in +terror. + +"Now that he is no longer with us, do you mean? I found the message in +his papers, which have been intrusted to me only lately, since I have +been in the neighborhood. Among them was a token which I was to restore +to you." He produced the ring. Emily seized it wildly, and trembled as +she looked upon it. + +"It is indeed my ring," she said at length, "the same which I gave him +when we plighted our troth in secret. You are acquainted with every +thing, I perceive; I shall therefore risk nothing if I speak openly." +She wept, and pressed the ring to her lips. + +"I see that my friend's memory is dear to you," continued Edward. "You +will forgive the prayer I am about to make to you; my visit to you +concerns his ring." + +"How--what is it you wish?" cried Emily, terrified. + +"It was _his_ wish," replied Edward. "He evinced an earnest desire to +have this pledge of an unfortunate and unfulfilled engagement restored." + +"How is that possible? You did not speak with him before his death; and +this happened so suddenly after, that, to give you the commission--" + +"There was no time for it! that is true," answered Edward, with an +inward, shudder, although outwardly he was calm. "Perhaps this wish was +awakened immediately before his death. I found it, as I told you, +expressed in those papers." + +"Incomprehensible!" she exclaimed. "Only a short time before his death, +we cherished--deceitful, indeed, they proved, but, oh, what blessed +hopes!--we reckoned on casualties, on what might possibly occur to +assist us. Neither of us could endure to dwell on the idea of +separation; and yet--yet since--Oh, my God!" she cried, overcome by +sorrow, and she hid her face between her hands. Edward was lost in +confused thought. For a time both again were silent; at length Emily +started up-- + +"Forgive me, M. de Wensleben. What you have related to me, what you have +asked of me, has produced so much excitement, so much agitation, that it +is necessary that I should be alone for a few moments, to recover my +composure." + +"I am gone," cried Edward, springing from his chair. + +"No! no!" she replied, "you are my guest; remain here. I have a +household duty which calls me away." She laid a stress on these words. + +She leant forward, and with a sad, sweet smile, she gave her hand to the +friend of her lost Ferdinand, pressing his gently, and disappeared +through the inner door. + +Edward stood stunned, bewildered; then he paced the room with hasty +steps, threw himself on the sofa, and took up one of the books that lay +on the table, rather to have something in his hand, than to read. It +proved to be Young's "Night Thoughts." He looked through it, and was +attracted by many passages, which seemed, in his present frame of mind, +fraught with peculiar meaning; yet his thoughts wandered constantly from +the page to his dead friend. The candles, unheeded both by Emily and +him, burned on with long wicks, giving little light in the silent room, +over which the red glare from the hearth shed a lurid glow. Hurried +footsteps sounded in the ante-room; the door was thrown open. Edward +looked up, and saw D'Effernay staring at him, and round the room, in an +angry, restless manner. + +Edward could not but think there was something almost unearthly in those +dark looks and that towering form. + +"Where is my wife?" was D'Effernay's first question. + +"She is gone to fulfill some household duty," replied the other. + +"And leaves you here alone in this miserable darkness? Most +extraordinary!--indeed, most unaccountable!" and, as he spoke, he +approached the table and snuffed the candles, with a movement of +impatience. + +"She left me here with old friends," said Edward, with a forced smile. +"I have been reading." + +"What, in the dark?" inquired D'Effernay, with a look of distrust. "It +was so dark when I came in, that you could not possibly have +distinguished a letter." + +"I read for some time, and then I fell into a train of thought, which is +usually the result of reading Young's "Night Thoughts." + +"Young! I can not bear that author. He is so gloomy." + +"But you are fortunately so happy, that the lamentations of the lonely +mourner can find no echo in your breast." + +"You think so!" said D'Effernay, in a churlish tone, and he pressed his +lips together tightly, as Emily came into the room: he went to meet +her. + +"You have been a long time away," was his observation, as he looked into +her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. "I found +our guest alone." + +"M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me," she replied, "and then I +thought you would be back immediately." + +They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared to +be forgotten. + +The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw that +Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to pacify her +husband's ill humor. + +In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were +successful. D'Effernay became more cheerful; the conversation more +animated; and Edward found that his host could be a very agreeable +member of society when he pleased, combining a good deal of information +with great natural powers. The evening passed away more pleasantly than +it promised at one time; and after an excellent and well-served supper, +the young officer was shown into a comfortable room, fitted up with +every modern luxury; and weary in mind and body, he soon fell asleep. He +dreamed of all that had occupied his waking thoughts--of his friend, and +his friend's history. + +But in that species of confusion which often characterizes dreams, he +fancied that he was Ferdinand, or at least, his own individuality seemed +mixed up with that of Hallberg. He felt that he was ill. He lay in an +unknown room, and by his bedside stood a small table, covered with +glasses and phials, containing medicine, as is usual in a sick room. + +The door opened, and D'Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as if he +had just left his bed: and now in Edward's mind dreams and realities +were mingled together, and he thought that D'Effernay came, perhaps, to +speak with him on the occurrences of the preceding day. But no! he +approached the table on which the medicines stood, looked at the watch, +took up one of the phials and a cup, measured the draught, drop by drop, +then he turned and looked round him stealthily, and then he drew from +his breast a pale blue, coiling serpent, which he threw into the cup, +and held it to the patient's lips, who drank, and instantly felt, a +numbness creep over his frame which ended in death. Edward fancied that +he was dead; he saw the coffin brought, but the terror lest he should be +buried alive, made him start up with a sudden effort, and he opened his +eyes. + +The dream had passed away; he sat in his bed safe and well; but it was +long ere he could in any degree recover his composure, or get rid of the +impression which the frightful apparition had made on him. They brought +his breakfast, with a message from the master of the house to inquire +whether he would like to visit the park, farms, &c. He dressed quickly, +and descended to the court, where he found his host in a riding-dress, +by the side of two fine horses, already saddled. D'Effernay greeted the +young man courteously; but Edward felt an inward repugnance as he looked +on that gloomy though handsome countenance, now lighted up by the beams +of the morning sun, yet recalling vividly the dark visions of the night. +D'Effernay was full of attentions to his new friend. They started on +their ride, in spite of some threatening clouds, and began the +inspection of meadows, shrubberies, farms, &c., &c. After a couple of +hours, which were consumed in this manner, it began to rain a few drops, +and at last burst out into a heavy shower. It was soon impossible even +to ride through the woods for the torrents that were pouring down, and +so they returned to the castle. + +Edward retired to his room to change his dress, and to write some +letters, he said, but more particularly to avoid Emily, in order not to +excite her husband's jealousy. As the bell rang for dinner he saw her +again, and found to his surprise that the captain, whom he had first +seen in the coffee-room, and who had given him so much information, was +one of the party. He was much pleased, for they had taken a mutual fancy +to each other. The captain was not at quarters the day Edward had left +them, but as soon as he heard where his friend had gone, he put horses +to his carriage and followed him, for he said he also should like to see +these famous estates. D'Effernay seemed in high good humor to-day, Emily +far more silent than yesterday, and taking little part in the +conversation of the men, which turned on political economy. After coffee +she found an opportunity to give Edward (unobserved) a little packet. +The look with which she did so, told plainly what it contained, and the +young man hurried to his room as soon as he fancied he could do so +without remark or comment. The continued rain precluded all idea of +leaving the house any more that day. He unfolded the packet; there were +a couple of sheets, written closely in a woman's fair hand, and +something wrapped carefully in a paper, which he knew to be the ring. It +was the fellow to that which he had given the day before to Emily, only +Ferdinand's name was engraved inside instead of hers. Such were the +contents of the papers: + +"Secrecy would be misplaced with the friend of the dead. Therefore will +I speak to you of things which I have never uttered to a human being +until now. Jules D'Effernay is nearly related to me. We knew each other +in the Netherlands, where our estates joined. The boy loved me already +with a love that amounted to passion; this love was my father's greatest +joy, for there was an old and crying injustice which the ancestors of +D'Effernay had suffered from ours, that could alone, he thought, be made +up by the marriage of the only children of the two branches. So we were +destined for each other almost from our cradles; and I was content it +should be so, for Jules's handsome face and decided preference for me +were agreeable to me, although I felt no great affection for him. We +were separated: Jules traveled in France, England, and America, and made +money as a merchant, which profession he had taken up suddenly. My +father, who had a place under government, left his country in +consequence of political troubles, and came into this part of the world, +where some distant relations of my mother's lived. He liked the +neighborhood; he bought land; we lived very happily; I was quite +contented in Jules's absence; I had no yearning of the heart toward him, +yet I thought kindly of him, and troubled myself little about my future. +Then--then I learned to know your friend. Oh, then! I felt, when I +looked upon him, when I listened to him, when we conversed together, I +felt, I acknowledged, that there might be happiness on earth of which I +had hitherto never dreamed. Then I loved for the first time, ardently, +passionately, and was beloved in return. Acquainted with the family +engagements; he did not dare openly to proclaim his love, and I knew I +ought not to foster the feeling; but, alas! how seldom does passion +listen to the voice of reason and of duty. Your friend and I met in +secret; in secret we plighted our troth, and exchanged those rings, and +hoped and believed that by showing a bold front to our destiny we should +subdue it to our will. The commencement was sinful, it has met with a +dire retribution. Jules's letters announced his speedy return. He had +sold every thing in his own country, had given up all his mercantile +affairs, through which he had greatly increased an already considerable +fortune, and now he was about to join us, or rather me, without whom he +could not live. This appeared to me like the demand for payment of a +heavy debt. This debt I owed to Jules, who loved me with all his heart, +who was in possession of my father's promised word and mine also. Yet I +could not give up your friend. In a state of distraction I told him all; +we meditated flight. Yes, I was so far guilty, and I make the confession +in hopes that some portion of my errors may be expiated by repentance. +My father, who had long been in a declining state, suddenly grew worse, +and this delayed and hindered the fulfillment of our designs. Jules +arrived. During the five years he had been away he was much changed in +appearance, and that advantageously. I was struck when I first saw him, +but it was also easy to detect in those handsome features and manly +bearing, a spirit of restlessness and violence which had already shown +itself in him as a boy, and which passing years, with their bitter +experience and strong passions, had greatly developed. The hope that we +had cherished of D'Effernay's possible indifference to me, of the change +which time might have wrought in his attachment, now seemed idle and +absurd. His love was indeed impassioned. He embraced me in a manner that +made me shrink from him, and altogether his deportment toward me was a +strange contrast to the gentle, tender, refined affection of our dear +friend. I trembled whenever Jules entered the room, and all that I had +prepared to say to him, all the plans which I had revolved in my mind +respecting him, vanished in an instant before the power of his presence, +and the almost imperative manner in which he claimed my hand. My +father's illness increased; he was now in a very precarious state, +hopeless indeed. Jules rivaled me in filial attentions to him, that I +can never cease to thank him for; but this illness made my situation +more and more critical, and it accelerated the fulfillment of the +contract. I was to renew my promise to him by the death-bed of my +father. Alas, alas! I fell senseless to the ground when this +announcement was made to me. Jules began to suspect. Already my cold, +embarrassed manner toward him since his return had struck him as +strange. He began to suspect, I repeat, and the effect that this +suspicion had on him, it would be impossible to describe to you. Even +now, after so long a time, now that I am accustomed to his ways, and +more reconciled to my fate by the side of a noble, though somewhat +impetuous man, it makes me tremble to think of those paroxysms, which +the idea that I did not love him called forth. They were fearful; he +nearly sank under them. During two days his life was in danger. At last +the storm passed, my father died; Jules watched over me with the +tenderness of a brother, the solicitude of a parent; for that indeed I +shall ever be grateful. His suspicion once awakened, he gazed round with +penetrating looks to discover the cause of my altered feelings. But your +friend never came to our house; we met in an unfrequented spot, and my +father's illness had interrupted these interviews. Altogether I can not +tell if Jules discovered any thing. A fearful circumstance rendered all +our precautions useless, and cut the knot of our secret connection, to +loose which voluntarily I felt I had no power. A wedding-feast, at a +neighboring castle, assembled all the nobility and gentry, and officers +quartered near, together; my deep mourning was an excuse for my absence. +Jules, though he usually was happiest by my side, could not resist the +invitation, and your friend resolved to go, although he was unwell; he +feared to raise suspicion by remaining away, when I was left at home. +With great difficulty he contrived the first day to make one at a +splendid hunt, the second day he could not leave his bed. A physician, +who was in the house, pronounced his complaint to be violent fever, and +Jules, whose room joined that of the sick man, offered him every little +service and kindness which compassion and good feeling prompted; and I +can not but praise him all the more for it, as who can tell, perhaps, +his suspicion might have taken the right direction? On the morning of +the second day--but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the +memory of which can never pass from my mind--a fit of apoplexy most +unexpectedly, but gently, ended the noblest life, and separated us +forever! Now you know all. I inclose the ring. I can not write more. +Farewell!" + +The conclusion of the letter made a deep impression on Edward. His dream +rose up before his remembrance, the slight indisposition, the sudden +death, the fearful nurse-tender, all arranged themselves in order before +his mind, and an awful whole rose out of all these reflections, a +terrible suspicion which he tried to throw off. But he could not do so, +and when he met the captain and D'Effernay in the evening, and the +latter challenged his visitors to a game of billiards, Edward glanced +from time to time at his host in a scrutinizing manner, and could not +but feel that the restless discontent which was visible in his +countenance, and the unsteady glare of his eyes, which shunned the fixed +look of others, only fitted too well into the shape of the dark thoughts +which were crossing his own mind. Late in the evening, after supper, +they played whist in Emily's boudoir. On the morrow, if the weather +permitted, they were to conclude their inspection of the surrounding +property, and the next day they were to visit the iron foundries, which, +although distant from the castle several miles, formed a very important +item in the rent-roll of the estates. The company separated for the +night. Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same +circumstances, recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick +man was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror took +possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular Communication +with the beings of the invisible world. + +The weather favored D'Effernay's projects. The whole day was passed in +the open air. Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when they +played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual consent, +every word, every look that could awaken the slightest suspicion, or +jealous feeling in D'Effernay's mind. She thanked him in her heart for +this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another world; she took +little heed of what passed around her. Her husband was in an excelled +temper; he played the part of host to perfection and when the two +officers were established comfortably by the fire, in the captain's +room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his courteous +manners. + +"He appears to be a man of general information," remarked Edward. + +"He has traveled a great deal, and read a great deal, as I told you when +we first met; he is a remarkable man, but one of uncontrolled passions, +and desperately jealous." + +"Yet he appears very attentive to his wife." + +"Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy, +and himself too." + +"He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness." + +"He can never bear to remain in one place for any length of time +together. He is now going to sell the property he only bought last +year. There is an instability about him; every thing palls on him." + +"That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the +world." + +"Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me +that man must have a bad conscience." + +"What an idea!" rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the captain's +remark struck him forcibly. "He seems a man of honor." + +"Oh, one may be a man of honor, as it is called, and yet have something +quite bad enough to reproach yourself with. But I know nothing about it, +and would not breathe such a thing except to you. His wife, too, looks +so pale and so oppressed." + +"But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression." + +"Oh, no! no! the year before D'Effernay came from Paris, she was as +fresh as a rose. Many people declare that your poor friend loved her. +The affair was wrapped in mystery, and I never believed the report, for +Hallberg was a steady man, and the whole country knew that Emily had +been engaged a long time." + +"Hallberg never mentioned the name in his letters," answered Edward, +with less candor than usual. + +"I thought not. Besides D'Effernay was very much attached to him, and +mourned his death." + +"Indeed!" + +"I assure you the morning that Hallberg was found dead in his bed so +unexpectedly, D'Effernay was like one beside himself." + +"Very extraordinary. But as we are on the subject, tell me, I pray you, +all the circumstances of my poor Ferdinand's illness, and awfully sudden +death." + +"I can tell you all about it, as well as any one, for I was one of the +guests at that melancholy wedding. Your friend, and I, and many others +were invited. Hallberg had some idea of not going; he was unwell, with +violent headache and giddiness. But we persuaded him, and he consented +to go with us. The first day he felt tolerably well. We hunted in the +open field; we were all on horseback, the day hot. Hallberg felt worse. +The second day he had a great deal of fever; he could not stay up. The +physician (for fortunately there was one in the company) ordered rest, +cooling medicine, neither of which seemed to do him good. The rest of +the men dispersed, to amuse themselves in various ways. Only D'Effernay +remained at home; he was never very fond of large societies, and we +voted that he was discontented and out of humor because his betrothed +bride was not with him. His room was next to the sick man's, to whom he +gave all possible care and attention, for poor Hallberg, besides being +ill, was in despair at giving so much trouble in a strange house. +D'Effernay tried to calm him on this point; he nursed him, amused him +with conversation, mixed his medicines, and, in fact, showed more +kindness and tenderness, than any of us would have given him credit +for. Before I went to bed I visited Hallberg, and found him much better, +and more cheerful; the doctor had promised that he should leave his bed +next day. So I left him and retired with the rest of the world, rather +late, and very tired, to rest. The next morning I was awoke by the fatal +tidings. I did not wait to dress, I ran to his room, it was full of +people." + +"And how, how was the death first discovered?" inquired Edward, in +breathless eagerness. + +"The servant, who came in to attend on him, thought he was asleep, for +he lay in his usual position, his head upon his hand. He went away and +waited for some time; but hours passed, and he thought he ought to wake +his master to give him his medicine. Then the awful discovery was made. +He must have died peacefully, for his countenance was so calm, his limbs +undisturbed. A fit of apoplexy had terminated his life, but in the most +tranquil manner." + +"Incomprehensible," said Edward, with a deep sigh. "Did they take no +measures to restore animation?" + +"Certainly; all that could be done was done, bleeding, fomentation, +friction; the physician superintended, but there was no hope, it was all +too late. He must have been dead some hours, for he was already cold and +stiff. If there had been a spark of life in him he would have been +saved. It was all over; I had lost my good lieutenant, and the regiment +one of its finest officers." + +He was silent, and appeared lost in thought. Edward, for his part, felt +overwhelmed by terrible suspicions and sad memories. After a long pause +he recovered himself: "and where was D'Effernay?" he inquired. + +"D'Effernay," answered the captain, rather surprised at the question; +"oh! he was not in the castle when we made the dreadful discovery: he +had gone out for an early walk, and when he came back late, not before +noon, he learned the truth, and was like one out of his senses. It +seemed so awful to him, because he had been so much, the very day +before, with poor Hallberg." + +"Ay," answered Edward, whose suspicions were being more and more +confirmed every moment. "And did he see the corpse? did he go into the +chamber of death?" + +"No," replied the captain; "he assured us it was out of his power to do +so; he could not bear the sight; and I believe it. People with such +uncontrolled feelings as this D'Effernay, are incapable of performing +those duties which others think it necessary and incumbent on them to +fulfill." + +"And where was Hallberg buried?" + +"Not far from the Castle where the mournful event took place. To-morrow, +if we go to the iron foundry, we shall be near the spot." + +"I am glad of it," cried Edward, eagerly, while a host of projects rose +up in his mind. "But now, captain, I will not trespass any longer on +your kindness. It is late, and we must be up betimes to-morrow. How far +have we to go?" + +"Not less than four leagues, certainly. D'Effernay has arranged that we +shall drive there, and see it all at our leisure: then we shall return +in the evening. Good night, Wensleben." + +They separated: Edward hurried to his room; his heart overflowed. Sorrow +on the one hand, horror and even hatred on the other, agitated him by +turns. It was long before he could sleep. For the third time the vision +haunted him; but now it was clearer than before; now he saw plainly the +features of him who lay in bed, and of him who stood beside the +bed--they were those of Hallberg and of D'Effernay. + +This third apparition, the exact counterpart of the two former (only +more vivid), all that he had gathered from conversations on the subject, +and the contents of Emily's letter, left scarcely the shadow of a doubt +remaining as to how his friend had left the world. + +D'Effernay's jealous and passionate nature seemed to allow of the +possibility of such a crime, and it could scarcely be wondered at, if +Edward regarded him with a feeling akin to hatred. Indeed the desire of +visiting Hallberg's grave, in order to place the ring in the coffin, +could alone reconcile Wensleben to the idea of remaining any longer +beneath the roof of a man whom he now considered the murderer of his +friend. His mind was a prey to conflicting doubts: detestation for the +culprit, and grief for the victim, pointed out one line of conduct, +while the difficulty of proving D'Effernay's guilt, and still more, pity +and consideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter +rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the +retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award +him. He would seek his friend's grave, and then he would separate from +D'Effernay, and never see him more. In the midst of these reflections +the servant came to tell him, that the carriage was ready. A shudder +passed over his frame as D'Effernay greeted him; but he commanded +himself, and they started on their expedition. + +Edward spoke but little, and that only when it was necessary, and the +conversation was kept up by his two companions; he had made every +inquiry, before he set out, respecting the place of his friend's +interment, the exact situation of the tomb, the name of the village, and +its distance from the main road. On their way home, he requested that +D'Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile +or two, as far as the village of ----, with whose rector he was +particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on +D'Effernay's brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of +vexation at any delay or hinderance; and he was so anxious to propitiate +his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands, +that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed +to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was. The captain stood up +in the carriage and pointed out the village to him, at some distance +off; it lay in a deep ravine at the foot of the mountains. + +They arrived in the course of time, and inquired for the clergyman's +house, which, as well as the church, was situated on rising ground. The +three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the +bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the +rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two +others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but +to D'Effernay's restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared +interminable. + +He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, "M. de +Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have +been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his +appearance." + +"Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long." + +"What on earth can he have to do here?" + +"Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy--the enthusiasm of youth." + +"It has a name, I suppose?" + +"Certainly, but--" + +"Is it sufficiently important, think you, to make us run the risk of +being benighted on such roads as these?" + +"Why, it is quite early in the day." + +"But we have more than two leagues to go. Why will you not speak? there +can not be any great mystery." + +"Well, perhaps not a mystery exactly, but just one of those subjects on +which we are usually reserved with others." + +"So! so!" rejoined D'Effernay, with a little sneer. "Some love affair; +some girl or another who pursues him, that he wants to get rid of." + +"Nothing of the kind, I can assure you," replied the captain, drily. "It +could scarcely be more innocent. He wishes, in fact, to visit his +friend's grave." + +The listener's expression was one of scorn and anger. "It is worth the +trouble, certainly," he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh. "A charming +sentimental pilgrimage, truly; and pray who is this beloved friend, over +whose resting-place he must shed a tear, and plant a forget-me-not? He +told me he had never been in the neighborhood before." + +"No more he had; neither did he know where poor Hallberg was buried +until I told him." + +"Hallberg!" echoed the other in a tone that startled the captain, and +caused him to turn and look fixedly in the speaker's face. It was deadly +pale, and the captain observed the effort which D'Effernay made to +recover his composure. + +"Hallberg!" he repeated again, in a calmer tone, "and was Wensleben a +friend of his?" + +"His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the +academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend." + +"Indeed!" said D'Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up +into a passion. "And this lieutenant came here on this account, then, +and the purchase of the estates was a mere excuse?" + +"I beg your pardon," observed the captain, in a decided tone of voice; +"I have already told you that it was I who informed him of the place +where his friend lies buried." + +"That may be, but it was owing to his friendship, to the wish to learn +something further of his fate, that we are indebted for the visit of +this romantic knight-errant." + +"That does not appear likely," replied the captain, who thought it +better to avert, if possible, the rising storm of his companion's fury. +"Why should he seek for news of Hallberg here, when he comes from the +place where he was quartered for a long time, and where all his comrades +now are." + +"Well, I don't know," cried D'Effernay, whose passion increased every +moment. "Perhaps you have heard what was once gossiped about the +neighborhood, that Hallberg was an admirer of my wife before she +married." + +"Oh yes, I have heard that report, but never believed it. Hallberg was a +prudent, steady man, and every one knew that Mademoiselle Varnier's hand +had been promised for some time." + +"Yes! yes! but you do not know to what lengths passion and avarice may +lead: for Emily was rich. We must not forget that, when we discuss the +matter; an elopement with the rich heiress would have been a fine thing +for a poor, beggarly lieutenant." + +"Shame! shame! M. D'Effernay. How can you slander the character of that +upright young man? If Hallberg were so unhappy as to love Mademoiselle +Varnier--" + +"That he did! you may believe me so far. I had reason to know it, and I +did know it." + +"We had better change the conversation altogether, as it has taken so +unpleasant a turn. Hallberg is dead; his errors, be they what they may, +lie buried with him. His name stands high with all who knew him. Even +you, M. D'Effernay--you were his friend." + +"I his friend? I hated him; I loathed him!" D'Effernay could not +proceed; he foamed at the mouth with rage. + +"Compose yourself!" said the captain, rising as he spoke, "you look and +speak like a madman." + +"A madman! Who says I am mad? Now I see it all--- the connection of the +whole--the shameful conspiracy." + +"Your conduct is perfectly incomprehensible to me," answered the +captain, with perfect coolness. "Did you not attend Hallberg in his last +illness, and give him his medicines with your own hand?" + +"I!" stammered D'Effernay. "No! no! no!" he cried, while the captain's +growing suspicions increased every moment, on account of the +perturbation which his companion displayed. "I never gave his +medicines; whoever says that is a liar." + +"I say it!" exclaimed the officer, in a loud tone, for his patience was +exhausted. "I say it, because I know that it was so, and I will maintain +that fact against any one at any time. If you choose to contradict the +evidence of my senses, it is you who are a liar!" + +"Ha! you shall give me satisfaction for this insult. Depend upon it, I +am not one to be trifled with, as you shall find. You shall retract your +words." + +"Never! I am ready to defend every word I have uttered here on this +spot, at this moment, if you please. You have your pistols in the +carriage, you know." + +D'Effernay cast a look of hatred on the speaker, and then dashing down +the little hill, to the surprise of the servants, he dragged the pistols +from the sword-case, and was by the captain's side in a moment. But the +loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and +there he stood on D'Effernay's return; and by his side a venerable old +man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand. + +"In heaven's name, what has happened?" cried Wensleben. + +"What are you about to do?" interposed the rector, in a tone of +authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror. "Are you +going to commit murder on this sacred spot, close to the precincts of +the church?" + +"Murder! who speaks of murder?" cried D'Effernay. "Who can prove it?" +and as he spoke, the captain turned a fierce, penetrating look upon him, +beneath which he quailed. + +"But, I repeat the question," Edward began once more, "what does all +this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come +back and find you both armed--both violently agitated--and M. +D'Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by +'proving it?'--to what do you allude?" At this moment, before any answer +could be made, a man came out of the house with a pick-ax and shovel on +his shoulder, and advancing toward the rector, said respectfully, "I am +quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard." + +It was now the captain's turn to look anxious: "What are you going to +do, you surely don't intend--?" but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted +him. + +"This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies +buried." + +"But these preparations, what do they mean?" + +"I will tell you," said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the +deepest emotion, "I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin +to be opened." + +"How, what?" screamed D'Effernay, once again. "Never--I will never +permit such a thing." + +"But, sir," the old man spoke, in a tone of calm decision, contrasting +wonderfully with the violence of him whom he addressed, "you have no +possible right to interfere. If this gentleman wishes it, and I accede +to the proposition, no one can prevent us from doing as we would." + +"I tell you I will not suffer it," continued D'Effernay, with the same +frightful agitation. "Stir at your peril," he cried, turning sharply +round upon the grave-digger, and holding a pistol to his head; but the +captain pulled his arm away, to the relief of the frightened peasant. + +"M. D'Effernay," he said, "your conduct for the last half-hour has been +most unaccountable--most unreasonable." + +"Come, come," interposed Edward, "let us say no more on the subject; but +let us be going," he addressed the rector; "we will not detain these +gentlemen much longer." + +He made a step toward the church-yard, but D'Effernay clutched his arm, +and, with an impious oath, "you shall not stir," he said; "that grave +shall not be opened." + +Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all +his doubts were confirmed. + +D'Effernay saw that Wensleben was resolved, and a deadly pallor spread +itself over his features, and a shudder passed visibly over his frame. + +"You are going!" he cried, with every gesture and appearance of +insanity. "Go, then;" ... and he pointed the muzzle of the pistol to his +mouth, and before any one could prevent him, he drew the trigger, and +fell back a corpse. The spectators were motionless with surprise and +horror; the captain was the first to recover himself in some degree. He +bent over the body with the faint hope of detecting some sign of life. +The old man turned pale and dizzy with a sense of terror, and he looked +as if he would have swooned, had not Edward led him gently into his +house, while the two others busied themselves with vain attempts to +restore life. The spirit of D'Effernay had gone to its last account! + +It was, indeed, an awful moment. Death in its worst shape was before +them, and a terrible duty still remained to be performed. + +Edward's cheek was blanched; his eye had a fixed look, yet he moved and +spoke with a species of mechanical action, which had something almost +ghastly in it. Causing the body to be removed into the house, he bade +the captain summon the servants of the deceased and then motioning with +his hand to the awe-struck sexton, he proceeded with him to the +church-yard. A few clods of earth alone were removed ere the captain +stood by his friend's side. + + * * * * * + +Here we must pause. Perhaps it were better altogether to emulate the +silence that was maintained then and afterward by the two comrades. But +the sexton could not be bribed to entire secrecy, and it was a story he +loved to tell, with details we gladly omit, of how Wensleben solemnly +performed his task--of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the +cause of Hallberg's death. Those who love the horrible must draw on +their own imaginations to supply what we resolutely withhold. + +Edward, we believe, never alluded to D'Effernay's death, and all the +awful circumstances attending it, but twice--once, when, with every +necessary detail, he and the captain gave their evidence to the legal +authorities; and once, with as few details as possible, when he had an +interview with the widow of the murderer, the beloved of the victim. The +particulars of this interview he never divulged, for he considered +Emily's grief too sacred to be exposed to the prying eyes of the curious +and the unfeeling. She left the neighborhood immediately, leaving her +worldly affairs in Wensleben's hands, who soon disposed of the property +for her. She returned to her native country, with the resolution of +spending the greater part of her wealth in relieving the distresses of +others, wisely seeking, in the exercise of piety and benevolence, the +only possible alleviation of her own deep and many-sided griefs. For +Edward, he was soon pronounced to have recovered entirely, from the +shock of these terrible events. Of a courageous and energetic +disposition, he pursued the duties of his profession with a firm step, +and hid his mighty sorrow deep in the recesses of his heart. To the +superficial observer, tears, groans, and lamentations are the only +proofs of sorrow; and when they subside, the sorrow is said to have +passed away also. Thus the captive, immured within the walls of his +prison-house, is as one dead to the outward world, though the jailer be +a daily witness to the vitality of affliction. + + + + +WORDSWORTH'S POSTHUMOUS POEM.[J] + + +This is a voice that speaks to us across a gulf of nearly fifty years. A +few months ago Wordsworth was taken from us at the ripe age of +fourscore, yet here we have him addressing the public, as for the first +time, with all the fervor, the unworn freshness, the hopeful confidence +of thirty. We are carried back to the period when Coleridge, Byron, +Scott, Rogers, and Moore were in their youthful prime. We live again in +the stirring days when the poets who divided public attention and +interest with the Fabian struggle in Portugal and Spain, with the wild +and terrible events of the Russian campaign, with the uprising of the +Teutonic nations, and the overthrow of Napoleon, were in a manner but +commencing their cycle of songs. This is to renew, to antedate, the +youth of a majority of the living generation. But only those whose +memory still carries them so far back, can feel within them any reflex +of that eager excitement, with which the news of battles fought and won, +or mail-coach copies of some new work of Scott, or Byron, or the +_Edinburgh Review_, were looked for and received in those already old +days. [J] We need not remind the readers of the _Excursion_, that when +Wordsworth was enabled, by the generous enthusiasm of Raisley Calvert, +to retire with a slender independence to his native mountains, there to +devote himself exclusively to his art, his first step was to review and +record in verse, the origin and progress of his own powers, as far as he +was acquainted with them. This was at once an exercise in versification, +and a test of the kind of poetry for which he was by temperament fitted. +The result was a determination to compose a philosophical poem, +containing views of man, of nature, and of society. This ambitious +conception has been doomed to share the fate of so many other colossal +undertakings. Of the three parts of his _Recluse_, thus planned, only +the second (the _Excursion_, published in 1814) has been completed. Of +the other two there exists only the first book of the first, and the +plan of the third. The _Recluse_ will remain in fragmentary greatness, a +poetical Cathedral of Cologne. + +Matters standing thus, it has not been without a melancholy sense of the +uncertainty of human projects, and of the contrast between the sanguine +enterprise and its silent evaporation (so often the "history of an +individual mind"), that we have perused this _Prelude_ which no +completed strain was destined to follow. Yet in the poem itself there is +nothing to inspire depression. It is animated throughout with the +hopeful confidence in the poet's own powers, so natural to the time of +life at which it was composed; it evinces a power and soar of +imagination unsurpassed in any of his writings; and its images and +incidents have a freshness and distinctness which they not seldom lost, +when they came to be elaborated, as many of them were, in his minor +poems of a later date. + +The _Prelude_, as the title page indicates, is a poetical autobiography, +commencing with the earliest reminiscences of the author, and continued +to the time at which it was composed. We are told that it was begun in +1799 and completed in 1805. It consists of fourteen books. Two are +devoted to the infancy and schooltime of the poet; four to the period of +his University life; two to a brief residence in London, immediately +subsequent to his leaving Cambridge, and a retrospect of the progress +his mind had then made; and three to a residence in France, chiefly in +the Loire, but partly in Paris, during the stormy period of Louis the +Sixteenth's flight and capture, and the fierce contest between the +Girondins and Robespierre. Five books are then occupied with an analysis +of the internal struggle occasioned by the contradictory influences of +rural and secluded nature in boyhood, and of society when the young man +first mingles with the world. The surcease of the strife is recorded in +the fourteenth book, entitled "Conclusion." + +The poem is addressed to Coleridge; and, apart from its poetical merits, +is interesting as at once a counterpart and supplement to that author's +philosophical and beautiful criticism of the _Lyrical Ballads_ in his +_Biographia Literaria_. It completes the explanation, there given, of +the peculiar constitution of Wordsworth's mind, and of his poetical +theory. It confirms and justifies our opinion that that theory was +essentially partial and erroneous; but at the same time, it establishes +the fact that Wordsworth was a true and a great poet in despite of his +theory. + +The great defect of Wordsworth, in our judgment, was want of sympathy +with, and knowledge of men. From his birth till his entry at college, he +lived in a region where he met with none whose minds might awaken his +sympathies, and where life was altogether uneventful. On the other hand, +that region abounded with the inert, striking, and most impressive +objects of natural scenery. The elementary grandeur and beauty of +external nature came thus to fill up his mind to the exclusion of human +interests. To such a result his individual constitution powerfully +contributed. The sensuous element was singularly deficient in his +nature. He never seems to have passed through that erotic period out of +which some poets have never emerged. A soaring, speculative imagination, +and an impetuous, resistless self-will, were his distinguishing +characteristics. From first to last he concentrated himself within +himself; brooding over his own fancies and imaginations to the +comparative disregard of the incidents and impressions which suggested +them; and was little susceptible of ideas originating in other minds. We +behold the result. He lives alone in a world of mountains, streams, and +atmospheric phenomena, dealing with moral abstractions, and rarely +encountered by even shadowy spectres of beings outwardly resembling +himself. There is measureless grandeur and power in his moral +speculations. There is intense reality in his pictures of external +nature. But though his human characters are presented with great skill +of metaphysical analysis, they have rarely life or animation. He is +always the prominent, often the exclusive, object of his own song. + +Upon a mind so constituted, with its psychological peculiarities so +cherished and confirmed, the fortunes and fates of others, and the +stirring events of his time, made vivid but very transient impressions. +The conversation and writings of contemporaries trained among books, and +with the faculty of speech more fully developed than that of thought, +seemed colorless and empty to one with whom natural objects and +grandeurs were always present in such overpowering force. Excluded by +his social position from taking an active part in the public events of +the day, and repelled by the emptiness of the then fashionable +literature, he turned to private and humble life as possessing at least +a reality. But he thus withheld himself from the contemplation of those +great mental excitements which only great public struggles can awaken. +He contracted a habit of exaggerating the importance of every-day +incidents and emotions. He accustomed himself to see in men and in +social relations only what he was predetermined to see there, and to +impute to them a value and importance derived mainly from his own +self-will. Even his natural good taste contributed to confirm him in his +error. The two prevailing schools of literature in England, at that +time, were the trashy and mouthing writers who adopted the sounding +language of Johnson and Darwin, unenlivened by the vigorous thought of +either; and the "dead-sea apes" of that inflated, sentimental, +revolutionary style which Diderot had unconsciously originated, and +Kotzebue carried beyond the verge of caricature. The right feeling and +manly thought of Wordsworth were disgusted by these shallow +word-mongers, and he flew to the other extreme. Under the +influences--repulsive and attractive--we have thus attempted to +indicate, he adopted the theory that as much of grandeur and profound +emotion was to be found in mere domestic incidents and feelings, as on +the more conspicuous stage of public life; and that a bald and naked +simplicity of language was the perfection of style. Singularly enough, +he was confirmed in these notions by the very writer of the day whose +own natural genius, more than any of his contemporaries, impelled, him +to riot in great, wild, supernatural conceptions; and to give utterance +to them in gorgeous language. Coleridge was perhaps the only +contemporary from whom Wordsworth ever took an opinion; and that he did +so from him, is mainly attributable to the fact that Coleridge did +little more than reproduce to him his own notions, sometimes rectified +by a subtler logic, but always rendered more attractive by new and +dazzling illustrations. + +Fortunately it is out of the power of the most perverse theory to spoil +the true poet. The poems of Wordsworth must continue to charm and +elevate mankind, in defiance of his crotchets, just as Luther, Henri +Quatre, and other living impersonations of poetry do, despite all quaint +peculiarities of the attire, the customs, or the opinions of their +respective ages, with which they were embued. The spirit of truth and +poetry redeems, ennobles, hallows, every external form in which it may +be lodged. We may "pshaw" and "pooh" at _Harry Gill_ and the _Idiot +Boy_; but the deep and tremulous tenderness of sentiment, the +strong-winged flight of fancy, the excelling and unvarying purity, which +pervade all the writings of Wordsworth, and the exquisite melody of his +lyrical poems, must ever continue to attract and purify the mind. The +very excesses into which his one-sided theory betrayed him, acted as a +useful counter-agent to the prevailing bad taste of his time. + +The _Prelude_ may take a permanent place as one of the most perfect of +Wordsworth's compositions. It has much of the fearless felicity of +youth; and its imagery has the sharp and vivid outline of ideas fresh +from the brain. The subject--the development of his own great +powers--raises him above that willful dallying with trivialities which +repels us in some of his other works. And there is real vitality in the +theme, both from our anxiety to know the course of such a mind, and from +the effect of an absorbing interest in himself excluding that languor +which sometimes seized him in his efforts to impart or attribute +interest to themes possessing little or none in themselves. Its mere +narrative, though often very homely, and dealing in too many words, is +often characterized also by elevated imagination, and always by +eloquence. The bustle of London life, the prosaic uncouthness of its +exterior, the earnest heart that beats beneath it, the details even of +its commonest amusements, from Bartholomew Fair to Sadler's Wells, are +portrayed with simple force and delicate discrimination; and for the +most part skillfully contrasted with the rural life of the poet's native +home. There are some truthful and powerful sketches of French character +and life, in the early revolutionary era. But above all, as might have +been anticipated, Wordsworth's heart revels in the elementary beauty and +grandeur of his mountain theme; while his own simple history is traced +with minute fidelity and is full of unflagging interest.--_London +Examiner._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[J] _The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind; an Autobiographical Poem_. +By William Wordsworth. London. Moxon. New York, Appleton & Co. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +THE LITERARY PROFESSION--AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS. + + +It is a common complaint that the publishers make large fortunes and +leave the authors to starve--that they are, in fact, a kind of moral +vampire, sucking the best blood of genius, and destroying others to +support themselves. A great deal of very unhealthy, one-sided cant has +been written upon this subject. Doubtless, there is much to be said on +both sides. That publishers look at a manuscript very much as a +corn-dealer looks at sample of wheat, with an eye to its selling +qualities, is not to be denied. If books are not written only to be +sold, they are printed only to be sold. Publishers must pay their +printers and their paper-merchants; and they can not compel the public +to purchase their printed paper. When benevolent printers shall be found +eager to print gratuitously works of unsalable genius, and benevolent +paper-merchants to supply paper for the same, publishers may afford to +think less of a manuscript as an article of sale--may reject with less +freedom unlikely manuscripts, and haggle less savagely about the price +of likely ones. An obvious common-place this, and said a thousand times +before, but not yet recognized by the world of writers at large. +Publishing is a trade, and, like all other trades, undertaken with the +one object of making money by it. The profits are not ordinarily large; +they are, indeed, very uncertain--so uncertain that a large proportion +of those who embark in the publishing business some time or other find +their way into the Gazette. When a publishing firm is ruined by printing +unsalable books, authors seldom or never have any sympathy with a +member of it. They have, on the other hand, an idea that he is justly +punished for his offenses; and so perhaps he is, but not in the sense +understood by the majority of those who contemplate his downfall as a +retributive dispensation. The fact is, that reckless publishing is more +injurious to the literary profession than any thing in the world beside. +The cautious publisher is the author's best friend. If a house publish +at their own risk a number of works which they can not sell, they must +either go into the Gazette at last, or make large sums of money by works +which they _can_ sell. When a publisher loses money by a work, an injury +is inflicted upon the literary profession. The more money he can make by +publishing, the more he can afford to pay for authorship. It is often +said that the authors of successful works are inadequately rewarded in +proportion to their success; that publishers make their thousands, while +authors only make their hundreds. But it is forgotten that the profits +of the one successful work are often only a set-off to the losses +incurred by the publication of half a dozen unsuccessful ones. If a +publisher purchase a manuscript for 500, and the work prove to be a +"palpable hit" worth 5000, it may seem hard that the publisher does not +share his gains more equitably with the author. With regard to this it +is to be said, in the first place, that he very frequently _does_. There +is hardly a publisher in London, however "grasping" he may be, who has +not, time after time, paid to authors sums of money not "in the bond." +But if the fact were not as we have stated it, we can hardly admit that +publishers are under any kind of obligation to exceed the strict terms +of their contracts. If a publisher gives 500 for a copyright, +expecting to sweep the same amount into his own coffers, but instead of +making that sum, loses it by the speculation, he does not ask the author +to refund--nor does the author offer to do it. The money is in all +probability spent long before the result of the venture is ascertained; +and the author would be greatly surprised and greatly indignant, if it +were hinted to him, even in the most delicate way, that the publisher +having lost money by his book, would be obliged to him if he would make +good a portion of the deficit by sending a check upon his bankers. + +We repeat, then, that a publisher who loses money by one man's books, +must make it by another's, or go into the Gazette. There are publishers +who trade entirely upon this principle, which, indeed, is a kind of +literary gambling. They publish a dozen works, we will suppose, of which +six produce an absolute loss; four just cover-their expenses; and the +other two realize a profit. The publisher, especially if he be his own +printer, may find this answer in the end; it may at least just keep him +out of the Bankruptcy Court, and supply his family with bread. But the +system can not be a really advantageous one either to publishers or +authors. To the latter, indeed, it is destruction. No inconsiderable +portion of the books published every year entail a heavy loss on author +or publisher, or on both--and the amount of this loss may be set down, +in most instances, as so much taken from the gross profits of the +literary profession. If Mr. Bungay lose a hundred pounds by the poems of +the Hon. Percy Popjoy, he has a hundred pounds less to give to Mr. +Arthur Pendennis for his novel. Instead of protesting against the +over-caution of publishers, literary men, if they really knew their own +interests, would protest against their want of caution. Authors have a +direct interest in the prosperity of publishers. The misfortune of +authorship is not that publishers make so much money, but that they make +so little. If Paternoster Row were wealthier than it is, there would be +better cheer in Grub-street. + +It is very true that publishers, like other men, make mistakes; and that +sometimes a really good and salable work is rejected. Many instances of +this might readily be adduced--instances of works, whose value has been +subsequently proved by extensive popularity, having been rejected by one +or more experienced member of the publishing craft. But their judgment +is on the whole remarkably correct. They determine with surprising +accuracy the market value of the greater number of works that are +offered to them. It is not supposed that in the majority of cases, the +publisher himself decides the question upon the strength of his own +judgment. He has his minister, or ministers of state, to decide these +knotty questions for him. A great deal has been written at different +times, about the baneful influence of this middleman, or "reader"--but +we can see no more justice in the complaint than if it were raised +against the system which places a middleman or minister between the +sovereign and his people. To complain of the incapacity of the publisher +himself, and to object to his obtaining the critical services of a more +competent party, were clearly an inconsistency and an injustice. If the +publisher himself be not capable of deciding upon the literary merits or +salable properties of the works laid before him, the best thing that he +can do is to secure the assistance of some one who _is_. Hence the +office of the "reader." It is well known that in some large publishing +houses there is a resident "reader" attached to the establishment; +others are believed to lay the manuscripts offered to them for +publication before some critic of established reputation out-of-doors; +while more than one eminent publisher might be named who has trusted +solely to his own judgment, and rarely found that judgment at fault. In +either of these cases there is no reason to assume the incompetency of +the judge. Besides, as we have said, the question to be solved by the +publisher or reader, is not a purely literary question. It is mainly +indeed a commercial question; and the merits of the work are often +freely acknowledged while the venture is politely declined. + +Much more might be said of the relations between publishers and authors, +but we are compelled to economize our space. The truth, indeed, as +regards the latter, is simply this: It is not so much that authors do +not know how to make money, as that they do not know how to spend it. +The same income that enables a clergyman, a lawyer, a medical +practitioner, a government functionary, or any other member of the +middle classes earning his livelihood by professional labor, to support +himself and his family in comfort and respectability, will seldom keep a +literary man out of debt and difficulty--seldom provide him with a +comfortable well-ordered home, creditable to himself and his profession. +It is ten to one that he lives untidily; that every thing about him is +in confusion, that the amenities of domestic life are absent from his +establishment; that he is altogether in a state of elaborate and costly +disorder, such as we are bound to say is the characteristic of no other +kind of professional life. He seldom has a settled home--a fixed +position. He appears to be constantly on the move. He seldom lives, for +any length of time, in the same place; and is rarely at home when you +call upon him. It would be instructive to obtain a return of the number +of professional writers who retain pews in church, and are to be found +there with their families on Sundays. There is something altogether +fitful, irregular, spasmodic in their way of life. And so it is with +their expenditure. They do not live like other men, and they do not +spend like other men. At one time, you would think, from their lavish +style of living, that they were worth three thousand a year; and at +another, from the privations that they undergo, and the difficulty they +find in meeting small claims upon them, that they were not worth fifty. +There is generally, indeed, large expenditure abroad, and painful +stinting at home. The "res angusta _domi_" is almost always there; but +away from his home, your literary man is often a prince and a +millionaire. Or, if he be a man of domestic habits, if he spends little +on tavern suppers, little on wine, little on cab hire, the probability +is, that he is still impulsive and improvident, still little capable of +self-denial; that he will buy a costly picture when his house-rent is +unpaid; that he will give his wife a guitar when she wants a gown; and +buy his children a rocking-horse when they are without stockings. His +house and family are altogether in an inelegant state of elegant +disorder; and with really a comfortable income, if properly managed, he +is eternally in debt. + +Now all this may appear very strange, but it is not wholly +unaccountable. In the _first_ place, it may be assumed, as we have +already hinted, that no small proportion of those who adopt literature +as a profession have enlisted in the army of authors because they have +lacked the necessary amount of patience and perseverance--the systematic +orderly habits--the industry and the self-denial by which alone it is +possible to attain success in other paths of professional life. With +talent enough to succeed in any, they have not had sufficient method to +succeed in any. They have been trained perhaps for the bar, but wanted +assiduity to master the dry details of the law, and patience to sustain +them throughout a long round of briefless circuits. They have devoted +themselves to the study of physic, and recoiled from or broken down +under examination; or wanted the hopeful sanguine temperament which +enables a man to content himself with small beginnings, and to make his +way by a gradually widening circle to a large round of remunerative +practice. They have been intended for the Church, and drawn back in +dismay at the thought of its restraints and responsibilities; or have +entered the army, and have forsaken with impatience and disgust the slow +road to superior command. + +In any case, it may be assumed that the original profession has been +deserted for that of authorship, mainly because the aspirant has been +wanting in those orderly methodical habits, and that patience and +submissiveness of temperament which secure success in those departments +of professional labor which are only to be overcome by progressive +degrees. In a word, it may be often said of the man of letters, that he +is not wanting in order because he is an author, but he is an author +because he is wanting in order. He is capable of occasional paroxysms of +industry; his spasms of energy are often great and triumphant. Where +results are to be obtained _per saltum_ he is equal to any thing and is +not easily to be frightened back. He has courage enough to carry a +fortress by assault, but he has not system enough to make his way by +regular approaches. He is weary of the work before he has traced out the +first parallel. In this very history of the rise of professional +authorship, we may often see the causes of its fall. The calamities of +authors are often assignable to the very circumstances that made them +authors. Wherefore is it that in many cases authors are disorderly and +improvident? simply because it is their nature to be so--because in any +other path of life they would be equally disorderly and improvident. The +want of system is not to be attributed to their profession. The evil +which we deplore arises in the first instance only from an inability to +master an inherent defect. + +But it must be admitted that there are many predisposing circumstances +in the environments of literary life--that many of the causes which +aggravate, if they do not originate the malady, are incidental to the +profession itself. The absolute requirements of literary labor not +unfrequently compel an irregular distribution of time and with it +irregular social and moral habits. It would be cruel to impute that as a +fault to the literary laborer which is in reality his misfortune. We who +lay our work once every quarter before the public, and they who once a +year, or less frequently, present themselves with their comely octavo +volumes of fiction or biography--history or science--to the reading +world, may dine at home every day with their children, ring the bell at +ten o'clock for family prayers, rise early and retire early every day, +and with but few deviations throughout the year, regularly toil through, +with more or less of the afflatus upon them, their apportioned hours of +literary labor; but a large proportion of the literary practitioners of +the age are connected, in some capacity or other, with the newspaper +press; they are the slaves of time, not its masters; and must bend +themselves to circumstances, however repugnant to the will. Late hours +are unfortunately a condition of press life. The sub-editors, the +summary writers, the reporters; the musical and theatrical critics, and +many of the leading-article writers are compelled to keep late hours. +Their work is not done till past--in many cases till _long_ +past--midnight; and it can not be done at home. It is a very unhappy +condition of literary life that it so often compels night-work. +Night-work of this kind seems to demand a resource to stimulants; and +the exigencies of time and place compel a man to betake himself to the +most convenient tavern. Much that we read in the morning papers, +wondering at the rapidity with which important intelligence or +interesting criticism is laid before us, is written, after midnight, at +some contiguous tavern, or in the close atmosphere of a reporter's room, +which compels a subsequent resort to some house of nocturnal +entertainment. If, weary with work and rejoicing in the thought of its +accomplishment, the literary laborer, in the society perhaps of two or +three of his brethren, betakes himself to a convenient supper house, and +there spends on a single meal, what would keep himself and his family in +comfort throughout the next day, perhaps it is hardly just to judge him +too severely; at all events, it is right that we should regard the +suffering, and weigh the temptation. What to us, in many cases, "seems +vice may be but woe." It is hard to keep to this night-work and to live +an orderly life. If a man from choice, not from necessity, turns night +into day, and day into night (we have known literary men who have +willfully done so), we have very little pity for him. The shattered +nerves--the disorderly home--the neglected business--the accounts unkept +and the bills unpaid, which are the necessary results of nights of +excitement and days of languor, are then to be regarded as the +consequences not of the misfortunes, but the faults of the sufferer. It +is a wretched way of life any how. + +Literary men are sad spendthrifts, not only of their money, but of +themselves. At an age when other men are in the possession of vigorous +faculties of mind and strength of body, they are often used-up, +enfeebled, and only capable of effort under the influence of strong +stimulants. If a man has the distribution of his own time--if his +literary avocations are of that nature that they can be followed at +home--if they demand only continuous effort, there is no reason why the +waste of vital energy should be greater in his case than in that of the +follower of any other learned profession. A man soon discovers to what +extent he can safely and profitably tax his powers. To do well in the +world he must economize himself no less than his money. Rest is often a +good investment. A writer at one time is competent to do twice as much +and twice as well as at another; and if his leisure be well employed, +the few hours of labor will be more productive than the many, at the +time; and the faculty of labor will remain with him twice as long. Rest +and recreation, fresh air and bodily exercise, are essential to an +author, and he will do well never to neglect them. But there are +professional writers who can not regulate their hours of labor, and +whose condition of life it is to toil at irregular times and in an +irregular manner. It is difficult, we know, for them to abstain from +using themselves up prematurely. Repeated paroxysms of fever wear down +the strongest frames; and many a literary man is compelled to live a +life of fever, between excitement and exhaustion of the mind. We would +counsel all public writers to think well of the best means of +economizing themselves--the best means of spending their time off duty. +Rest and recreation, properly applied, will do much to counteract the +destroying influences of spasmodic labor at unseasonable hours, and to +ward off premature decay. But if they apply excitement of one kind to +repair the ravages of excitement of another kind, they must be content +to live a life of nervous irritability, and to grow old before their +time. + + + + +THE BROTHERS CHEERYBLE. + + +William and Charles Grant were the sons of a farmer in Inverness-shire, +whom a sudden flood stript of every thing, even to the very soil which +he tilled. The farmer and his son William made their way southward, +until they arrived in the neighborhood of Bury, in Lancashire, and there +found employment in a print work, in which William served his +apprenticeship. It is said that, when they reached the spot near which +they ultimately settled, and arrived at the crown of the hill near +Walmesley, they were in doubt as to what course was best next to be +pursued. The surrounding country lay disclosed before them, the river +Irwell making its circuitous way through the valley. What was to be done +to induce their decision as to the route they were to take to their +future home? A stick was put up, and where it fell, in that direction +would they betake themselves. And thus their decision was made, and they +betook themselves toward the village of Ramsbotham, not far distant. In +this place, these men pitched their tent, and in the course of many long +years of industry, enterprise, and benevolence, they accumulated nearly +a million sterling of money; earning, meanwhile, the good-will of +thousands, the gratitude of many, and the respect of all who knew them. +They afterward erected, on the top of the hill overlooking Walmesley, a +lofty tower, in commemoration of the fortunate choice they had made, and +not improbably as a kind of public thank-offering for the signal +prosperity they had reaped. Cotton mills, and print works, were built by +them of great extent, employing an immense number of hands; and they +erected churches, founded schools, and gave a new life to the district. +Their well-directed diligence made the valley teem with industry, +activity, health, joy, and opulence; they never forgot the class from +which they themselves had sprung, that of working-men, whose hands had +mainly contributed to their aggrandizement, and, therefore, they spared +no expense in the moral, intellectual, and physical interests of their +work-people. + +A brief anecdote or two will serve to show what manner of men these +Grants were, and that Dickens, in his Brothers Cheeryble, has been +guilty of no exaggeration. Many years ago, a warehouseman published an +exceedingly scurrilous pamphlet against the firm of Grant Brothers, +holding up the elder partner to ridicule as "Billy Button." William was +informed by some "kind friend," of the existence and nature of the +pamphlet, and his observation was, that the man would live to repent of +its publication. "Oh!" said the libeler, when informed of this remark, +"he thinks that some time or other I shall be in his debt, but I will +take good care of that." It happens, however, that the man in business +does not always know who shall be his creditor. It turned out that the +libeler shortly became bankrupt, and the brothers held an acceptance of +his, which had been indorsed by the drawer who had also become bankrupt. +The wantonly libeled men had now an opportunity of revenging themselves +upon the libeler, for he could not obtain his certificate without their +signature, and without that he could not again commence business. But it +seemed to the bankrupt to be a hopeless case to expect that, they would +give their signature--they whom he had so wantonly held up to public +ridicule. The claims of a wife and children, however, at last forced him +to make the application. He presented himself at the counting-house +door, and found that "Billy Button" was in. He entered, and William +Grant, who was alone, rather sternly bid him, "shut the door, sir!" The +libeler trembled before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his +certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. "You +wrote a pamphlet against us once," exclaimed Mr. Grant. The supplicant +expected to see his parchment thrown into the fire; instead of which, +Mr. Grant took a pen, and writing something on the document, handed it +back to the supplicant, who expected to find "rogue, +scoundrel, libeler," instead of which, there was written only the +signature of the firm, completing the bankrupt's certificate. "We make +it a rule," said Mr. Grant, "never to refuse signing the certificate of +an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing +else." The tears started into the poor man's eyes. "Ah!" continued Mr. +Grant, "my saying was true, I said you would live to repent writing +that pamphlet, I did not mean it as a threat, I only meant that some day +you would know us better, and repent that you had tried to injure us; I +see you repent it now." "I do, I do," said the grateful man, "I do, +indeed, bitterly repent it." "Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us +now. How do you get on? What are you going to do?" The poor man stated +that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was +obtained. "But how are you off in the mean time?" and the answer was +that, having given up every farthing to his creditors, he had been +compelled to stint his family of even the common necessaries of life, +that he might be enabled to pay the cost of his certificate. "My dear +fellow, this will never do, your wife and family must not suffer; be +kind enough to take this ten-pound note to your wife from me--there, +there, my dear fellow--nay, don't cry--it will all be well with you yet; +keep up your spirits, set to work like a man, and you will raise your +head among us yet." The overpowered man endeavored in vain to express +his thanks--the swelling in his throat forbade words; he put his hand to +his face, and went out of the door crying like a child. + +In company with a gentleman who had written and lectured much on the +advantages of early religious, moral, and intellectual training, Mr +Grant asked--"Well, how do you go on in establishing schools for +infants?" The reply was, "Very encouragingly indeed; wherever I have +gone, I have succeeded either in inducing good people to establish them, +or in procuring better support to those that are already established. +But I must give over my labors, for, what with printing bills, +coach-fare, and other expenses, every lecture I deliver in any +neighboring town, costs me a sovereign, and I can not afford to ride my +hobby such a rate." He said, "You must not give over your labors; God +has blessed them with success; He has blessed you with talents, and me +with wealth, if you give your time, I ought to give my money. You must +oblige me by taking this twenty-pound note, and spending it in promoting +the education of the poor." The twenty-pound note was taken, and so +spent; and probably a thousand children are now enjoying the benefit of +the impulse that was thus given to a mode of instruction as delightful +as it was useful. + +Mr. Grant was waited on by two gentlemen, who were raising a +subscription for the widow of a respectable, man, who, some years before +his death, had been unfortunate in business. "We lost 200 by him," said +Mr. Grant; "and how do you expect I should subscribe, for his widow?" +"Because," answered one of them, "what you have lost by the husband does +not alter the widow's claim on your benevolence." "Neither it shall," +said he, "here are five pounds, and if you can not make up the sum you +want for her, come to me, and I'll give you more." + +Many other anecdotes, equally characteristic of the kind nature of +William Grant, could be added. For fifteen years did he and his brother +Charles ride into Manchester on market days, seated side-by-side, +looking of all things like a pair of brothers, happy in themselves, and +in each other. William died a few years ago, and was followed to the +grave by many blessings. The firm still survives, and supports its +former character. Long may the merchant princes of England continue to +furnish such beautiful specimens of humanity as the now famous Brothers +Cheeryble!--_Chambers' Edinburgh Journal_. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +WRITING FOR PERIODICALS. + + +Lord Lyndhurst once said, at a public dinner, with reference to the +numberless marvels of the press, that it might seem a very easy thing to +write a leading article, but that he would recommend any one with strong +convictions on that point, only to _try_. We confidently appeal to the +experience of all the conductors of the leading journals of Great +Britain, from the quarterly reviews to the daily journals, convinced +that they will all tell the same unvarying tale of the utter +incompetency of thousands of very clever people to write articles, +review books, &c. They will all have the same experiences to relate of +the marvelous failures of men of genius and learning--the crude cumbrous +state in which they have sent their so-called articles for +publication--the labor it has taken to mould their fine thoughts and +valuable erudition into comely shape--the utter impossibility of doing +it at all. As Mr. Carlyle has written of the needle-women of England, it +is the saddest thing of all, that there should be sempstresses few or +none, but "botchers" in such abundance, capable only of "a distracted +puckering and botching--not sewing--only a fallacious hope of it--a fond +imagination of the mind;" so of literary labor is it the saddest thing +of all, that there should be so many botchers in the world, and so few +skilled article-writers--so little article-writing, and so much +"distracted puckering and botching." There may be nothing in this +article-writing, when once we know how to do it, as there is nothing in +balancing a ladder on one's chin, or jumping through a hoop, or +swallowing a sword. All we say is, if people think it easy, let them +try, and abide by the result. The amateur articles of very clever people +are generally what an amateur effort at coat-making would be. It may +seem a very easy thing to make a coat; but very expert +craftsmen--craftsmen that can produce more difficult and elaborate +pieces of workmanship, fail utterly when they come to a coat. The only +reason why they can not make a coat is, that they are not tailors. Now +there are many very able and learned men, who can compass greater +efforts of human intellect than the production of a newspaper article, +but who can not write a newspaper at all, because they we not +newspaper-writers, or criticise a book with decent effect, because they +are not critics. Article-writing comes "by art not chance." The efforts +of chance writers, if they be men of genius and learning, are things to +break one's heart over. + +It is not enough to think and to know. It requires the faculty of +utterance, and a peculiar kind of utterance. Certain things are to be +said in a certain manner; and your amateur article-writer is sure to say +them in any manner but the right. Perhaps of all styles of writing there +is none in which excellency is so rarely attained as that of +newspaper-writing. A readable leading article may not be a work of the +loftiest order, or demand for its execution the highest attributes of +genius; but, whatever it may be, the power of accomplishing it with +success is not shared by "thousands of clever fellows." Thousands of +clever fellows, fortified by Mr. Thackeray's opinion, may think that +they could write the articles which they read in the morning journals; +but let them take pen and paper and _try_. + +We think it only fair that professional authors should have the credit +of being able to do what other people can not. They do not claim to +themselves a monoply of talent. They do not think themselves capable of +conducting a case in a court of law, as cleverly as a queen's counsel, +or of getting a sick man through the typhus fever as skillfully as a +practiced physician. But it is hard that they should not receive credit +for being able to write better articles than either the one or the +other; or, perhaps it is more to the purpose to say, than the briefless +lawyers and patientless medical students who are glad to earn a guinea +by their pens. Men are not born article-writers any more than they are +born doctors of law, or doctors of physic; as the ludicrous failures, +which are every day thrown into the rubbish-baskets of all our newspaper +offices, demonstrate past all contradiction. Incompetency is manifested +in a variety of ways, but an irrepressible tendency to fine writing is +associated with the greater number of them. Give a clever young medical +student a book about aural or dental surgery to review, and the chances +are ten to one that the criticism will be little else than a high-flown +grandiloquent treatise on the wonders of the creation. A regular +"literary hack" will do the thing much better. + +If there be any set of men--we can not call it a _class_, for it is +drawn from all classes--who might be supposed to possess' a certain +capacity for periodical writing, it is the fraternity of members of +Parliament. They are in the habit of selecting given subjects for +consideration--of collecting facts and illustrations--of arranging +arguments--and of expressing themselves after a manner. They are for the +most part men of education, of a practical turn of mind, well acquainted +with passing events, and, in many instances, in possession just of that +kind of available talent which is invaluable to periodical writers. But +very few of them can write an article, either for a newspaper or a +review, without inflicting immense trouble upon the editor. Sometimes +the matter it contains will be worth the pains bestowed upon it; but it +very often happens that it is _not_. It is one thing to make a +speech--another to write an article. But the speech often, no less than +the article, requires editorial supervision. The reporter is the +speaker's editor, and a very efficient one too. In a large number of +cases, the speaker owes more to the reporter than he would willingly +acknowledge. The speech as spoken would often be unreadable, but that +the reporter finishes the unfinished sentences, and supplies meanings +which are rather suggested than expressed. It would be easy to name +members who are capable of writing admirable articles; but many of them +owe their position in the House to some antecedent connection with the +press, or have become, in some manner regularly "connected with the +press;" and have acquired, by long practice, the capacity of +article-writing. But take any half-dozen members indiscriminately out of +the House, and set them down to write articles on any subject which they +may have just heard debated, and see how grotesque will be their +efforts? They may be very "clever fellows," but that they can write +articles as well as men whose profession it is to write them, we take +upon ourselves emphatically to deny. + + + + +ANECDOTE OF LORD CLIVE. + + +Although of a gloomy temperament, and from the earliest age evincing +those characteristics of pride and shyness which rendered him unsocial, +and therefore unpopular in general society, this nobleman, in the +private walks of life, was amiable, and peculiarly disinterested. While +in India, his correspondence with those of his own family, evinced in a +remarkable degree those right and kindly feelings which could hardly +have been expected from Clive, considering the frowardness of early life +and the inflexible sternness of more advanced age. When the foundation +of his fortune was laid. Lord Clive evinced a praiseworthy recollection +of the friends of his early days. He bestowed an annuity of 800 on his +parents, while to other relations and friends he was proportionately +liberal. He was a devotedly attached husband, as his letters to Lady +Clive bear testimony. Her maiden name was Maskelyne, sister to the +eminent mathematician, so called, who long held the post of astronomer +royal. This marriage, which took place in 1752, with the circumstances +attending it, are somewhat singular, and worth recording: Clive, who was +at that period just twenty-seven, had formed a previous friendship with +one of the lady's brothers, like himself a resident at Madras. The +brother and sister, it appears, kept up an affectionate and constant +correspondence--that is, as constant an interchange of epistolary +communication as could be accomplished nearly a century ago, when the +distance between Great Britain and the East appeared so much more +formidable, and the facilities of postal conveyance so comparatively +tardy. The epistles of the lady, through the partiality of her brother, +were frequently shown to Clive, and they bespoke her to be what from all +accounts she was--a woman of very superior understanding, and of much +amiability of character. Clive was charmed with her letters, for in +those days, be it remembered, the fair sex were not so familiarized to +the pen as at the present period. At that time, to indite a really good +epistle as to penmanship and diction, was a formidable task, and what +few ladies, comparatively speaking, could attain to. The accomplished +sister of Dr. Maskelyne was one of the few exceptions, and so strongly +did her epistolary powers attract the interest, and gain for her the +affections of Clive, that it ended by his offering to marry the young +lady, if she could be induced to visit her brother at Madras. The +latter, through whom the suggestion was to be made, hesitated, and +seemed inclined to discourage the proposition; but Clive in this +instance evinced that determination of purpose which was so strong a +feature in his character. He could urge, too, with more confidence a +measure on which so much of his happiness depended--for he was now no +longer the poor neglected boy, sent out to seek his fortune, but one who +had already acquired a fame which promised future greatness. In short, +he would take no refusal; and then was the brother of Miss Maskelyne +forced to own, that highly as his sister was endowed with every mental +qualification, nature had been singularly unfavorable to her--personal +attractions she had none. The future hero of Plassy was not, however, to +be deterred--but he made this compromise: If the lady could be prevailed +upon to visit India, and that neither party, on a personal acquaintance, +felt disposed for a nearer connection, the sum of 5000 was to be +presented to her. With this understanding all scruples were overcome. +Miss Maskelyne went out to India, and immediately after became the wife +of Clive, who, already prejudiced in her favor, is said to have +expressed himself surprised that she should ever have been represented +to him as plain. So much for the influence of mind and manner over mere +personal endowments. With the sad end of this distinguished general +every reader is familiar. His lady survived the event by many years, and +lived to a benevolent and venerable old age. + + + + +[From The Ladies' Companion.] + +THE IMPRISONED LADY. + + +We derive the following curious passage of life one hundred years since, +from the second Series of Mr. Burke's "Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:" + +Lady Cathcart was one of the four daughters of Mr. Malyn, of Southwark +and Battersea, in Surrey. She married four times, but never had any +issue. Her first husband was James Fleet, Esq., of the City of London, +Lord of the Manor of Tewing; her second, Captain Sabine, younger +brother of General Joseph Sabine, of Quinohall; her third, Charles, +eighth Lord Cathcart, of the kingdom of Scotland, Commander-in-Chief of +the Forces in the West Indies; and her fourth,[K] Hugh Macguire, an +officer in the Hungarian service, for whom she bought a +lieutenant-colonel's commission in the British army, and whom she also +survived. She was not encouraged, however, by his treatment, to verify +the resolution, which she inscribed as a posy on her wedding-ring: + + "If I survive, + I will have five." + +Her avowed motives for these several engagements were, for the first, +obedience to her parents; for the second, money; for the third, title; +and for the fourth, submission to the fact that "the devil owed her a +grudge, and would punish her for her sins." In the last union she met +with her match. The Hibernian fortune-hunter wanted only her money. Soon +after their marriage, she discovered her grievous mistake, and became +alarmed lest the colonel, who was desperately in love, not with the +widow, but with the "widow's jointured land," designed to carry her off, +and to get absolute power over all her property; to prepare for the +worst, her ladyship plaited some of her jewels in her hair, and quilted +others in her petticoat. Meanwhile the mistress of the colonel so far +insinuated herself into his wife's confidence that she learned where her +will was deposited; and Macguire getting sight of it, insisted on an +alteration in his favor, under a threat of instant death. Lady +Cathcart's apprehensions of the loss of her personal freedom proved to +be not without foundation; one morning, when she and her husband went +out from Tewing to take an airing, she proposed, after a time, to +return, but he desired to go a little further. The coachman drove on; +she remonstrated, "they should not be back by dinner-time." "Be not the +least uneasy on that account," rejoined Macguire; "we do not dine to-day +at Tewing, but at Chester, whither we are journeying." Vain were all the +lady's efforts and expostulations. Her sudden disappearance excited the +alarm of her friends, and an attorney was sent in pursuit, with a writ +of _habeas corpus_ or _ne exeat regno_. He overtook the travelers at an +inn at Chester, and succeeding in obtaining an interview with the +husband, demanded a sight of Lady Cathcart. The colonel, skilled in +expedients, and aware that his wife's person was unknown, assured the +attorney that he should see her ladyship immediately, and he would find +that she was going to Ireland with her own free consent. Thereupon +Macguire persuaded a woman, whom he had properly tutored, to personate +his wife. The attorney asked the supposed captive, if she accompanied +Colonel Macguire to Ireland of her own good-will? "Perfectly so," said +the woman. Astonished at such an answer, he begged pardon, made a low +bow, and set out again for London. Macguire thought that possibly Mr. +Attorney might recover his senses, find how he had been deceived, and +yet stop his progress; and in order to make all safe, he sent two or +three fellows after him, with directions to plunder him of all he had, +particularly of his papers. They faithfully executed their commission; +and when the colonel had the writ in his possession, he knew that he was +safe. He then took my lady over to Ireland, and kept her there, a +prisoner, locked up in his own house at Tempo, in Fermanagh, for many +years; during which period he was visited by the neighboring gentry, and +it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady +Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honor to drink her +ladyship's health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at +table that she would like to eat? The answer was always--"Lady +Cathcart's compliments, and she has every thing she wants." An instance +of honesty in a poor Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart +had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her +husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he +should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to whom she +could intrust them, but she had observed a beggar who used to come to +the house, she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was +confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart +threw a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. + +The poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed; +and several years afterward, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, +she received her diamonds safely. At Colonel Macguire's death, which +occurred in 1764, her ladyship was released. When she was first informed +of the fact, she imagined that the news could not be true, and that it +was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At the time of her +deliverance she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore a +red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupefied: she said +that she scarcely knew one human creature from another: her imprisonment +had lasted nearly twenty years. The moment she regained her freedom she +hastened to England, to her house at Tewing, but the tenant, a Mr. +Joseph Steele, refusing to render up possession, Lady Cathcart had to +bring an action of ejectment, attended the assizes in person, and gained +the cause. At Tewing she continued to reside for the remainder of her +life. The only subsequent notice we find of her is, that, at the age of +eighty, she took part in the gayeties of the Welwyn Assembly, and danced +with the spirit of a girl. She did not die until 1789, when she was in +her ninety-eighth year. + +In the mansion-house of Tempo, now the property of Sir John Emerson +Tennent, the room is still shown in which Lady Cathcart was imprisoned. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[K] Lady Cathcart's marriage to Macguire took place 18th May, 1745. + + + + +LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + +FROM OUR FOREIGN FILES, AND UNPUBLISHED BOOKS. + + +Sidney Smith's account of the origin of the _Edinburgh Review_ is well +known. The following statement was written by Lord Jeffrey, at the +request of Robert Chambers, in November, 1846, and is now first made +public: "I can not say exactly where the project of the _Edinburgh +Review_ was first talked of among the projectors. But the first serious +consultations about it--and which led to our application to a +publisher--were held in a small house, where I then lived, in +_Buccleugh-place_ (I forget the number). They were attended by S. Smith, +F. Horner, Dr. Thomas Brown, Lord Murray, and some of them also by Lord +Webb Seymour, Dr. John Thomson, and Thomas Thomson. The first three +numbers were given to the publisher--he taking the risk and defraying +the charges. There was then no individual editor, but as many of us as +could be got to attend used to meet in a dingy room of Willson's +printing office, in Craig's Close, where the proofs of our own articles +were read over and remarked upon, and attempts made also to sit in +judgment on the few manuscripts which were then offered by strangers. +But we had seldom patience to go through with this; and it was soon +found necessary to have a responsible editor, and the office was pressed +upon me. About the same time Constable was told that he must allow ten +guineas a sheet to the contributors, to which he at once assented; and +not long after, the _minimum_ was raised to sixteen guineas, at which it +remained during my reign. Two-thirds of the articles were paid much +higher--averaging, I should think, from twenty to twenty-five guineas a +sheet on the whole number. I had, I might say, an unlimited discretion +in this respect, and must do the publishers the justice to say that they +never made the slightest objection. Indeed, as we all knew that they had +(for a long time at least) a very great profit, they probably felt that +they were at our mercy. Smith was by far the most timid of the +confederacy, and believed that, unless our incognito was strictly +maintained, we could not go on a day; and this was his object for making +us hold our dark divans at Willson's office, to which he insisted on our +repairing singly, and by back approaches or different lanes! He also had +so strong an impression of Brougham's indiscretion and rashness, that he +would not let him be a member of our association, though wished for by +all the rest. He was admitted, however, after the third number, and did +more work for us than any body. Brown took offense at some alterations +Smith had made in a trifling article of his in the second number, and +left us thus early; publishing at the same time in a magazine the fact +of his secession--a step which we all deeply regretted, and thought +scarcely justified by the provocation. Nothing of the kind occurred ever +after." + +Constable soon remunerated the editor with a liberality corresponding to +that with which contributors were treated. From 1803 to 1809 Jeffrey +received 200 guineas for editing each number. For the ensuing three +years, the account-books are missing; but from 1813 to 1826 he is +credited 700 for editing each number. + + * * * * * + +The "_Economist_" closes an article upon the late Sir ROBERT PEEL with +the following just and eloquent summation: + +"Sir Robert was a scholar, and a liberal and discerning patron of the +arts. Though not social, he was a man of literary interests and of +elegant and cultivated taste. Possessed of immense wealth, with every +source and avenue of enjoyment at his command, it is no slight merit in +him that he preferred to such refined enjoyment the laborious service of +his country. He was no holiday or _dillettanti_ statesman. His industry +was prodigious, and he seemed actually to love work. His toil in the +memorable six months of 1835 was something absolutely prodigious; in +1842 and 1843 scarcely less so. His work was always done in a masterly +and business-like style, which testified to the conscientious diligence +he had bestowed upon it. His measures rarely had to be altered or +modified in their passage through the House. In manners he was always +decorous--never over-bearing or insulting, and if ever led by the heat +of contest into any harsh or unbecoming expression, was always prompt to +apologize or retract. By his unblemished private character, by his +unrivaled administrative ability, by his vast public services, his +unvarying moderation, he had impressed not only England but the world at +large with a respect and confidence such as few attain. After many +fluctuations of repute, he had at length reached an eminence on which he +stood--independent of office, independent of party--one of the +acknowledged potentates of Europe; face to face, in the evening of life, +with his work and his reward--his work, to aid the progress of those +principles on which, after much toil, many sacrifices, and long groping +toward the light, he had at length laid a firm grasp; his guerdon, to +watch their triumph. Nobler occupation man could not aspire to; sublimer +power no ambition need desire; greater earthly reward, God, out of all +the riches of his boundless treasury has not to bestow." + +Numerous projects for monuments to the deceased statesman have been +broached. In reference to these, and to the poverty of thought, and +waste of means, which in the present age builds for all time with +materials so perishable as statues, a correspondent of the _Athenum_ +suggests, as a more intelligent memorial, the foundation of a national +university for the education of the sons of the middle classes. Ours, he +says, are not the days for copying the forms of ancient Rome as +interpreters of feelings and inspirations which the Romans never knew. +While the statues which they reared are dispersed, and the columns they +erected are crumbling to decay, their thoughts, as embodied in their +literature, are with us yet, testifying forever of the great spirits +which perished from among them, but left, in this sure and abiding form, +the legacy of their minds. + + * * * * * + +The effect upon civilization of the Ownership of the Land being in the +hands of a few, or of the many, has been earnestly discussed by writers +on political and social economy. Two books have recently been published +in England, which have an important bearing upon this subject. One is by +SAMUEL LAING, Esq. the well known traveler, and the other by JOSEPH KAY, +Esq. of Cambridge. Both these writers testify that in the continental +countries which they have examined--more especially in Germany, France, +Holland, Belgium and Switzerland--they have found a state of society +which does fulfill in a very eminent degree all the conditions of a most +advanced civilization. They have found in those countries education, +wealth, comfort, and self-respect; and they have found that the whole +body of the people in those countries participate in the enjoyment of +these great blessings to an extent which very far exceeds the +participation in them of the great mass of the population of England. +These two travelers perfectly agree in the declaration that during the +last-thirty or forty years the inequality of social condition among +men--the deterioration toward two great classes of very rich and very +poor--has made very little progress in the continental states with which +they are familiar. They affirm that a class of absolute paupers in any +degree formidable from its numbers has yet to be created in those +states. They represent in the most emphatic language the immense +superiority in education, manners, conduct, and the supply of the +ordinary wants of a civilized being, of the German, Swiss, Dutch, +Belgian and French peasantry over the peasantry and poorer classes not +only of Ireland, but also of England and Scotland. This is the general +and the most decided result with reference to the vital question of the +condition and prospects of the peasantry and poorer classes, neither Mr. +Laing nor Mr. Kay have any doubt whatever that the advantage rests in +the most marked manner with the continental states which they have +examined over Great Britain. According to Mr. Laing and Mr. Kay, the +cause of this most important difference is--_the distribution of the +ownership of land_. On the continent, the people _own_ and _cultivate_ +the land. In the British islands the land is held in large masses by a +few persons; the class practically employed in agriculture are either +_tenants_ or _laborers_, who do not act under the stimulus of a personal +interest in the soil they cultivate. + + * * * * * + +A self-taught artist named Carter has recently died at Coggshall, Essex, +where he had for many years resided. He was originally a farm laborer, +and by accident lost the power of every part of his body but the head +and neck. By the force of perseverance and an active mind, however, he +acquired the power of drawing and painting, by holding the pencil +between his lips and teeth, when placed there by the kind offices of an +affectionate sister. In this manner he had not only whiled away the +greater part of fourteen years of almost utter physical helplessness, +but has actually produced works which have met with high commendation. +His groups and compositions are said to have been "most delicately +worked and highly finished." The poor fellow had contemplated the +preparation of some grand work for the International Exhibition, but the +little of physical life remaining in him was lately extinguished by a +new accident. + + * * * * * + +CONVERSATION OF LITERARY MEN.--Literary men talk less than they did. +They seldom "lay out" much for conversation. The conversational, like +the epistolary age, is past; and we have come upon the age of periodical +literature. People neither put their best thoughts and their available +knowledge into their letters, nor keep them for evening conversation. +The literary men of 1850 have a keener eye to the value of their +stock-in-trade, and keep it well garnered up, for conversion, as +opportunity offers, into the current coin of the realm. There is some +periodical vehicle, nowadays, for the reception of every possible kind +of literary ware. The literary man converses now through the medium of +the Press, and turns every thing into copyright at once. He can not +afford to drop his ideas by the way-side; he must keep them to himself, +until the printing-press has made them inalienably his own. If a happy +historical or literary illustration occurs to him, it will do for a +review article; if some un-hackneyed view of a great political question +presents itself to him, it may be worked into his next leader; if some +trifling adventure has occurred to him, or he has picked up a novel +anecdote in the course of his travels, it may be reproduced in a page of +magazine matter, or a column of a cheap weekly serial. Even puns are not +to be distributed gratis. There is a property in a _double-entente_, +which its parent will not willingly forego. The smallest jokelet is a +marketable commodity. The dinner-table is sacrificed to _Punch_. There +is too much competition in these days, too many hungry candidates for +the crumbs that fall from the thinker's table, not to make him chary of +his offerings. In these days, every scrap of knowledge--every happy +thought--every felicitous turn of expression, is of some value to a +literary man; the forms of periodical literature are so many and so +varied. He can seldom afford to give any thing away; and there is no +reason why he should. It is not so easy a thing to turn one's ideas into +bread, that a literary man need be at no pains to preserve his property +in them. We do not find that artists give away their sketches, or that +professional singers perform promiscuously at private parties. Perhaps, +in these days of much publishing, professional authors are wise in +keeping the best of themselves for their books and articles. We have +known professional writers talk criticism; but we have generally found +it to be the very reverse of what they have published. + + * * * * * + +REWARDS OF LITERATURE.--Literature has been treated with much +ingratitude, even by those who owe most to it. If we do not quite say +with Goldsmith, that it supports many dull fellows in opulence, we may +assert, with undeniable truth, that it supports, or ought to support, +many clever ones in comfort and respectability. If it does not it is +less the fault of the profession than the professors themselves. There +are many men now in London, Edinburgh, and other parts of the country, +earning from 1000 to 300 per annum by their literary labors, and some, +with very little effort, earning considerably more. It is no part of our +plan in the present article to mix up modern instances with our wise +saws, else might we easily name writers who, for contributions to the +periodical press, for serial installments of popular tales, and other +literary commodities, demanding no very laborious efforts of +intellectual industry, have received from flourishing newspaper +proprietors and speculative booksellers, sums of money which it would be +difficult to earn with equal facility in any other learned profession. +An appointment on the editorial staff of a leading daily paper is in +itself a small fortune to a man. The excellence of the articles is, for +the most part, in proportion to the sum paid for them; and a successful +morning journal will generally find it good policy to pay its +contributors in such a manner as to secure the entire produce of their +minds, or, at all events, to get the best fruits that they are capable +of yielding. If a man can earn a comfortable independence by writing +three or four leading articles a week, there is no need that he should +have his pen ever in his hand, that he should be continually toiling at +other and less profitable work. But if he is to keep himself ever fresh +and ever vigorous for one master he must be paid for it. There are +instances of public writers who had shown evident signs of exhaustion +when employed on one paper--who had appeared, indeed, to have written +themselves out so thoroughly, that the proprietors were fain to dispense +with their future services--transferring those services to another +paper, under more encouraging circumstances of renumeration, and, as +though endued with new life, striking out articles fresh, vigorous, and +brilliant. They gave themselves to the one paper; they had only given a +part of themselves to the other. + + * * * * * + +SCHAMYL, the Prophet of the Caucasus, through whose inspiriting +leadership the Caucasians have maintained a successful struggle against +the gigantic power of Russia for many years, is described by a recent +writer as a man of middle stature; he has light hair, gray eyes, shaded +by bushy and well-arched eyebrows; a nose finely moulded, and a small +mouth. His features are distinguished from those of his race by a +peculiar fairness of complexion and delicacy of skin: the elegant form +of his hands and feet is not less remarkable. The apparent stiffness of +his arms, when he walks, is a sign of his stern and impenetrable +character His address is thoroughly noble and dignified. Of himself he +is completely master; and he exerts a tacit supremacy over all who +approach him. An immovable, stony calmness, which never forsakes him, +even in moments of the utmost danger, broods over his countenance. He +passes a sentence of death with the same composure with which he +distributes "the sabre of honor" to his bravest Murids, after a bloody +encounter. With traitors or criminals whom he has resolved to destroy he +will converse without betraying the least sign of anger or vengeance. He +regards himself as a mere instrument in the hands of a higher Being; and +holds, according to the Sufi doctrine, that all his thoughts and +determinations are immediate inspirations from God. The flow of his +speech is as animating and irresistible as his outward appearance is +awful and commanding. "He shoots flames from his eyes and scatters +flowers from his lips," said Bersek Bey, who sheltered him for some days +after the fall of Achulgo, when Schamyl dwelt for some time among the +princes of the Djighetes and Ubiches, for the purpose of inciting the +tribes on the Black Sea to rise against the Russians. Schamyl is now +fifty years old, but still full of vigor and strength; it is however +said, that he has for some years past suffered from an obstinate disease +of the eyes, which is constantly growing worse. He fills the intervals +of leisure which his public charges allow him, in reading the Koran, +fasting, and prayer. Of late years he has but seldom, and then only on +critical occasions, taken a personal share in warlike encounters. In +spite of his almost supernatural activity, Schamyl is excessively severe +and temperate in his habits. A few hours of sleep are enough for him; at +times he will watch for the whole night, without showing the least trace +of fatigue on the following day. He eats little, and water is his only +beverage. According to Mohammedan custom, he keeps several wives. In +1844 he had _three_, of which his favorite (Pearl of the Harem, as she +was called) was an Armenian, of exquisite beauty. + + * * * * * + +A Frankfort journal states that the colossal statue of Bavaria, by +Schwanthaler, which is to be placed on the hill of Seudling, surpasses +in its gigantic proportions all the works of the moderns. It will have +to be removed in pieces from the foundry where it is cast to its place +of destination, and each piece will require sixteen horses to draw it. +The great toes are each half a mtre in length. In the head two persons +could dance a polka very conveniently, while the nose might lodge the +musician. The thickness of the robe, which forms a rich drapery +descending to the ankles, is about six inches, and its circumference at +the bottom about two hundred mtres. The Crown of Victory which the +figure holds in her hands weighs one hundred quintals (a quintal is a +hundred weight). + + * * * * * + +WORDSWORTH'S prose writings are not numerous; and with the exception of +the well-known prefaces to his minor poems, they are little known. A +paper or two in Coleridge's _Friend_, and a political tract occasioned +by the convention of Cintra, form important and valuable contributions +to the prose literature of the country. We would especially call +attention to the introductory part of the third volume of the _Friend_, +as containing a very beautiful development of Mr. Wordsworth's opinions +on the moral worth and intellectual character of the age in which it was +his destiny to live. The political tract is very scarce; but we may +safely affirm, that it contains some of the finest writing in the +English language. Many of its passages can be paralleled only by the +majestic periods of Milton's prose, or perhaps by the vehement and +impassioned eloquence of Demosthenes. Its tone is one of sustained +elevation, and in sententious moral and political wisdom it will bear a +comparison with the greatest productions of Burke. We trust that this +pamphlet will be republished. A collection and separate publication of +all Mr. Wordsworth's prose writings would form a valuable addition to +English literature. + +Mr. Wordsworth's conversation was eminently rich, various, and +instructive. Attached to his mountain home, and loving solitude as the +nurse of his genius, he was no recluse, but keenly enjoyed the pleasures +of social intercourse. He had seen much of the world, and lived on terms +of intimate friendship with some of the most illustrious characters of +his day. His reading was extensive, but select; indeed, his mind could +assimilate only the greater productions of intellect. To criticism he +was habitually indifferent; and when solicited for his opinions, he was +generally as reserved in his praise as he was gentle in his censures. +For some of his contemporaries he avowed the highest respect; but +Coleridge was the object of his deepest affection as a friend, and of +his veneration as a philosopher. Of the men who acted important parts in +the political drama of the last century, the homage of his highest +admiration was given to Burke, who, after Shakspeare and Bacon, he +thought the greatest being that Nature had ever created in the human +form. + +The last few years of Mr. Wordsworth's life were saddened by +affliction. They who were admitted to the privilege of occasional +intercourse with the illustrious poet in his later days will long dwell +with deep and affectionate interest upon his earnest conversation while +he wandered through the shaded walks of the grounds which he loved so +well, and ever and anon paused to look down upon the gleaming lake as +its silver radiance was reflected through the trees which embosomed his +mountain home. Long will the accents of that "old man eloquent" linger +in their recollection, and their minds retain the impression of that +pensive and benevolent countenance. The generation of those who have +gazed upon his features will pass away and be forgotten. The marble, +like the features which it enshrines, will crumble into dust. _Ut vultus +hominum ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt, forma mentis +terna_; the attributes of his mighty intellect are stamped for ever +upon his works which will be transmitted to future ages as a portion of +their most precious inheritance. + + * * * * * + +No man is more enshrined in the heart of the French people than the poet +BERANGER. A few weeks since he went one evening with one of his nephews +to the _Clos des Lilas_, a garden in the students' quarter devoted to +dancing in the open air, intending to look for a few minutes upon a +scene he had not visited since his youth, and then withdraw. But he +found it impossible to remain unknown and unobserved. The announcement +of his presence ran through the garden in a moment. The dances stopped, +the music ceased, and the crowd thronged toward the point where the +still genial and lovely old man was standing. At once there rose from +all lips the cry of _Vive Beranger!_ which was quickly followed by that +of _Vive la Republique_. The poet, whose diffidence is excessive, could +not answer a word, but only smiled and blushed his thanks at this +enthusiastic reception. The acclamations continuing, an agent of the +police invited him to withdraw, lest his presence might occasion +disorder. The illustrious song-writer at once obeyed; by a singular +coincidence the door through which he went out opened upon the place +where Marshal Ney was shot. + + * * * * * + +THE PARIS ACADEMY OF INSCRIPTIONS AND BELLES LETTRES is constantly +sending forth the most valuable contributions, to the history of the +middle ages especially. It is now completing the publication of the +sixth volume of the Charters, Diplomas, and other documents relating to +French history. This volume, which was prepared by M. Pardessus, +includes the period from the beginning of 1220 to the end of 1270, and +comprehends the reign of St. Louis. The seventh volume, coming down some +fifty years later, is also nearly ready for the printer. Its editor is +M. Laboulaye. The first volume of the Oriental Historians of the +Crusaders, translated into French, is now going through the press, and +the second is in course of preparation. The greater part of the first +volume of the Greek Historians of the same chivalrous wars is also +printed, and the work is going rapidly forward. The Academy is also +preparing a collection of Occidental History on the same subject. When +these three collections are published, all the documents of any value +relating to the Crusades will be easily accessible, whether for the use +of the historian or the romancer. The Academy is also now engaged in +getting out the twenty-first volume of the History of the Gauls and of +France, and the nineteenth of the Literary History of France, which +brings the annals of French letters down to the thirteenth century. It +is also publishing the sixteenth volume of its own Memoirs, which +contains the history of the Academy for the last four years, and the +work of Freret on Geography, besides several other works of less +interest. From all this some idea may be formed of the labors and +usefulness of the institution. + + * * * * * + +In speaking of the advantage of education to Mechanics, Robert Hall says +that it has a tendency to exalt the character, and, in some measure, to +correct and subdue the taste for gross sensuality. It enables the +possessor to beguile his leisure moments (and every man has such) in an +innocent, at least, if not in a useful manner. The poor man who can +read, and who possesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at +home, without being tempted to repair to the public-house for that +purpose. His mind can find employment where his body is at rest. There +is in the mind of such a man an intellectual spring, urging him to the +pursuit of mental good; and if the minds of his family are also a little +cultivated, conversation becomes the more interesting, and the sphere of +domestic enjoyment enlarged. The calm satisfaction which books afford +puts him into a disposition to relish more exquisitely the tranquil +delight of conjugal and parental affection; and as he will be more +respectable in the eyes of his family than he who can teach them +nothing, he will be naturally induced to cultivate whatever may +preserve, and to shun whatever would impair that respect. + + * * * * * + +For producing steel pens the best Dennemora--Swedish iron--or hoop iron +is selected. It is worked into sheets or slips about three feet long, +and four or five inches broad, the thickness varying with the desired +stiffness and flexibility of the pen for which it is intended. By a +stamping press pieces of the required size are cut out. The point +intended for the nib is introduced into a gauged hole, and by a machine +pressed into a semi-cylindrical shape. In the same machine it is pierced +with the required slit or slits. This being effected, the pens are +cleaned by mutual attrition in tin cylinders, and tempered, as in the +case of the steel plate, by being brought to the required color by heat. +Some idea of the extent of this manufacture will be formed from the +statement, that nearly 150 tons of steel are employed annually for this +purpose, producing upward of 250,000,000 pens. + + * * * * * + +Philosophers abroad are working diligently at many interesting branches +of physical science: magneto and muscular electricity, dia-magnetism, +vegetable and animal physiology: Matteucci in Italy, Bois-Reymond, +Weber, Reichenbach, and Dove in Germany. The two maps of isothermal +lines for every month in the year, lately published by the +last-mentioned _savant_, are remarkable and most valuable proofs of +scientific insight and research. If they are to be depended on, there is +but one pole of cold, situate in Northern America; that supposed to +exist in the Asiatic continent disappears when the monthly means are +taken. These maps will be highly useful to the meteorologist, and indeed +to students of natural philosophy generally, and will suggest other and +more-extended results. + + * * * * * + +A communication from M. Trmaux, an Abyssinian traveler, has been +presented to the French Academy by M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire: it gives an +account of the sudden difference which occurs in the races of men and +animals near Fa Zoglo, in the vicinity of the Blue Nile. The shores of +this stream are inhabited by a race of Caucasian origin, whose sheep +have woolly coats; but at a few miles' distance, in the mountains of +Zaby and Akaro, negro tribes are found whose sheep are hairy. According +to M. Trvaux, 'the differences and changes are due to two causes: the +one, that vegetable nature, having changed in aspect and production, +attracts and supports certain species, while others no longer appear, or +the individuals are fewer. As for the second cause, it is the more +surprising, since it produces opposite effects on the same point: where +man has no longer silken, but woolly hair, there the sheep ceases to be +covered with wool.' M. St. Hilaire remarked on these facts, that the +degree of domestication of animals is proportional to the degree of +civilization of those who possess them. Among savage people dogs are +nearly all alike, and not far removed from the wolf or jackal; while +among civilized races there is an almost endless variety--the greater +part far removed from the primitive type. Are we to infer from this that +negroes will cease to be negroes by dint of civilization--that wool will +give place to hair, and _vice vers_? If so, a wide field is opened for +experiment and observation. + + + + +MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS. + + +The action of Congress during the past month has been of more than usual +interest. The Senate has finally disposed of the Compromise Bill, which +has absorbed its discussions for nearly the whole of the session, and +has taken definite action upon all the subjects which that bill +embraced. On the 30th of July, the bill being before the Senate, a +resolution offered by Senator BRADBURY, of Maine, was pending, +authorizing the appointment of Commissioners by the United States and +Texas, for the adjustment of the boundary line between Texas and New +Mexico. To this Mr. DAWSON, of Ga., offered an amendment, providing that +until the boundary should have been agreed to, no territorial government +should go into operation east of the Rio Grande, nor should any state +government be established to include that territory. This amendment was +adopted, ayes 30, noes 28. Mr. BRADBURY'S resolution, thus amended, was +then adopted by the same vote. On the 31st the bill came up for final +action. Mr. NORRIS moved to strike out the clause restricting the +Legislature of New Mexico from establishing or prohibiting slavery. This +was carried, 32 to 20. Mr. PEARCE, of Maryland, then moved to strike out +all relating to New Mexico, which was carried by a vote of 33 to 22. He +then moved to re-insert it, omitting the amendment of Messrs. Bradbury +and Dawson--his object being by this roundabout process (which was the +only way in which it could be reached), to reverse the vote adopting +that amendment. His motion was very warmly and strongly resisted, and +various amendments offered to it were voted down. The motion itself was +then put and lost, ayes 25, nays 28. This left nothing in the bill +except the provision for admitting California and that establishing a +territorial government for Utah. Mr. WALKER, of Wisconsin, then moved to +strike out all except that part relating to California. This was lost, +ayes 22, nays 33. Mr. ATCHISON, of Missouri, moved to strike out all +relating to California. This motion was first lost by a tie vote, but a +reconsideration was moved by Mr. WINTHROP and carried, and then the +motion prevailed, ayes 34, nays 25. The Bill thus contained nothing but +the sections relating to Utah, and in that shape it was passed, ayes 32, +nays 18. Thus the Compromise bill, reported early in the session, and +earnestly debated from that time forward, was decisively rejected. On +the very next day, the 1st of August, the bill for the admission of +California was made the special order by a vote of 34 to 23. Mr. FOOTE, +of Miss., offered an amendment that California should not exercise her +jurisdiction over territory south of 35 30'. Mr. CLAY in an earnest and +eloquent speech, after regretting the fate of the Compromise Bill, said +he wished it to be distinctly understood that if any state or states, or +any portion of the people, should array themselves in arms against the +Union, he was for testing the strength of the government, to ascertain +whether it had the ability to maintain itself. He avowed the most +unwavering attachment to the Union, and declared his purpose to raise +both his voice and his arm in support of the Union and the Constitution. +He had been in favor of passing the several measures together: he was +now in favor of passing them separately: but whether passed or not, he +was in favor of putting down any and all resistance to the federal +authority. After some debate, Mr. FOOTE'S amendment was negatived, yeas +23, nays 33. On the 6th of August Mr. TURNEY, of Tennessee, offered an +amendment, dividing California into two territories, which may hereafter +form state constitutions. This was rejected, ayes 29, nays 32. Mr. YULEE +offered an amendment, establishing a provisional government, which he +advocated in a speech extending through three days: on the 10th it was +rejected by a vote of 12 to 35 An amendment offered by Mr. Foote, +erecting the part of California south of 36 30' into a distinct +territory, was rejected by a vote of 13 to 30. On the 12th the bill was +ordered to be engrossed, yeas 33, nays 19; and on the 13th, after a +brief but warm debate, in the course of which Senators BERRIEN and +CLEMENS denounced the bill as fraught with mischief and peril to the +Union, and Mr. HOUSTON ridiculed the apprehensions thus expressed, the +bill was finally passed, yeas 34, nays 18, as follows: + +YEAS--Messrs. Baldwin, Bell, Benton, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Chase, +Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dickinson, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Dodge, +of Iowa, Douglas, Ewing, Felch, Green, Hale, Hamlin, Houston, Jones, +Miller, Norris, Phelps, Seward, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, +Underwood, Upham, Wales, Walker, Whitcomb, and Winthrop--34. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Barnwell, Berrien, Butler, Clemens, Davis, of +Mississippi, Dawson, Foote, Hunter, King, Mason, Morton, Pratt, Rusk, +Sebastian, Soul, Turney, and Yulee--18. + +The next day a Protest against the admission of California, signed by +Senators Mason and Hunter, of Virginia, Butler and Barnwell, of South +Carolina, Turney, of Tennessee, Soul, of Louisiana, Davis, of +Mississippi, Atchison, of Missouri, and Morton and Yulee, of Florida, +was presented, and a request made that it might be entered on the +Journal. This, however, the Senate refused. Thus was completed the +action of the Senate on the admission of California. + +On the 5th of August Mr. PEARCE, of Md., introduced a bill, making +proposals to Texas for the settlement of her western and northern +boundaries. It proposes that the boundary on the north shall commence at +the point where the meridian of 100 west longitude intersects the +parallel of 36 30' north latitude, and shall run due west to the +meridian of 103 west longitude: thence it shall run due south to the +32d degree north latitude, thence on the said parallel to the Rio del +Norte, and thence with the channel of said river to the Gulf of Mexico. +For relinquishing all claims to the United States government for +territory beyond the line thus defined, the bill proposes to pay Texas +ten millions of dollars. The bill was debated for several successive +days, and on the 9th was ordered to be engrossed, yeas 27, nays 24, and +received its final passage on the same day, yeas 30, nays 20, as +follows: + +YEAS.--Messrs. Badger, Bell, Berrien, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Clarke, +Clemens, Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dawson, Dickinson, Dodge, of +Iowa, Douglas, Felch, Foote, Greene, Houston, King, Norris, Pearce, +Phelps, Rusk, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, Wales, Whitcomb, and +Winthrop--30. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Baldwin, Barnwell, Benton, Butler, Chase, +Davis, of Mississippi, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Ewing, Hale, Hunter, Mason, +Morton, Seward, Soul, Turney, Underwood, Upham, Walker, and Yulee--20. + +Thus was completed the action of the Senate on the second of the great +questions which have enlisted so much of public attention during the +past few months.--On the 14th the bill providing a territorial +government for New Mexico was taken up. Mr. CHASE moved to amend it by +inserting a clause prohibiting the existence of slavery within its +limits, which was rejected, ayes 20, nays 25. The bill was then ordered +to be engrossed for a third reading, which it had, and was finally +passed. + +In the House of Representatives, no business of importance has been +transacted. The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation Bill has been +discussed, and efforts have been made to change the existing rules of +the House so as to facilitate public business; but nothing important has +been done.--On the 6th of August President FILLMORE sent to the House a +Message, transmitting a letter he had received from Governor BELL, of +Texas, announcing that he had sent a commissioner to extend the laws of +Texas over that part of New Mexico which she claims, and that he had +been resisted by the inhabitants and the United States military +authorities. The President says in his Message that he deems it his duty +to execute the laws of the United States, and that Congress has given +him full power to put down any resistance that may be organized against +them. Texas as a state has no authority or power beyond her own limits; +and if she attempts to prevent the execution of any law of the United +States, in any state or territory beyond her jurisdiction, the President +is bound by his oath to resist such attempts by all the power which the +Constitution has placed at his command. The question is then considered +whether there is any law in New Mexico, resistance to which would call +for the interposition of the Executive authority. The President regards +New Mexico as a territory of the United States, with the same boundaries +which it had before the war with Mexico, and while in possession of that +country. By the treaty of peace the boundary line between the two +countries is defined, and perfect security and protection in the free +enjoyment of their liberty and property, and in the free exercise of +their religion, is guaranteed to those Mexicans who may choose to reside +on the American side of that line. This treaty is part of the law of the +land, and as such must be maintained until superseded or displaced by +other legal provisions; and if it be obstructed, the case is regarded as +one which comes within the provisions of law, and which obliges the +President to enforce these provisions. "Neither the Constitution or the +laws," says Mr. FILLMORE, "nor my duty or my oath of office, leave me +any alternative, or any choice, in my mode of action." The Executive has +no power or authority to determine the true line of boundary, but it is +his duty, in maintaining the laws, to have regard to the actual state of +things as it existed at the date of the treaty--all must be now regarded +as New Mexico which was possessed and occupied as New Mexico by citizens +of Mexico at the date of the treaty, until a definite line of boundary +shall be established by competent authority. Having thus indicated the +course which he should pursue, the President expresses his earnest +desire that the question of boundary should be settled by Congress, with +the assent of the government of Texas. He deprecates delay, and objects +to the appointment of commissioners. He expresses the opinion that an +indemnity may very properly be offered to Texas, and says that no event +would be hailed with more satisfaction by the people than the amicable +adjustment of questions of difficulty which have now for a long time +agitated the country, and occupied, to the exclusion of other subjects, +the time and attention of Congress. Accompanying the Message was a +letter from Mr. WEBSTER, Secretary of State, in reply to that of +Governor BELL. Mr. WEBSTER vindicates the action of the military +authorities in New Mexico, saying that they had been instructed to aid +and advance any attempt of the inhabitants to form a state government, +and that in all they did they acted as agents of the inhabitants rather +than officers of the government. An outline is given of the history of +the acquisition of New Mexico, and it is clearly shown that every thing +thus far has been done in strict accordance with the stipulations of the +treaty, and with the position and principles of the late President Polk. +The military government existed in New Mexico as a matter of necessity, +and must remain until superseded by some other form. The President +approves entirely of the measures taken by Colonel Munroe, while he +takes no part, and expresses no opinion touching the boundary claimed by +Texas. These documents were ordered to be printed and were referred to +committees. + +Mr. PEARCE of Maryland, and Mr. BATES of Missouri, who were invited by +President FILLMORE to become members of his cabinet, both declined. Hon. +T. M. T. MCKENNAN of Pennsylvania, has been appointed Secretary of the +Interior, and Hon. CHAS. M. CONRAD of Louisiana, Secretary of War, in +their places. Both have accepted.--It is stated that Hon. D. D. BARNARD +of New-York, has been nominated as Minister to Prussia. Mr. B. is one of +the ablest writers and most accomplished scholars in the country.--A +regular line of stages has just been established to run monthly between +Independence, Missouri, and Santa-F, in New Mexico. Each coach is to +carry eight persons, and to be made water tight, so as to be used as a +boat in crossing streams. This will prove to be an important step toward +the settlement of the great western region of our Union.--An active +canvass has been going on in Virginia for the election of members of a +convention to revise the state constitution. The questions at issue grow +mainly out of a contest between the eastern and western sections of the +state for supremacy. The west has been gaining upon the east in +population very rapidly during the last fifteen or twenty years. The +east claims a representation based upon property, by which it hopes to +maintain its supremacy, while the west insists that population alone +should be made the basis of political representation. The contest is +carried on with a great deal of warmth and earnestness.--Elections of +considerable interest have taken place during the month in several of +the states. In Missouri, where five members of Congress were chosen, +three of them, Messrs. PORTER, DARBY, and MILLER, are known to be Whigs. +In the other two districts the result has not been ascertained. The +change which this result indicates, is attributed to the course taken by +Senator BENTON, in refusing to obey the instructions of the state +legislature, and in denouncing them as connected with the scheme of +disunion, which he charged upon certain southern politicians. This led +to a division in his own party, which enabled the Whigs to elect a part, +at least, of the Congressional delegation.--In North Carolina an +election for governor, has resulted in the choice of Col. REID, +Democrat, by 3000 majority. In the state senate the Democrats have four, +and in the house they have 10 majority. This enables them to choose a +democratic U.S. Senator in place of Mr. MANGUM, the present Whig +incumbent.--In Indiana the election has given the Democrats control of +the legislature and of the state convention for the revision of the +constitution.--The authorities of Buffalo some weeks since, hearing that +Lord Elgin, Governor of Canada, was about to visit their city, prepared +for him a public reception. Circumstances prevented the fulfillment of +the purpose, but the courtesy of the people of Buffalo was communicated +by Lord Elgin to his government at home, and acknowledged by Earl Grey +in a letter to our Department of State. In further acknowledgement the +Legislature of Canada, and the Corporation of Toronto, invited the +authorities of Buffalo to pay them a visit, which was done on the 8th of +August, when they were welcomed by a very brilliant reception. This +interchange of courtesies is peculiarly creditable to both parties, and +highly gratifying to both countries.--The Legislature of Wisconsin has +enacted a law making it a penal offence for any owner or lessee of land +to allow the Canada thistle to go to seed upon it.--The Board of +Visitors appointed by the Government to attend the annual examination at +West Point, have made their report, giving a detailed account of their +observations, and concluding by expressing the opinion, that the +Military Academy is one of the most useful and highly creditable in our +country; that it has been mainly instrumental in forming the high +character which our army now sustains before the civilized world, and +that it is entitled to the confidence and fostering care of the +Government.--Hon. HENRY CLAY has been spending the August weeks at +Newport, R.I. He has received essential benefit from the sea-bathing and +the relief from public care which his temporary residence there +affords.--Commodore JACOB JONES, of the United States Navy, died at his +residence in Philadelphia, on the 3d ult. He was in the 83d year of his +age, and stood nearly at the head of the list of post captains, +Commodores BARRON and STEWART only preceding him. He was a native of +Delaware, and one of the number who, in the war of 1812, contributed to +establish the naval renown of our country. For the gallant manner in +which, while in command of the brig Wasp, he captured the British brig +Frolic, of superior force, he was voted a sword by each of the States of +Delaware, Massachusetts, and New-York. He was, until recently, the +Governor of the Naval Asylum, near Philadelphia.--The city authorities +of Boston, acting under the advice of the Consulting Physicians, have +decided to abandon all quarantine regulations, as neither useful nor +effectual in preventing the introduction of epidemic +diseases.--Professor FORSHEY, in an essay just published, proves by the +result of observations kept up through a great number of years, that the +channel of the Mississippi river is _deepening_, and consequently the +levee system will not necessarily elevate the bed of the river, as has +been feared. On the contrary, he thinks confining the river within a +narrow channel will give it additional velocity, ant serve to scrape out +the bottom; while opening artificial outlets, by diminishing the +current, will cause the rapid deposition of sediment, and thus produce +evil to be guarded against.--A project has been broached for completing +the line of railroads from Boston to Halifax, and then to have the +Atlantic steamers run between that port and Galway, the most westerly +port of Ireland. In this way it is thought that the passage from +Liverpool to New York may be considerably shortened. + +In SCIENTIFIC matters some interesting and important experiments have +been made by Prof. PAGE of the Smithsonian Institute, on the subject of +Electro-Magnetism as a motive power, the results of which have recently +been announced by him in public lectures. He states that there can be no +further doubt as to the application of this power as a substitute for +steam. He exhibited experiments in which a bar of iron weighing one +hundred and sixty pounds was made to spring up ten inches through the +air, and says that he can as readily move a bar weighing a hundred tons +through a space of a hundred feet. He expects to be able to apply it to +forge hammers, pile drivers, &c, and to engines with a stroke of six, +ten, or twenty feet. He exhibited also an engine of between four and +five horse power, worked by a battery contained in a space of three +cubic feet. It was a reciprocating engine of two feet stroke, the engine +and battery weighing about one ton, and driving a circular saw ten +inches in diameter, sawing boards an inch and a quarter thick, making +eighty strokes a minute. The professor says that the cost of the power +is less than steam under most conditions, though not so low as the +cheapest steam engines. The consumption of three pounds of zinc per day +produces one horse power. The larger his engines the greater the +economy. Some practical difficulties remain to be overcome in the +application of the power to practical purposes on a larger scale: but +little doubt seems to be entertained that such an application is +feasible. The result is one of very great importance to science, as well +as to the arts of practical life.--We made a statement in our July +number of the pretensions of Mr. Henry M. Paine, of Worcester, Mass., to +having discovered a new method of procuring hydrogen from water, and +rendering it capable of giving a brilliant light, with great case and at +a barely nominal expense, by passing it through cold spirits of +turpentine. His claims have been very generally discredited, and were +supposed to have been completely exploded by the examinations of several +scientific gentlemen of Boston and New York. Mr. GEORGE MATHIOT, an +electro-metallurgist attached to the United States Coast Survey, and a +gentleman of scientific habits and attainments, has published in the +Scientific American, a statement that he has succeeded in a kindred +attempt. He produced a very brilliant light, nearly equal to the +Drummond, by passing hydrogen through turpentine: and in thus passing +the gas from thirty-three ounces of zinc through it, the quantity of +turpentine was not perceptibly diminished. "In this case," he says, "the +hydrogen could not have been changed into carburetted hydrogen, for coal +gas contains from four to five times as much carbon as hydrogen, and +pure carburetted hydrogen has six times as much carbon as hydrogen; and, +as 33 ounces of zinc, by solution, liberate one ounce, or twelve cubic +feet of hydrogen, therefore, from four to six ounces of turpentine +should have been used up, supposing it to be all carbon; but turpentine +is composed of twenty atoms of carbon to fifteen atoms of hydrogen, and, +consequently, only one-seventh of its carbon can be taken up by the +hydrogen; or, in other words, forty-two ounces of turpentine will be +required to carburet one ounce of hydrogen." He tried the experiment +afterward, placing the whole apparatus in a cold bath to prevent +evaporation, and again by heating the turpentine to 120 degrees--but in +both cases with the same result. He used the same turpentine and had a +brilliant light for nearly three hours, and yet the quantity was not +perceptibly diminished. Mr. Mathiot claims that his experiments prove +conclusively that hydrogen can be used for illumination, but at what +comparative rate of expense he does not state.--The American Scientific +Association commenced its annual session at New Haven on the 19th of +August. This is an association formed for the advancement of science and +embraces within its members nearly all the leading scientific men of the +United States. Prof. BACHE presides. The proceedings of these +conventions, made up of papers on scientific subjects read by +distinguished gentlemen, are published in a volume, and form a valuable +contribution to American scientific literature.--Intelligence has been +received, by way of England, and also, direct, from two of the American +vessels sent out in search of Sir John Franklin. The brig _Advance_ +arrived at Whalefish Island, on the West Coast of Greenland, on the 24th +of June, and the _Rescue_ arrived two days after. Two of the British +steamers and two of the ships had also arrived. All on board were well, +and in good spirits for prosecuting the expedition. Enormous icebergs +were, seen by the American vessels on the voyage, some of them rising +150 or 200 feet above the water. A letter from an officer of the +_Rescue_ says they expected to go to a place called Uppermarik, about +two hundred miles from Whalefish Island, thence to Melville Bay, and +across Lancaster Sound to Cape Walker, and from that point they would +try to go to Melville Island and as much farther as possible. They +intended to winter at Melville Island, but that would depend upon +circumstances. + + * * * * * + +The LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month presents no feature of special +interest. The first volume of a series of Reminiscences of Congress, +made up mainly of a biography of DANIEL WEBSTER, has just been issued +from the press of Messrs. Baker and Scribner. It is by CHARLES W. MARCH, +Esq., a young man of fine talents, and of unusual advantages for the +preparation of such a work. His style is eminently graphic and +classical, and the book is one which merits attention.--The same +publishers will also publish a volume of sketches by IK. MARVEL, the +well-known pseudonym of Mr. D. G. MITCHELL, whose "Fresh Gleanings," and +"Battle Summer," have already made him very favorably known to the +literary community.--Prof. TORREY, of the University of Vermont, has +prepared for the press the fourth volume of his translation of NEANDER'S +Church History, which will be issued soon. It is understood that, at the +time of his death, the great German scholar was engaged upon the fifth +volume of his history, which is therefore left unfinished.--The +Appletons announce a Life of JOHN RANDOLPH, by Hon. A. H. GARLAND, which +can not fail to be an attractive and interesting work. They are also to +publish the magnificently-illustrated book on the war between the United +States and Mexico, upon which GEO. W. KENDALL has been engaged for a +year or two., It is to embrace splendid pictorial drawings of all the +principal conflicts, taken on the spot, by Carl Nebel, a German artist +of distinction, with a description of each battle by Mr. KENDALL. It +will be issued in one volume, folio, beautifully colored. + + * * * * * + +The past month has been distinguished by the annual commencements of the +academic year in most of the colleges of the country. At these +anniversary occasions, the candidates for honors make public exhibition +of their ability; the literary societies attached to the colleges hold +their celebrations: and addresses and poems are delivered by literary +gentlemen previously invited to perform that duty. The number of +colleges in the country, and the fact that the most distinguished +scholars in the country are generally selected for the office, gives to +these occasions a peculiar and decided interest; and the addresses then +and thus pronounced, being published, form no inconsiderable or unworthy +portion of the literature of the age. The commencement at Yale College +was celebrated at New Haven, on the 15th ult. The recurrence of the +third semi-centennial anniversary of the foundation of the college, in +1700, led to additional exercises of great interest, under the +supervision of the alumni of the college, of whom over 3000 are still +living, and about 1000 of whom were present. President WOOLSEY delivered +a very interesting historical discourse, sketching the origin, progress, +and results of the institution, and claiming for it a steady and +successful effort to meet the requirements of the country and the age. +The discourse, when published, will form a valuable contribution to the +historical literature of the country. The alumni, at their dinner, which +followed the address, listened to some eloquent and interesting speeches +from ex-President DAY and Prof. SILLIMAN, touching the history of Yale +College; from Prof. FELTON, concerning Harvard; from LEONARD BACON, +D.D., in reference to the clergy educated at Yale; from EDWARD BATES, of +Missouri, concerning the West and the Union; from Prof. BROWN, of +Dartmouth; from DANIEL LORD, of New York, upon the Bench and the Bar; +and from Dr. STEVENS, upon the Medical Profession, as connected with +Yale College; and from other gentlemen of distinction and ability, upon +various topics. JOHN W. ANDREWS, Esq., of Columbus, O., delivered the +oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society; his subject was the Progress +of the World during the last half century. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, of +Cambridge, delivered the poem, which was one of his most admirable +productions--a blending of the most exquisite descriptive and +sentimental poetry with the finest humor, the keenest wit, and the most +effective sarcasm. PIERPONT, the well-known poet, also read an admirable +satirical and humorous poem at the dinner: The number of graduates at +Yale this year was seventy-eight.--The commencement of the University of +Vermont occurred on the 7th. Rev. HENRY WILKES, of Montreal, delivered +an address before the Society for Religious Inquiry, upon the Relations +of the Age to Theology. H. J. RAYMOND, of New-York, addressed the +Associate Alumni on the Duties of American Scholars, with special +reference to certain aspects of American Society; and Rev. Mr. WASHBURN, +of Newburyport, Mass., delivered an address before the Literary +Societies, on the Developments and Influences of the Spiritual +Philosophy The number of graduates was fifteen--considerably less than +usual.--Union College at Schenectady, N.Y., celebrated its commencement +on the 24th of July. Rev. Dr. S. H. Cox, of Brooklyn, delivered the +address. The number of graduates was eighty.--At Dartmouth, commencement +occurred on the 25th of July. Rev. Dr. SPRAGUE, of Albany, addressed the +alumni on the Perpetuity of Literary Influence; DAVID PAUL BROWN, Esq., +of Philadelphia, the Literary Societies, on Character, its Force and +Results; and Rev. ALBERT BARNES, of the same city, addressed the +Theological Society on the Theology of the Unknown. The number of +graduates was forty-six.--On the 24th of July, the regular +commencement-day, Hon. THEO. FRELINGHUYSEN was inaugurated as President +of Rutgers College, N.J. His address was one of great ability and +eloquence, enforcing the importance of academic education to the age and +the country. The number of graduates was twenty-four.--Amherst College +celebrated its commencement on the 8th The number of graduates was +twenty-four Rev. Dr. Cox addressed the Society of Inquiry on the +importance of having history studied as a science in our colleges. A. B. +STREET, Esq., of Albany, delivered a poem, and Mr. E. P. WHIPPLE, of +Boston, an admirable and eloquent oration on the characteristics and +tendencies of American genius. He repeated the oration at the Wesleyan +University, at Middletown, Conn.; where a brilliant oration by Prof. D. +D. WHEDON, and a poem by Mr. W. H. C. HOSMER, were delivered before the +Phi Beta Kappa Society. An able and learned address was delivered before +the Alumni by Rev. J. CUMMINGS. The number of graduates was +nineteen.--Some important changes are to be made in the organization of +Brown University, in accordance with the principles and views recently +set forth by President WAYLAND, in a published pamphlet. Greater +prominence is to be given to the study of the natural sciences as +applied to the arts of practical life, and the study of the ancient +languages is to be made optional with students. The sum of $108,000 has +been raised by subscriptions in aid of the institution. Rev. ASAHEL +KENDRICK, of Madison University, has been elected Professor of Greek; +WILLIAM A. NORTON, of Delaware College, Professor of Natural Philosophy +and Civil Engineering; and JOHN A. PORTER, of the Lawrence Scientific +School, Professor of Chemistry applied to the Arts.--Rev. Dr. Tefft, of +Cincinnati, has been elected President of the Genesee College just +established at Lima, N.Y. The sum of $100,000 has been raised for its +support. + + * * * * * + +From CALIFORNIA our intelligence is to the 15th of July, received by the +Philadelphia steamer, which brought gold to the value of over a million +of dollars. The accounts from the gold mines are unusually good. The +high water at most of the old mines prevented active operations; but +many new deposits had been discovered, especially upon the head waters +of Feather river, and between that and Sacramento river. Gold has also +been discovered at the upper end of Carson river valley, near and at the +eastern base of the Sierra Nevada. A lump of quartz mixed with gold, +weighing thirty pounds, and containing twenty-three pounds of pure gold, +has been found between the North and Middle Forks of the Yuba river. At +Nevada and the Gold Run, where the deposits were supposed to have been +exhausted, further explorations have shown it in very great abundance, +at a depth, sometimes, of forty feet below the surface. The hills and +ravines in the neighborhood are said to be very rich in gold.--A very +alarming state of things exists in the southern mines, owing, in a great +degree, to the disaffection created by the tax levied upon foreign +miners. Murders and other crimes of the most outrageous character are of +constant occurrence, and in the immediate vicinity of Sonora, it is +stated that more than twenty murders had been committed within a +fortnight. Guerrilla parties, composed mainly of Mexican robbers, were +in the mountains, creating great alarm, and rendering life and property +in their vicinity wholly insecure. Fresh Indian troubles had also broken +out on the Tuolumne: three Americans had been shot.--The Odd Fellows +have erected a grand edifice at San Francisco for the accommodation of +their order.--The Fourth of July was celebrated with great enthusiasm +throughout California.--It is stated that a line of steamers is to be +run from San Francisco direct to Canton. Whether the enterprise be +undertaken at once or not, it cannot, in the natural course of events, +be delayed many years. The settlement of California will lead, directly +or indirectly, to a constant commercial intercourse with China, and will +exert a more decided influence upon the trade and civilization of +eastern Asia, than any other event of the present century. California +can not long continue dependent upon the Atlantic coast, still less +upon the countries of Europe, for the teas, silks, spices, &c, which her +population will require. She is ten thousand miles nearer to their +native soil than either England, France, or the United States, and will, +of course, procure them for herself rather than through their agency. + +From OREGON we have intelligence to the first of July. Governor LANE has +resigned his post as governor of the territory, and was about starting +on a gold-hunting expedition. It is said that one of the richest gold +mines on the Pacific coast has been discovered in the Spokan country, +some 400 miles above Astoria, on the Columbia river. Parties were on +their way to examine it. Extensive discoveries of gold, we may say here, +are reported to have been made in Venezuela, on a branch of the river +Orinoco. The papers of that country are full of exultation over this +discovery, from which they anticipate means to pay the English debt +within a single year. + + * * * * * + +From MEXICO our dates are to the 16th of July. The ravages of the +Indians in the Northern districts still continue. In Chihuahua they have +become so extensive that a body of three hundred men was to be sent to +suppress them. The State of Durango has also been almost overrun by +them. In Sonora several severe conflicts have taken place in which the +troops were victorious. The cholera has almost ceased. + + * * * * * + +In ENGLAND, no event has excited more interest than the claim of his +seat in the House of Commons by Baron ROTHSCHILD. At his request, a +meeting of the electors of the city of London was held July 25th, to +confer on the course proper to be pursued. The meeting concluded by +resolving that Baron R. ought to claim his seat, which he accordingly +did on the 26th of July. He asked to be sworn on the Old Testament, +against which Sir Robert Inglis protested. The question was debated for +several days, and was finally postponed until the next session.--The +proceedings of PARLIAMENT, during the month, have not been of special +interest. The House of Commons passed the resolutions approving of the +foreign policy of the ministry, and especially its conduct in regard to +the claims on the government of Greece, by a vote of ayes 310, nays 264, +showing a ministerial majority of 46. The selection of a site for the +great Industrial Exhibition of next year has elicited a good deal of +discussion. Hyde Park has been fixed upon as the site against the very +earnest remonstrances of many who live in its vicinity; and the building +committee have accepted an offer made by Mr. Paxton, to erect a building +chiefly of iron and glass. It is to be of wood-work to the height of +eighteen feet, and arrangements have been made to provide complete +ventilation, and to secure a moderate temperature. It is to be made in +Birmingham, and the entire cost is stated at about a million of +dollars. There will be on the ground-floor alone seven miles of tables. +There will be 1,200,000 square feet of glass, 24 miles of one +description of gutter, and 218 miles of "sash-bar;" and in the +construction 4500 tons of iron will be expended. The wooden floor will +be arranged with "divisions," so as to allow the dust to fall +through.--An attempt was made to secure a vote in the House of Commons +in favor of repealing the malt-tax, on the ground that it pressed too +heavily upon the agricultural interest; but it failed, 247 voting +against it and 123 in its favor.--An effort was made to extend still +further the principles of the reform bill, by making the franchise of +counties in England and Wales the same as it is in boroughs, giving the +right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of +10. The motion was warmly advocated by several members, but opposed by +Lord John Russel, partly on the ground that it was brought forward at a +wrong time, and partly because he thought the changes contemplated +inconsistent with the maintenance of the monarchy, the House of Lords, +and the House of Commons, which were fundamental parts of the British +Constitution. The motion was lost by 159 to 100.--A motion to inquire +into the working of the existing regulation concerning Sunday labor in +the Post-offices was carried 195 to 112.--A motion made by Lord John +Russell to erect a monument in Westminster Abbey, to the memory of Sir +Robert Peel was carried by acclamation.--The sum of 12,000 per annum +was voted to the present Duke of Cambridge, and 3000 to the Princess +Mary of Cambridge--being grandchildren of the late King George III.--not +without strenuous opposition from members, who thought the sums +unnecessarily large. + +A petition was recently presented in the House of Lords, purporting to +be signed by 18,000 rate payers, against the bill for the Liverpool +Corporation Water-works. In consequence of suspicions that were +entertained, the document was referred to a select committee and it was +found on investigation that many of the names had been affixed by +clerks, and the paper then wet to make it appear that it had been +carried round from place to place in the rain. Evidence was taken +showing that this had been a very common practice of agents employed by +the parties interested to get up signatures to petitions. The Committee +in the House of Lords had expressed themselves very strongly as to the +necessity of some law for preventing such abuses in future.--The +criminal tables for the year 1849 have been laid before Parliament. Of +the persons committed for trial during the year, 6786 were acquitted, +and 21,001 convicted. Of these convicted one in 318 was sentenced to +death, and one in 8 to transportation. There has been no execution since +1841 except for murder: of 19 persons convicted during the past year of +this offense 15 were executed, _five_ of whom were females.--The Royal +Agricultural Society held its annual meeting July 18th at Exeter. Mr. +LAWRENCE the American Minister at London, and Mr. RIVES the Minister at +Paris were both present and made eloquent speeches, upon the +agricultural state of England.--The boiler of the steamer Red Rover at +Bristol exploded July 22d, killing six persons and severely injuring +many others.--An explosion took place in the coal-pits belonging to Mr. +Sneden, near Airdrie on the 23d, by which _nineteen_ persons were +instantly killed. Only one man in the mine escaped; he saved his life by +throwing himself upon the ground the moment he heard the explosion. The +men were not provided with Davy safety-lamps.--At a meeting of the Royal +Humane Society a new invention of Lieutenant Halkett, of the Navy, was +introduced. It is a boat-cloak which may be worn, like a common cloak on +the shoulders, and may be inflated in three or four minutes by a bellows +and will then sustain six or eight persons--forming a kind of boat which +it is almost impossible to overturn. A trial was to be made of its +efficacy.--Sir Thomas Wilde has been made Lord Chancellor and raised to +the peerage by the title of Baron Truro of Bowes, in the County of +Middlesex.--Sir Robert Peel, Bart., has been returned to Parliament for +the borough of Tamworth made vacant by the death of his father. It is +stated that Sir Robert's last injunction was that his children should +not receive titles or pensions for any supposed services their father +might have rendered. This is in keeping with the severe simplicity of +his character and negatives conclusively the representations of those +who have charged his advocacy of measures designed to aid the poor, to +interested motives of selfish or family ambition. A subscription has +been set on foot for a testimonial to his memory to be called "the +Working-man's Monument." + + * * * * * + +The foreign LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month is unusually meagre. The +only work of great interest that has been published is WORDSWORTH'S +posthumous Poem, _The Prelude_, of which a somewhat extended notice will +be found on a preceding page. It has already been republished in this +country, where it will find a wide circle of sympathizing readers. The +Household Narrative, in summing up the literary news, says that another +note-worthy poem of the month, also a posthumous publication though +written some years ago, is a dramatic piece attributed to Mr. Beddoes, +and partaking largely of his well-known eccentricity and genius, called +_Death's Jest-Book or the Fool's Tragedy_. A republication of Mr. +Cottle's twenty-four books of _Alfred_, though the old pleasant butt and +"jest-book" of his ancient friend Charles Lamb, is said hardly to +deserve even so many words of mention. Nor is there much novelty in _A +Selection from the Poems and Dramatic Works of Theodore Korner_, though +the translation is a new one, and by the clever translator of the +_Nibelungen_. To this brief catalogue of works of fancy is added the +mention of two somewhat clever tales in one volume, with the title of +_Hearts in Mortmain_ and _Cornelia_, intended to illustrate the working +of particular phases of mental emotion; and another by Mrs. Trollope, +called _Petticoat Government_.----In the department of history there is +nothing more important than a somewhat small volume with the very large +title of the _Correspondence of the Emperor Charles V. and his +Embassadors at the Courts of England and France_; which turns out to be +a limited selection from letters existing in the archives at Vienna, but +not uninteresting to English readers, from the fact of their incidental +illustrations of the history of Henry VIII., and the close of Wolsey's +career. Two books of less pretension have contributed new facts to the +history of the late civil war in Hungary; the first from the Austrian +point of view by an _Eye-witness_, and the second from the Hungarian by +_Max Schlesinger_. Mr. Baillie Cochrane has also contributed his mite to +the elucidation of recent revolutions in a volume called _Young Italy_, +which is chiefly remarkable for its praise of Lord Brougham, its defense +of the Pope, its exaggerated scene-painting of the murder of Rossi, its +abuse of the Roman Republic, and its devotion of half a line to the +mention of Mazzini. + +Better worthy of brief record are the few miscellaneous publications, +which comprise an excellent new translation of _Rochefoucauld's Maxims_, +with a better account of the author, and more intelligent notes, than +exist in any previous edition; most curious and interesting _Memorials +of the Empire of Japan in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries_, +which Mr. Rundell of the East India House has issued under the +superintendence of the Hakluyt Society, and which illustrate English +relations with those Japanese; an intelligent and striking summary of +the _Antiquities of Richborough, Reculver, and Lynne_, written by Mr. +Roach Smith and illustrated by Mr. Fairholt, which exhibits the results +of recent discoveries of many remarkable Roman antiquities in Kent; and +a brief, unassuming narrative of the Hudson's Bay Company's _Expedition +to the Shores of the Arctic Sea in 1846 and 1847_, by the commander of +the expedition, Mr. John Rae. + +Ballooning in France and England seems to have become a temporary mania. +The ascent of Messrs. Barral and Bixio, of which a detailed and very +interesting account will be found in a preceding page, has encouraged +imitators in various styles. One M. Poitevin made an ascent in Paris +seated on a horse, which was attached to the balloon in place of the +car. The London _Athenum_ invokes the aid of the police to prevent such +needless cruelty to animals, and to exercise proper supervision over the +madmen who undertake such fool-hardy feats.----A plaster mask said to +have been taken from the face of Shakspeare, and bearing the date 1616 +on its back, has been brought to London from Mayence, which is said to +have been procured from an ecclesiastical personage of high rank at +Cologne. It excites considerable attention among virtuosos.----The +English, undeterred by the indignation which has been poured out upon +Lord Elgin by BYRON and others for rifling Athens of its antiquities for +display at home, are practicing the same desecration in regard to the +treasures discovered in Nineveh by Mr. Layard. It is announced that the +Great Bull and upwards of 100 tons of sculpture excavated by him, may be +expected in England in September for the British Museum. The French +Government are also making extensive collections of Assyrian works of +art.----Among those who perished by the loss of the British steamer +_Orion_ was Dr. JOHN BURNS, Professor of Surgery in the University of +Glasgow, and a man of considerable eminence in his profession. He was +the author of several works upon various medical subjects and had also +written upon literary and theological topics. Dr. GRAY, Professor of +Oriental languages in the same university has also deceased within the +month.----A new filtering apparatus, intended to render sea-water +drinkable, has recently been brought to the notice of the Paris +Academy.----A letter in the London _Athenum_ from the Nile complains +bitterly of the constant devastation of the remains of ancient temples, +&c., caused by the rapacious economy of the government. The writer +states that immense sculptured and painted blocks have been taken from +the temple of Karnac, for the construction of a sugar factory; a fine +ancient tomb has also entirely disappeared under this process. Very +earnest complaints are also made of the Prussian traveler Dr. Lepsius, +for carrying away relies of antiquity, and for destroying others. The +writer urges that if this process is continued Egypt will lose far more +by the cessation of English travel than she can gain in the value of +material used.----Rev. W. KIRBY, distinguished as one of the first +entomologists of the age, died at his residence in Suffolk, July 4th, at +the advanced age of 91. He has left behind him several works of great +ability and reputation on his favorite science.----It is stated that the +late Sir Robert Peel left his papers to Lord Mahon and Mr. Edward +Cardwell M.P.----Among the deaths of the month we find that of an +amiable man and accomplished writer, Mr. B. Simmons, whose name will be +recollected as that of a frequent contributor of lyrical poems of a high +order to _Blackwood's Magazine_, and to several of the Annuals. Mr. +Simmons, who held a situation in the Excise office, died July +19th.----GUIZOT, the eminent historian, on the marriage of his two +daughters recently to descendants of the illustrious Hollander De WITT, +was unable to give them any thing as marriage portions. Notwithstanding +the eminent positions he has filled for so much of his life--positions +which most men would have made the means of acquiring enormous wealth, +GUIZOT is still poor. This fact alone furnishes at once evidence and +illustration of his sterling integrity.----A new History of Spain, by +ST. HILAIRE, is in course of publication in Paris. He has been engaged +upon it for a number of years, and it is said to be a work of great +ability and learning.----LEVERRIER, the French astronomer, has published +a strong appeal in favor of throwing the electric telegraph open to the +public in France, as it has been in the United States. At present it is +guarded by the government as a close monopoly. His paper contains a good +deal of interesting matter in regard to this greatest of modern +inventions.----MEINHOLD, the author of the "Amber Witch," has lately +been fined and imprisoned for slandering a brother clergyman. This is +the second instance in which he has been convicted of this +offense.----M. GUIZOT has addressed a long letter to each of the five +classes of the Institute of France, to declare that he can not accept +the candidateship offered him for a seat in the Superior Council of +Public Instruction.----Sir EDWARD BULWER LYTTON is to be a candidate for +the House of Commons, with Colonel Sibthorpe, for Lincoln. He has a new +play forthcoming for the Princess's Theater.----Miss STRICKLAND has in +preparation a series of volumes on the Queens of Scotland, as a +companion to her interesting and successful work on the Queens of +England.----Sir FRANCIS KNOWLES has recently taken out a patent for +producing iron in an improved form. In blast-furnaces, as at present +constructed, the ore, the flux, and combustibles, are mixed together; +and the liberated gases of the fuel injure the quality of the iron, and +cause great waste, in the shape of slag. By the new process the ore is +to be kept separate from the sulphureous fuel in a compartment contrived +for the purpose, in the centre of the furnace, where it will be in +contact with peat only; and in this way the waste will be avoided, and a +quality of metal will be produced fully equal to the best Swedish. The +invention is likely to be one of considerable importance.----Professor +JOHNSTON, the distinguished English agriculturist, who visited this +country last year, and lectured in several of the principal cities, at a +late farmers' meeting in Berwickshire, gave a general account of the +state of agriculture in America, as it fell under his personal +observation. He represented it in the Northern States as about what it +was in Scotland eighty or ninety years ago. The land in all New England +he said had been exhausted by bad farming, and even in the Western +States the tendency of things was to the same result. He thought it +would not be long before America would be utterly unable to export wheat +to England in any large quantity. + + * * * * * + +Affairs in FRANCE are still unsettled. The Government goes steadily +forward in the enactment of laws restraining the Press, forbidding free +discussion among the people, diminishing popular rights and preparing +the way, by all the means in their power, for another revolution. The +most explicit provisions of the Constitution have been set aside and the +government of the Republic is really more despotic than was that of +Louis Philippe at any time during his reign. A warm debate occurred in +the Assembly on the bill for restricting the liberty of the press. It +commenced on the 8th of July and gave occasion to a violent scene. M. +Rouher, the Minister of Justice, spoke of the Revolution of February as +a "disastrous catastrophe," which elicited loud demands from the +opposition that he should be called to order. The President refused to +call him to order and M. Girardin threatened to resign saying, that he +would not sit in an assembly where such language was permitted. He did +not resign, however, but his friends contented themselves with handing +in a protest the next day which the President refused to receive. The +debate then proceeded and an amendment was passed, 313 to 281, declaring +that all leading articles in journals should be signed by the writers. +On the 15th an amendment was adopted that papers publishing a +_feuilleton_ should pay an additional tax of one centime beyond the +ordinary stamp duty. On the 16th the bill was finally passed by a vote +of 390 to 265. + + * * * * * + +From PORTUGAL we learn that Mr. CLAY, having failed to secure from the +Portuguese government a compliance with the demands he was instructed to +make, asked for his passports and withdrew. The difficulty engages the +attention of the Portuguese Minister at Washington, and the Department +of State, and it is supposed that it will be amicably settled. No +details of the negotiations in progress have been made public, but it is +understood that no doubt exists as to the result. + + * * * * * + +In GERMANY the event of the month which excites most interest in this +country, is the death of NEANDER. Our preceding pages contain a notice +of his life, writings, and character, which renders any further mention +here unnecessary.----At Berlin the Academy of Sciences has been holding +a sitting, according to its statutes, in honor of the memory of +Leibnitz. In the course of the oration delivered on the occasion it was +stated that, the 4th of August next being the 50th anniversary of the +admission of Alexander von Humboldt as a member of the Academy, it has +been resolved, in celebration of the event, to place a marble bust of +the "Nestor of Science" in the lecture-room of the Society. + + * * * * * + +From SPAIN there is nothing of importance. The Queen, Isabella, gave +birth to an heir, on the 13th of July, but it lived scarcely an hour, so +that the Duchess of Montpensier is still heir presumptive to the throne. +The Count of Montemolin has married a sister of the king of Naples, and +the Spanish minister, taking offense, has left that court. + + * * * * * + +From DENMARK there is intelligence of new hostilities. The +Schleswig-Holstein difficulty, which was supposed to have been settled, +has broken out afresh. The negotiations which had been in progress +between the five great powers, were broken off by Prussia, she declaring +that neither Austria nor Prussia could ever assent to considering the +provinces in question as parts of the Danish monarchy. The failure to +agree upon satisfactory terms, led both parties to prepare for renewed +hostilities, and a severe engagement took place on the 25th of July, +between the Danes and the Holsteiners, in which the latter were +defeated. The field of action was Idstedt, a small village on the +Flensburg road. The Danish army amounted to about 45,000 men, commanded +by General Von Krogh; the army of the Holsteiners to 28,000 only, +commanded at the centre by General Willisen, a Prussian volunteer; at +the right by Colonel Von der Horst, also a Prussian, and at the left by +Colonel Von der Taun, a Bavarian officer, of chivalrous courage and +great impetuosity. The battle commenced at three o'clock in the morning +with an attack of the Danes on both wings of the enemy. They were very +warmly received, and after the battle had lasted two or three hours, +they made an assault upon the centre, with infantry, cavalry, and +artillery at the same time. They were so strongly repulsed, however, +that they were compelled to retreat. An attack of their whole force, +concentrated upon the centre and right wing of the Holsteiners was more +successful, and by bringing up a reserve, after ten or twelve hours hard +fighting, they compelled the Holstein centre to give way, and by two +o'clock the army was in full retreat, but in good order. The Danes +appear to have been either too fatigued or too indolent to follow up +their advantage. The members of the Holstein government, who were in +Schleswig, fled immediately to Kiel, on hearing the battle was lost; all +the officials also left the town; the post-office was shut, the doors +locked, and all business suspended. The battle was more sanguinary than +that fought under the walls of Frederica on the 6th of July last year. +The loss on both sides has been estimated at about 7000 men in killed, +wounded, and missing--of which the Holstein party say the greater share +has fallen upon the Danes. Another engagement is said to have taken +place on the 1st of August near Mohede, in which the Danes were +defeated, with but slight loss on either side. The interference of the +great powers is anticipated. + + * * * * * + +From INDIA and the EAST there is little news of interest. A terrible +accident occurred at Benares on the 1st of May. A fleet of thirty boats, +containing ordnance stores, was destroyed by the explosion of 3000 +barrels of gunpowder with which they were freighted. Four hundred and +twenty persons were killed on the spot, about 800 more were wounded, and +a number of houses were leveled with the ground. The cause of the +disaster remained unexplained, as not a human being was left alive who +could tell the tale.----The city of Canton has been visited with a +severe fever which has been very destructive, though it had spared the +European factories.----The great Oriental diamond, seized by the British +as part of the spoils of the Sikh war, was presented to the Queen on the +3d of July, having arrived from India a few days before. It was +discovered in the mines of Golconda three hundred years ago, and first +belonged to the Mogul emperor, the father of the great Aurungzebee. Its +shape and size are like those of the pointed end of a hen's egg; and its +value is estimated at two millions of pounds sterling.----News has been +received of an insurrection against the Dutch government in the district +of Bantam. The insurgents attacked the town of Anjear, in the Straits of +Sunda, but, after burning the houses, were driven back to their +fastnesses by the military. + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + +IN MEMORIAM. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, and Fields. 12mo. pp. 216. + +The impressive beauty of these touching lyrics proceeds, in a great +degree, from the "sad sincerity" which so evidently inspired their +composition. In memory of a youthful friend, who was distinguished for +his rare early promise, his ripe and manifold accomplishments, and a +strange, magnetic affinity with the genius of the author, these +exquisite poems are the gushing expression of a heart touched and +softened, but not enervated by deep sorrow. The poet takes a pensive +delight in gathering up every memorial of the brother of his affections; +his fancy teems with all sweet and beautiful images to show the +tenderness of his grief; every object in external nature recalls the +lost treasure; until, after reveling in the luxury of woe, he regains a +serene tranquillity, with the lapse of many years. With the exquisite +pathos that pervades this volume, there is no indulgence in weak and +morbid sentiment. It is free from the preternatural gloom which so often +makes elegiac poetry an abomination to every healthy intellect. The +tearful bard does not allow himself to be drowned in sorrow, but draws +from its pure and bitter fountains the sources of noble inspiration and +earnest resolve. No one can read these natural records of a spirit, +wounded but not crushed, without fresh admiration of the rich poetical +resources, the firm, masculine intellect, and the unbounded wealth of +feeling, which have placed TENNYSON in such a lofty position among the +living poets of England. + + * * * * * + +Harper and Brothers have recently published _The History of Darius_, by +JACOB ABBOTT, _The English Language in its Elements and Forms_, by +WILLIAM C. FOWLER, _Julia Howard_, a Romance, by Mrs. MARTIN BELL, +_Five Years of a Hunter's Life in the Interior of South Africa_, by R. +G. CUMMING, _Health, Disease, and Remedy_, by GEORGE MOORE, and _Latter +Day Pamphlets_, No. viii., by THOMAS CARLYLE. + +_The History of Darius_ is one of Mr. ABBOTT'S popular historical +series, written in the style of easy and graceful idiomatic English +(though not always free from inaccuracies), which give a pleasant flavor +to all the productions of the author. In a neat preface, with which the +volume is introduced, Mr. Abbott explains the reasons for the mildness +and reserve with which he speaks of the errors, and often the crimes of +the persons whose history he describes. He justifies this course, both +on the ground of its intrinsic propriety, and of the authority of +Scripture, which, as he justly observes, relates the narratives of crime +"in a calm, simple, impartial, and forbearing spirit, which leads us to +condemn, the sins, but not to feel a pharisaical resentment and wrath +against the sinner." The present volume sets forth the leading facts in +the life of Darius the Great with remarkable clearness and condensation, +and can scarcely be too highly commended, both for the use of juvenile +readers, and of those who wish to become acquainted with the subject, +but who have not the leisure to pursue a more extended course of +historical study. + +Professor FOWLER'S work on the English Language is a profound treatise +on the Philosophy of Grammar, the fruit of laborious and patient +research for many years, and an addition of unmistakable value to our +abundant philological treasures. It treats of the English Language in +its elements and forms, giving a copious history of its origin and +development, and ascending to the original principles on which its +construction is founded. The work is divided into eight parts, each of +which presents a different aspect of the subject, yet all of them, in +their mutual correlation, and logical dependence, are intended to form a +complete and symmetrical system. We are acquainted with no work on this +subject which is better adapted for a text-book in collegiate +instruction, for which purpose it is especially designed by the author. +At the same time it will prove an invaluable aid to more advanced +students of the niceties of our language, and may even be of service to +the most practiced writers, by showing them the raw material, in its +primitive state, out of which they cunningly weave together their most +finished and beautiful fabrics. + +_Julia Howard_ is the reprint of an Irish story of exciting interest, +which, by its powerful delineation of passion, its bright daguerreotypes +of character, and the wild intensity of its plot, must become a favorite +with the lovers of high-wrought fiction. + +We have given a taste of CUMMING'S _Five Years of a Hunter's Life_ in +the last number of _The New Monthly Magazine_, from which it will be +seen that the writer is a fierce, blood-thirsty Nimrod, whose highest +ideal is found in the destruction of wild-beasts, and who relates his +adventures with the same eagerness of passion which led him to +expatriate himself from the charms of English society in the tangled +depths of the African forest. Every page is redolent of gunpowder, and +you almost hear the growl of the victim as he falls before the unerring +shot of this mighty hunter. + +Dr. MOORE'S book on _Health, Disease, and Remedy_ is a plain, practical, +common-sense treatise on hygiene, without confinement in the harness of +any of the modern _opathies_. His alert and cheerful spirit will prevent +the increase of hypochondria by the perusal of his volume, and his +directions are so clear and definite, that they can be easily +comprehended even by the most nervous invalid. Its purpose can not be +more happily described than in the words of the author. "It is neither a +popular compendium of physiology, hand-book of physic, an art of healing +made easy, a medical guide-book, a domestic medicine, a digest of odd +scraps on digestion, nor a dry reduction of a better book, but rather a +running comment on a few prominent truths in medical science, viewed +according to the writer's own experience. The object has been to assist +the unprofessional reader to form a sober estimate of Physic, and enable +him to second the physician's efforts to promote health." Dr. Moore's +habits of thought and expression are singularly direct, and he never +leaves you at a loss for his meaning. + +We can not say so much for CARLYLE, whose eighth number of _Latter-Day +Tracts_, on _Jesuitism_, brings that flaming and fantastic series to a +close, with little detriment, we presume, to the public. + +Phillips, Sampson, and Co. have published a critique on Carlyle, by +ELIZUR WRIGHT, the pungent editor of the Boston Chronotype, entitled +_Perforations of the "Latter-Day Pamphlets, by one of the Eighteen +Million Bores,"_ in which he makes some effective hits, reducing the +strongest positions of his opponent to impalpable powder. + +_The Odd Fellows' Offering for_ 1851, published by Edward Walker, is the +ninth volume of this beautiful annual, and is issued with the earliest +of its competitors for public favor. As a representative of the literary +character of the Order, it is highly creditable to the Institution. +Seven of the eleven illustrations are from original paintings by native +artists. The frontispiece, representing the Marriage of Washington, +appeals forcibly to the national sentiment, and is an appropriate +embellishment for a work dedicated to a large and increasing fraternity, +whose principles are in admirable harmony with those of our free +institutions. + +_Haw-Ho-Noo, or, Records of a Tourist_, by CHARLES LANMAN, published by +Lippincott, Grambo and Co., under an inappropriate title, presents many +lively and agreeable descriptions of adventures in various journeys in +different parts of the United States. The author has a keen sense of the +beauties of nature, is always at home in the forest or at the side of +the mountain stream, and tells all sorts of stories about trout, salmon, +beavers, maple-sugar, rattle-snakes, and barbecues, with a heart-felt +unction that is quite contagious. As a writer of simple narrative, his +imagination sometimes outstrips his discretion, but every one who reads +his book will admit that he is not often surpassed for the fresh and +racy character of his anecdotes. + +_The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt_, published by Harper and Brothers, as +our readers may judge from the specimens given in a former number of +this Magazine, is one of the most charming works that have lately been +issued from the English press. Leigh Hunt so easily falls into the +egotistic and ridiculous, that it is a matter of wonder how he has +escaped from them to so great a degree in the present volumes. His +vanity seems to have been essentially softened by the experience of +life, the asperities of his nature greatly worn away, and his mind +brought under the influence of a kindly and genial humor. With his rare +mental agility, his susceptibility to many-sided impressions, and his +catholic sympathy with almost every phase of character and intellect, he +could not fail to have treasured up a rich store of reminiscences, and +his personal connection with the most-celebrated literary men of his +day, gives them a spirit and flavor, which could not have been obtained +by the mere records of his individual biography. The work abounds with +piquant anecdotes of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, Byron, Keats, Lamb, +Hazlitt, and Moore--gives a detailed exposition of Hunt's connection +with the Examiner, and his imprisonment for libel--his residence in +Italy--his return to England--and his various literary projects--and +describes with the most childlike frankness the present state of his +opinions and feelings on the manifold questions which have given a +direction to his intellectual activity through life. Whatever +impressions it may leave as to the character of the author, there can be +but one opinion as to the fascination of his easy, sprightly, gossiping +style, and the interest which attaches to the literary circles, whose +folding-doors he not ungracefully throws open. + +The _United States Railroad Guide and Steam-boat Journal_, by Holbrook +and Company, is one of the best manuals for the use of travelers now +issued by the monthly press, containing a great variety of valuable +information, in a neat and portable form. + +_Hints to Young Men on the True Relation of the Sexes_, by JOHN WARE, +M.D., is a brief treatise, prepared by a distinguished scientific man of +Boston, in which an important subject is treated with delicacy, good +sense, and an earnest spirit. It is published by Tappan, Whittimore, and +Mason, Boston. + +Among the publications of the last month by Lippincott, Grambo, and +Company, is the _Iris_, an elegant illuminated souvenir, edited by +Professor JOHN S. HART, and comprising literary contributions from +distinguished American authors, several of whom, we notice, are from the +younger class of writers, who have already won a proud and enviable fame +by the admirable productions of their pens. In addition to the +well-written preface by the Editor, we observe original articles by +STODDARD, BOKER, CAROLINE MAY, ALICE CAREY, PHEBE CAREY, Rev. CHARLES T. +BROOKS, MARY SPENSER PEASE, EDITH MAY, ELIZA A. STARR, KATE CAMPBELL, +and others, most of which are superior specimens of the lighter form of +periodical literature. The volume is embellished with exquisite beauty, +containing four brilliantly illuminated pages, and eight line +engravings, executed in the highest style of London art. We are pleased +to welcome so beautiful a work from the spirited and intelligent house +by which it is issued, as a promise that it will sustain the well-earned +reputation of the old establishment of Grigg, Elliot, and Co., of which +it is the successor. The head of that firm, Mr. JOHN GRIGG, we may take +this occasion to remark, presents as striking a history as can be +furnished by the records of bookselling in this country. Commencing life +without the aid of any external facilities, and obtaining the highest +eminence in his profession, by a long career of industry, enterprise, +and ability, he has retired from active business with an ample fortune, +and the universal esteem of a large circle of friends. We trust that his +future years may be as happy, as his busy life has been exemplary and +prosperous. + +George P. Putnam has published _The Chronicle of the Conquest of +Granada_, by WASHINGTON IRVING, forming the fourteenth volume of the +beautiful revised edition of Irving's collected works. Since the first +publication of this romantic prose-poem, the fictitious dress, in which +the inventive fancy of the author had arrayed the story, had been made +the subject of somewhat stringent criticism; Fray Antonio Agapida had +been found to belong to a Spanish branch of the family of Diedrich +Knickerbocker; and doubts were thus cast over the credibility of the +whole veracious chronicle. Mr. Irving extricates himself from the +dilemma with his usual graceful ingenuity. In a characteristic note to +this edition, he explains the circumstances in which the history had its +origin, and shows conclusively that whatever dimness may be thrown over +the identity of the worthy Fray Antonio, the work itself was constructed +from authentic documents, and is faithful in all its essential points to +historical fact. While occupied at Madrid in writing the life of +Columbus, Mr. Irving was strongly impressed with the rich materials +presented by the war of Granada, for a composition which should blend +the interest of romance with the fidelity of history. Alive as he always +is to picturesque effect, he was struck with the contrast presented by +the combatants of Oriental and European creeds, costumes, and manners; +with the hairbrained enterprises, chivalric adventures, and wild forays +through mountain regions; and with the moss-trooping assaults on +cliff-built castles and cragged fortresses, which succeeded each other +with dazzling brilliancy and variety. Fortunately in the well-stored +libraries of Madrid, he had access to copious and authentic chronicles, +often in manuscript, written at the time by eye-witnesses, and in some +instances, by persons who had been actually engaged in the scenes +described. At a subsequent period, after completing the Life of +Columbus, he made an extensive tour in Andalusia, visiting the ruins of +the Moorish towns, fortresses, and castles, and the wild mountain +passes, which had been the principal theatre of the war, and passing +some time in the stately old palace of the Alhambra, the once favorite +abode of the Moorish monarchs. With this preparation, he finished the +manuscript of which he had already drawn up the general outline, +adopting the fiction of a Spanish monk as the chronicler of the history. +By this innocent stratagem, Mr. Irving intended to personify in Fray +Antonio the monkish zealots who made themselves busy in the campaigns, +marring the chivalry of the camp by the bigotry of the cloister, and +exulting in every act of intolerance toward the Moors. + +This ingenious explanation will give a fresh interest to the present +edition. The costume of the garrulous Agapida is still retained, +although the narrative is reduced more strictly within historical +bounds, and is enriched with new facts that have been recently brought +to light by the erudite researches of Alcntara and other diligent +explorers of this romantic field. With excellent taste, the publisher +has issued this volume in a style of typographical elegance not unworthy +the magnificent paragraphs of the golden-mouthed author. + +_The Life and Times of General John Lamb_, by ISAAC Q. LEAKE, published +at Albany by J. Munsell, is an important contribution to the history of +the Revolution, compiled from original documents, many of which possess +great interest. + +_Progress in the Northwest_ is the title of the Annual Discourse +delivered before the Historical Society of Ohio, by the President, +WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, and published by H. W. Derby and Co., Cincinnati. +It gives a rapid description of the progress of cultivation and +improvement in the Northwestern portion of the United States, showing +the giant steps which have been taken, especially, within the last +twenty years, on that broad and fertile domain. The conditions of future +advancement are also discussed in the spirit of philosophical analysis, +and with occasional touches of genuine eloquence. + +EDWARD EVERETT'S _Oration at the Celebration of the Battle of Bunker +Hill_, published by Redding and Co., Boston, describes some of the +leading incidents in that opening scene of the American Revolution, and +is distinguished for the rhetorical felicity, the picturesque beauty of +expression, and the patriotic enthusiasm which have given a wide +celebrity to the anniversary performances of the author. Its flowing +melody of style, combined with the impressive tones and graceful manner +of the speaker, enables us to imagine the effect which is said to have +been produced by its delivery. The ability exhibited in Mr. EVERETT'S +expressive and luminous narrative, if devoted to an elaborate +historical composition, would leave him with but few rivals in this +department of literature. + +_Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society_ of Harvard University, by +TIMOTHY WALKER, published by James Munroe and Co., Boston, is a +temperate discussion of the Reform Spirit of the day, abounding in +salutary cautions and judicious discriminations. The style of the +Oration savors more of the man of affairs than of the practical writer, +and its good sense and moderate tone must have commended it to the +cultivated audience before which it was delivered. + +_The Poem on the American Legend_, by BAYARD TAYLOR, pronounced on the +same occasion, and published by John Bartlett, Cambridge, is a graceful +portraiture of the elements of romance and poetry in the traditions of +our country, and contains passages of uncommon energy of versification, +expressing a high order of moral and patriotic sentiment. His allusion +to the special legends of different localities are very felicitous in +their tone, and the tribute to the character of the lamented President +is a fine instance of the condensation and forcible brevity which Mr. +Taylor commands with eminent success. + +A useful and seasonable work, entitled _Europe, Past and Present_, by +FRANCIS H. UNGEWITTER, LL.D., has been issued by G. P. Putnam, which +will be found to contain a mass of information, carefully arranged and +digested, of great service to the student of European Geography and +History. The author, who is a native German, has published several +extensive geographical works in his own country, which have given him +the reputation of a sound and accurate scholar in that department of +research. He appears to have made a faithful and discriminating use of +the abundant materials at his command, and has produced a work which can +not fail to do him credit in his adopted land. + +_The Architecture of Country Houses_, by A. J. DOWNING, published by D. +Appleton and Co., is from the pen of a writer whose former productions +entitle him to the rank of a standard authority on the attractive +subject of the present volume. Mr. Downing has certainly some uncommon +qualifications for the successful accomplishment of his task, which +requires no less practical experience and knowledge than a sound and +cultivated taste. He is familiar with the best publications of previous +authors; his pursuits, have led him to a thorough appreciation of the +wants and capabilities of country life; he has been trained by the +constant influence of rural scenes; and with an eye keenly susceptible +to the effect of proportion and form, he brings the refinements of true +culture and the suggestions of a vigilant common-sense to the +improvement of Rural Architecture, which he wishes to see in harmony +with the grand and beautiful scenery of this country. His remarks in the +commencement of the volume, with regard to the general significance of +architecture are worthy of profound attention. A due observance of the +principles, which he eloquently sets forth, would rescue the fine +localities for which nature has done so much from the monstrosities in +wood and brick with which they are so often deformed. His discussion of +the materials and modes of construction are of great practical value. +With the abundance of designs which he presents, for every style of +rural building, and the careful estimates of the expense, no one who +proposes to erect a house in the country can fail to derive great +advantage from consulting his well-written and interesting pages. + +Tallis, Willoughby, & Co. are publishing as serials the _Adventures of +Don Quixote_, translated by JARVIS, and the _Complete Works of +Shakspeare_, edited by JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL. The Don Quixote is a +cheap edition, embellished with wood cuts by Tony Johannot. The +Shakspeare is illustrated with steel engravings by Rogers, Heath, +Finden, and Walker, from designs by Henry Warren, Edward Corbould, and +other English artists who are favorably known to the public. It is +intended that this edition shall contain all the writings ascribed to +the immortal dramatist, without distinction, including not only the +Poems and well-authenticated Plays, but also the Plays of doubtful +origin, or of which Shakspeare is supposed to have been only in part the +author. + +Herrman J. Meyer, a German publisher in this city, is issuing an edition +of MEYER'S _Universum_, a splendid pictorial work, which is to appear in +monthly parts, each containing four engravings on steel, and twelve of +them making an annual volume with forty-eight plates. They consist of +the most celebrated views of natural scenery, and of rare works of art, +selected from prominent objects of interest in every part of the globe. +The first number contains an engraving of Bunker Hill Monument, the +_Ecole Nationale_ at Paris, Rousseau's Hermitage at Montmorency, and the +Royal Palace at Munich, besides a well-executed vignette on the +title-page and cover. The letter-press descriptions by the author are +retained in the original language, which, in a professed American +edition, is an injudicious arrangement, serving to limit the circulation +of the work, in a great degree, to Germans, and to those familiar with +the German language. + +Mrs. CROWE'S _Night Side of Nature_, published by J. S. Redfield, is +another contribution to the literature of Ghosts and Ghost-Seers, which, +like the furniture and costume of the middle ages, seems to be coming +into fashion with many curious amateurs of novelties. The reviving taste +for this kind of speculation is a singular feature of the age, showing +the prevalence of a dissatisfied and restless skepticism, rather than an +enlightened and robust faith in spiritual realities. Mrs. Crowe is a +decided, though gentle advocate of the preternatural character of the +marvelous phenomena, of which probably every country and age presents a +more or less extended record. She has collected a large mass of +incidents, which have been supposed to bear upon the subject, many of +which were communicated to her on personal authority, and were first +brought to the notice of the public in her volume. She has pursued her +researches, with incredible industry, into the traditions of various +nations, making free use of the copious erudition of the Germans in this +department, and arranging the facts or legends she has obtained with a +certain degree of historical criticism, that gives a value to her work +as an illustration of national beliefs, without reference to its +character as a _hortus siccus_ of weird and marvelous stories. In point +of style, her volume is unexceptionable; its spirit is modest and +reverent; it can not be justly accused of superstition, though it +betrays a womanly instinct for the supernatural: and without being +imbued with any love of dogmas, breathes an unmistakable atmosphere of +purity and religious trust. The study of this subject can not be +recommended to the weak-minded and timorous, but an omnivorous digestion +may find a wholesome exercise of its capacity in Mrs. Crowe's tough +revelations. + +A volume of Discourses, entitled _Christian Thoughts on Life_, by HENRY +GILES, has been published by Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, Boston, +consisting of a series of elaborate essays, intended to gather into a +compact form some fragments of moral experience, and to give a certain +record and order to the author's desultory studies of man's interior +life. Among the subjects of which it treats are The Worth of Life, the +Continuity of Life, the Discipline of Life, Weariness of Life, and +Mystery in Religion and in Life. The views presented by Mr. Giles are +evidently the fruit of profound personal reflection; they glow with the +vitality of experience; and in their tender and pleading eloquence will +doubtless commend themselves to many human sympathies. Mr. Giles has +been hitherto most favorably known to the public in this country, as a +brilliant rhetorician, and an original and piquant literary critic; in +the present volume, he displays a rare mastery of ethical analysis and +deduction. + +W. Phillips & Co., Cincinnati, have issued an octavo volume of nearly +seven hundred pages, composed of _Lectures on the American Eclectic +System of Surgery_, by BENJAMIN L. HILL, M.D., with over one hundred +illustrative engravings. It is based on the principles of the medical +system of which the author is a distinguished practitioner. + +The _National Temperance Offering_, edited by S. F. Cary, and published +by R. Vandien, is got up in an expensive style, and is intended as a +gift-book worthy the patronage of the advocates of the Temperance +Reform. In addition to a variety of contributions both in prose and +poetry from several able writers, it contains biographical sketches of +some distinguished Temperance men, accompanied with their portraits, +among whom we notice Rev. Dr. Beecher, Horace Greeley, John H. Hawkins, +T. P. Hunt, and others. + + + + +Fashions for Early Autumn. + + +[Illustration: FIG. 1.--PROMENADE DRESS.] + +[Illustration: FIG. 2.--COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.] + +FIG 1. A PROMENADE DRESS of a beautiful lavender _taffetas_, the front +of the skirt trimmed with folds of the same, confined at regular +distances with seven flutes of lavender gauze ribbon, put on the reverse +of the folds; a double fluted frilling, rather narrow, encircles the +opening of the body, which is made high at the back, and closed in the +front with a fluting of ribbon similar to that on the skirt; _demi-long_ +sleeves, cut up in a kind of wave at the back, so as to show the under +full sleeve of spotted white muslin. Chemisette of fulled muslin, +confined with bands of needlework. Scarf of white China _crape_, +beautifully embroidered, and finished with a deep, white, silk fringe. +Drawn _capote_ of pink _crape_, adorned in the interior with +half-wreaths of green myrtle. + +FIG. 2. COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.--A dress of white _barge_ trimmed +with three deep vandyked flounces put on close to each other; high body, +formed of worked inlet, finished with a stand-up row round the throat; +the sleeves descend as low as the elbow, where they are finished with +two deep frillings, vandyked similar to the flounces. Half-long gloves +of straw-colored kid, surmounted with a bracelet of black velvet. Drawn +_capote_ of white _crape_, adorned with clusters of the _rose de mott_ +both in the interior and exterior. _Pardessus_ of pink _glac_ silk, +trimmed with three frillings of the same, edged with a narrow silk +fringe, which also forms a heading to the same; over each hip is a +trimming _en tablier_ formed of the fringe; short sleeves, trimmed with +one fulling edged with fringe; these sleeves are of the same piece as +the cape, not cut separate; the trimming over the top of the arms being +similar to that under, and formed also of fringe; this _pardessus_ is +perfectly round in its form, and only closes just upon the front of the +waist. + +MORNING CAPS which are slightly ornamented, vary more in the way in +which they are trimmed, than in the positive form; some being trimmed +with _chicores_, wreaths of gauze ribbon, or knobs of ribbon edged with +a festooned open-work encircling a simple round of _tulle_, or what is +perhaps prettier, a cluster of lace. A pretty form, differing a little +from the monotonous round, is composed of a round forming a star, the +points being cut off; these points are brought close together, and are +encircled with a narrow _bavolet_, the front part being formed so as to +descend just below the ears, approaching somewhat to the appearance of +the front of a capote. A pretty style of morning cap are those made of +India muslin, _ petit papillon_, flat, edged with a choice Mechlin +lace, and having three _ricochets_ and a bunch of fancy ribbon placed +upon each side, from which depend the _brides_ or strings. Others are +extremely pretty, made of the _appliqu_ lace, rich Mechlin, or +needlework, and are sometimes ornamented with flowers, giving a +lightness to their appearance. + +[Illustration: MORNING CAPS.] + +FIG. 4. MORNING COSTUME.--Dress and pardessus of printed cambric muslin, +the pattern consisting of wreaths and bouquets of flowers. Jupon of +plain, white cambric muslin, edged with a border of rich open +needlework. The sleeves of the pardessus are gathered up in front of the +arm. The white under-sleeves, which do not descend to the wrists, are +finished by two rows of vandyked needlework. A small needlework collar. +Lace cap of the round form, placed very backward on the head, and +trimmed with full coques of pink and green ribbon at each ear. + +[Illustration: FIG. 4--MORNING COSTUME.] + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +Minor errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. + +The following typographical errors have been corrected: + + Page Corrected Text Original had + 435 fine view of the Firth of Forth Frith + 439 when the curtains of the evening curttains + 456 so I couldn't sleep comfortable could'nt + 465 splendid creature on which he is mounted spendid + 486 ancient hilarity of the English peasant peasaat + 496 I shall not readily forget, readi- + 497 "They didn't think so at Enghein." did'nt + 507 Andrew to be out so late to to + 522 I was no sooner in bed was was + 524 Were murmuring to the moon! to to + 532 heavy frames, hung round the walls roung + 549 he is justly punished for his offenses punnished + 549 publisher gives 500 gives gives + 565 Progress of the World of of + 566 be very rich in gold be be + 567 published is WORDSWORTH'S posthumous WORDSWORT'S + +The following words with questionable spellings have been retained: +auspicies, dacent, dacency, Elizabethean, vleys. Variant spellings of +dillettanti and dilettanti have been retained. Inconsistent hyphenation +is as per the original. + +The following errors which can not be corrected were noted: + +On page 520, it appears that one or more lines may be missing from the +original here: + + "sulphur mixed with it--and they said, + Indeed it was putting a great affront on the" + +On page 560, in the paragraph starting "A communication from M. +Trmaux..." the protagonist is later referred to as M. Trvaux. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume +1, No. 4, September, 1850, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 31358-8.txt or 31358-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/5/31358/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 4, September, 1850 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 22, 2010 [EBook #31358] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p><big>Table of Contents</big><br /> +<a href="#MISS_JANE_PORTER">Memories of Miss Jane Porter.</a><br /> +<a href="#Shooting_Stars_And_Meteoric_Showers">Shooting Stars and Meteoric Showers.</a><br /> +<a href="#A_FIVE_DAYS_TOUR_IN_THE_ODENWALD">A Five Days’ Tour in The Odenwald.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Mysterious_Preacher">The Mysterious Preacher.</a><br /> +<a href="#Assyrian_Sects">Assyrian Sects.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_APPROACH_OF_CHRISTMAS">The Approach of Christmas.</a><br /> +<a href="#Ugliness_Redeemed">Ugliness Redeemed—a Tale of a London Dust-heap.</a><br /> +<a href="#SKETCHES_OF_ENGLISH_CHARACTER">The Old Squire.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_YOUNG_SQUIRE">The Young Squire.</a><br /> +<a href="#Prescence_of_Mind">Presence of Mind—a Fragment.</a><br /> +<a href="#Fearful_Tragedy">Fearful Tragedy—a Man-Eating Lion.</a><br /> +<a href="#the_haunted_house_in_charnwood_forest">The Haunted House in Charnwood Forest.</a><br /> +<a href="#From_Frasers_Magazine">Ledru Rollin—Biographical Sketch.</a><br /> +<a href="#A_Chip_From_A_Sailors_Log">A Chip from a Sailor’s Log.</a><br /> +<a href="#the_two_thompsons">The Two Thompsons.</a><br /> +<a href="#Habits_of_the_African_Lion">Habits of the African Lion.</a><br /> +<a href="#the_old_church-yard_tree">The Old Church-Yard Tree.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_ENGLISH_PEASANT">The English Peasant.</a><br /> +<a href="#Maurice_Tiernay">Maurice Tiernay, the Soldier of Fortune.</a><br /> +<a href="#An_Aerial_Voyage">An Aerial Voyage.</a><br /> +<a href="#Andrew_Carsons_Money">Andrew Carson’s Money; A Story of Gold.</a><br /> +<a href="#Neander">Neander.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_DISASTERS_OF_A_MAN">The Disasters of a Man Who Wouldn’t Trust His Wife.</a><br /> +<a href="#Little_Mary">Little Mary.—a Tale of the Irish Famine.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_OLD_WELL_IN_LANGUEDOC">The Old Well in Languedoc.</a><br /> +<a href="#Summer_Pastime">Summer Pastime.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Chemistry_Of_A_Candle">The Chemistry of a Candle.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_MYSTERIOUS_COMPACT">The Mysterious Compact.</a><br /> +<a href="#WORDSWORTHS_POSTHUMOUS_POEM">Wordsworth’s Posthumous Poem.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_literary_profession">The Literary Profession—Authors and Publishers.</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_BROTHERS_CHEERYBLE">The Brothers Cheeryble.</a><br /> +<a href="#Writing_For_Periodicals">Writing for Periodicals.</a><br /> +<a href="#ANECDOTE_OF_LORD_CLIVE">Anecdote of Lord Clive.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Imprisoned_Lady">The Imprisoned Lady.</a><br /> +<a href="#LITERARY_AND_SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY">Literary and Scientific Miscellany.</a><br /> +<a href="#MONTHLY_RECORD_OF_CURRENT_EVENTS">Monthly Record of Current Events.</a><br /> +<a href="#LITERARY_NOTICES">Literary Notices.</a><br /> +<a href="#Fashions_for_Early_Autumn">Fashions for Early Autumn.</a><br /> +<a href="#TRANSCRIBERS_NOTE">Transcriber’s Note.</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span></p> +<h1>HARPER’S +<br /><big>NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.</big></h1> + +<h2><br />No. IV.—<span class="bb bt">SEPTEMBER, 1850</span>.—Vol. I.<br /></h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="MISS_JANE_PORTER" id="MISS_JANE_PORTER"></a> +<img src="images/illo_01.png" width="600" height="675" alt="MISS JANE PORTER" title="MISS JANE PORTER" /> +<span class="caption">MISS JANE PORTER</span> +</div> + +<p class="source">[From the London Art Journal.]</p> + +<h2>MEMORIES OF MISS JANE PORTER.</h2> + +<h3>BY MRS S. C. HALL.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> frequent observation of foreigners is, that in England we have few +“celebrated women.” Perhaps they mean that we have few who are +“notorious;” but let us admit that in either case they are right; and +may we not express our belief in its being better for women and for the +community that such is the case: “celebrity” rarely adds to the +happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The +time and attention required to attain “celebrity,” must, except under +very peculiar circumstances, interfere with the faithful discharge of +those feminine duties upon which the well-doing of society depends, and +which shed so pure a halo around our English homes. Within these “homes” +our heroes—statesmen—philosophers—men of letters—men of +genius—receive their first impressions, and the <em>impetus</em> to a faithful +discharge of their after callings as Christian subjects of the State.</p> + +<p>There are few of such men who do not trace back their resolution, their +patriotism, their wisdom, their learning—the nourishment of all their +higher aspirations—to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and +faith-inspired mother; one who <em>believed</em> in a son’s destiny to be +great; it may be, impelled by such belief rather by instinct than by +reason; who cherished (we can find no better word), the “Hero-feeling” +of devotion to what was right, though it might have been unworldly; and +whose deep heart welled up perpetual love and patience, toward the +over-boiling faults and frequent stumblings of a hot youth, which she +felt would mellow into a fruitful manhood.</p> + +<p>The strength and glory of England are in the keeping of the wives and +mothers of its men; and when we are questioned touching our “celebrated +women,” we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over, +moulded, and inspired our “celebrated” men.</p> + +<p>Happy is the country where the laws of God and nature are held in +reverence—where each sex fulfills its peculiar duties, and renders its +sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the +Almighty—for while other nations writhe in anarchy and poverty, our own +spreads wide her arms to receive all who seek protection or need repose.</p> + +<p>But if we have few “celebrated” women, few, who impelled either by +circumstances or the irrepressible restlessness of genius, go forth amid +the pitfalls of publicity, and battle with the world, either as +poets—or dramatists—or moralists—or mere tale-tellers in simple +prose—or, more dangerous still, “hold the mirror up to nature” on the +stage that mimics life—if we have but few, we have, and have had +<em>some</em>, of whom we are justly proud; women of such well-balanced minds, +that toil they ever so laboriously in their public and perilous paths, +their domestic and social duties have been fulfilled with as diligent +and faithful love as though the world had never been purified and +enriched by the treasures of their feminine wisdom; yet this does not +shake our belief, that, despite the spotless and well-earned reputations +they enjoyed, the homage they received (and it has its charm), and even +the blessed consciousness of having contributed to the healthful +recreation, the improved morality, the diffusion of the best sort of +knowledge—the <em>woman</em> would have been happier had she continued +enshrined in the privacy of domestic love and domestic duty. She may not +think this at the commencement of her career; and at its termination, if +she has lived sufficiently long to have descended, even gracefully from +her pedestal, she may often recall the homage of the <em>past</em> to make up +for its lack in the <em>present</em>. But so perfectly is woman constituted for +the cares, the affections, the duties—the blessed duties of +<em>un</em>-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span>public life—that if she give nature way it will whisper to her a +text that “celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman.” She +must look for her happiness to <span class="smcaps">home</span>. We would have young women ponder +over this, and watch carefully, ere the vail is lifted, and the hard +cruel eye of public criticism fixed upon them. No profession is pastime; +still less so now than ever, when so many people are “clever,” though so +few are great. We would pray those especially who direct their thoughts +to literature, to think of what they have to say, and why they wish to +say it; and above all, to weigh what they may expect from a capricious +public, against the blessed shelter and pure harmonies of private +life.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<p>But we have had some—and still have some—“celebrated” women of whom we +have said “we may be justly proud.” We have done pilgrimage to the +shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly “domestic” that the +Corinthian beauty of her character would never have been matter of +history, but for the wickedness of a bad king. We have recorded the +hours spent with Hannah More; the happy days passed with, and the years +invigorated by Maria Edgeworth. We might recall the stern and faithful +puritanism of Maria Jane Jewsbury; and the Old World devotion of the +true and high-souled daughter of Israel—Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones +of Felicia Heman’s poetry linger still among all who appreciate the holy +sympathies of religion and virtue. We could dwell long and profitably on +the enduring patience and life-long labor of Barbara Hofland, and steep +a diamond in tears to record the memories of L.E.L. We could—alas, +alas! barely five-and-twenty years’ acquaintance with literature and its +ornaments, and the brilliant catalogue is but a <em><span class="for" lang="lat" xml:lang="la">Momento Mori</span></em>! Perhaps +of all this list, Maria Edgworth’s life was the happiest; simply because +she was the most retired, the least exposed to the gaze and observation +of the world, the most occupied by loving duties toward the most united +circle of old and young we ever saw assembled in one happy home.</p> + +<p>The very young have never, perhaps read one of the tales of a lady whose +reputation, as a novelist, was in its zenith when Walter Scott published +his first novel. We desire to place a chaplet upon the grave of a woman +once “celebrated” all over the known world; yet who drew all her +happiness from the lovingness of home and friends, while her life was as +pure as her renown was extensive.</p> + +<p>In our own childhood romance reading was prohibited, but earnest +entreaty procured an exception in favor of the “Scottish Chiefs.” It was +the bright summer, and we read it by moonlight, only disturbed by the +murmur of the distant ocean. We read it, crouched in the deep recess of +the nursery window; we read it until moonlight and morning met, and the +breakfast bell ringing out into the soft air from the old gable, found +us at the end of the fourth volume. Dear old times! when it would have +been deemed little less than sacrilege to crush a respectable romance +into a shilling volume, and our mammas considered <em>only</em> a five volume +story curtailed of its just proportions.</p> + +<p>Sir William Wallace has never lost his heroic ascendency over us, and we +have steadily resisted every temptation to open the “popular edition” of +the long-loved romance, lest what people will call “the improved state +of the human mind,” might displace the sweet memory of the mingled +admiration and indignation that chased each other, while we read and +wept, without ever questioning the truth of the absorbing narrative.</p> + +<p>Yet, the “Scottish Chiefs” scarcely achieved the popularity of “Thaddeus +of Warsaw,” the first romance originated by the active brain and +singularly constructive power of Jane Porter, produced at an almost +girlish age.</p> + +<p>The hero of “Thaddeus of Warsaw” was really Kosciuszko, the beloved +pupil of George Washington, the grandest and purest patriot the Modern +World has known. The enthusiastic girl was moved to its composition by +the stirring times in which she lived; and a personal observation of, +and acquaintance with some of those brave men whose struggles for +liberty only ceased with their exile, or their existence.</p> + +<p>Miss Porter placed her standard of excellence on high ground, and—all +gentle-spirited as was her nature—it was firm and unflinching toward +what she believed the right and true. We must not, therefore, judge her +by the depressed state of “feeling” in these times, when its +demonstration is looked upon as artificial or affected. Toward the +termination of the last and the commencement of the present century, the +world was roused into an interest and enthusiasm, which now we can +scarcely appreciate or account for; the sympathies of England were +awakened by the terrible revolutions of France, and the desolation of +Poland; as a principle, we hated Napoleon, though he had neither act nor +part in the doings of the democrats; and the sea-songs of Dibdin, which +our youth <em>now</em> would call uncouth and ungraceful rhymes, were key-notes +to public feeling; the English of that time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> were thoroughly “awake,” +the British Lion had not slumbered through a thirty years’ peace. We +were a nation of soldiers and sailors, and patriots; not of mingled +cotton-spinners and railway speculators and angry protectionists; we do +not say which state of things is best or worst, we desire merely to +account for what may be called the taste for <em>heroic</em> literature at that +time, and the taste for—we really hardly know what to call +it—literature of the present, made up, as it too generally is, of +shreds and patches—bits of gold and bits of tinsel—things written in a +hurry to be read in a hurry, and never thought of afterward—suggestive +rather than reflective, at the best; and we must plead guilty to a too +great proneness to underrate what our fathers probably overrated.</p> + +<p>At all events we must bear in mind, while reading or thinking over Miss +Porter’s novels, that, in her day, even the exaggeration of enthusiasm +was considered good tone and good taste. How this enthusiasm was +<em>fostered</em>, not subdued, can be gathered by the author’s ingenious +preface to the, we believe, tenth edition of “Thaddeus of Warsaw.”</p> + +<p>This story brought her abundant honors, and rendered her society, as +well as the society of her sister and brother, sought for by all who +aimed at a reputation for taste and talent. Mrs. Porter, on her +husband’s death (he was the younger son of a well-connected Irish +family, born in Ireland, in or near Coleraine, we believe, and a major +in the Enniskillen dragoons), sought a residence for her family in +Edinburgh, where education and good society are attainable to persons of +moderate fortunes, if they are “well born;” but the extraordinary +artistic skill of her son Robert required a wider field, and she brought +her children to London sooner than she had intended, that his promising +talents might be cultivated. We believe the greater part of “Thaddeus of +Warsaw” was written in London, either in St. Martin’s-lane, +Newport-street, or Gerard-street, Soho (for in these three streets the +family lived after their arrival in the metropolis); though as soon as +Robert Ker Porter’s abilities floated him on the stream, his mother and +sisters retired, in the brightness of their fame and beauty, to the +village of Thames Ditton, a residence they loved to speak of as their +“home.” The actual labor of “Thaddeus”—her first novel—must have been +considerable; for testimony was frequently borne to the fidelity of its +localities, and Poles refused to believe that the author had not visited +Poland; indeed, she had a happy power in describing localities.</p> + +<p>It was on the publication of Miss Porter’s two first works in the German +language that their author was honored by being made a Lady of the +Chapter of St. Joachim, and received the gold cross of the order from +Wurtemberg; but “The Scottish Chiefs” was never so popular on the +continent as “Thaddeus of Warsaw,” although Napoleon honored it with an +interdict, to prevent its circulation in France. If Jane Porter owed +her Polish inspirations so peculiarly to the tone of the times in which +she lived, she traces back, in her introduction to the latest edition of +“The Scottish Chiefs,” her enthusiasm in the cause of Sir William +Wallace to the influence of an old “Scotch wife’s” tales and ballads +produced upon her mind while in early childhood. She wandered amid what +she describes as “beautiful green banks,” which rose in natural terraces +behind her mother’s house, and where a cow and a few sheep occasionally +fed. This house stood alone, at the head of a little square, near the +high school; the distinguished Lord Elchies formerly lived in the house, +which was very ancient, and from those green banks it commanded a fine +view of the Firth of Forth. While gathering “<em>gowans</em>” or other wild +flowers for her infant sister (whom she loved more dearly than her life, +during the years they lived in most tender and affectionate +companionship), she frequently encountered this aged woman with her +knitting in her hand; and she would speak to the eager and intelligent +child of the blessed quiet of the land, where the cattle were browsing +without fear of an enemy; and then she would talk of the awful times of +the brave Sir William Wallace, when he fought for Scotland “against a +cruel tyrant; like unto them whom Abraham overcame when he recovered +Lot, with all his herds and flocks, from the proud foray of the robber +kings of the South,” who, she never failed to add, “were all rightly +punished for oppressing the stranger in a foreign land! for the Lord +careth for the stranger.” Miss Porter says that this woman never omitted +mingling pious allusions with her narrative, “Yet she was a person of +low degree, dressed in a coarse woolen gown, and a plain <em>Mutch</em> cap +clasped under the chin with a silver brooch, which her father had worn +at the battle of Culloden.” Of course she filled with tales of Sir +William Wallace and the Bruce, the listening ears of the lovely Saxon +child who treasured them in her heart and brain, until they fructified +in after years into the “Scottish Chiefs.” To these two were added “The +Pastor’s Fireside,” and a number of other tales and romances; she +contributed to several annuals and magazines, and always took pains to +keep up the reputation she had won, achieving a large share of the +popularity, to which, as an author, she never looked for happiness. No +one could be more alive to praise or more grateful for attention, but +the heart of a genuine, pure, loving woman, beat within Jane Porter’s +bosom, and she was never drawn <em>out</em> of her domestic circle by the +flattery that has spoiled so many, men as well as women. Her mind was +admirably balanced by her home affections, which remained unsullied and +unshaken to the end of her days. She had, in common with her three +brothers and her charming sister, the advantage of a wise and loving +mother—a woman pious without cant, and worldly-wise without being +worldly. Mrs. Porter was born at Durham, and when very young bestowed +her hand and heart on Major Porter; an old friend of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> family assures +us that two or three of their children were born in Ireland, and that +certainly Jane was among the number;<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> although she left Ireland when +in early youth, perhaps almost an infant, she certainly must be +considered “Irish,” as her father was so both by birth and descent, and +esteemed during his brief life as a brave and generous gentleman; he +died young, leaving his lovely widow in straightened circumstances, +having only her widow’s pension to depend on. The eldest son—afterward +Colonel Porter—was sent to school by his grandfather.</p> + +<p>We have +glanced briefly at Sir Robert Ker Porter’s wonderful talents, and Anna +Maria, when in her twelfth year, rushed, as Jane acknowledged, +“prematurely into print.” Of Anna Maria we knew personally but very +little; enough, however, to recall with a pleasant memory her readiness +in conversation, and her bland and cheerful manners. No two sisters +could have been more different in bearing and appearance: Maria was a +delicate blonde, with a <em>riant</em> face, and an animated manner—we had +said almost <em>peculiarly Irish</em>—rushing at conclusions, where her more +thoughtful and careful sister paused to consider and calculate. The +beauty of Jane was statuesque, her deportment serious yet cheerful, a +seriousness quite as natural as her younger sister’s gayety; they both +labored diligently, but Anna Maria’s labor was sport when compared to +her elder sister’s careful toil; Jane’s mind was of a more lofty order, +she was intense, and felt more than she said, while Anna Maria often +said more than she felt; they were a delightful contrast, and yet the +harmony between them was complete; and one of the happiest days we ever +spent, while trembling on the threshold of literature, was with them at +their pretty road-side cottage, in the village of Esher, before the +death of their venerable and dearly-beloved mother, whose rectitude and +prudence had both guided and sheltered their youth, and who lived to +reap with them the harvest of their industry and exertion. We remember +the drive there, and the anxiety as to how those very “clever ladies” +would look, and what they would say; we talked over the various letters +we had received from Jane, and thought of the cordial invitation to +their cottage—their “mother’s cottage”—as they always called it. We +remember the old white friendly spaniel who looked at us with blinking +eyes, and preceded us up-stairs; we remember the formal, old-fashioned +courtesy of the venerable old lady, who was then nearly eighty—the blue +ribbons and good-natured frankness of Anna Maria, and the noble courtesy +of Jane, who received visitors as if she granted an audience; this +manner was natural to her; it was only the manner of one whose thoughts +have dwelt more on heroic deeds, and lived more with heroes than with +actual living men and women; the effect of this, however, soon passed +away, but not so the fascination which was in all she said and did. Her +voice was soft and musical, and her conversation addressed to one person +rather than to the company at large, while Maria talked rapidly to every +one, or <em>for</em> every one who chose to listen. How happily the hours +passed! we were shown some of those extraordinary drawings of Sir +Robert, who gained an artist’s reputation before he was twenty, and +attracted the attention of West and Shee<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> in his mere boyhood. We +heard all the interesting particulars of his panoramic picture of the +Storming of Seringapatam, which, the first of its class, was known half +over the world. We must not, however, be misunderstood—there was +neither personal nor family egotism in the Porters; they invariably +spoke of each other with the tenderest affection—but unless the +conversation was <em>forced</em> by their friends, they never mentioned their +own, or each other’s works, while they were most ready to praise what +was excellent in the works of others; they spoke with pleasure of their +sojourns in London; while their mother said, it was much wiser and +better for young ladies who were not rich, to live quietly in the +country, and escape the temptations of luxury and display. At that time +the “young ladies” seemed to us certainly <em>not</em> young; that was about +two-and-twenty years ago, and Jane Porter was seventy-five when she +died. They talked much of their previous dwelling at Thames Ditton, of +the pleasant neighborhood they enjoyed there, though their mother’s +health and their own had much improved since their residence on +Esher-hill; their little garden was bounded at the back by the beautiful +park of Claremont, and the front of the house overlooked the leading +roads, broken as they are by the village green, and some noble elms. The +view is crowned by the high trees of Esher-place, opening from the +village on that side of the brow of the hill. Jane pointed out the +<em>locale</em> of the proud Cardinal Wolsey’s domain, inhabited during the +days of his power over Henry VIII., and in their cloudy evening, when +that capricious monarch’s favor changed to bitterest hate. It was the +very spot to foster her high romance, while she could at the same time +enjoy the sweets of that domestic converse she loved best of all. We +were prevented by the occupations and heart-beatings of our own literary +labors <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span>from repeating this visit; and in 1831, four years after these +well-remembered hours, the venerable mother of a family so distinguished +in literature and art, rendering their names known and honored wherever +art and letters flourish, was called <span class="smcaps">home</span>. The sisters, who had resided +ten years at Esher, left it, intending to sojourn for a time with their +second brother, Doctor Porter, (who commenced his career as a surgeon in +the navy) in Bristol; but within a year the youngest, the +light-spirited, bright-hearted Anna Maria died: her sister was +dreadfully shaken by her loss, and the letters we received from her +after this bereavement, though containing the outpourings of a sorrowing +spirit, were full of the certainty of that reunion hereafter which +became the hope of her life. She soon resigned her cottage home at +Esher, and found the affectionate welcome she so well deserved in many +homes, where friends vied with each other to fill the void in her +sensitive heart. She was of too wise a nature, and too sympathizing a +habit, to shut out new interests and affections, but her <em>old ones</em> +never withered, nor were they ever replaced; were the love of such a +sister-friend—the watchful tenderness and uncompromising love of a +mother—ever “replaced,” to a lonely sister or a bereaved daughter! Miss +Porter’s pen had been laid aside for some time, when suddenly she came +before the world as the editor of “Sir Edward Seward’s Narrative,” and +set people hunting over old atlases to find out the island where he +resided. The whole was a clever fiction; yet Miss Porter never confided +its authorship, we believe, beyond her family circle; perhaps the +correspondence and documents, which are in the hands of one of her +kindest friends (her executor), Mr. Shepherd, may throw some light upon +a subject which the “Quarterly” honored by an article. We think the +editor certainly used her pen, as well as her judgment, in the work, and +we have imagined that it might have been written by the family circle, +more in sport than in earnest, and then produced to serve a double +purpose.</p> + +<p>After her sister’s death Miss Jane Porter was afflicted +with so severe an illness, that we, in common with her other friends, +thought it impossible she could carry out her plan of journeying to St. +Petersburgh to visit her brother, Sir Robert Ker Porter, who had been +long united to a Russian princess, and was then a widower; her strength +was fearfully reduced; her once round figure become almost spectral, and +little beyond the placid and dignified expression of her noble +countenance remained to tell of her former beauty; but her resolve was +taken; she wished, she said, to see once more her youngest and most +beloved brother, so distinguished in several careers, almost deemed +incompatible—as a painter, an author, a soldier, and a diplomatist, and +nothing could turn her from her purpose: she reached St. Petersburgh in +safety, and with apparently improved health, found her brother as much +courted and beloved there as in his own land, and his daughter married +to a Russian of high distinction. Sir Robert longed to return to +England. He did not complain of any illness, and every thing was +arranged for their departure; his final visits were paid, all but one to +the Emperor, who had ever treated him as a friend; the day before his +intended journey he went to the palace, was graciously received, and +then drove home, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span>but when the servant opened the carriage-door at his +own residence he was dead! One sorrow after another pressed heavily upon +her, yet she was still the same sweet, gentle, holy-minded woman she had +ever been, bending with Christian faith to the will of the +Almighty—“biding her time.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illo_02.png" width="800" height="612" alt="JANE PORTER’S COTTAGE AT ESHER." title="JANE PORTER’S COTTAGE AT ESHER." /> +<span class="caption">JANE PORTER’S COTTAGE AT ESHER.</span> +</div> + +<p>How differently would she have “watched and waited” had she been tainted +by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of “literary +reputation.” While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the success +of those who scramble up—where she bore the standard to the heights—of +Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing some literary +“Tyro” to those who could aid or advise a future career. We can speak +from experience of the warm interest she took in the Hospital for the +cure of Consumption, and the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution; during +the progress of the latter, her health was painfully feeble, yet she +used personal influence for its success, and worked with her own hands +for its bazaars. She was ever aiding those who could not aid themselves; +and all her thoughts, words, and deeds, were evidence of her clear, +powerful mind, and kindly loving heart; her appearance in the London +<em>coteries</em> was always hailed with interest and pleasure; to the young +she was especially affectionate; but it was in the quiet mornings, or in +the long twilight evenings of summer, when visiting her cherished +friends at Shirley Park, in Kensington-square, or wherever she might be +located for the time—it was then that her former spirit revived and she +poured forth anecdote and illustration, and the store of many years’ +observation, filtered by experience and purified by that delightful +faith to which she held—that “all things work together for good to them +that love the Lord.” She held this in practice, even more than in +theory: you saw her chastened yet hopeful spirit beaming forth from her +gentle eyes, and her sweet smile can never be forgotten. The last time +we saw her, was about two years ago—in Bristol—at her brother, Dr. +Porter’s house in Portland-square: then she could hardly stand without +assistance, yet she never complained of her own suffering or +feebleness—all her anxiety was about the brother—then dangerously ill, +and now the last of “his race.” Major Porter, it will be remembered, +left five children, and these have left only one descendant—the +daughter of Sir Robert Ker Porter and the Russian Princess whom he +married, a young Russian lady, whose present name we do not even know.</p> + +<p>We did not think at our last leave-taking that Miss Porter’s fragile +frame could have so long withstood the Power that takes away all we hold +most dear; but her spirit was at length summoned, after a few days’ +total insensibility, on the 24th of May.</p> + +<p>We were haunted by the idea that the pretty cottage at Esher, where we +spent those happy hours, had been treated even as “Mrs. Porter’s +Arcadia” at Thames Ditton—now altogether removed; and it was with a +melancholy pleasure we found it the other morning in nothing changed; it +was almost impossible to believe that so many years had passed since our +last visit. While Mr. Fairholt was sketching the cottage, we knocked at +the door, and were kindly permitted by two gentle sisters, who now +inhabit it, to enter the little drawing-room and walk round the garden; +except that the drawing-room has been re-papered and painted, and that +there were no drawings and no flowers, the room was not in the least +altered; yet to us it seemed like a sepulchre, and we rejoiced to +breathe the sweet air of the little garden, and listen to a nightingale, +whose melancholy cadence harmonized with our feelings.</p> + +<p>“Whenever you are at Esher,” said the devoted daughter, the last time we +conversed with her, “do visit my mother’s tomb.” We did so. A cypress +flourishes at the head of the grave; and the following touching +inscription is carved on the stone:</p> +<p class="center"> +HERE SLEEPS IN JESUS A CHRISTIAN WIDOW<br /> +<big>JANE PORTER</big><br /> +OBIIT JUNE 18TH, 1831, ÆTAT. 86;<br /> +THE BELOVED MOTHER OF<br /> +W. PORTER, M.D., OF SIR ROBERT KER PORTER,<br /> +AND OF JANE AND ANNA MARIA PORTER,<br /> +WHO MOURN IN HOPE, HUMBLY TRUSTING TO BE BORN<br /> +AGAIN WITH HER UNTO THE BLESSED KINGDOM<br /> +OF THEIR LORD AND SAVIOUR.<br /> +RESPECT HER GRAVE, FOR SHE MINISTERED TO THE POOR<br /> +</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_03.png" width="600" height="497" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> In support of this opinion, which we know is opposed to the +popular feeling of many in the present day, we venture to quote what +Miss Porter herself repeats, as said to her by Madame de Stael: “She +frequently praised my revered mother for the retired manner in which she +maintained her little domestic establishment, <em>yielding her daughters +to society, but not to the world</em>.” We pray those we love, to mark the +delicate and most true distinction, between “society” and the “world.” +“I was set on a stage,” continued De Stael, “I was set on a stage, at a +child’s age, to be listened to as a wit and worshiped for my premature +judgment. I drank adulation as my soul’s nourishment, <em>and I cannot now +live without its poison; it has been my bane</em>, never an aliment. My +heart ever sighed for happiness, and I ever lost it, when I thought it +approaching my grasp. I was admired, made an idol, <em>but never beloved</em>. +I do not accuse my parents for having made this mistake, but I have not +repeated it in my Albertine” (her daughter.) “She shall not +</p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">‘Seek for love, and fill her arms with bays.’<br /></span> +</div></div> +<p> +I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Miss Porter never told me she was an Irishwoman, but once +she questioned me concerning my own parentage and place of birth; and +upon my explaining that my mother was an English woman, my father Irish, +and that I was born in Ireland, which I quitted early in life, she +observed <em>her own circumstances were very similar to mine</em>. For my own +part, I have no doubt that she was Irish by birth and by descent on the +father’s side, but it will be no difficult matter to obtain direct +evidence of the facts; and we hope that some Irish patriotic friend will +make due inquiries on the subject. During her life, I had no idea of her +connection with Ireland, or I should certainly have ascertained if my +own country had a claim of which it may be justly proud.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> In his early days the President of the Royal Academy +painted a very striking portrait of Jane Porter, as “Miranda,” and +Harlowe painted her in the canoness dress of the order of St. Joachim.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p> +<p class="source"><a name="Shooting_Stars_And_Meteoric_Showers" id="Shooting_Stars_And_Meteoric_Showers"></a>[From the Gallery of Nature.]</p> + +<h2>SHOOTING STARS AND METEORIC SHOWERS.</h2> + + +<div class="drop"> +<img src="images/illo_cap.png" alt="F" width="150" height="187" class="cap" /> +<p class="cap_1"><span class="smcap">From</span> every region of the globe and in all ages of time within the range +of history, exhibitions of apparent instability in the heavens have been +observed, when the curtains of the evening have been drawn. Suddenly, a +line of light arrests the eye, darting like an arrow through a varying +extent of space, and in a moment the firmament is as sombre as before. +The appearance is exactly that of a star falling from its sphere, and +hence the popular title of shooting star applied to it. The apparent +magnitudes of these meteorites are widely different, and also their +brilliancy. Occasionally, they are far more resplendent than the +brightest of the planets, and throw a very perceptible illumination upon +the path of the observer. A second or two commonly suffices for the +individual display, but in some instances it has lasted several minutes. +In every climate it is witnessed, and at all times of the year, but most +frequently in the autumnal months. As far back as records go, we meet +with allusions to these swift and evanescent luminous travelers. +Minerva’s hasty flight from the peaks of Olympus to break the truce +between the Greeks and Trojans, is compared by Homer to the emission of +a brilliant star. Virgil, in the first book of the Georgics, mentions +the shooting stars as prognosticating weather changes:</p></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“And on, before tempestuous winds arise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With sweeping glories and long trains of light.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Various hypotheses have been framed to explain the nature and origin of +these remarkable appearances. When electricity began to be understood, +this was thought to afford a satisfactory explanation, and the shooting +stars were regarded by Beccaria and Vassali as merely electrical sparks. +When the inflammable nature of the gases became known, Lavosier and +Volta supposed an accumulation of hydrogen in the higher regions of the +atmosphere, because of its inferior density, giving rise by ignition to +the meteoric exhibitions. While these theories of the older philosophers +have been shown to be untenable, there is still great obscurity resting +upon the question, though we have reason to refer the phenomena to a +cause exterior to the bounds of our atmosphere. Upon this ground, the +subject assumes a strictly astronomical aspect, and claims a place in a +treatise on the economy of the solar system.</p> + +<p>The first attempt accurately to investigate these elegant meteors was +made by two university students, afterward Professors Brandes of +Leipsic, and Benzenberg of Dusseldorf, in the year 1798. They selected a +base line of 46,200 feet, somewhat less than nine English miles, and +placed themselves at its extremities on appointed nights, for the +purpose of ascertaining their average altitude and velocity. Out of +twenty-two appearances identified as the same, they found,</p> +<div class="indent"> +<p>7 under 45 miles<br /> +9 between 45 and 90 miles<br /> +5 above 90 miles<br /> +1 above 140 miles.<br /></p> +</div> + +<p>The greatest observed velocity gave twenty-five miles in a second. A +more extensive plan was organized by Brandes in the year 1823, and +carried into effect in the neighborhood of Breslaw. Out of ninety-eight +appearances, the computed heights were,</p> +<div class="indent"> +<p>4 under 15 miles<br /> +15 from 15 to 30 miles<br /> +22 from 30 to 45 miles<br /> +33 from 45 to 70 miles<br /> +13 from 70 to 90 miles<br /> +6 above 90 miles<br /> +5 from 140 to 460 miles.</p> +</div> +<p>The velocities were between eighteen and thirty-six miles in a second, +an average velocity far greater than that of the earth in its orbit.</p> + +<p>The rush of luminous bodies through the sky of a more extraordinary +kind, though a rare occurrence, has repeatedly been observed. They are +usually discriminated from shooting stars, and known by the vulgar as +fire-balls; but probably both proceed from the same cause, and are +identical phenomena. They have sometimes been seen of large volume, +giving an intense light, a hissing noise accompanying their progress, +and a loud explosion attending their termination. In the year 1676, a +meteor passed over Italy about two hours after sunset, upon which +Montanari wrote a treatise. It came over the Adriatic Sea as if from +Dalmatia, crossed the country in the direction of Rimini and Leghorn, a +loud report being heard at the latter place, and disappeared upon the +sea toward Corsica. A similar visitor was witnessed all over England, in +1718, and forms the subject of one of Halley’s papers to the Royal +Society. Sir Hans Sloane was one of its spectators. Being abroad at the +time of its appearance, at a quarter past eight at night, in the streets +of London, his path was suddenly and intensely illuminated. This, he +apprehended at first, might arise from a discharge of rockets; but found +a fiery object in the heavens, moving after the manner of a falling +star, in a direct line from the Pleiades to below the girdle of Orion. +Its brightness was so vivid, that several times he was obliged to turn +away his eyes from it. The stars disappeared, and the moon, then nine +days old, and high near the meridian, the sky being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span> very clear, was so +effaced by the lustre of the meteor as to be scarcely seen. It was +computed to have passed over three hundred geographical miles in a +minute, at the distance of sixty miles above the surface, and was +observed at different extremities of the kingdom. The sound of an +explosion was heard through Devon and Cornwall, and along the opposite +coast of Bretagne. Halley conjectured this and similar displays to +proceed from combustible vapors aggregated on the outskirts of the +atmosphere, and suddenly set on fire by some unknown cause. But since +his time, the fact has been established, of the actual fall of heavy +bodies to the earth from surrounding space, which requires another +hypothesis. To these bodies the term aërolites is applied, signifying +atmospheric stones, from αηρ, the atmosphere, and λιθος, a stone. While many meteoric appearances may simply arise from +electricity, or from the inflammable gases, it is now certain, from the +proved descent of aërolites, that such bodies are of extra-terrestrial +origin.</p> + +<p>Antiquity refers us to several objects as having descended from the +skies, the gifts of the immortal gods. Such was the Palladium of Troy, +the image of the goddess of Ephesus, and the sacred shield of Numa. The +folly of the ancients in believing such narrations has often been the +subject of remark; but, however fabulous the particular cases referred +to, the moderns have been compelled to renounce their skepticism +respecting the fact itself, of the actual transition of substances from +celestial space to terrestrial regions; and no doubt the ancient faith +upon this subject was founded on observed events. The following table, +taken from the work of M. Izarn, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Des Pierres tombées du Ciel</span>, exhibits +a collection of instances of the fall of aërolites, together with the +eras of their descent, and the persons on whose evidence the facts rest; +but the list might be largely extended.</p> + +<table id="table1" summary="Table of Historical Aërolite Sightings"> +<tr><th>Substance.</th><th>Place.</th><th>Period.</th><th>Authority.</th></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>At Rome</td><td>Under Tullus Hostilius</td><td>Livy.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>At Rome</td><td>Consuls C. Martius and M. Torquatus</td><td>J. Obsequens.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of iron</td><td>In Lucania</td><td>Year before the defeat of Crassus</td><td>Pliny.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of mercury</td><td>In Italy</td><td> </td><td>Dion.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Large stone </td><td>Near the river Negos, Thrace</td><td>Second year of the 78th Olympiad</td><td>Pliny.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Three large stones</td><td>In Thrace</td><td>Year before J. C. 452</td><td>Ch. of Count Marcellin.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of fire</td><td>At Quesnoy</td><td>January 4, 1717</td><td>Geoffroy le Cadet.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Stone of 72lbs.</td><td>Near Larissa, Macedonia</td><td>January 1706</td><td>Paul Lucas.</td></tr> +<tr><td>About 1200 stones }<br /><span style="padding-left:1.2em;">—one of 120lbs. }</span><br /> +Another of 60lbs. }</td><td>Near Padua in Italy</td><td>In 1510</td><td>Carden, Varcit.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Another of 59lbs.</td><td>On Mount Vasier, Provence</td><td>November 27, 1627</td><td>Gassendi.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of sand for 15 hours</td><td>In the Atlantic</td><td>April 6, 1719</td><td>Père la Fuillée.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of sulphur</td><td>Sodom and Gomorra</td><td> </td><td>Moses.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Sulphurous rain</td><td>In the Duchy of Mansfield</td><td>In 1658</td><td>Spangenburgh.</td></tr> +<tr><td>The same</td><td>Copenhagen</td><td>In 1646</td><td>Olaus Wormius.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of sulphur</td><td>Brunswick</td><td>October 1721</td><td>Siegesbær.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of unknown matter</td><td>Ireland</td><td>In 1695</td><td>Muschenbroeck.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Two large stones, weighing 20lbs.</td><td>Liponas, in Bresse</td><td>September 1753</td><td>Lalande.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stony mass</td><td>Niort, Normandy</td><td>In 1750</td><td>Lalande.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone of 7-1/2lbs.</td><td>At Luce, in Le Maine</td><td>September 13, 1768</td><td>Bachelay.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone</td><td>At Aire, in Artois</td><td>In 1768</td><td>Gursonde de Boyaval.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone</td><td>In Le Cotentin</td><td>In 1768</td><td>Morand.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Extensive shower of stones</td><td>Environs of Agen</td><td>July 24, 1790</td><td>St. Amand, Baudin, &c.</td></tr> +<tr><td>About twelve stones</td><td>Sienna, Tuscany</td><td>July 1794</td><td>Earl of Bristol.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A large stone of 56lbs.</td><td>Wold Cottage, Yorkshire</td><td>December 13, 1795</td><td>Captain Topham.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone of about 20lbs.</td><td>Sale, Department of the Rhone</td><td>March 17, 1798</td><td>Lelievre and De Drée.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone of 10lbs.</td><td>In Portugal</td><td>February 19, 1796</td><td>Southey.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>Benares, East Indies</td><td>December 19, 1798</td><td>J. Lloyd Williams, Esq.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>At Plaun, near Tabor, Bohemia</td><td>July 3, 1753</td><td>B. de Born.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Mass of iron, 70 cubic feet</td><td>America</td><td>April 5, 1800</td><td>Philosophical Mag.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Mass of iron, 14 quintals</td><td>Abakauk, Siberia</td><td>Very old</td><td>Pallas, Chladni, &c.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>Barboutan, near Roquefort</td><td>July 1789</td><td>Darcet Jun., Lomet, &c.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Large stone of 260lbs.</td><td>Ensisheim, Upper Rhine</td><td>November 7, 1492</td><td>Butenschoen.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Two stones, 200 and 300lbs.</td><td>Near Verona</td><td>In 1762</td><td>Acad. de Bourd.</td></tr> +<tr><td>A stone of 20lbs.</td><td>Sules, near Ville Franche</td><td>March 12, 1798</td><td>De Drée.</td></tr> +<tr><td>Several stones from 10 to 17lbs.</td><td>Near L’Aigle, Normandy</td><td>April 26, 1803</td><td>Fourcroy.</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>Some of the instances in the table are of sufficient interest to deserve +a notice.</p> + +<p>A singular relation respecting the stone of Ensisheim on the Rhine, at +which philosophy once smiled incredulously, regarding it as one of the +romances of the middle ages, may now be admitted to sober attention as a +piece of authentic history. A homely narrative of its fall was drawn up +at the time by order of the Emperor Maximilian, and deposited with the +stone in the church. It may thus be rendered: <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span>“In the year of the Lord +1492, on Wednesday, which was Martinmas eve, the 7th of November, a +singular miracle occurred; for, between eleven o’clock and noon, there +was a loud clap of thunder, and a prolonged confused noise, which was +heard at a great distance; and a stone fell from the air, in the +jurisdiction of Ensisheim, which weighed two hundred and sixty pounds, +and the confused noise was, besides, much louder than here. Then a child +saw it strike on a field in the upper jurisdiction, toward the Rhine and +Inn, near the district of Giscano, which was sown with wheat, and it did +it no harm, except that it made a hole there: and then they conveyed it +from that spot; and many pieces were broken from it; which the landvogt +forbade. They, therefore, caused it to be placed in the church, with the +intention of suspending it as a miracle: and there came here many people +to see this stone. So there were remarkable conversations about this +stone: but the learned said that they knew not what it was; for it was +beyond the ordinary course of nature that such a large stone should +smite the earth from the height of the air; but that it was really a +miracle of God; for, before that time, never any thing was heard like +it, nor seen, nor described. When they found that stone, it had entered +into the earth to the depth of a man’s stature, which every body +explained to be the will of God that it should be found; and the noise +of it was heard at Lucerne, at Vitting, and in many other places, so +loud that it was believed that houses had been overturned: and as the +King Maximilian was here the Monday after St. Catharine’s day of the +same year, his royal excellency ordered the stone which had fallen to be +brought to the castle, and, after having conversed a long time about it +with the noblemen, he said that the people of Ensisheim should take it, +and order it to be hung up in the church, and not to allow any body to +take any thing from it. His excellency, however, took two pieces of it; +of which he kept one, and sent the other to the Duke Sigismund of +Austria: and they spoke a great deal about this stone, which they +suspended in the choir, where it still is; and a great many people came +to see it.” Contemporary writers confirm the substance of this +narration, and the evidence of the fact exists; the aërolite is +precisely identical in its chemical composition with that of other +meteoric stones. It remained for three centuries suspended in the +church, was carried off to Colmar during the French revolution; but has +since been restored to its former site, and Ensisheim rejoices in the +possession of the relic. A piece broken from it is in the Museum of the +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Jardin des Plantes</span> at Paris.</p> + +<p>The celebrated Gassendi was an eye-witness of a similar event. In the +year 1627, on the 27th of November, the sky being quite clear, he saw a +burning stone fall in the neighborhood of Nice, and examined the mass. +While in the air it appeared to be about four feet in diameter, was +surrounded by a luminous circle of colors like a rainbow, and its fall +was accompanied by a noise like the discharge of artillery. Upon +inspecting the substance, he found it weighed 59 lbs., was extremely +hard, of a dull, metallic color, and of a specific gravity considerably +greater than that of common marble. Having only this solitary instance +of such an occurrence, Gassendi concluded that the mass came from some +of the mountains of Provence, which had been in a transient state of +volcanic activity. Instances of the same phenomenon occurred in the +years 1672, 1756, and 1768; but the facts were generally doubted by +naturalists, and considered as electrical appearances, magnified by +popular ignorance and timidity. A remarkable example took place in +France in the year 1790. Between nine and ten o’clock at night, on the +24th of July, a luminous ball was seen traversing the atmosphere with +great rapidity, and leaving behind it a train of light; a loud explosion +was then heard, accompanied with sparks which flew off in all +directions; this was followed by a shower of stones over a considerable +extent of ground, at various distances from each other, and of different +sizes. A <em><span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">procès</span> verbal</em> was drawn up, attesting the circumstance, +signed by the magistrates of the municipality, and by several hundreds +of persons inhabiting the district. This curious document is literally +as follows: “In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety, and the +thirtieth day of the month of August, we, the Lieut. Jean Duby, mayor, +and Louis Massillon, procurator of the commune of the municipality of La +Grange-de-Juillac, and Jean Darmite, resident in the parish of La +Grange-de-Juillac, certify in truth and verity, that on Saturday, the +24th of July last, between nine and ten o’clock, there passed a great +fire, and after it we heard in the air a very loud and extraordinary +noise; and about two minutes after there fell stones from heaven; but +fortunately there fell only a very few, and they fell about ten paces +from one another in some places, and in others nearer, and, finally, in +some other places farther; and falling, most of them, of the weight of +about half a quarter of a pound each, some others of about half a pound, +like that found in our parish of La Grange; and on the borders of the +parish of Creon, they were found of a pound weight; and in falling, they +seemed not to be inflamed, but very hard and black without, and within +of the color of steel: and, thank God, they occasioned no harm to the +people, nor to the trees, but only to some tiles which were broken on +the houses; and most of them fell gently, and others fell quickly, with +a hissing noise; and some were found which had entered into the earth, +but very few. In witness thereof, we have written and signed these +presents. Duby, mayor. Darmite.” Though such a document as this, coming +from the unlearned of the district where the phenomenon occurred, was +not calculated to win acceptance with the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">savans</span> of the French +capital, yet it was corroborated by a host of intelligent witnesses at +Bayonne, Thoulouse, and Bordeaux, and by transmitted specimens +containing the substances usually found in atmospheric stones, and in +nearly the same proportions. A few years afterward, an undoubted +instance of the fall of an aërolite occurred in England, which largely +excited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> public curiosity. This was in the neighborhood of Wold Cottage, +the house of Captain Topham, in Yorkshire. Several persons heard the +report of an explosion in the air, followed by a hissing sound; and +afterward felt a shock, as if a heavy body had fallen to the ground at a +little distance from them. One of these, a plowman, saw a huge stone +falling toward the earth, eight or nine yards from the place where he +stood. It threw up the mould on every side, and after penetrating +through the soil, lodged some inches deep in solid chalk rock. Upon +being raised, the stone was found to weigh fifty-six pounds. It fell in +the afternoon of a mild but hazy day, during which there was no thunder +or lightning; and the noise of the explosion was heard through a +considerable district. It deserves remark, that in most recorded cases +of the descent of projectiles, the weather has been settled, and the sky +clear; a fact which plainly places them apart from the causes which +operate to produce the tempest, and shows the popular term thunder-bolt +to be an entire misnomer.</p> + +<p>While this train of circumstances was preparing the philosophic mind of +Europe to admit as a truth what had hitherto been deemed a vulgar error, +and acknowledge the appearance of masses of ignited matter in the +atmosphere occasionally descending to the earth, an account of a +phenomenon of this kind was received from India, vouched by an authority +calculated to secure it general respect. It came from Mr. Williams, +F.R.S., a resident in Bengal. It stated that on December 19th, 1798, at +eight o’clock in the evening, a large, luminous meteor was seen at +Benares and other parts of the country. It was attended with a loud, +rumbling noise, like an ill-discharged platoon of musketry; and about +the same time, the inhabitants of Krakhut, fourteen miles from Benares, +saw the light, heard an explosion, and immediately after the noise of +heavy bodies falling in the neighborhood. The sky had previously been +serene, and not the smallest vestige of a cloud had appeared for many +days. Next morning, the mould in the fields was found to have been +turned up in many spots; and unusual stones, of various sizes, but of +the same substance, were picked out from the moist soil, generally from +a depth of six inches. As the occurrence took place in the night, after +the people had retired to rest, the explosion and the actual fall of the +stones were not observed; but the watchman of an English gentleman, near +Krakhut, brought him a stone the next morning, which had fallen through +the top of his hut, and buried itself in the earthen floor. This event +in India was followed, in the year 1803, by a convincing demonstration +in France, which compelled the eminent men of the capital to believe, +though much against their will. On Tuesday, April 26th, about one in the +afternoon, the weather being serene, there was observed in a part of +Normandy, including Caen, Falaise, Alençon, and a large number of +villages, a fiery globe of great brilliancy moving in the atmosphere +with great rapidity. Some moments after, there was heard in L’Aigle and +in the environs, to the extent of more than thirty leagues in every +direction, a violent explosion, which lasted five or six minutes. At +first there were three or four reports, like those of a cannon, followed +by a kind of discharge which resembled the firing of musketry; after +which there was heard a rumbling like the beating of a drum. The air was +calm, and the sky serene, except a few clouds, such as are frequently +observed. The noise proceeded from a small cloud which had a rectangular +form, and appeared motionless all the time that the phenomenon lasted. +The vapor of which it was composed was projected in all directions at +the successive explosions. The cloud seemed about half a league to the +northeast of the town of L’Aigle, and must have been at a great +elevation in the atmosphere, for the inhabitants of two hamlets, a +league distant from each other, saw it at the same time above their +heads. In the whole canton over which it hovered, a hissing noise like +that of a stone discharged from a sling was heard, and a multitude of +mineral masses were seen to fall to the ground. The largest that fell +weighed 17-1/2 pounds; and the gross number amounted to nearly three +thousand. By the direction of the Academy of Sciences, all the +circumstances of this event were minutely examined by a commission of +inquiry, with the celebrated M. Biot at its head. They were found in +harmony with the preceding relation, and reported to the French minister +of the interior. Upon analyzing the stones, they were found identical +with those of Benares.</p> + +<p>The following are the principal facts with reference to the aërolites, +upon which general dependence may be placed. Immediately after their +descent they are always intensely hot. They are covered with a fused +black incrustation, consisting chiefly of oxide of iron; and, what is +most remarkable, their chemical analysis develops the same substances in +nearly the same proportions, though one may have reached the earth in +India and another in England. Their specific gravities are about the +same; considering 1000 as the proportionate number for the specific +gravity of water, that of some of the aërolites has been found to be,</p> +<div class="indent"> +<p>Ensisheim stone<span class="rtcol">3233</span><br /> +Benares<span class="rtcol">3352</span><br /> +Sienna<span class="rtcol">3418</span><br /> +Gassendi’s<span class="rtcol">3456</span><br /> +Yorkshire<span class="rtcol">3508</span><br /> +Bachelay’s<span class="rtcol">3535</span><br /> +Bohemia<span class="rtcol">4281</span></p> +</div> +<p>The greater specific gravity of the Bohemian stone arose from its +containing a greater proportion of iron. An analysis of one of the +stones that fell at L’Aigle gives:</p> +<div class="indent"> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> +Silica<span class="rtcol">46 per cent</span><br /> +Magnesia<span class="rtcol">10 ”</span><br /> +Iron<span class="rtcol">45 ”</span><br /> +Nickel<span class="rtcol"> 2 ”</span><br /> +Sulphur<span class="rtcol"> 5 ”</span><br /> +Zinc<span class="rtcol"> 1 ”</span></p> +</div> +<p>Iron is found in all these bodies, and in a considerable quantity, with +the rare metal nickel. It is a singular fact, that though a chemical +examination of their composition has not discovered any substance with +which we were not previously acquainted, yet no other bodies have yet +been found, native to the earth, which contain the same ingredients +combined. Neither products of the volcanoes, whether extinct or in +action, nor the stratified or unstratified rocks, have exhibited a +sample of that combination of metallic and earthy substances which the +meteoric stones present. During the era that science has admitted their +path to the earth as a physical truth, scarcely amounting to half a +century, few years have elapsed without a known instance of descent +occurring in some region of the globe. To Izarn’s list, previously +given, upward of seventy cases might be added, which have transpired +during the last forty years. A report relating to one of the most +recent, which fell in a valley near the Cape of Good Hope, with the +affidavits of the witnesses, was communicated to the Royal Society, by +Sir John Herschel, in March, 1840. Previously to the descent of the +aërolites, the usual sound of explosion was heard, and some of the +fragments falling upon grass, caused it instantly to smoke, and were too +hot to admit of being touched. When, however, we consider the wide range +of the ocean, and the vast unoccupied regions of the globe, its +mountains, deserts, and forests, we can hardly fail to admit that the +observed cases of descent must form but a small proportion of the actual +number; and obviously in countries upon which the human race are thickly +planted many may escape notice through descending in the night, and will +lie imbedded in the soil till some accidental circumstance exposes their +existence. Some, too, are no doubt completely fused and dissipated in +the atmosphere, while others move by us horizontally, as brilliant +lights, and pass into the depths of space. The volume of some of these +passing bodies is very great. One which traveled within twenty-five +miles of the surface, and cast down a fragment, was suppose to weigh +upward of half a million of tons. But for its great velocity, the whole +mass would have been precipitated to the earth. Two aërolites fell at +Braunau, in Bohemia, July 14, 1847.</p> + +<p>In addition to aërolites, properly so called, or bodies known to have +come to us from outlying space, large metallic masses exist in various +parts of the world, lying in insulated situations, far remote from the +abodes of civilization, whose chemical composition is closely analogous +to that of the substances the descent of which has been witnessed. These +circumstances leave no doubt as to their common origin. Pallas +discovered an immense mass of malleable iron, mixed with nickel, at a +considerable elevation on a mountain of slate in Siberia, a site plainly +irreconcilable with the supposition of art having been there with its +forges, even had it possessed the character of the common iron. In one +of the rooms of the British Museum there is a specimen of a large mass +which was found, and still remains, on the plain of Otumba, in the +district of Buenos Ayres. The specimen alone weighs 1400 lbs., and the +weight of the whole mass, which lies half buried in the ground, is +computed to be thirteen tons. In the province of Bahia, in Brazil, +another block has been discovered weighing upward of six tons. +Considering the situation of these masses, with the details of their +chemical analysis, the presumption is clearly warranted that they owe +their origin to the same causes that have formed and projected the +aërolites to the surface. With reference to the Siberian iron a general +tradition prevails among the Tartars that it formerly descended from the +heavens. A curious extract, translated from the Emperor Tchangire’s +memoirs of his own reign is given in a paper communicated to the Royal +Society, which speaks of the fall of a metallic mass in India. The +prince relates, that in the year 1620 (of our era) a violent explosion +was heard at a village in the Punjaub, and at the same time a luminous +body fell through the air on the earth. The officer of the district +immediately repaired to the spot where it was said the body fell, and +having found the place to be still hot, he caused it to be dug. He found +that the heat kept increasing till they reached a lump of iron violently +hot. This was afterward sent to court, where the emperor had it weighed +in his presence, and ordered it to be forged into a sabre, a knife, and +a dagger. After a trial the workmen reported that it was not malleable, +but shivered under the hammer; and it required to be mixed with one +third part of common iron, after which the mass was found to make +excellent blades. The royal historian adds, that on the incident of this +<em>iron of lightning</em> being manufactured, a poet presented him with a +distich that, “during his reign the earth attained order and regularity; +that raw iron fell from lightning, which was, by his world-subduing +authority, converted into a dagger, a knife, and two sabres.”</p> + +<p>A multitude of theories have been devised to account for the origin of +these remarkable bodies. The idea is completely inadmissible that they +are concretions formed within the limits of the atmosphere. The +ingredients that enter into their composition have never been discovered +in it, and the air has been analyzed at the sea level and on the tops of +high mountains. Even supposing that to have been the case, the enormous +volume of atmospheric air so charged required to furnish the particles +of a mass of several tons, not to say many masses, is, alone, sufficient +to refute the notion. They can not, either, be projectiles from +terrestrial volcanoes, because coincident volcanic activity has not been +observed, and aërolites descend thousands of miles apart from the +nearest volcano, and their substances are discordant with any known +volcanic product. Laplace suggested their projection from lunar +volcanoes. It has been calculated that a projectile leaving the lunar +surface, where there is no atmospheric resistance, with a veloc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span>ity of +7771 feet in the first second, would be carried beyond the point where +the forces of the earth and the moon are equal, would be detached, +therefore, from the satellite, and come so far within the sphere of the +earth’s attraction as necessarily to fall to it. But the enormous number +of ignited bodies that have been visible, the shooting stars of all +ages, and the periodical meteoric showers that have astonished the +moderns, render this hypothesis untenable, for the moon, ere this, would +have undergone such a waste as must have sensibly diminished her orb, +and almost blotted her from the heavens. Olbers, was the first to prove +the possibility of a projectile reaching us from the moon, but at the +same he deemed the event highly improbable, regarding the satellite as a +very peaceable neighbor, not capable now of strong explosions from the +want of water and an atmosphere. The theory of Chladni will account +generally for all the phenomena, be attended with the fewest +difficulties, and, with some modifications to meet circumstances not +known in his day, it is now widely embraced. He conceived the system to +include an immense number of small bodies, either the scattered +fragments of a larger mass, or original accumulations of matter, which, +circulating round the sun, encounter the earth in its orbit, and are +drawn toward it by attraction, become ignited upon entering the +atmosphere, in consequence of their velocity, and constitute the +shooting stars, aërolites, and meteoric appearances that are observed. +Sir Humphry Davy, in a paper which contains his researches on flame, +strongly expresses an opinion that the meteorites are solid bodies +moving in space, and that the heat produced by the compression of the +most rarefied air from the velocity of their motion must be sufficient +to ignite their mass so that they are fused on entering the atmosphere. +It is estimated that a body moving through our atmosphere with the +velocity of one mile in a second, would extricate heat equal to 30,000° +of Fahrenheit—a heat more intense than that of the fiercest artificial +furnace that ever glowed. The chief modification given to the Chladnian +theory has arisen from the observed periodical occurrence of meteoric +showers—a brilliant and astonishing exhibition—to some notices of +which we proceed.</p> + +<p>The writers of the middle ages report the occurrence of the stars +falling from heaven in resplendent showers among the physical +appearances of their time. The experience of modern days establishes the +substantial truth of such relations, however once rejected as the +inventions of men delighting in the marvelous. Conde, in his history of +the dominion of the Arabs, states, referring to the month of October in +the year 902 of our era, that on the night of the death of King Ibrahim +ben Ahmed, an infinite number of falling stars were seen to spread +themselves like rain over the heavens from right to left, and this year +was afterward called the year of stars. In some Eastern annals of Cairo, +it is related that “In this year (1029 of our era) in the month Redjeb +(August) many stars passed, with a great noise, and brilliant light;” +and in another place the same document states: “In the year 599, on +Saturday night, in the last Moharrem (1202 of our era, and on the 19th +of October), the stars appeared like waves upon the sky, toward the east +and west; they flew about like grasshoppers, and were dispersed from +left to right; this lasted till day-break; the people were alarmed.” The +researches of the Orientalist, M. Von Hammer, have brought these +singular accounts to light. Theophanes, one of the Byzantine historians, +records, that in November of the year 472 the sky appeared to be on fire +over the city of Constantinople with the coruscations of flying meteors. +The chronicles of the West agree with those of the East in reporting +such phenomena. A remarkable display was observed on the 4th of April, +1095, both in France and England. The stars seemed, says one, “falling +like a shower of rain from heaven upon the earth;” and in another case, +a bystander, having noted the spot where an aërolite fell, “cast water +upon it, which was raised in steam, with a great noise of boiling.” The +chronicle of Rheims describes the appearance, as if all the stars in +heaven were driven like dust before the wind. “By the reporte of the +common people, in this kynge’s time (William Rufus),” says Rastel, +“divers great wonders were sene—and therefore the king was told by +divers of his familiars, that God was not content with his lyvyng, but +he was so wilful and proude of minde, that he regarded little their +saying.” There can be no hesitation now in giving credence to such +narrations as these, since similar facts have passed under the notice of +the present generation.</p> + +<p>The first grand phenomena of a meteoric shower which attracted attention +in modern times was witnessed by the Moravian Missionaries at their +settlements in Greenland. For several hours the hemisphere presented a +magnificent and astonishing spectacle, that of fiery particles, thick as +hail, crowding the concave of the sky, as though some magazine of +combustion in celestial space was discharging its contents toward the +earth. This was observed over a wide extent of territory. Humboldt, then +traveling in South America, accompanied by M. Bonpland, thus speaks of +it: “Toward the morning of the 13th November, 1799, we witnessed a most +extraordinary scene of shooting meteors. Thousands of bodies and falling +stars succeeded each other during four hours. Their direction was very +regular from north to south. From the beginning of the phenomenon there +was not a space in the firmament equal in extent to three diameters of +the moon which was not filled every instant with bodies of falling +stars. All the meteors left luminous traces or phosphorescent bands +behind them, which lasted seven or eight seconds.” An agent of the +United States, Mr. Ellicott, at that time at sea between Cape Florida +and the West India Islands, was another spectator, and thus describes +the scene:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> “I was called up about three o’clock in the morning, to see +the shooting stars, as they are called. The phenomenon was grand and +awful The whole heavens appeared as if illuminated with sky-rockets, +which disappeared only by the light of the sun after daybreak. The +meteors, which at any one instant of time appeared as numerous as the +stars, flew in all possible directions, except from the earth, toward +which they all inclined more or less; and some of them descended +perpendicularly over the vessel we were in, so that I was in constant +expectation of their falling on us.” The same individual states that his +thermometer, which had been at 80° Fahr. for four days preceding, fell +to 56°, and, at the same time, the wind changed from the south to the +northwest, from whence it blew with great violence for three days +without intermission. The Capuchin missionary at San Fernando, a village +amid the savannahs of the province of Varinas, and the Franciscan monks +stationed near the entrance of the Oronoco, also observed this shower of +asteroids, which appears to have been visible, more or less, over an +area of several thousand miles, from Greenland to the equator, and from +the lonely deserts of South America to Weimar in Germany. About thirty +years previous, at the city of Quito, a similar event occurred. So great +a number of falling stars were seen in a part of the sky above the +volcano of Cayambaro, that the mountain itself was thought at first to +be on fire. The sight lasted more than an hour. The people assembled in +the plain of Exida, where a magnificent view presented itself of the +highest summits of the Cordilleras. A procession was already on the +point of setting out from the convent of Saint Francis, when it was +perceived that the blaze on the horizon was caused by fiery meteors, +which ran along the sky in all directions, at the altitude of twelve or +thirteen degrees. In Canada, in the years 1814 and 1819, the stellar +showers were noticed, and in the autumn of 1818 on the North Sea, when, +in the language of one of the observers, the surrounding atmosphere +seemed enveloped in one expansive ocean of fire, exhibiting the +appearance of another Moscow in flames. In the former cases, a residiuum +of dust was deposited upon the surface of the waters, on the roofs of +buildings, and on other objects. The deposition of particles of matter +of a ruddy color has frequently followed the descent of aërolites—the +origin of the popular stories of the sky having rained blood. The next +exhibition upon a great scale of the falling stars occurred on the 13th +of November, 1831, and was seen off the coasts of Spain and in the Ohio +country. This was followed by another in the ensuing year at exactly the +same time. Captain Hammond, then in the Red Sea, off Mocha, in the ship +Restitution, gives the following account of it; “From one o’clock A.M. +till after daylight, there was a very unusual phenomenon in the heavens. +It appeared like meteors bursting in every direction. The sky at the +time was clear, and the stars and moon bright, with streaks of light and +thin white clouds interspersed in the sky. On landing in the morning, I +inquired of the Arabs if they had noticed the above. They said they had +been observing it most of the night. I asked them if ever the like had +appeared before? The oldest of them replied it had not.” The shower was +witnessed from the Red Sea westward to the Atlantic, and from +Switzerland to the Mauritius.</p> + +<p>We now come to by far the most splendid display on record; which, as it +was the third in successive years, and on the same day of the month as +the two preceding, seemed to invest the meteoric showers with a +periodical character; and hence originated the title of the November +meteors. The chief scene of the exhibition was included within the +limits of the longitude of 61° in the Atlantic Ocean, and that of 100° +in Central Mexico, and from the North American lakes to the West Indies. +Over this wide area, an appearance presented itself, far surpassing in +grandeur the most imposing artificial fire-works. An incessant play of +dazzlingly brilliant luminosities was kept up in the heavens for several +hours. Some of these were of considerable magnitude and peculiar form. +One of large size remained for some time almost stationary in the +zenith, over the Falls of Niagara, emitting streams of light. The wild +dash of the waters, as contrasted with the fiery uproar above them, +formed a scene of unequaled sublimity. In many districts, the mass of +the population were terror-struck, and the more enlightened were awed at +contemplating so vivid a picture of the Apocalyptic image—that of the +stars of heaven falling to the earth, even as a fig-tree casting her +untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. A planter of South +Carolina, thus describes the effect of the scene upon the ignorant +blacks: <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span>“I was suddenly awakened by the most distressing cries that ever +fell on my ears. Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy I could hear from +most of the negroes of three plantations, amounting in all to about six +or eight hundred. While earnestly listening for the cause, I heard a +faint voice near the door calling my name. I arose, and taking my sword, +stood at the door. At this moment, I heard the same voice still +beseeching me to rise, and saying, ‘O my God, the world is on fire!’ I +then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most +—the awfulness of the scene, or the distressed cries of the negroes. +Upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground—some speechless, and +some with the bitterest cries, but with their hands raised, imploring +God to save the world and them. The scene was truly awful; for never did +rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell toward the earth; east, +west, north, and south, it was the same.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_04.png" width="600" height="485" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_05.png" width="600" height="386" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>This extraordinary spectacle commenced a little before midnight, and +reached its height between four and six o’clock in the morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> The +night was remarkably fine. Not a cloud obscured the firmament. Upon +attentive observation, the materials of the shower were found to exhibit +three distinct varieties:—1. Phosphoric lines formed one class +apparently described by a point. These were the most abundant. They +passed along the sky with immense velocity, as numerous as the flakes of +a sharp snow-storm. 2. Large fire-balls formed another constituency of +the scene. These darted forth at intervals along the arch of the sky, +describing an arc of 30° or 40° in a few seconds. Luminous trains marked +their path, which remained in view for a number of minutes, and in some +cases for half an hour or more. The trains were commonly white, but the +various prismatic colors occasionally appeared, vividly and beautifully +displayed. Some of these fire-balls, or shooting-stars, were of enormous +size. Dr. Smith of North Carolina observed one which appeared larger +than the full moon at the horizon. “I was startled,” he remarks, “by the +splendid light in which the surrounding scene was exhibited, rendering +even small objects quite visible.” The same, or a similar luminous body, +seen at New Haven, passed off in a northwest direction, and exploded +near the star Capella. 3. Another class consisted of luminosities of +irregular form, which remained nearly stationary for a considerable +time, like the one that gleamed aloft over the Niagara Falls. The +remarkable circumstance is testified by every witness, that all the +luminous bodies, without a single exception, moved in lines, which +converged in one and the same point of the heavens; a little to the +southeast of the zenith. They none of them started from this point, but +their direction, to whatever part of the horizon it might be, when +traced backward, led to a common focus. Conceive the centre of the +diagram to be nearly overhead, and a proximate idea may be formed of the +character of the scene, and the uniform radiation of the meteors from +the same source. The position of this radiant point among the stars was +near γ Leonis. It remained stationary with respect to the stars +during the whole of the exhibition. Instead of accompanying the earth in +its diurnal motion eastward, it attended the stars in their apparent +movement westward. The source of the meteoric shower was thus +independent of the earth’s rotation, and this shows its position to have +been in the regions of space exterior to our atmosphere. According to +the American Professor, Dr. Olmsted, it could not have been less than +2238 miles above the earth’s surface.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_6.png" width="600" height="457" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The attention of astronomers in Europe, and all over the world, was, as +may be imagined, strongly roused by intelligence of this celestial +display on the western continent; and as the occurrence of a meteoric +shower had now been observed for three years successively, at a +coincident era, it was inferred that a return of this fiery hail-storm +might be expected in succeeding Novembers. Arrangements were therefore +made to watch the heavens on the nights of the 12th and 13th in the +following years at the principal observatories; and though no such +imposing spectacle as that of 1833 has been witnessed, yet extraordinary +flights of shooting stars have been observed in various places at the +periodic time, tending also from a fixed point in the constellation Leo. +They were seen in Europe and America on November 13th, 1834. The +following results of simultaneous observation were obtained by Arago +from different parts of France on the nights of November 12th and 13th, +1830:</p> + +<table id="table2" summary="Meteor sightings in France, November 12th and 13th, +1830"> +<tr><th>Place.</th><th>Meteors.</th></tr> +<tr><td>Paris, at the Observatory</td><td>170</td></tr> +<tr><td>Dieppe</td> <td>36</td></tr> +<tr><td>Arras</td> <td>27</td></tr> +<tr><td>Strasburg</td> <td>85</td></tr> +<tr><td>Von Altimarl</td> <td>75</td></tr> +<tr><td>Angou</td> <td>49</td></tr> +<tr><td>Rochefort</td> <td>23</td></tr> +<tr><td>Havre</td> <td>300</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>On November 12th, 1837, at eight o’clock in the evening, the attention +of observers in various parts of Great Britain was directed to a bright, +luminous body, apparently proceeding from the north, which, after making +a rapid descent, in the manner of a rocket, suddenly burst, and +scattering its particles into various beautiful forms, vanished in the +atmosphere. This was succeeded by others all similar to the first, both +in shape and the manner of its ultimate disappearance. The whole display +terminated at ten o’clock, when dark clouds which continued up to a late +hour, overspread the earth, preventing any further observation. In the +November of 1838, at the same date, the falling stars were abundant at +Vienna: and one of remarkable brilliancy and size, as large as the full +moon in the zenith, was seen on the 13th by M. Verusmor, off Cherburg, +passing in the direction of Cape La Hogue, a long, luminous train +marking its course through the sky. The same year, the non-commissioned +officers in the island of Ceylon were instructed to look out for the +falling stars. Only a few appeared at the usual time; but on the 5th of +December, from nine o’clock till midnight, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> shower was incessant, +and the number defied all attempts at counting them.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_7.png" width="600" height="451" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Professor Olmsted, an eminent man of science, himself an eye-witness of +the great meteoric shower on the American continent, after carefully +collecting and comparing facts, proposed the following theory: The +meteors of November 13th, 1833, emanated from a nebulous body which was +then pursuing its way along with the earth around the sun; that this +body continues to revolve around the sun in an elliptical orbit, but +little inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and having its aphelion +near the orbit of the earth; and finally, that the body has a period of +nearly six months, and that its perihelion is a little within the orbit +of Mercury. The diagram represents the ellipse supposed to be described, +E being the orbit of the earth, M that of Mercury, and N that of the +assumed nebula, its aphelion distance being about 95 millions of miles, +and the perihelion 24 millions. Thus, when in aphelion, the body is +close to the orbit of the earth, and this occurring periodically, when +the earth is at the same time in that part of its orbit, nebulous +particles are attracted toward it by its gravity, and then, entering the +atmosphere, are consumed in it by their concurrent velocities, causing +the appearance of a meteoric shower. The parent body is inferred to be +nebular, because, though the meteors fall toward the earth with +prodigious velocity, few, if any, appear to have reached the surface. +They were stopped by the resistance of the air and dissipated in it, +whereas, if they had possessed any considerable quantity of matter, the +momentum would have been sufficient to have brought them down in some +instances to the earth. Arago has suggested a similar theory, that of a +stream or group of innumerable bodies, comparatively small, but of +various dimensions, sweeping round the solar focus in an orbit which +periodically cuts that of the earth. These two theories are in substance +the Chladnian hypothesis, first started to explain the observed actual +descent of aërolites. Though great obscurity rests upon the subject, the +fact may be deemed certain that independently of the great planets and +satellites of the system, there are vast numbers of bodies circling +round the sun, both singly and in groups, and probably an extensive +nebula, contact with which causes the phenomena of shooting stars, +aërolites, and meteoric showers. But admitting the existence of such +bodies to be placed beyond all doubt, the question of their origin, +whether original accumulations of matter, old as the planetary orbs, or +the dispersed trains of comets, or the remains of a ruined world, is a +point beyond the power of the human understanding to reach.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_8.png" width="600" height="575" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_FIVE_DAYS_TOUR_IN_THE_ODENWALD" id="A_FIVE_DAYS_TOUR_IN_THE_ODENWALD"></a>A FIVE DAYS’ TOUR IN THE ODENWALD.</h2> + +<h3>A SKETCH OF GERMAN LIFE.</h3> + +<h3>BY WILLIAM HOWITT.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> Odenwald, or Forest of Odin, is one of the most primitive districts +of Germany. It consists of a hilly, rather than a mountainous district, +of some forty miles in one direction, and thirty in another. The +beautiful Neckar bounds it on the south; on the west it is terminated by +the sudden descent of its hills into the great Rhine plain. This +boundary is well known by the name of the Bergstrasse, or mountain road; +which road, however, was at the foot of the mountains, and not over +them, as the name would seem to imply. To English travelers, the beauty +of this Bergstrasse is familiar. The hills, continually broken into by +openings into romantic valleys, slope rapidly down to the plain, covered +with picturesque vineyards; and at their feet lie antique villages, and +the richly-cultivated plains of the Rhine, here thirty or forty miles +wide. On almost every steep and projecting hill, or precipitous cliff, +stands a ruined castle, each, as throughout Germany, with its wild +history, its wilder traditions, and local associations of a hundred +kinds. The railroad from Frankfort to Heidelberg now runs along the +Bergstrasse, and will ever present to the eyes of travelers the charming +aspect of these old legendary hills; till the enchanting valley of the +Neckar, with Heidelberg reposing amid its lovely scenery at its mouth, +terminates the Bergstrasse, and the hills which stretch onward, on the +way toward Carlsruhe, assume another name.</p> + +<p>Every one ascending the Rhine from Mayence to Mannheim has been struck +with the beauty of these Odenwald hills, and has stood watching that +tall white tower on the summit of one of them, which, with windings of +the river, seem now brought near, and then again thrown very far off; +seemed to watch and haunt you, and, for many hours, to take short cuts +to meet you, till, at length, like a giant disappointed of his prey, it +glided away into the gray distance, and was lost in the clouds. This is +the tower of Melibocus, above the village of Auerbach, to which we shall +presently ascend, in order to take our first survey of this old and +secluded haunt of Odin.</p> + +<p>This quiet region of hidden valleys and deep forests extends from the +borders of the Black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span> Forest, which commences on the other side of the +Neckar, to the Spessart, another old German forest; and in the other +direction, from Heidelberg and Darmstadt, toward Heilbronn. It is full +of ancient castles, and a world of legends. In it stands, besides the +Melibocus, another tower, on a still loftier point, called the +Katzenbuckel, which overlooks a vast extent of these forest hills. Near +this lies Eberbach, a castle of the descendants of Charlemagne, which we +shall visit; the scenes of the legend of the Wild Huntsman; the castles +of Götz von Berlichingen, and many another spot familiar by its fame to +our minds from childhood. But besides this, the inhabitants are a people +living in a world of their own; retaining all the simplicity of their +abodes and habits; and it is only in such a region that you now +recognize the pictures of German life such as you find them in the <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Haus +Märchen</span> of the brothers Grimm.</p> + +<p>In order to make ourselves somewhat acquainted with this interesting +district, Mrs. Howitt and myself, with knapsack on back, set out at the +end of August, 1841, to make a few days’ ramble on foot through it. The +weather, however, proved so intensely hot, and the electrical sultriness +of the woods so oppressive, that we only footed it one day, when we were +compelled to make use of a carriage, much to our regret.</p> + +<p>On the last day in August we drove with a party of friends, and our +children, to Weinheim; rambled through its vineyards, ascended to its +ancient castle, and then went on to Birkenau Thal, a charming valley, +celebrated, as its name denotes, for its lovely hanging birches, under +which, with much happy mirth, we dined.</p> + +<p>Scrambling among the hills, and winding up the dry footpaths, among the +vineyards of this neighborhood, we were yet more delighted with the +general beauty of the scenery, and with the wild-flowers which every +where adorned the hanging cliffs and warm waysides. The marjorum stood +in ruddy and fragrant masses; harebells and campanulas of several kinds, +that are cultivated in our gardens, with bells large and clear; crimson +pinks; the Michaelmas daisy; a plant with a thin, radiated yellow +flower, of the character of an aster; a centaurea of a light purple, +handsomer than any English one; a thistle in the dryest places, +resembling an eryngo, with a thick, bushy top; mulleins, yellow and +white; the wild mignonnette, and the white convolvulus; and clematis +festooning the bushes, recalled the flowery fields and lanes of England, +and yet told us that we were not there. The meadows had also their moist +emerald sward scattered with the grass of Parnassus, and an autumnal +crocus of a particularly delicate lilac.</p> + +<p>At the inn, at the mouth of Birkenau Thal, we proposed to take the +eilwagen as far as Auerbach, but that not arriving, we availed ourselves +of a peasant’s light wicker wagon. The owner was a merry fellow, and had +a particularly spirited black horse; and taking leave of our friends, +after a delightful day, we had a most charming drive to Auerbach, and +one equally amusing, from the conversation of our driver.</p> + +<p>After tea we ascended to Auerbach Castle, which occupies a hill above +the town, still far overtopped, however, by the height of Melibocus. The +view was glorious. The sunset across the great Rhine plain was +magnificent. It diffused over the whole western sky an atmosphere of +intense crimson light, with scattered golden clouds, and surrounded by a +deep violet splendor. The extremities of the plain, from the eye being +dazzled with this central effulgence, lay in a solemn and nearly +impenetrable gloom. The castle in ruins, seen by this light, looked +peculiarly beautiful and impressive. In the court on the wall was an +inscription, purporting that a society in honor of the military career +of the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, in whose territory and in that of +Baden the Odenwald chiefly lies, had here celebrated his birthday in the +preceding July. Round the inscription hung oaken garlands, within each +of which was written the name and date of the battles in which he had +been engaged against the French. An altar of moss and stones stood at a +few yards’ distance in front of these memorials, at which a peasant +living in the tower told us, the field-preacher had delivered an oration +on the occasion.</p> + +<p>In the morning, at five o’clock, we began to ascend the neighboring +heights of Melibocus. It took us an hour and a quarter. The guide +carried my knapsack; and as we went, men came up through different +footpaths in the woods, with hoes on their shoulders. When we arrived +on the top, we found others, and among them some women, accompanied by a +policeman. They were peasants who had been convicted of cutting wood for +fuel in the hills, and were adjudged to pay a penalty, or in default, to +work it out in hoeing and clearing the young plantations for a +proportionate time—a much wiser way than shutting them up in a prison, +where they are of no use either to themselves or the state.</p> + +<p>The view from the tower, eighty feet in height, over the great Rhine +plain, is immense and splendid, including two hundred villages, towns, +and cities. The windings of the magnificent Rhine lie mapped out below +you, and on its banks are seen, as objects of peculiar interest, the +cathedral of Speier, the lofty dome of the Jesuits’ church at Mannheim, +and the four towers of the noble cathedral of Worms. In the remote +distance, as a fitting termination to this noble landscape, are seen the +heights of the Donnersberg, the Vosges, and the Schwarzwald.</p> + +<p>The policeman, who followed us up into the tower, mentioned the time +when the inhabitants of that district had hastened thither to watch the +approach of the French armies, and pointed out the spot where they were +first seen, and described their approach, and the terrors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span> and anxieties +of the people, in the most lively and touching manner.</p> + +<p>The wind was strong on this lofty height, and the rattling of the +shutters in the look-out windows in the tower, and of their fastenings, +would have been dismal enough on a stormy night, and gave quite a +wildness to it even then. The view over the Odenwald was beautiful. Half +covered with wood, as far as you could see, with green, winding straths +between them, distant castles, and glimpses of the white walls of +low-lying dorfs or villages, it gave you an idea of a region at once +solitary and attractive. The whole was filled with the cheerful light of +morning, and the wooded hills looked of the most brilliant green. We +descended, and pursued our way through the forest glades with that +feeling of enjoyment which the entrance into an unknown region, pleasant +companionship, and fine weather, inspire. When we issued from the woods +which clothe the sides of Melibocus, we sate down on the heathy turf, +and gazed with a feeling of ever-youthful delight on the scene around +us. Above us, and over its woods, rose the square white tower of +Melibocus; below, lay green valleys, from among whose orchards issued +the smoke of peaceful cottages; and beyond, rose hills covered with +other woods, with shrouded spots, the legends of which had reached us in +England, and had excited the wonder of our early days—the castle of the +Wild Huntsman—the traditions of the followers of Odin—and the +strongholds of many an iron-clad knight, as free to seize the goods of +his neighbors as he was strong to take and keep them. Now all was +peaceful and Arcadian. We met, as we descended into the valley, young +women coming up with their cows, and a shepherd with a mixed flock of +sheep and swine. He had a belt around him, to which hung a chain, +probably to fasten a cow to, as we afterward saw cows so secured.</p> + +<p>We found the cottages, in the depths of the valleys, among their +orchards, just those heavy, old-fashioned sort of things that we see in +German engravings; buildings of wood-framing, the plaster panels of +which were painted in various ways, and the windows of those circular +and octagon panes which, from old association, always seem to belong to +German cottages, just such as that in which the old witch lived in +<cite>Grimm’s <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Kinder und Haus Märchen</span></cite>; and in the <cite>Folk Sagor</cite> of Sweden and +Norway. There were, too, the large ovens built out of doors and roofed +over, such as the old giantess, <span class="for" lang="sv" xml:lang="sv">Käringen som vardt stekt i ugnen</span>, was +put into, according to German and Scandinavian legends. The people were +of the simplest character and appearance. We seemed at once to have +stepped out of modern times into the far-past ages. We saw several +children sitting on a bench in the open air, near a school-house, +learning their lessons, and writing on their slates; and we wept into +the school.</p> + +<p>The schoolmaster was a man befitting the place; simple, rustic, and +devout. He told us that the boys and girls, of which his school was +full, came, some of them, from a considerable distance. They came in at +six o’clock in the morning and staid till eight, had an hour’s rest, and +then came in till eleven, when they went home, and did not return again +till the next morning, being employed the rest of the day in helping +their parents; in going into the woods for fuel; into the fields to +glean, tend cattle, cut grass, or do what was wanted. All the barefooted +children of every village, how ever remote, thus acquire a tolerable +education, learning singing as a regular part of it. They have what they +call their <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sing-Stunde</span>, singing lesson, every day. On a black board +the <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Lied</span>, song, or hymn for the day, was written in German character +in chalk; and the master, who was naturally anxious to exhibit the +proficiency of his scholars, gave them their singing lesson while we +were there. The scene was very interesting in itself; but there was +something humiliating to our English minds, to think that in the +Odenwald, a portion of the great Hyrcanian forest, a region associating +itself with all that is wild and obscure, every child of every hamlet +and cottage, however secluded, was provided with that instruction which +the villages of England are in a great measure yet destitute of. But +here the peasants are not, as with us, totally cut off from property in +the soil which they cultivate; totally dependent on the labor afforded +by others; on the contrary, they are themselves the possessors. This +country is, in fact, in the hands of the people. It is all parceled out +among the multitude; and, wherever you go, instead of the great halls, +vast parks, and broad lands of the few, you see perpetual evidences of +an agrarian system. Except the woods, the whole land is thrown into +small allotments, and upon them the people are laboring busily for +themselves.</p> + +<p>Here, in the Odenwald, the harvest, which in the great Rhine plain was +over in July, was now, in great measure, cut. Men, women, and children, +were all engaged in cutting it, getting it in, or in tending the cattle. +Everywhere stood the simple wagons of the country with their pair of +yoked cows. Women were doing all sorts of work; reaping, and mowing, and +threshing with the men. They were without shoes and stockings, clad in a +simple, dark-blue petticoat; a body of the same, leaving the white +chemise sleeves as a pleasing contrast; and their hair, in some +instances, turned up under their little black or white caps; in others +hanging wild and sunburnt on their shoulders. The women, old and young, +work as hard as the men, at all kinds of work, and yet with right +good-will, for they work for themselves. They often take their dinners +with them to the fields, frequently giving the lesser children a piece +of bread each, and locking them up in their cottages till they return. +This would be thought a hard life in England; but hard as it is, it is +better than the degradation of agricultural laborers, in a dear country +like England, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span> six or eight shillings a week, and no cow, no pig, +no fruit for the market, no house, garden, or field of their own; but, +on the contrary, constant anxiety, the fear of a master on whom they are +constantly dependent, and the desolate prospect of ending their days in +a union work-house.</p> + +<p>Each German has his house, his orchard, his road-side trees, so laden +with fruit, that if he did not carefully prop up, and tie together, and +in many places hold the boughs together with wooden clamps, they would +be torn asunder by their own weight. He has his corn-plot, his plot for +mangel-wurzel or hay, for potatoes, for hemp, etc. He is his own master, +and he therefore, and every branch of his family, have the strongest +motives for constant exertion. You see the effect of this in his +industry and his economy.</p> + +<p>In Germany, nothing is lost. The produce of the trees and the cows is +carried to market. Much fruit is dried for winter use. You see wooden +trays of plums, cherries, and sliced apples, lying in the sun to dry. +You see strings of them hanging from their chamber windows in the sun. +The cows are kept up for the greater part of the year, and every green +thing is collected for them. Every little nook where the grass prows by +roadside, and river, and brook, is carefully cut with the sickle, and +carried home, on the heads of women and children, in baskets, or tied in +large cloths. Nothing of any kind that can possibly be made of any use +is lost. Weeds, nettles, nay, the very goose-grass which covers waste +places, is cut up and taken for the cows. You see the little children +standing in the streets of the villages, in the streams which generally +run down them, busy washing these weeds before they are given to the +cattle. They carefully collect the leaves of the marsh-grass, carefully +cut their potato tops for them, and even, if other things fail, gather +green leaves from the woodlands. One can not help thinking continually +of the enormous waste of such things in England—of the vast quantities +of grass on banks, by roadsides, in the openings of plantations, in +lanes, in church-yards, where grass from year to year springs and dies, +but which, if carefully cut, would maintain many thousand cows for the +poor.</p> + +<p>To pursue still further this subject of German economy. The very +cuttings of the vines are dried and preserved for winter fodder. The +tops and refuse of the hemp serve as bedding for the cows; nay, even the +rough stalks of the poppies, after the heads have been gathered for oil, +are saved, and all these are converted into manure for the land. When +these are not sufficient, the children are sent into the woods to gather +moss; and all our readers familiar with Germany will remember to have +seen them coming homeward with large bundles of this on their heads. In +autumn, the falling leaves are gathered and stocked for the same +purpose. The fir-cones, which with us lie and rot in the woods, are +carefully collected, and sold for lighting fires.</p> + +<p>In short, the economy and care of the German peasant are an example to +all Europe. He has for years—nay, ages—been doing that, as it regards +agricultural management, to which the British public is but just now +beginning to open its eyes. Time, also, is as carefully economized as +every thing else. They are early risers, as may well be conceived, when +the children, many of whom come from considerable distances, are in +school at six in the morning. As they tend their cattle, or their swine, +the knitting never ceases, and hence the quantities of stockings, and +other household things, which they accumulate, are astonishing.</p> + +<p>We could not help, as often before, being struck in the Odenwald with +the resemblance of the present country and life of the Germans to those +of the ancient Hebrews. Germany, like Judea, is literally a land flowing +with milk and honey: a land of corn, and vine, and oil. The plains are +full of corn; the hill-sides, however stony, are green with vineyards; +and though they have not the olive, they procure vast quantities of oil +from the walnut, the poppy, and the rape. The whole country is parceled +out among its people. There are no hedges, but the landmarks, against +the removal of which the Jewish law so repeatedly and so emphatically +denounces its terrors, alone indicate the boundaries of each man’s +possession. Every where you see the ox and the heifer toiling beneath +the primitive yoke, as in the days of David. The threshing-floor of +Araunah often comes to your mind when you see the different members of a +family—father, mother, brother, and sister, all threshing out their +corn together on the mud floor of their barn; but much more so when you +see them, in the corn-field itself, collect the sheaves into one place, +and treading down the earth into a solid floor, there, in the face of +heaven and fanned by its winds, thresh out on the spot the corn which +has been cut. This we saw continually going forward on the steep slopes +of the Odenwald, ten or a dozen men and women all threshing together. A +whole field is thus soon threshed, the corn being beaten out much more +easily while the ear is crisp with the hot sun.</p> + +<p>Having taken leave of the schoolmaster, his scholars, and his bees, with +whose hives nearly all his house-side was covered, we pursued our way to +the Jägerhaus on the top of the Felsberg, one of the highest hills in +the Odenwald. The day was splendid, with a fine breeze, and all around +was new, cheerful, yet solitary, bright and inspiriting. The peasants in +the harvest-fields, the herds watching their cattle, gave us a passing +salutation, and when within sight of you, took off their hats, even at a +field’s distance. We walked on in great enjoyment, here sitting to look +back on the scenes we had left, or to drink from the glittering waters +that we had to pass.</p> + +<p>Just as we were about to enter the woods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span> again, we met an old woman +slowly wandering on from some cottages among the trees by the wood-side. +She had a leathern belt round her waist, and a cord fastened to it, by +which she led her cow to graze in the thickets and by the foot-path, +while her hands were busy with her knitting. A boy, about seven years +old, was leading a kid by a chain, letting it crop the flowers of the +hawkweed in the grass. The old woman saluted us cheerfully; told us that +the boy’s father was in America, and his mother gone out to service, and +that he was intrusted to her care. Could there be any thing more like a +scene in the old <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Märchen</span>, or less like one in England?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="The_Mysterious_Preacher" id="The_Mysterious_Preacher"></a>[From Howitt’s Country Year-Book.]</p> + +<h2>THE MYSTERIOUS PREACHER.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">In</span> one of those strolls which I have always loved to take into different +and little frequented parts of these kingdoms, I fell in with a +venerable old man, dressed in black, with very white hair, and of a +mild, somewhat melancholy and intelligent look. It was a beautiful scene +where I first encountered him—in a wood, on the banks of a noble river. +I accosted the old man with a remark on the delightfulness of the time +and place; and he replied to my observations with a warmth, and in a +tone, which strongly affected me. I soon found that he was as +enthusiastic a lover of nature as myself—that he had seen many of the +finest portions of the kingdom, and had wandered through them with +Milton or Shakspeare, Herbert or Quarles, in his hand. He was one of +those who, reading with his own eyes and heart, and not through the +spectacles of critics, had not been taught to despise the last old poet, +nor to treat his rich and quaint versification, and his many manly and +noble thoughts, as the conceits and rhymes of a poetaster. His reverence +for the great names of our literature, and his just appreciation of +their works, won upon me greatly. I invited him to continue his walk; +and—so well was I pleased with him—to visit me at my rustic lodgment.</p> + +<p>From that day, for some weeks, we daily walked together. I more and more +contemplated with admiration and esteem the knowledge, the fine taste, +the generous sentiments, the profound love of nature which seemed to +fill the whole being of the old man. But who and whence was he? He said +not a word on that subject, and I did not, therefore, feel freedom to +inquire. He might have secret griefs, which such a query might awaken. I +respect too much the wounded heart of humanity carelessly to probe it, +and especially the heart of a solitary being who, in the downward stage +of life, may, perchance, be the stripped and scathed remnant of a +once-endeared family. He stood before me alone. He entered into +reminiscences, but they were reminiscences connected with no near ties; +but had such ties now existed, he would in some hour of frank enthusiasm +have said so. He did not say it, and it was, therefore, sufficiently +obvious, that he had a history which he left down in the depths of his +heart, beyond the vision of all but that heart itself. And yet, whatever +were the inward memories of this venerable man, there was a buoyancy and +youthfulness of feeling about him which amply manifested that they had +not quenched the love and enjoyment of life in him.</p> + +<p>On different days we took, during the most beautiful spring, strolls of +many miles into distant dales and villages, and on the wild brown moors. +Now we sate by a moorland stream, talking of many absorbing things in +the history of the poetry and the religion of our country, and I could +plainly see that my ancient friend had in him the spirit of an old +Covenanter, and that, had he lived in the days of contest between the +church of kings and the church of God, he would have gone to the field +or the stake for his faith as triumphantly as any martyr of those times. +It was under the influence of one of these conversations that I could +not avoid addressing to the old man the following youthful stanzas, +which, though they may exhibit little poetry, testify to the patriotism +which his language inspired:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span></p> +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">My friend! there have been men<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To whom we turn again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After contemplating the present age,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And long, with vain regret,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That they were living yet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Virtue’s high war triumphantly to wage.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Men whose renown was built<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Not on resplendent guilt—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not through life’s waste, or the abuse of power,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But by the dauntless zeal<br /></span> +<span class="i4">With which at truth’s appeal,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They stood unto the death in some eventful hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">But he who now shall deem,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Because among us seem<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No dubious symptoms of a realm’s decline—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Wealth blind with its excess<br /></span> +<span class="i4">’Mid far-diffused distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pride that kills, professing to refine—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">He who deems hence shall flow<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The utter overthrow<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of this most honored and long happy land,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little knows what there lies<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Even beneath his eyes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slumbering in forms that round about him stand.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">Little knows he the zeal<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Myriads of spirits feel<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In love, pure principle, and knowledge strong;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Little knows he what men<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Tread this dear land again,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whose souls of fire invigorate the throng.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">My friend! I lay with thee<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Beneath the forest tree,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When spring was shedding her first sweets around.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And the bright sky above<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Woke feelings of deep love,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thoughts which traveled through the blue profound.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">I lay, and as I heard—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The joyful faith thus stirred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shot like Heaven’s lightning through my wondering breast<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I heard, and in my thought<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Glory and greatness wrought,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blessing God—my native land I blest.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +</div></div> +<p>Now we entered a village inn, and ate our simple luncheon; and now we +stood in some hamlet lane, or by its mossy well, with a group of +children about us, among whom not a child appeared more child-like or +more delighted than the old man. Nay, as we came back from a fifteen or +twenty miles’ stroll, he would leap over a stile with the activity of a +boy, or run up to a wilding bush, covered with its beautiful pink +blossoms, and breaking off a branch hold it up in admiration, and +declare that it appeared almost sinful for an old man like him to enjoy +himself so keenly. I know not when I more deeply felt the happiness and +the holiness of existence, the wealth of intellect, and the blessings of +our fancies, sympathies, and affection, than I used to do as this +singular stranger sate with me on the turf-seat at the vine-covered end +of the old cottage, which then made my temporary residence, on the +serene evenings of that season, over our rustic tea-table, and with the +spicy breath of the wall-flowers of that little garden breathing around +us, and held conversation on many a subject of moral and intellectual +speculation which then deeply interested me. In some of those evening +hours he at length gave me glimpses into his past existence. Things more +strange and melancholy than I could ever have suspected had passed over +him, and only the more interested me in him.</p> + +<p>Such had been our acquaintance for some months, when, one evening, +happening to be in the neighboring town, and passing through a +densely-populated part of it, I saw a number of people crowding into a +chapel. With my usual curiosity in all that relates to the life, habits, +and opinions of my fellow-men, I entered, and was no little surprised to +behold my ancient friend in the pulpit. As I believed he had not +observed me enter, and as I was desirous to hear my worthy friend, thus +most unexpectedly found in this situation, without attracting his +attention, I therefore seated myself in the shade of a pillar, and +awaited the sermon. My surprise, as I listened to it, was excessive, on +more accounts than one. I was surprised at the intense, fervid, and +picturesque blaze of eloquence that breathed forth from the preacher, +seeming to light up the whole place, and fill it with an unearthly and +cloudy fire. I was more astonished by the singularity and wildness of +the sentiments uttered. I looked again and again at the rapt and +ecstatic preacher. His frame seemed to expand, and to be buoyed up, by +his glowing enthusiasm, above the very height of humanity. His hair, +white as snow, seemed a pale glory burning round his head, and his +countenance, warm with the expression of his entranced spirit, was +molten into the visage of a pleading seraph, who saw the terrors of the +Divinity revealed before him, and felt only that they for whom he +wrestled were around him. <em>They</em> hung upon that awful and unearthly +countenance with an intensity which, in beings at the very bar of +eternal judgment, hanging on the advocacy of an angel, could scarcely +have been exceeded; and when he ceased, and sat down, a sigh, as from +every heart at once, went through the place, which marked the fall of +their rapt imaginations from the high region whither his words and +expressive features had raised them, to the dimness and reality of +earth. I could scarcely persuade myself that this was my late friend of +the woods and fields, and of the evening discourse, so calm and +dispassionate, over our little tea-table.</p> + +<p>I escaped cautiously with the crowd, and eagerly interrogated a man who +passed out near me who was the preacher? He looked at me with an air of +surprise; but seeing me a stranger, he said he thought I could not have +been in those parts long, or I should have known Mr. M——. I then +learned that my venerable acquaintance was one whose name was known far +and wide—known for the strange and fascinating powers of his pulpit +eloquence, and for the peculiarity of his religious views. The +singularity of those notions alone had prevented his becoming one of the +most popular religious orators of his time. They had been the source of +perpetual troubles and persecutions to him, they had estranged from him +the most zealous of his friends from time to time; yet they were such +only as he could lay down at the threshold of Divine judgment; and +still, wherever he went, although they were a root of bitterness to him +in private, he found in public a crowd of eager and enthusiastic +hearers, who hung on his words as if they came at once warm from the +inner courts of heaven.</p> + +<p>The sense of this discovery, and of the whole strange scene of the last +evening, hung powerfully upon me through the following day. I sat on the +bench of my cottage window, with a book in my hand, the greater part of +it, but my thoughts continually reverted to the image of the preacher in +the midst of his audience; when, at evening, in walked the old man with +his usual quiet smile, and shaking me affectionately by the hand, sat +down in a wooden chair opposite me. I looked again and again, but in +vain, to recognize the floating figure and the exalted countenance of +the evening.</p> + +<p>The old man took up my book, and began to read. A sudden impulse seized +me which I have never ceased to regret. I did not wish abruptly to tell +the old man that I had seen him in the pulpit, but I longed to discuss +with him the ground of his peculiar views, and said,</p> + +<p>“What do you think, my friend, of the actual future destiny of the—?”</p> + +<p>I made the question include his peculiar doctrines. He laid down the +volume with a remarkable quickness of action. He gazed at me for a +moment with a look humbled but not confused, such as I had never seen in +him before, and, in a low voice, said,</p> + +<p>“You were then at my chapel last night?”</p> + +<p>“I was,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry—I am sorry,” he said, rising with a sigh. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span>“It has been a +pleasant time, but it is ended. Good-by, my dear young friend, and may +God bless you!”</p> + +<p>He turned silently but quickly away.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” I cried. “Stop!” But he heard or heeded not. I ran to the gate +to lay hold on him, and assure him that his sentiments would not alter +my regard for him, but I observed him already hastening down the lane at +such a speed that I judged it rude and useless at that moment to pursue.</p> + +<p>I went down that day to his lodgings, to assure him of my sentiments +toward him, but door and window were closed, and if he were in he would +not hear me. Early next morning a little ragged boy brought me a note, +saying a gentleman in the lane had given it to him. It simply said:</p> + +<p>“Dear young friend, good-by. You wonder at my abruptness; but my +religion has always been fatal to my friendship. You will say it would +not with you: so has many another assured me; but I am too well schooled +by bitter experience. I have had a call to a distant place. No one knows +of it, and I trust the name to no one. The pleasure of your society has +detained me, or I had obeyed the call a month ago. May we meet in +Heaven! C.M.”</p> + +<p>He was actually gone, and no one knew whither.</p> + +<p>Time had passed over, and I had long imagined this strange and gifted +being in his grave, when in a wild and remote part of the kingdom, the +other day, I accidentally stumbled upon his retreat, and found him in +his pulpit with the same rapt aspect, uttering an harangue as exciting, +and surrounded by an audience as eagerly devouring his words.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Assyrian_Sects" id="Assyrian_Sects"></a>[From Chesney’s Expedition to the Euphrates and Tigris.]</p> + +<h2>ASSYRIAN SECTS.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">There</span> are two remarkable sects, one of which, called the Mendajaha +(disciples of John), is found scattered in small communities in Basrah, +Kurnah, Mohammarah, and, lastly, Sheikh el Shuyukh, where there are +about three hundred families. Those of Basrah are noticed by Pietro de +la Valle who says the Arabs call them Sabeans. Their religion is +evidently a mixture of Paganism, Hebrew, Mohammedan, and Christian. They +profess to regulate their lives by a book called the Sidra, containing +many moral precepts, which, according to tradition, have been handed +down from Adam, through Seth and Enoch; and it is understood to be in +their language (the Chaldee), but written in a peculiar character. They +abhor circumcision, but are very particular in distinguishing between +clean and unclean animals, and likewise in keeping the Sabbath with +extraordinary strictness. The Psalms of David are in use, but they are +held to be inferior to their own book. They abstain from garlic, beans, +and several kinds of pulse, and likewise most carefully from every +description of food between sunrise and sunset during a whole moon +before the vernal equinox; in addition to which, an annual festival is +kept, called the feast of five days. Much respect is entertained for the +city of Mecca, and a still greater reverence for the Pyramids of Egypt, +in one of which they believe that their great progenitor, Saba, son of +Seth, is buried; and to his original residence at Haran they make very +particular pilgrimages, sacrificing on these occasions a ram and a hen. +They pray seven times a day, turning sometimes to the south and +sometimes to the north. But, at the same time, they retain a part of the +ancient worship of the heavenly bodies, adding that of angels, with the +belief that the souls of the wicked are to enjoy a happier state after +nine hundred centuries of suffering. The priests, who are called +sheikhs, or chiefs, use a particular kind of baptism, which, they say, +was instituted by St. John; and the Chaldee language is used in this and +other ceremonies.</p> + +<p>The other religion, that of a more numerous branch, the Yezidis, is, in +some respects, like the Mendajaha, but with the addition of the evil +principle, the exalted doctor, who, as an instrument of the divine will, +is propitiated rather than worshiped, as had been once supposed. The +Yezidis reverence Moses, Christ, and Mohammed, in addition to many of +the saints and prophets held in veneration both by Christians and +Moslems. They adore the sun, as symbolical of Christ, and believe in an +intermediate state after death. The Yezidis of Sinjar do not practice +circumcision, nor do they eat pork; but they freely partake of the blood +of other animals. Their manners are simple, and their habits, both +within and without, remarkable for cleanliness. They are, besides, +brave, hospitable, sober, faithful, and, with the exception of the +Mohammedan, are inclined to tolerate other religions; they are, however, +lamentably deficient in every branch of education. Polygamy is not +permitted, and the tribes intermarry with each other. The families of +the father and sons live under the same roof, and the patriarchal system +is carried out still further, each village being under its own +hereditary chief.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_APPROACH_OF_CHRISTMAS" id="THE_APPROACH_OF_CHRISTMAS"></a>THE APPROACH OF CHRISTMAS.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="cap"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> time draws near the birth of Christ,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The moon is hid, the night is still;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A single church below the hill<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is pealing, folded in the mist<br /></span></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A single peal of bells below,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wakens at this hour of rest<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A single murmur in the breast,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That these are not the bells I know<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Like strangers’ voices here they sound,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In lands where not a memory strays,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor landmark breathes of other days.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But all is new unhallow’d ground.<br /></span> +<span class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Tennyson’s</span> “<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">In Memoriam</span>”.</span> +</div></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span> +<a name="Ugliness_Redeemed" id="Ugliness_Redeemed"></a>[From Dickens’s Household Words.]</p> + +<h2>UGLINESS REDEEMED—A TALE OF A LONDON DUST-HEAP.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">On</span> a murky morning in November, wind northeast, a poor old woman with a +wooden leg was seen struggling against the fitful gusts of the bitter +breeze, along a stony, zig-zag road full of deep and irregular +cart-ruts. Her ragged petticoat was blue, and so was her wretched nose. +A stick was in her left hand, which assisted her to dig and hobble her +way along; and in her other hand, supported also beneath her withered +arm, was a large, rusty, iron sieve. Dust and fine ashes filled up all +the wrinkles in her face; and of these there were a prodigious number, +for she was eighty-three years old. Her name was Peg Dotting.</p> + +<p>About a quarter of a mile distant, having a long ditch and a broken-down +fence as a foreground, there rose against the muddled-gray sky, a huge +dust-heap of a dirty-black color—being, in fact, one of those immense +mounds of cinders, ashes, and other emptyings from dust-holes and bins, +which have conferred celebrity on certain suburban neighborhoods of a +great city. Toward this dusky mountain old Peg Dotting was now making +her way.</p> + +<p>Advancing toward the dust-heap by an opposite path, very narrow and just +reclaimed from the mud by a thick layer of freshly broken flints, there +came at the same time Gaffer Doubleyear, with his bone-bag slung over +his shoulder. The rags of his coat fluttered in the east-wind, which +also whistled keenly round his almost rimless hat, and troubled his one +eye. The other eye, having met with an accident last week, he had +covered neatly with an oyster-shell, which was kept in its place by a +string at each side, fastened through a hole. He used no staff to help +him along, though his body was nearly bent double, so that his face was +constantly turned to the earth, like that of a four-footed creature. He +was ninety-seven years of age.</p> + +<p>As these two patriarchal laborers approached the great dust-heap, a +discordant voice hallooed to them from the top of a broken wall. It was +meant as a greeting of the morning, and proceeded from little Jem +Clinker, a poor deformed lad, whose back had been broken when a child. +His nose and chin were much too large for the rest of his face, and he +had lost nearly all his teeth from premature decay. But he had an eye +gleaming with intelligence and life, and an expression at once patient +and hopeful. He had balanced his misshapen frame on the top of the old +wall, over which one shriveled leg dangled, as if by the weight of a +hob-nailed boot, that covered a foot large enough for a plowman.</p> + +<p>In addition to his first morning’s salutation of his two aged friends, +he now shouted out in a tone of triumph and self-gratulation, in which +he felt assured of their sympathy—“Two white skins, and a +tor’shell-un.”</p> + +<p>It may be requisite to state that little Jem Clinker belonged to the +dead-cat department of the dust-heap, and now announced that a prize of +three skins, in superior condition, had rewarded him for being first in +the field. He was enjoying a seat on the wall in order to recover +himself from the excitement of his good fortune.</p> + +<p>At the base of the great dust-heap the two old people now met their +young friend—a sort of great-grandson by mutual adoption—and they at +once joined the party who had by this time assembled as usual, and were +already busy at their several occupations.</p> + +<p>But besides all these, another individual, belonging to a very different +class, formed a part of the scene, though appearing only on its +outskirts. A canal ran along at the rear of the dust-heap, and on the +banks of its opposite side slowly wandered by—with hands clasped and +hanging down in front of him, and eyes bent vacantly upon his hands—the +forlorn figure of a man in a very shabby great-coat, which had evidently +once belonged to one in the position of a gentleman. And to a gentleman +it still belonged—but in <em>what</em> a position! A scholar, a man of wit, of +high sentiment, of refinement, and a good fortune withal—now by a +sudden “turn of law” bereft of the last only, and finding that none of +the rest, for which (having his fortune) he had been so much admired, +enabled him to gain a livelihood. His title deeds had been lost or +stolen, and so he was bereft of every thing he possessed. He had +talents, and such as would have been profitably available had he known +how to use them for this new purpose; but he did not; he was +misdirected; he made fruitless efforts, in his want of experience; and +he was now starving. As he passed the great dust-heap, he gave one +vague, melancholy gaze that way, and then looked wistfully into the +canal. And he continued to look into the canal as he slowly moved along, +till he was out of sight.</p> + +<p>A dust-heap of this kind is often worth thousands of pounds. The present +one was very large and very valuable. It was in fact a large hill, and +being in the vicinity of small suburb cottages, it rose above them like +a great black mountain. Thistles, groundsel, and rank grass grew in +knots on small parts which had remained for a long time undisturbed; +crows often alighted on its top, and seemed to put on their spectacles +and become very busy and serious; flocks of sparrows often made +predatory descents upon it; an old goose and gander might sometimes be +seen following each other up its side, nearly midway; pigs rooted round +its base, and, now and then, one bolder than the rest would venture some +way up, attracted by the mixed odors of some hidden marrow-bone +enveloped in a decayed cabbage leaf—a rare event, both of these +articles being unusual oversights of the searchers below.</p> + +<p>The principal ingredient of all these dust-heaps is fine cinders and +ashes; but as they are accumulated from the contents of all the +dust-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span>holes and bins of the vicinity, and as many more as possible, the +fresh arrivals in their original state present very heterogeneous +materials. We can not better describe them, than by presenting a brief +sketch of the different departments of the searchers and sorters, who +are assembled below to busy themselves upon the mass of original matters +which are shot out from the carts of the dustmen.</p> + +<p>The bits of coal, the pretty numerous results of accident and servants’ +carelessness, are picked out, to be sold forthwith; the largest and best +of the cinders are also selected, by another party, who sell them to +laundresses, or to braziers (for whose purposes coke would not do so +well); and the next sort of cinders, called the <em>breeze</em>, because it is +left after the wind has blown the finer cinders through an upright +sieve, is sold to the brick-makers.</p> + +<p>Two other departments, called the “soft-ware” and the “hard-ware,” are +very important. The former includes all vegetable and animal +matters—every thing that will decompose. These are selected and bagged +at once, and carried off as soon as possible, to be sold as manure for +ploughed land, wheat, barley, &c. Under this head, also, the dead cats +are comprised. They are, generally, the perquisites of the women +searchers. Dealers come to the wharf, or dust-field, every evening; they +give sixpence for a white cat, fourpence for a colored cat, and for a +black one according to her quality. The “hard-ware” includes all broken +pottery, pans, crockery, earthenware, oyster-shells, &c., which are sold +to make new roads.</p> + +<p>“The bones” are selected with care, and sold to the soap-boiler. He +boils out the fat and marrow first, for special use, and the bones are +then crushed and sold for manure.</p> + +<p>Of “rags,” the woolen rags are bagged and sent off for hop-manure; the +white linen rags are washed, and sold to make paper, &c.</p> + +<p>The “tin things” are collected and put into an oven with a grating at +the bottom, so that the solder which unites the parts melts, and runs +through into a receiver. This is sold separately; the detached pieces of +tin are then sold to be melted up with old iron, &c.</p> + +<p>Bits of old brass, lead, &c., are sold to be melted up separately, or in +the mixture of ores.</p> + +<p>All broken glass vessels, as cruets, mustard-pots, tumblers, +wine-glasses, bottles, &c., are sold to the old-glass shops.</p> + +<p>As for any articles of jewelry, silver-spoons, forks, thimbles, or other +plate and valuables, they are pocketed off-hand by the first finder. +Coins of gold and silver are often found, and many “coppers.”</p> + +<p>Meantime, every body is hard at work near the base of the great +dust-heap. A certain number of cart-loads having been raked and searched +for all the different things just described, the whole of it now +undergoes the process of sifting. The men throw up the stuff, and the +women sift it.</p> + +<p>“When I was a young girl,” said Peg Dotting—</p> + +<p>“That’s a long while ago, Peggy,” interrupted one of the sifters: but +Peg did not hear her.</p> + +<p>“When I was quite a young thing,” continued she, addressing old John +Doubleyear, who threw up the dust into her sieve, “it was the fashion to +wear pink roses in the shoes, as bright as that morsel of ribbon Sally +has just picked out of the dust; yes, and sometimes in the hair, too, on +one side of the head, to set off the white powder and salve-stuff. I +never wore one of these head-dresses myself—don’t throw up the dust so +high, John—but I lived only a few doors lower down from those as <em>did</em>. +Don’t throw up the dust so high, I tell ’ee—the wind takes it into my +face.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! There! What’s that?” suddenly exclaimed little Jem, running as fast +as his poor withered legs would allow him, toward a fresh heap, which +had just been shot down on the wharf from a dustman’s cart. He made a +dive and a search—then another—then one deeper still. “I’m <em>sure</em> I +saw it!” cried he, and again made a dash with both hands into a fresh +place, and began to distribute the ashes, and dust, and rubbish on every +side, to the great merriment of all the rest.</p> + +<p>“What did you see, Jemmy?” asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate +tone.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” said the boy, “only it was like a bit of something +made of real gold!”</p> + +<p>A fresh burst of laughter from the company assembled followed this +somewhat vague declaration, to which the dustmen added one or two +elegant epithets, expressive of their contempt of the notion that <em>they</em> +could have overlooked a bit of any thing valuable in the process of +emptying sundry dust-holes, and carting them away.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said one of the sifters, “poor Jem’s always a-fancying something +or other good—but it never comes.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I find three cats this morning!” cried Jem; “two on ’em white +’uns! How you go on!”</p> + +<p>“I meant something quite different from the like o’ that,” said the +other; “I was a-thinking of the rare sights all you three there have +had, one time and another.”</p> + +<p>The wind having changed and the day become bright, the party at work all +seemed disposed to be more merry than usual. The foregoing remark +excited the curiosity of several of the sifters, who had recently joined +the “company,” the parties alluded to were requested to favor them with +the recital; and though the request was made with only a half-concealed +irony, still it was all in good-natured pleasantry, and was immediately +complied with. Old Doubleyear spoke first.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p><p>“I had a bad night of it with the rats some years ago—they run’d all +over the floor, and over the bed, and one on ’em come’d and guv a squeak +close into my ear—so I couldn’t sleep comfortable. I wouldn’t ha’ +minded a trifle of at; but this was too much of a good thing. So, I got +up before sun-rise, and went out for a walk; and thinking I might as +well be near our work-place, I slowly come’d down this way. I worked in +a brick-field at that time, near the canal yonder. The sun was just +a-rising up behind the dust-heap as I got in sight of it; and soon it +rose above, and was very bright; and though I had two eyes then, I was +obligated to shut them both. When I opened them again, the sun was +higher up; but in his haste to get over the dust-heap, he had dropped +something. You may laugh. I say he had dropped something. Well—I can’t +say what it was, in course—a bit of his-self, I suppose. It was just +like him—a bit on him, I mean—quite as bright—just the same—only not +so big. And not up in the sky, but a-lying and sparkling all on fire +upon the dust-heap. Thinks I—I was a younger man then by some years +than I am now—I’ll go and have a nearer look. Though you be a bit o’ +the sun, maybe you won’t hurt a poor man. So, I walked toward the +dust-heap, and up I went, keeping the piece of sparkling fire in sight +all the while. But before I got up to it, the sun went behind a +cloud—and as he went out-like, so the young ’un he had dropped, went +out after him. And I had my climb up the heap for nothing, though I had +marked the place were it lay very percizely. But there was no signs at +all on him, and no morsel left of the light as had been there. I +searched all about; but found nothing ’cept a bit o’ broken glass as had +got stuck in the heel of an old shoe. And that’s my story. But if ever a +man saw any thing at all, I saw a bit o’ the sun; and I thank God for +it. It was a blessed sight for a poor ragged old man of three score and +ten, which was my age at that time.”</p> + +<p>“Now, Peggy!” cried several voices, “tell us what you saw. Peg saw a bit +o’ the moon.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Mrs. Dotting, rather indignantly; “I’m no moon-raker. Not a +sign of the moon was there, nor a spark of a star—the time I speak on.”</p> + +<p>“Well—go on, Peggy—go on.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I will,” said Peggy.</p> + +<p>But being pacified by a few good-tempered, though somewhat humorous +compliments, she thus favored them with her little adventure:</p> + +<p>“There was no moon, nor stars, nor comet, in the ’versal heavens, nor +lamp nor lantern along the road, when I walked home one winter’s night +from the cottage of Widow Pin, where I had been to tea, with her and +Mrs. Dry, as lived in the almshouses. They wanted Davy, the son of Bill +Davy the milkman, to see me home with the lantern, but I wouldn’t let +him ’cause of his sore throat. Throat!—no, it wasn’t his throat as was +rare sore—it was—no, it wasn’t—yes, it was—it was his toe as was +sore. His big toe. A nail out of his boot had got into it. I <em>told</em> him +he’d be sure to have a bad toe, if he didn’t go to church more regular, +but he wouldn’t listen; and so my words come’d true. But, as I was +a-saying, I wouldn’t let him light me with the lantern by reason of his +sore throat—<em>toe</em>, I mean—and as I went along, the night seemed to +grow darker and darker. A straight road, though, and I was so used to it +by day-time, it didn’t matter for the darkness. Hows’ever, when I come’d +near the bottom of the dust-heap as I had to pass, the great dark heap +was so zackly the same as the night, you couldn’t tell one from t’other. +So, thinks I to myself—<em>what</em> was I thinking of at this moment?—for +the life o’ me I can’t call it to mind; but that’s neither here nor +there, only for this—it was a something that led me to remember the +story of how the devil goes about like a roaring lion. And while I was +a-hoping he might not be out a-roaring that night, what should I see +rise out of one side of the dust-heap, but a beautiful shining star of a +violet color. I stood as still—as stock-still as any I don’t-know-what! +There it lay, as beautiful as a new-born babe, all a-shining in the +dust! By degrees I got courage to go a little nearer—and then a little +nearer still—for, says I to myself, I’m a sinful woman, I know, but I +have repented, and do repent constantly of all the sins of my youth, and +the backslidings of my age—which have been numerous; and once I had a +very heavy backsliding—but that’s neither here nor there. So, as I was +a-saying, having collected all my sinfulness of life, and humbleness +before heaven, into a goodish bit of courage, forward I steps—little +furder—and a leetle furder more—<em>un</em>-til I come’d just up to the +beautiful shining star lying upon the dust. Well, it was a long time I +stood a-looking down at it, before I ventured to do, what I arterwards +did. But <em>at</em> last I did stoop down with both hands slowly—in case it +might burn, or bite—and gathering up a good scoop of ashes as my hands +went along, I took it up, and began a-carrying it home, all shining +before me, and with a soft, blue mist rising up round about it. Heaven +forgive me!—I was punished for meddling with what Providence had sent +for some better purpose than to be carried home by an old woman like me, +whom it has pleased heaven to afflict with the loss of one leg, and the +pain, ixpinse, and inconvenience of a wooden one. Well—I <em>was</em> +punished; covetousness had its reward; for, presently, the violet light +got very pale, and then went out; and when I reached home, still holding +in both hands all I had gathered up, and when I took it to the candle, +it had turned into the red shell of a lobsky’s head, and its two black +eyes poked up at me with a long stare—and I may say, a strong smell +too—enough to knock a poor body down.”</p> + +<p>Great applause, and no little laughter, followed the conclusion of old +Peggy’s story, but she did not join in the merriment. She said it was +all very well for young people to laugh, but at her age she had enough +to do to pray; and she had never said so many prayers, nor with so much +fervency, as she had done since she received the blessed sight of the +blue star<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> on the dust-heap, and the chastising rod of the lobster’s +head at home.</p> + +<p>Little Jem’s turn now came; the poor lad was, however, so excited by the +recollection of what his companions called “Jem’s Ghost,” that he was +unable to describe it in any coherent language. To his imagination it +had been a lovely vision—the one “bright consummate flower” of his +life, which he treasured up as the most sacred image in his heart. He +endeavored, in wild and hasty words, to set forth, how that he had been +bred a chimney-sweep; that one Sunday afternoon he had left a set of +companions, most on ’em sweeps, who were all playing at marbles in the +church-yard, and he had wandered to the dust-heap, where he had fallen +asleep; that he was awoke by a sweet voice in the air, which said +something about some one having lost her way!—that he, being now wide +awake, looked up, and saw with his own eyes a young angel, with fair +hair and rosy cheeks, and large white wings at her shoulders, floating +about like bright clouds, rise out of the dust! She had on a garment of +shining crimson, which changed as he looked upon her to shining gold, +then to purple and gold. She then exclaimed, with a joyful smile, “I see +the right way!” and the next moment the angel was gone.</p> + +<p>As the sun was just now very bright and warm for the time of the year, +and shining full upon the dust-heap in its setting, one of the men +endeavored to raise a laugh at the deformed lad, by asking him if he +didn’t expect to see just such another angel at this minute, who had +lost her way in the field on the other side of the heap; but his jest +failed. The earnestness and devout emotion of the boy to the vision of +reality which his imagination, aided by the hues of sunset, had thus +exalted, were too much for the gross spirit of banter, and the speaker +shrank back into his dust-hovel, and affected to be very assiduous in +his work as the day was drawing to a close.</p> + +<p>Before the day’s work was ended, however, little Jem again had a glimpse +of the prize which had escaped him on the previous occasion. He +instantly darted, hands and head foremost, into the mass of cinders and +rubbish, and brought up a black mass of half-burnt parchment, entwined +with vegetable refuse, from which he speedily disengaged an oval frame +of gold, containing a miniature, still protected by its glass, but half +covered with mildew from the damp. He was in ecstasies at the prize. +Even the white cat-skins paled before it. In all probability some of the +men would have taken it from, him “to try and find the owner,” but for +the presence and interference of his friends Peg Dotting and old +Doubleyear, whose great age, even among the present company, gave them a +certain position of respect and consideration. So all the rest now went +their way, leaving the three to examine and speculate on the prize.</p> + +<p>The dust-heaps are a wonderful compound of things. A banker’s check for +a considerable sum was found in one of them. It was on Herries and +Farquhar, in 1847. But bankers’ checks, or gold and silver articles, are +the least valuable of their ingredients. Among other things, a variety +of useful chemicals are extracted. Their chief value, however, is for +the making of bricks. The fine cinder-dust and ashes are used in the +clay of the bricks, both for the red and gray stacks. Ashes are also +used as fuel between the layers of the clump of bricks, which could not +be burned in that position without them. The ashes burn away, and keep +the bricks open. Enormous quantities are used. In the brick-fields at +Uxbridge, near the Drayton Station, one of the brickmakers alone will +frequently contract for fifteen or sixteen thousand chaldron of this +cinder-dust, in one order. Fine coke or coke-dust, affects the market at +times as a rival; but fine coal, or coal-dust, never, because it would +spoil the bricks.</p> + +<p>As one of the heroes of our tale had been originally—before his +promotion—a chimney-sweeper, it may be only appropriate to offer a +passing word on the genial subject of soot. Without speculating on its +origin and parentage, whether derived from the cooking of a Christmas +dinner, or the production of the beautiful colors and odors of exotic +plants in a conservatory, it can briefly be shown to possess many +qualities both useful and ornamental. When soot is first collected, it +is called “rough soot,” which, being sifted, is then called “fine soot,” +and is sold to farmers for manuring and preserving wheat and turnips. +This is more especially used in Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Essex, &c. +It is rather a costly article, being fivepence per bushel. One +contractor sells annually as much as three thousand bushels; and he +gives it as his opinion, that there must be at least one hundred and +fifty times this quantity (four hundred and fifty thousand bushels per +annum) sold in London. Farmer Smutwise of Bradford, distinctly asserts +that the price of the soot he uses on his land is returned to him in the +straw, with improvement also to the grain. And we believe him. Lime is +used to dilute soot when employed as a manure. Using it pure will keep +off snails, slugs, and caterpillars, from peas and various other +vegetables, as also from dahlias just shooting up, and other flowers; +but we regret to add that we have sometimes known it kill, or burn up +the things it was intended to preserve from unlawful eating. In short, +it is by no means so safe to use for any purpose of garden manure, as +fine cinders, and wood-ashes, which are good for almost any kind of +produce, whether turnips or roses. Indeed, we should like to have one +fourth or fifth part of our garden-beds composed of excellent stuff of +this kind. From all that has been said, it will have become very +intelligible why these dust-heaps are so valuable. Their worth, however, +varies not only with their magnitude (the quality of all of them is much +the same), but with the demand. About the year 1820, the Marylebone +dust-heap produced between four thousand and five thousand pounds. In +1832,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> St. George’s paid Mr. Stapleton five hundred pounds a year, not +to leave the heap standing, but to carry it away. Of course he was only +too glad to be paid highly for selling his dust.</p> + +<p>But to return. The three friends having settled to their satisfaction +the amount of money they should probably obtain by the sale of the +golden miniature-frame, and finished the castles which they had built +with it in the air, the frame was again enfolded in the sound part of +the parchment, the rags and rottenness of the law were cast away, and up +they rose to bend their steps homeward to the little hovel where Peggy +lived, she having invited the others to tea that they might talk yet +more fully over the wonderful good luck that had befallen them.</p> + +<p>“Why, if there isn’t a man’s head in the canal!” suddenly cried little +Jem. “Looky there!—isn’t that a man’s head?—Yes; it’s a drowndedd +man?”</p> + +<p>“A drowndedd man, as I live!” ejaculated old Doubleyear.</p> + +<p>“Let’s get him out, and see!” cried Peggy. “Perhaps the poor soul’s not +quite gone.”</p> + +<p>Little Jem scuttled off to the edge of the canal, followed by the two +old people. As soon as the body had floated nearer, Jem got down into +the water, and stood breast-high, vainly measuring his distance with one +arm out, to see if he could reach some part of the body as it was +passing. As the attempt was evidently without a chance, old Doubleyear +managed to get down into the water behind him, and holding him by one +hand, the boy was thus enabled to make a plunge forward as the body was +floating by. He succeeded in reaching it; but the jerk was too much for +the weakness of his aged companion, who was pulled forward into the +canal. A loud cry burst from both of them, which was yet more loudly +echoed by Peggy on the bank. Doubleyear and the boy were now struggling +almost in the middle of the canal with the body of the man swirling +about between them. They would inevitably have been drowned, had not old +Peggy caught up a long dust-rake that was close at hand—scrambled down +up to her knees in the canal—clawed hold of the struggling group with +the teeth of the rake, and fairly brought the whole to land. Jem was +first up the bank, and helped up his two heroic companions; after which +with no small difficulty, they contrived to haul the body of the +stranger out of the water. Jem at once recognized in him the forlorn +figure of the man who had passed by in the morning, looking so sadly +into the canal, as he walked along.</p> + +<p>It is a fact well known to those who work in the vicinity of these great +dust-heaps, that when the ashes have been warmed by the sun, cats and +kittens that have been taken out of the canal and buried a few inches +beneath the surface, have usually revived; and the same has often +occurred in the case of men. Accordingly the three, without a moment’s +hesitation, dragged the body along to the dust-heap, where they made a +deep trench, in which they placed it, covering it all over up to the +neck.</p> + +<p>“There now,” ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover +her breath, “he’ll lie very comfortable, whether or no.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t lie better,” said old Doubleyear, “even if he knew it.”</p> + +<p>The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result.</p> + +<p>“I thought I’d a lost him,” said Jem, “and myself too; and when I pulled +Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Doubleyear, “it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had +not come in with the rake. How d’yee feel, old girl; for you’ve had a +narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled +you in to go with us.”</p> + +<p>“The Lord be praised!” fervently ejaculated Peggy, pointing toward the +pallid face that lay surrounded with ashes. A convulsive twitching +passed over the features, the lips trembled, the ashes over the breast +heaved, and a low moaning sound, which might have come from the bottom +of the canal, was heard. Again the moaning sound, and then the eyes +opened, but closed almost immediately. “Poor dear soul!” whispered +Peggy, “how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don’t +be afeared. We’re only your good angels, like—only poor +cinder-sifters—don’tee be afeared.”</p> + +<p>By various kindly attentions and manœuvres such as these poor people +had been accustomed to practice on those who were taken out of the +canal, the unfortunate gentleman was gradually brought to his senses. He +gazed about him, as well he might—now looking in the anxious, though +begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their “weeds” and +dust—and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now +slowly rising.</p> + +<p>“Land of quiet Death!” murmured he, faintly, “or land of Life, as dark +and still—I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am +now in, seems doubtful to my senses.”</p> + +<p>“Here we are, poor gentleman,” cried Peggy, “here we are, all friends +about you. How did ’ee tumble into the canal?”</p> + +<p>“The Earth, then, once more!” said the stranger, with a deep sigh. “I +know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes—like +Death’s kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many +uses.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you live?” asked old Doubleyear; “shall we try and take you +home, sir?”</p> + +<p>The stranger shook his head mournfully. All this time, little Jem had +been assiduously employed in rubbing his feet and then his hands; in +doing which the piece of dirty parchment, with the miniature-frame, +dropped out of his breast-pocket. A good thought instantly struck Peggy.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span></p><p>“Run, Jemmy dear—run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the +pawnbroker’s—get something upon it directly, and buy some nice +brandy—and some Godfrey’s cordial—and a blanket, Jemmy—and call a +coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as +fast as you can.”</p> + +<p>But before Jemmy could attend to this, Mr. Waterhouse, the stranger +whose life they had preserved, raised himself on one elbow, and extended +his hand to the miniature-frame. Directly he looked at it, he raised +himself higher up—turned it about once or twice—then caught up the +piece of parchment; and uttering an ejaculation, which no one could have +distinguished either as of joy or of pain, sank back fainting.</p> + +<p>In brief, this parchment was a portion of the title-deeds he had lost; +and though it did not prove sufficient to enable him to recover his +fortune, it brought his opponent to a composition, which gave him an +annuity for life. Small as this was, he determined that these poor +people, who had so generously saved his life at the risk of their own, +should be sharers in it. Finding that what they most desired was to have +a cottage in the neighborhood of the dust-heap, built large enough for +all three to live together, and keep a cow, Mr. Waterhouse paid a visit +to Manchester-square, where the owner of the property resided. He told +his story, as far as was needful, and proposed to purchase the field in +question.</p> + +<p>The great dust-contractor was much amused, and his daughter—a very +accomplished young lady—was extremely interested. So the matter was +speedily arranged to the satisfaction and pleasure of all parties. The +acquaintance, however, did not end here. Mr. Waterhouse renewed his +visits very frequently, and finally made proposals for the young lady’s +hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from +her father.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir,” said the latter, “you wish to marry my daughter, and she +wishes to marry you. You are a gentleman and a scholar, but you have no +money. My daughter is what you see, and she has no money. But I have; +and therefore, as she likes you, and I like you, I’ll make you both an +offer. I will give my daughter twenty thousand pounds—or you shall have +the dust-heap. Choose!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Waterhouse was puzzled and amused, and referred the matter entirely +to the young lady. But she was for having the money, and no trouble. She +said the dust-heap might be worth much, but they did not understand the +business. “Very well,” said her father, laughing, “then there’s the +money.”</p> + +<p>This was the identical dust-heap, as we know from authentic information, +which was subsequently sold for forty thousand pounds, and was exported +to Russia to rebuild Moscow.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="SKETCHES_OF_ENGLISH_CHARACTER" id="SKETCHES_OF_ENGLISH_CHARACTER"></a>SKETCHES OF ENGLISH CHARACTER.</h3> + +<h3>BY WILLIAM HOWITT.</h3> + +<h2>THE OLD SQUIRE.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> old squire, or, in other words, the squire of the old school, is the +eldest born of John Bull; he is the “very moral of him;” as like him as +pea to pea. He has a tolerable share of his good qualities; and as for +his prejudices—oh, they are his meat and drink, and the very clothes +he wears. He is made up of prejudices—he is covered all over with them. +They are the staple of his dreams; they garnish his dishes, they spice +his cup, they enter into his very prayers, and they make his will +altogether. His oaks and elms in his park, and in his woods—they are +sturdy timbers, in troth, and gnarled and knotted to some purpose, for +they have stood for centuries; but what are they to the towering +upshoots of his prejudices? Oh, they are mere wands! If he has not stood +for centuries, his prejudices have; for they have come down from +generation to generation with the family and the estate. They have +ridden, to use another figure, like the Old Man of the Sea, on the +shoulders of his ancestors, and have skipped from those of one ancestor +to those of the next; and there they sit on his own most venerable, +well-fed, comfortable, ancient, and gray-eyed prejudices, as familiar to +their seat as the collar of his coat. He would take cold without them; +to part with them would be the death of him. So! don’t go too +near—don’t let us alarm them; for, in truth, they have had insults, and +met with impertinences of late years, and have grown fretful and +cantankerous in their old age. Nay, horrid radicals have not hesitated, +in this wicked generation, to aim sundry deadly blows at them; and it +has been all that the old squire has been able to do to protect them. +Then—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You need not rub them backwards like a cat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If you would see them spirt and sparkle up.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>You have only to give one look at them, and they will appear to all in +bristles and fury, like a nest of porcupines.</p> + +<p>The old squire, like his father, is a sincere lover and a most hearty +hater. What does he love? Oh, he loves the country—’tis the only +country on the earth that is worth calling a country; and he loves the +constitution. But don’t ask him what it is, unless you want to test the +hardness of his walking-stick; it is the constitution, the finest thing +in the world, and all the better for being, like the Athanasian creed, a +mystery. Of what use is it that the mob should understand it? It is our +glorious constitution—that is enough. Are you not contented to feel how +good it is, without going to peer into its very entrails, and perhaps +ruin it, like an ignorant fellow putting his hand into the works of a +clock? Are you not contented to let the sun shine on you? Do you want to +go up and see what it is made of? Well, then, it is the +constitution—the finest thing in the world; and, good as the country +is, it would be good for nothing without it, no more than a hare would +without stuffing, or a lantern without a candle, or the church without +the steeple or the ring of bells. Well, he loves the constitution, as he +ought to do; for has it not done well for him and his forefathers? And +has it not kept the mob in their places, spite of the French Revolution? +And taken care of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span> National Debt? And has it not taught us all to +“fear God and honor the king;” and given the family estate to him, the +church to his brother Ned, and put Fred and George into the army and +navy? Could there possibly be a better constitution, if the Whigs could +but let it alone with their Reform Bills? And, therefore, as he most +reasonably loves the dear, old, mysterious, and benevolent constitution +to distraction, and places it in the region of his veneration somewhere +in the seventh heaven itself, so he hates every body and thing that +hates it.</p> + +<p>He hates Frenchmen because he loves his country, and thinks we are +dreadfully degenerated that we do not nowadays find some cause, as the +wisdom of our ancestors did, to pick a quarrel with them, and give them +a good drubbing. Is not all our glory made up of beating the French and +the Dutch? And what is to become of history, and the army and the fleet, +if we go on this way? He does not stop to consider that the army, at +least, thrives as well with peace as war; that it continues to increase; +that it eats, drinks, and sleeps as well, and dresses better, and lives +a great deal more easily and comfortably in peace than in war. But, +then, what is to become of history, and the drubbing of the French? Who +may, however, possibly die of “envy and admiration of our glorious +constitution.”</p> + +<p>The old squire loves the laws of England; that is, all the laws that +ever were passed by kings, lords, and commons, especially if they have +been passed some twenty years, and he has had to administer them. The +poor-law and the game-law, the impressment act, the law of +primogeniture, the law of capital punishments; all kind of private acts +for the inclosure of commons; turnpike acts, stamp acts, and acts of all +sorts; he loves and venerates them all, for they are part and parcel of +the statute law of England. As a matter of course, he hates most +religiously all offenders against such acts. The poor are a very good +sort of people; nay, he has a thorough and hereditary liking for the +poor, and they have sundry doles and messes of soup from the Hall, as +they had in his father’s time, so long as they go to church, and don’t +happen to be asleep there when he is awake himself; and don’t come upon +the parish, or send bastards there; so long as they take off their hats +with all due reverence, and open gates when they see him coming. But if +they presume to go to the Methodists’ meeting, or to a Radical club, or +complain of the price of bread, which is a grievous sin against the +agricultural interest; or to poach, which is all crimes in one—if they +fall into any of these sins, oh, then, they are poor devils indeed! Then +does the worthy old squire hate all the brood of them most righteously; +for what are they but Atheists, Jacobins, Revolutionists, Chartists, +rogues and vagabonds? With what a frown he scowls on them as he meets +them in one of the narrow old lanes, returning from some camp meeting or +other; how he expects every dark night to hear of ricks being burnt, or +pheasants shot. How does he tremble for the safety of the country while +they are at large; and with what satisfaction does he grant a warrant to +bring them before him; and, as a matter of course, how joyfully, spite +of all pleas and protestations of innocence, does he commit them to the +treadmill, or the county jail, for trial at the quarter sessions.</p> + +<p>He has a particular affection for the quarter sessions, for there he, +and his brethren all put together, make, he thinks, a tolerable +representation of majesty; and thence he has the satisfaction of seeing +all the poachers transported beyond the seas. The county jail and the +house of correction are particular pets of his. He admires even their +architecture, and prides himself especially on the size and massiveness +of the prison. He used to extend his fondness even to the stocks; but +the treadmill, almost the only modern thing which has wrought such a +miracle, has superseded it in his affections, and the ancient stocks now +stand deserted, and half lost in a bed of nettles; but he still looks +with a gracious eye on the parish pound, and returns the pinder’s touch +of his hat with a marked attention, looking upon him as one of the most +venerable appendages of antique institutions.</p> + +<p>Of course the old squire loves the church. Why, it is ancient, and that +is enough of itself; but, beside that, all the wisdom of his ancestors +belonged to it. His great-great-uncle was a bishop; his wife’s +grandfather was a dean; he has the presentation of the living, which is +now in the hands of his brother Ned; and he has himself all the great +tithes which, in the days of popery, belonged to it. He loves it all the +better, because he thinks that the upstart dissenters want to pull it +down; and he hates all upstarts. And what! Is it not the church of the +queen, and the ministers, and all the nobility, and of all the old +families? It is the only religion for a gentleman, and, therefore, it is +his religion. Would the dissenting minister hob-nob with him as +comfortably over the after-dinner bottle as Ned does, and play a rubber +as comfortably with him, and let him swear a comfortable oath now and +then? ’Tis not to be supposed. Besides, of what family is this +dissenting minister? Where does he spring from? At what university did +he graduate? ’Twon’t do for the old squire. No! the clerk, the sexton, +and the very churchwardens of the time being, partake, in his eye, of +the time-tried sanctity of the good old church, and are bound up in the +bundle of his affections.</p> + +<p>These are a few of the old squire’s likings and antipathies, which are +just as much part of himself, as the entail is of his inheritance. But +we shall see yet more of them when we come to see more of him and his +abode. The old squire is turned of threescore, and every thing is old +about him. He lives in an old house in the midst of an old park, which +has a very old wall, end gates so old, that though they are made of oak +as hard as iron, they begin to stoop in the shoulders, like the old +gentleman himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span> and the carpenter, who is an old man too, and has +been watching them forty years in hopes of their tumbling, and gives +them a good lusty bang after him every time he passes through, swears +they must have been made in the days of King Canute. The squire has an +old coach drawn by two and occasionally by four old fat horses, and +driven by a jolly old coachman, in which his old lady and his old maiden +sister ride; for he seldom gets into it himself, thinking it a thing fit +only for women and children, preferring infinitely the back of Jack, his +old roadster.</p> + +<p>If you went to dine with him, you would find him just as you would have +found his father; not a thing has been changed since his days. There is +the great entrance hall, with its cold stone floor, and its fine +tall-backed chairs, and an old walnut cabinet; and on the walls a +quantity of stags’ horns, with caps and riding-whips hung on them; and +the pictures of his ancestors, in their antiquated dresses, and slender, +tarnished, antiquated frames. In his drawing-room you will find none of +your new grand pianos and fashionable couches and ottomans; but an old +spinet and a fiddle, another set of those long-legged, tall-backed +chairs, two or three little settees, a good massy table, and a fine +large carved mantle-piece, with bright steel dogs instead of a modern +stove, and logs of oak burning, if it be cold. At table, all his plate +is of the most ancient make, and he drinks toasts and healths in +tankards of ale that is strong enough to make a horse reel, but which he +continually avows is as mild as mother’s milk, and wouldn’t hurt an +infant. He has an old rosy butler, and loves very old venison, which +fills the whole house with its perfume while roasting; and an old +double-Gloucester cheese, full of jumpers and mites; and after it a +bottle of old port, at which he is often joined by the parson, and +always by a queer, quiet sort of a tall, thin man, in a seedy black +coat, and with a crimson face, bearing testimony to the efficacy of the +squire’s port and “mother’s milk.”</p> + +<p>This man is always to be seen about, and has been these twenty years. He +goes with the squire a-coursing and shooting, and into the woods with +him. He carries his shot-belt and powder-flask, and gives him out his +chargings and his copper caps. He is as often seen about the steward’s +house; and he comes in and out of the squire’s just as he pleases, +always seating himself in a particular chair near the fire, and pinches +the ears of the dogs, and gives the cat, now and then, a pinch of snuff +as she lies sleeping in a chair; and when the squire’s old lady says, +“How <em>can</em> you do so, Mr. Wagstaff?” he only gives a quiet, chuckling +laugh, and says, “Oh, they like it, madam; they like it, you may +depend.” That is the longest speech he ever makes, for he seldom does +more than say “yes” and “no” to what is said to him, and still oftener +gives only a quiet smile and a soft of little nasal “hum.” The squire +has a vast affection for him, and always walks up to the little chamber +which is allotted to him, once a week, to see that the maid does not +neglect it; though at table he cuts many a sharp joke upon Wagstaff, to +which Wagstaff only returns a smile and a shake of the head, which is +more full of meaning to the squire than a long speech. Such is the old +squire’s constant companion.</p> + +<p>But we have not yet done with the squire’s antiquities. He has an old +woodman, an old shepherd, an old justice’s clerk, and almost all his +farmers are old. He seems to have an antipathy to almost every thing +that is not old. Young men are his aversion; they are such coxcombs, he +says, nowadays. The only exception is a young woman. He always was a +great admirer of the fair sex; though we are not going to rake up the +floating stories of the neighborhood about the gallantries of his youth; +but his lady, who is justly considered to have been as fine a woman as +ever stepped in shoe-leather, is a striking proof of his judgment in +women. Never, however, does his face relax into such pleasantness of +smiles and humorous twinkles of the eye, as when he is in company with +young ladies. He is full of sly compliments and knowing hints about +their lovers, and is universally reckoned among them “a dear old +gentleman.”</p> + +<p>When he meets a blooming country damsel crossing the park, or as he +rides along a lane, he is sure to stop and have a word with her. “Aha, +Mary! I know you, there! I can tell you by your mother’s eyes and lips +that you’ve stole away from her. Ay, you’re a pretty slut enough, but I +remember your mother. Gad! I don’t know whether you are entitled to +carry her slippers after her! But never mind, you’re handsome enough; +and I reckon you’re going to be married directly. Well, well, I won’t +make you blush; so, good-by, Mary, good-by! Father and mother are both +hearty—eh?”</p> + +<p>The routine of the old squire’s life may be summed up in a sentence: +hearing cases and granting warrants and licenses, and making out +commitments as justice; going through the woods to look after the +growth, and trimming, and felling of his trees; going out with his +keeper to reconnoitre the state of his covers and preserves; attending +quarter sessions; dining occasionally with the judge on circuit; +attending the county ball and the races; hunting and shooting, dining +and singing a catch or glee with Wagstaff and the parson over his port. +He has a large, dingy room, surrounded with dingy folios, and other +books in vellum bindings, which he calls his library. Here he sits as +justice; and here he receives his farmers on rent-days, and a wonderful +effect it has on their imaginations; for who can think otherwise than +that the squire must be a prodigious scholar, seeing all that array of +big books? And, in fact, the old squire is a great reader in his own +line. He reads the <cite>Times</cite> daily; and he reads Gwillim’s “Heraldry,” the +“History of the Landed Gentry,” Rapin’s “History of England,” and all +the works of Fielding, Richardson, and Sterne, whom he declares to be +the greatest writers England ever produced, or ever will produce<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>But the old squire is not without his troubles. In his serious judgment +all the world is degenerating. The nation is running headlong to ruin. +“Lord, how different it was in my time!” is his constant exclamation. +The world is now completely turned topsy-turvy. Here is the Reform Bill, +the New Poor-law, which though it does make sharp work among the rogues +and vagabonds, yet has sorely shorn the authority of magistrates. Here +are the New Game-laws, Repeal of the Corn-laws, and the Navigation-laws; +new books, all trash and nonsense; and these harum-scarum railroads, +cutting up the country and making it dangerous to be riding out any +where. “Just,” says he, “as a sober gentleman is riding quietly by the +side of his wood, bang! goes that ‘hell-in-harness,’ a steam-engine, +past. Up goes the horse, down goes the rider to a souse in the ditch, +and a broken collar bone.”</p> + +<p>Then all the world is now running all over the continent, learning all +sorts of Frenchified airs and fashions and notions, and beggaring +themselves into the bargain. He never set foot on the d—d, beggarly, +frog-eating Continent—not he! It was thought enough to live at home, +and eat good roast beef, and sing “God save the King,” in his time; but +now a man is looked upon as a mere clown who has not run so far round +the world that he can seldom ever find his way back again to his +estate, but stops short in London, where all the extravagance and +nonsense in creation are concentrated, to help our mad gentry out of +their wits and their money together. The old squire groans here in +earnest; for his daughter, who has married Sir Benjamin Spankitt, and +his son Tom, who has married the Lady Babara Ridemdown, are as mad as +the rest of them.</p> + +<p>Of Tom, the young squire, we shall take a more complete view anon. But +there is another of the old squire’s troubles yet to be noticed, and +that is in the shape of an upstart. One of the worst features of the +times is the growth and spread of upstarts. Old families going down, as +well as old customs, and new people, who are nobody, taking their +places. Old estates bought up—not by the old gentry, who are scattering +their money in London, and among all the grinning monsieurs, mynheers, +and signores, on the frogified continent, but by the soap-boilers and +sugar-bakers of London. The country gentry, he avers, have been fools +enough to spend their money in London, and now the people they have +spent it among are coming and buying up all the estates about them. Ask +him, as you ride out with him by the side of some great wood or +venerable park, “What old family lives there?” “Old family!” he +exclaims, with an air of angry astonishment; “old family! Where do you +see old families nowadays? That is Sir Peter Post, the great +horse-racer, who was a stable-boy not twenty years ago; and that great +brick house on the hill there is the seat of one of the great Bearrings, +who have made money enough among the bulls and bears to buy up the +estates of half the fools hereabout. But that is nothing; I can assure +you, men are living in halls and abbeys in these parts, who began their +lives in butchers’ shops and cobblers’ stalls.”</p> + +<p>It might, however, be tolerated that merchants and lawyers, +stock-jobbers, and even sugar-bakers and soap-boilers, should buy up the +old houses; but the most grievous nuisance, and perpetual thorn in the +old squire’s side, is Abel Grundy, the son of an old wheelwright, who, +by dint of his father’s saving and his own sharpness, has grown into a +man of substance under the squire’s own nose. Abel began by buying odds +and ends of lands and scattered cottages, which did not attract the +squire’s notice; till at length, a farm being to be sold, which the +squire meant to have, and did not fear any opponent, Abel Grundy bid for +it, and bought it, striking the old steward actually dumb with +astonishment; and then it was found that all the scattered lots which +Grundy had been buying up, lay on one side or other of this farm, and +made a most imposing whole. To make bad worse, Grundy, instead of taking +off his hat when he met the old squire, began now to lift up his own +head very high; built a grand house on the land plump opposite to the +squire’s hall-gates; has brought a grand wife—a rich citizen’s +daughter; set up a smart carriage; and as the old squire is riding out +on his old horse Jack, with his groom behind him, on a roan pony with a +whitish mane and tail, the said groom having his master’s great coat +strapped to his back, as he always has on such occasions, drives past +with a dash and a cool impudence that are most astonishing.</p> + +<p>The only comfort that the old squire has in the case is talking of the +fellow’s low origin. “Only to think,” says he, “that this fellow’s +father hadn’t even wood enough to make a wheel-barrow till my family +helped him; and I have seen this scoundrel himself scraping manure in +the high roads, before he went to the village school in the morning, +with his toes peeping out of his shoes, and his shirt hanging like a +rabbit’s tail out of his ragged trowsers; and now the puppy talks of ‘my +carriage,’ and ‘my footman,’ and says that ‘he and <em>his lady purpose</em> to +spend the winter in <em>the</em> town,’ meaning London!”</p> + +<p>Wagstaff laughs at the squire’s little criticism on Abel Grundy, and +shakes his head; but he can not shake the chagrin out of the old +gentleman’s heart. Abel Grundy’s upstart greatness will be the death of +the <span class="smcap">old squire</span>.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h3><a name="THE_YOUNG_SQUIRE" id="THE_YOUNG_SQUIRE"></a>THE YOUNG SQUIRE.</h3> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p><span class="i3">By smiling fortune blessed</span><br /> +<span class="i0">With large demesnes, hereditary wealth.</span><br /> +<span class="attrib smcap">Somerville.</span></p> +</div> +</div> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Old Squire and the Young Squire are the antipodes of each other. +They are representatives of two entirely different states of society in +this country; the one, but the vestige of that which has been; the +other, the full and perfect image of that which is. The old squires are +like the last fading and shriveled leaves of autumn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> that yet hang on +the tree. A few more days will pass; age will send one of his nipping +nights, and down they will twirl, and be swept away into the oblivious +hiding-places of death, to be seen no more. But the young squire is one +of the full-blown blossoms of another summer. He is flaunting in the +sunshine of a state of wealth and luxury, which we, as our fathers in +their days did, fancy can by no possibility be carried many degrees +farther, and yet we see it every day making some new and extraordinary +advance.</p> + +<p>It is obvious that there are many intervening stages of society, among +our country gentry, between the old squire and the young, as there are +intermediate degrees of age. The old squires are those of the completely +last generation, who have outlived their contemporaries, and have made a +dead halt on the ground of their old habits, sympathies, and opinions, +and are resolved to quit none of them for what they call the follies and +new-fangled notions of a younger, and, of course, more degenerate race. +They are continually crying, “Oh, it never was so in my day!” They point +to tea, and stoves in churches, and the universal use of umbrellas, +parasols, cork-soled shoes, warming-pans, and carriages, as +incontestible proofs of the rapidly-increasing effeminacy of mankind. +But between these old veterans and their children, there are the men of +the middle ages, who have, more or less, become corrupted with modern +ways and indulgences; have, more or less, introduced modern furniture, +modern hours, modern education, and tastes, and books; and have, more or +less, fallen into the modern custom of spending a certain part of the +year in London. With these we have nothing whatever to do. The old +squire is the landmark of the ancient state of things, and his son Tom +is the epitome of the new; all between is a mere transition and +evanescent condition.</p> + +<p>Tom Chesselton was duly sent by his father to Eton as a boy, where he +became a most accomplished scholar in cricket, boxing, horses, and dogs, +and made the acquaintance of several lords, who taught him the way of +letting his father’s money slip easily through his fingers without +burning them, and engrafted him besides with a fine stock of truly +aristocratic tastes, which will last him his whole life. From Eton he +was duly transferred to Oxford, where he wore his gown and trencher-cap +with a peculiar grace, and gave a classic finish to his taste in horses, +in driving, and in ladies. Having completed his education with great +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éclat</span>, he was destined by his father to a few years’ soldiership in +the militia, as being devoid of all danger, and moreover, giving +opportunities for seeing a great deal of the good old substantial +families in different parts of the kingdom. But Tom turned up his nose, +or rather his handsome upper lip, with a most consummate scorn at so +groveling a proposal, and assured his father that nothing but a +commission in the Guards, where several of his noble friends were doing +distinguished honor to their country, by the display of their fine +figures, would suit him. The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders and +was silent, thinking that the six thousand pounds purchase-money would +be quite as well at fifteen per cent. in turnpike shares a little +longer. But Tom, luckily, was not doomed to rusticate long in melancholy +under his patrimonial oaks: his mother’s brother, an old bachelor of +immense wealth, died just in time, leaving Tom’s sister, Lady Spankitt, +thirty thousand pounds in the funds; and Tom, as heir-at-law, his great +Irish estates. Tom, on the very first vacancy, bought into the Guards, +and was soon marked out by the ladies as one of the most <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">distingué</span> +officers that ever wore a uniform. In truth, Tom was a very handsome +fellow; that he owed to his parents, who, in their day, were as +noble-looking a couple as ever danced at a county-ball, or graced the +balcony of a race-stand.</p> + +<p>Tom soon married; but he did not throw himself away sentimentally on a +mere face; he achieved the hand of the sister of one of his old college +chums, and now brother-officer—the Lady Barbara Ridemdown. An earl’s +daughter was something in the world’s eye; but such an earl’s daughter +as Lady Barbara, was the height of Tom’s ambition. She was equally +celebrated for her wit, her beauty, and her large fortune. Tom had won +her from amid the very blaze of popularity and the most splendid offers. +Their united fortunes enabled them to live in the highest style. Lady +Barbara’s rank and connections demanded it, and the spirit of our young +squire required it as much. Tom Chesselton disdained to be a whit behind +any of his friends, however wealthy or high titled. His tastes were +purely aristocratic; with him, dress, equipage, and amusements, were +matters of science. He knew, both from a proud instinct and from study, +what was precisely the true <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ton</span> in every article of dress or equipage, +and the exact etiquette in every situation. But Lady Barbara panted to +visit the Continent, where she had already spent some years, and which +presented so many attractions to her elegant tastes. Tom had elegant +tastes, too, in his way; and to the Continent they went. The old squire +never set his foot on even the coast of Calais: when he has seen it from +Dover, he has only wished that he could have a few hundred tons of +gunpowder, and blow it into the air; but Tom and Lady Barbara have lived +on the Continent for years.</p> + +<p>This was a bitter pill for the old squire. When Tom purchased his +commission in the Guards, and when he opened a house like a palace, on +his wedding with Lady Barbara, the old gentleman felt proud of his son’s +figure, and proud of his connections. “Ah,” said he, “Tom’s a lad of +spirit; he’ll sow his wild oats, and come to his senses presently.” But +when he fairly embarked for France, with a troop of servants, and a +suite of carriages, like a nobleman, then did the old fellow fairly +curse and swear, and call him all the unnatural and petticoat-pinioned +fools in his vocabulary, and prophesy his bringing his ninepence to a +groat. Tom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span> and Lady Barbara, however, upheld the honor of England all +over the Continent. In Paris, at the baths of Germany, at Vienna, +Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples—every where, they were distinguished by +their fine persons, their fine equipage, their exquisite tastes, and +their splendid entertainments. They were courted and caressed by all the +distinguished, both of their own countrymen and of foreigners. Tom’s +horses and equipage were the admiration of the natives. He drove, he +rode, he yachted, to universal admiration; and, meantime, his lady +visited all the galleries and works of art, and received in her house +all the learned and the literary of all countries. There, you always +found artists, poets, travelers, critics, <span class="for" lang="it" xml:lang="it">dilettanti</span>, and +connoisseurs, of all nations and creeds.</p> + +<p>They have again honored their country with their presence; and who so +much the fashion as they? They are, of course, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">au fait</span> in every matter +of taste and fashion; on all questions of foreign life, manners, and +opinions, their judgment is the law. Their town-house is in +Eaton-square; and what a house is that! What a paradise of fairy +splendor! what a mine of wealth, in the most superb furniture, in books +in all languages, paintings, statuary, and precious fragments of the +antique, collected out of every classical city and country. If you see a +most exquisitely tasteful carriage, with a most fascinatingly beautiful +lady in it, in the park, amid all the brilliant concourse of the ring, +you may be sure you see the celebrated Lady Barbara Chesselton; and you +can not fail to recognize Tom Chesselton the moment you clap eyes on +him, by his distinguished figure, and the splendid creature on which he +is mounted—to say nothing of the perfection of his groom, and the steed +which he also bestrides. Tom never crosses the back of a horse of less +value than a thousand pounds; and if you want to know really what horses +are, you must go down to his villa at Wimbledon, if you are not lucky +enough to catch a sight of him proceeding to a levee, or driving his +four-in-hand to Ascot or Epsom. All Piccadilly has been seen to stand, +lost in silent admiration, as he has driven his splendid britchzka along +it, with his perfection of a little tiger by his side; and such cattle +as never besides were seen in even harness of such richness and +elegance. Nay, some scores of ambitious young whips became sick of their +envy of his superb gauntlet driving-gloves.</p> + +<p>But, in fact, in Tom’s case, as in all others, you have only to know his +companions to know him; and who are they but Chesterfield, Conyngham, +D’Orsay, Eglintoun, my Lord Waterford, and men of similar figure and +reputation. To say that he is well known to all the principal +frequenters of the Carlton Club; that his carriages are of the most +perfect make ever turned out by Windsor; that his harness is only from +Shipley’s; and that Stultz has the honor of gracing his person with his +habiliments; is to say that our young squire is one of the most perfect +men of fashion in England. Lady Barbara and himself have a common +ground of elegance of taste, and knowledge of the first principles of +genuine aristocratic life; but they have very different pursuits, +arising from the difference of their genius, and they follow them with +the utmost mutual approbation.</p> + +<p>Lady Barbara is at once the worshiped beauty, the woman of fashion, and +of literature. No one has turned so many heads, by the loveliness of her +person, and the bewitching fascination of her manners, as Lady Barbara. +She is a wit, a poetess, a connoisseur in art; and what can be so +dangerously delightful as all these characters in a fashionable beauty, +and a woman, moreover, of such rank and wealth? She does the honors of +her house to the mutual friends and noble connections of her husband and +herself with a perpetual grace; but she has, besides, her evenings for +the reception of her literary and artistic acquaintance and admirers. +And who, of all the throng of authors, artists, critics, journalists, +connoisseurs, and amateurs, who flock there are not her admirers? Lady +Barbara Chesselton writes travels, novels, novellets, philosophical +reflections, poems, and almost every species of thing which ever has +been written—such is the universality of her knowledge, experience, and +genius: and who does not hasten to be the first to pour out in reviews, +magazines, daily and hebdomadal journals, the earliest and most fervid +words of homage and admiration? Lady Barbara edits an annual, and is a +contributor to the “Keepsake;” and in her kindness, she is sure to find +out all the nice young men about the press; to encourage them by her +smile, and to raise them, by her fascinating conversation and her +brilliant saloons, above those depressing influences of a too sensitive +modesty, which so weighs on the genius of the youth of this age; so that +she sends them away, all heart and soul, in the service of herself and +literature, which are the same thing; and away they go, extemporizing +praises on her ladyship, and spreading them through leaves of all sizes, +to the wondering eyes of readers all the world over. Publishers run with +their unsalable manuscripts, and beg Lady Barbara to have the goodness +to put her name on the title, knowing by golden experience that one +stroke of her pen, like the point of a galvanic wire, will turn all the +dullness of the dead mass into flame. Lady Barbara is not barbarous +enough to refuse so simple and complimentary a request; nay, her +benevolence extends on every hand. Distressed authors, male and female, +who have not her rank, and, therefore, most clearly not her genius, beg +her to take their literary bantlings under her wing; and with a heart, +as full of generous sympathies as her pen is of magic, she writes but +her name on the title as an “Open Sesame!” and lo! the dead become +alive; her genius permeates the whole volume, which that moment puts +forth wings of popularity, and flies into every bookseller’s shop and +every circulating library in the kingdom.</p> + +<p>Such is the life of glory and Christian benev<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span>olence which Lady Barbara +daily leads, making authors, critics, and publishers all happy together, +by the overflowing radiance of her indefatigable and inexhaustible +genius, though she sometimes slyly laughs to herself, and says, “What a +thing is a title! if it were not for that, would all these people come +to me?” While Tom, who is member of parliament for the little borough of +Dearish, most patriotically discharges his duty by pairing off—visits +the classic grounds of Ascot, Epsom, Newmarket, or Goodwood, or +traverses the moors of Scotland and Ireland in pursuit of grouse. But +once a year they indulge their filial virtues in a visit to the old +squire. The old squire, we are sorry to say, has grown of late years +queer and snappish, and does not look on this visit quite as gratefully +as he should. “If they would but come,” he says, “in a quiet way, as I +used to ride over and see my father in his time, why I should be right +glad to see them; but, here they come, like the first regiment of an +invading army, and God help those who are old, and want to be quiet!”</p> + +<p>The old gentleman, moreover, is continually haranguing about Tom’s folly +and extravagance. It is his perpetual topic to his wife, and wife’s +maiden sister, and Wagstaff. Wagstaff only shakes his head, and says, +“Young blood! young blood!” but Mrs. Chesselton and the maiden sister +say, “Oh! Mr. Chesselton, you don’t consider: Tom has great connections, +and he is obliged to keep a certain establishment. Things are different +now to what they were in our time. Tom is universally allowed to be a +very fine man, and Lady Barbara is a very fine woman, and a prodigious +clever woman! and you ought to be proud of them, Chesselton.” At which +the old gentleman breaks out, if he be a little elevated over his wine:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When the Duke of Leeds shall married be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To a fine young lady of high quality,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How happy will that gentlewoman be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In his grace of Leeds good company!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She shall have all that’s fine and fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the best of silk and satin to wear;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And ride in a coach to take the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And have a house in St. James’s-square.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Lady Barbara always professes great affection and reverence for the old +gentleman, and sends him many merry and kind compliments and messages; +and sends him, moreover, her new books as soon as they are out, most +magnificently bound; but all won’t do. He only says, “If she’d please +me, she’d give up that cursed opera-box. Why, the rent of that +thing—only to sit in and hear Italian women squealing and squalling, +and to see impudent, outlandish baggages kicking up their heels higher +than any decent heads ought to be—the rent, I say, would maintain a +parish rector, or keep half-a-dozen parish schools a-going.” As for her +books, that all the world besides are in raptures about, the old squire +turns them over as a dog would a hot dumpling; says nothing but a Bible +ought to be so extravagantly bound; and professes that “the matter may +all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it.” Yet, +whenever Lady Barbara is with him, she is sure to talk and smile herself +in about half an hour into his high favor; and he begins to run about to +show her this and that, and calls out every now and then, “Let Lady +Barbara see this, and go to look at that.” She can do any thing with +him, except get him to London. “London!” he exclaims; “no; get me to +Bedlam at once! What has a rusty old fellow, like me, to do at London? +If I could find again the jolly set that used to meet, thirty years ago, +at the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, it might do; but London isn’t what +London used to be. It’s too fine by half for a country squire, and would +drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and +nonsense.”</p> + +<p>But the old squire does get pretty well distracted with the annual +visit. Down come driving the young squire and Lady Barbara, with a train +of carriages like a fleet of men-of-war, leading the way with their +traveling-coach and four horses. Up they twirl to the door of old hall. +The old bell rings a thundering peal through the house. Doors fly +open—out come servants—down come the young guests from their +carriages; and while embraces and salutations are going on in the +drawing-room, the hall is fast filling with packages upon packages; +servants are running to and fro along the passages; grooms and carriages +are moving off to the stables without; there is lifting and grunting at +portmanteaus and imperials, as they are borne up-stairs; while ladies’ +maids and nursemaids are crying out, “Oh, take care of that trunk!” +“Mind that ban’-box!” “Oh, gracious! that is my lady’s dressing-case; it +will be down, and be totally ruined!” Dogs are barking; children crying, +or romping about, and the whole house in the most blessed state of +bustle and confusion.</p> + +<p>For a week the hurly-burly continues; in pour all the great people to +see Tom and Lady Barbara. There are shootings in the mornings, and great +dinner parties in the evenings. Tom and my lady have sent down before +them plenty of hampers of such wines as the old squire neither keeps nor +drinks, and they have brought their plate along with them; and the old +house itself is astonished at the odors of champagne, claret, and hook, +that pervade, and at the glitter of gold and silver in it. The old man +is full of attention and politeness, both to his guests and to their +guests; but he is half worried with the children, and t’other half +worried with so many fine folks; and muddled with drinking things that +he is not used to, and with late hours. Wagstaff has fled—as he always +does on such occasions—to a farm-house on the verge of the estate. The +hall, and the parsonage, and even the gardener’s house, are all full of +beds for guests, and servants, and grooms. Presently, the old gentleman, +in his morning rides, sees some of the young bucks shooting the +pheasants in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span> home-park, where he never allows them to be disturbed, +and comes home in a fume, to hear that the house is turned upside-down +by the host of scarlet-breeched and powdered livery-servants, and that +they have turned all the maids’ heads with sweethearting. But, at +length, the day of departure arrives, and all sweep away as suddenly and +rapidly as they came; and the old squire sends off for Wagstaff, and +blesses his stars that what he calls “the annual hurricane,” is over.</p> + +<p>But what a change will there be when the old squire is dead! Already +have Tom and Lady Barbara walked over the ground, and planned it. That +horrid fright of an old house, as they call it, will be swept as clean +away as if it had not stood there five hundred years. A grand +Elizabethean pile is already decreed to succeed it. The fashionable +architect will come driving down in his smart Brougham, with all his +plans and papers. A host of mechanics will come speedily after him, by +coach or by wagon: booths will be seen rising all around the old place, +which will vanish away, and its superb successor rise where it stood, +like a magical vision. Already are ponderous cases lying loaded, in +London, with massive mantle-pieces of the finest Italian marble, marble +busts, and heads of old Greek and Roman heroes, genuine burial-urns from +Herculaneum and Pompeii, and vessels of terra-cotta, +gloriously-sculptured vases, and even columns of verde antique—all from +classic Italy—to adorn the walls of this same noble new house.</p> + +<p>But, meantime, spite of the large income of Tom and Lady Barbara, the +old squire has strange suspicions of mortgages, and dealings with Jews. +He has actually inklings of horrid post-obits; and groans as he looks on +his old oaks, as he rides through his woods and parks, foreseeing their +overthrow; nay, he fancies he sees the land-agent among his quiet old +farmers, like a wild-cat in a rabbit warren, startling them out of their +long dream of ease and safety, with news of doubled rents, and notices +to quit, to make way for threshing-machines, winnowing-machines, +corn-crushers, patent ploughs, scufflers, scarifiers, and young men of +more enterprise. And, sure enough, such will be the order of the day the +moment the estate falls to the <span class="smcap">young squire</span>.—<cite>Country Year Book.</cite></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Prescence_of_Mind" id="Prescence_of_Mind"></a>[From Hogg’s Instructor.]</p> + +<h2>PRESENCE OF MIND—A FRAGMENT.</h2> + +<h3>BY THOMAS DE QUINCEY.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> Roman <em>formula</em> for summoning an earnest concentration of the +faculties upon any object whatever, that happened to be critically +urgent, was <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hoc age</span>, “Mind <em>this</em>!” or, in other words, do not mind +<em>that</em>—<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">non illud age</span>. The antithetic formula was “<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">aliud</span> agere,” to +mind something alien, or remote from the interest then clamoring for +attention. Our modern military orders of “<em>Attention!</em>” and “<em>Eyes +strait!</em>” were both included in the “<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hoc age</span>.” In the stern +peremptoriness of this Roman formula we read a picturesque expression of +the Roman character both as to its strength and its weakness—of the +energy which brooked no faltering or delay (for beyond all other races +the Roman was <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">natus rebus agendis</span>)—and also of the morbid craving for +action, which was intolerant of any thing but the intensely practical.</p> + +<p>In modern times, it is we of the Anglo-Saxon blood, that is, the British +and the Americans of the United States, who inherit the Roman +temperament with its vices and its fearful advantages of power. In the +ancient Roman these vices appeared more barbarously conspicuous. We, the +countrymen of Lord Bacon and Sir Isaac Newton, and at one time the +leaders of austere thinking, can not be supposed to shrink from the +speculative through any native incapacity for sounding its depths. But +the Roman had a real inaptitude for the speculative: to <em>him</em> nothing +was real that was not practical. He had no metaphysics; he wanted the +metaphysical instinct. There was no school of <em>native</em> Roman philosophy: +the Roman was merely an eclectic or <span class="for" lang="it" xml:lang="it">dilettanti</span> picking up the crumbs +which fell from Grecian tables; and even mathematics was so repulsive in +its sublimer aspects to the Roman mind, that the very word mathematics +had in Rome collapsed into another name for the dotages of astrology. +The mathematician was a mere variety of expression for the wizard or the +conjurer.</p> + +<p>From this unfavorable aspect of the Roman intellect it is but justice +that we should turn away to contemplate those situations in which that +same intellect showed itself preternaturally strong. To face a sudden +danger by a corresponding weight of sudden counsel or sudden +evasion—<em>that</em> was a privilege essentially lodged in the Roman mind. +But in every nation some minds much more than others are representative +of the national type: they are normal minds, reflecting, as in a focus, +the characteristics of the race. Thus Louis XIV. has been held to be the +idealized expression of the French character; and among the Romans there +can not be a doubt that the first Cæsar offers in a rare perfection the +revelation of that peculiar grandeur which belonged to the children of +Romulus.</p> + +<p>What <em>was</em> that grandeur? We do not need, in this place, to attempt its +analysis. One feature will suffice for our purpose. The late celebrated +John Foster, in his essay on decision of character, among the accidents +of life which might serve to strengthen the natural tendencies to such a +character, or to promote its development, rightly insists on +<em>desertion</em>. To find itself in solitude, and still more to find itself +thrown upon that state of abandonment by sudden treachery, crushes the +feeble mind, but rouses a terrific reaction of haughty self-assertion in +that order of spirits which matches and measures itself against +difficulty and danger. There is something corresponding to this case of +human treachery in the sudden caprices of fortune. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span> danger, offering +itself unexpectedly in some momentary change of blind external agencies, +assumes to the feelings the character of a perfidy accomplished by +mysterious powers, and calls forth something of the same resentment, and +in a gladiatorial intellect something of the same spontaneous +resistance. A sword that breaks in the very crisis of a duel, a horse +killed by a flash of lightning in the moment of collision with the +enemy, a bridge carried away by an avalanche at the instant of a +commencing retreat, affect the feelings like dramatic incidents +emanating from a human will. This man they confound and paralyze, that +man they rouse into resistance, as by a personal provocation and insult. +And if it happens that these opposite effects show themselves in cases +wearing a national importance, they raise what would else have been a +mere casualty into the tragic or the epic grandeur of a fatality. The +superb character, for instance, of Cæsar’s intellect throws a colossal +shadow as of predestination over the most trivial incidents of his +career. On the morning of Pharsalia, every man who reads a record of +that mighty event feels<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> by a secret instinct that an earthquake is +approaching which must determine the final distribution of the ground, +and the relations among the whole family of man through a thousand +generations. Precisely the inverse case is realized in some modern +sections of history, where the feebleness or the inertia of the +presiding intellect communicates a character of triviality to events +that otherwise are of paramount historical importance. In Cæsar’s case, +simply through the perfection of his preparations arrayed against all +conceivable contingencies, there is an impression left as of some +incarnate Providence, vailed in a human form, ranging through the ranks +of the legions; while, on the contrary, in the modern cases to which we +allude, a mission, seemingly authorized by inspiration, is suddenly +quenched, like a torch falling into water, by the careless character of +the superintending intellect. Neither case is without its appropriate +interest. The spectacle of a vast historical dependency, pre-organized +by an intellect of unusual grandeur, wears the grace of congruity and +reciprocal proportion. And on the other hand, a series of mighty events +contingent upon the motion this way or that of a frivolous hand, or +suspended on the breath of caprice, suggests the wild and fantastic +disproportions of ordinary life, when the mighty masquerade moves on +forever through successions of the gay and the solemn—of the petty and +the majestic.</p> + +<p>Cæsar’s cast of character owed its impressiveness to +the combination which it offered of moral grandeur and monumental +immobility, such as we see in Marius, with the dazzling intellectual +versatility found in the Gracchi, in Sylla, in Catiline, in Antony. The +comprehension and the absolute perfection of his prescience did not +escape the eye of Lucan, who describes him as—“Nil actum reputans, si +quid superesset agendum.” A fine lambent gleam of his character escapes +also in that magnificent fraction of a line, where he is described as +one incapable of learning the style and sentiments suited to a private +interest—“Indocilis privata loqui.”</p> + +<p>There has been a disposition manifested among modern writers to disturb +the traditional characters of Cæsar and his chief antagonist. +Audaciously to disparage Cæsar, and without a shadow of any new historic +grounds to exalt his feeble competitor, has been adopted as the best +chance for filling up the mighty gulf between them. Lord Brougham, for +instance, on occasion of a dinner given by the Cinque Ports at Dover to +the Duke of Wellington, vainly attempted to raise our countryman by +unfounded and romantic depreciations of Cæsar. He alleged that Cæsar had +contended only with barbarians. Now, <em>that</em> happens to be the literal +truth as regards Pompey. The victories on which his early reputation was +built were won from semi-barbarians—luxurious, it is true, but also +effeminate in a degree never suspected at Rome until the next +generation. The slight but summary contest of Cæsar with Pharnaces, the +son of Mithridates, dissipated at once the cloud of ignorance in which +Rome had been involved on this subject by the vast distance and the +total want of familiarity with Oriental habits. But Cæsar’s chief +antagonists, those whom Lord Brougham specially indicated, viz., the +Gauls, were <em>not</em> barbarians. As a military people, they were in a stage +of civilization next to that of the Romans. They were quite as much +<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">aguerris</span>, hardened and seasoned to war, as the children of Rome. In +certain military habits they were even superior. For purposes of war +four races were then pre-eminent in Europe—viz., the Romans, the +Macedonians, certain select tribes among the mixed population of the +Spanish peninsula, and finally the Gauls. These were all open to the +recruiting parties of Cæsar; and among them all he had deliberately +assigned his preference to the Gauls. The famous legion, who carried the +<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Alauda</span> (the lark) upon their helmets, was raised in Gaul from Cæsar’s +private funds. They composed a select and favored division in his army, +and, together with the famous tenth legion, constituted a third part of +his forces—a third numerically on the day of battle, but virtually a +half. Even the rest of Cæsar’s army had been for so long a space +recruited in the Gauls, Transalpine as well as Cisalpine, that at +Pharsalia the bulk of his forces is known to have been Gaulish. There +were more reasons than one for concealing that fact. The policy of Cæsar +was, to conceal it not less from Rome than from the army itself. But the +truth became known at last to all wary observers. Lord Brougham’s +objection to the quality<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span> of Cæsar’s enemies falls away at once when it +is collated with the deliberate composition of Cæsar’s own army. Besides +that, Cæsar’s enemies were <em>not</em> in any exclusive sense Gauls. The +German tribes, the Spanish, the Helvetian, the Illyrian, Africans of +every race, and Moors; the islanders of the Mediterranean, and the mixed +populations of Asia, had all been faced by Cæsar. And if it is alleged +that the forces of Pompey, however superior in numbers, were at +Pharsalia largely composed of an Asiatic rabble, the answer is—that +precisely of such a rabble were the hostile armies composed from which +he had won his laurels. False and windy reputations are sown thickly in +history; but never was there a reputation more thoroughly histrionic +than that of Pompey. The late Dr. Arnold of Rugby, among a million of +other crotchets, did (it is true) make a pet of Pompey; and he was +encouraged in this caprice (which had for its origin the doctor’s +<em>political</em><a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> animosity to Cæsar) by one military critic, viz., Sir +William Napier. This distinguished soldier conveyed messages to Dr. +Arnold, warning him against the popular notion, that Pompey was a poor +strategist. Now, had there been any Roman state-paper office, which Sir +William could be supposed to have searched and weighed against the +statements of surviving history, we might, in deference to Sir William’s +great experience and talents, have consented to a rehearing of the case. +Unfortunately, no new materials have been discovered; nor is it alleged +that the old ones are capable of being thrown into new combinations, so +as to reverse or to suspend the old adjudications. The judgment of +history stands; and among the records which it involves, none is more +striking than this—that, while Cæsar and Pompey were equally assaulted +by sudden surprises, the first invariably met the sudden danger (sudden +but never unlooked-for) by counter resources of evasion. He showed a new +front, as often as his situation exposed a new peril. At Pharsalia, +where the cavalry of Pompey was far superior to his own, he anticipated +and was in full readiness for the particular manœuvre by which it was +attempted to make this superiority available against himself. By a new +formation of his troops he foiled the attack, and caused it to recoil +upon the enemy. Had Pompey then no rejoinder ready for meeting this +reply? No. His one arrow being shot, his quiver was exhausted. Without +an effort at parrying any longer, the mighty game was surrendered as +desperate. “Check to the king!” was heard in silent submission; and no +further stratagem was invoked even in silent prayer, but the stratagem +of flight. Yet Cæsar himself, objects a celebrated doctor (viz., Bishop +Warburton), was reduced by his own rashness at Alexandria to a condition +of peril and embarrassment not less alarming than the condition of +Pompey at Pharsalia. How far this surprise might be reconcilable with +Cæsar’s military credit, is a question yet undecided; but this at least +is certain, that he was equal to the occasion; and, if the surprise was +all but fatal, the evasion was all but miraculous. Many were the sudden +surprises which Cæsar had to face before and after this—on the shores +of Britain, at Marseilles, at Munda, at Thapsus—from all of which he +issued triumphantly, failing only as to that final one from which he had +in pure nobility of heart announced his determination to shelter himself +under no precautions.</p> + +<p>Such eases of personal danger and escape are +exciting to the imagination, from the disproportion between the +interests of an individual and the interests of a whole nation which for +the moment happen to be concurrent. The death or the escape of Cæsar, at +one moment, rather than another, would make a difference in the destiny +of many nations. And in kind, though not in degree, the same interest +has frequently attached to the fortunes of a prince or military leader. +Effectually the same dramatic character belongs to any struggle with +sudden danger, though not (like Cæsar’s) successful. That it was <em>not</em> +successful becomes a new reason for pursuing it with interest; since +equally in that result, as in one more triumphant, we read the altered +course by which history is henceforward destined to flow.</p> + +<p>For instance, how much depended—what a weight of history hung in +suspense, upon the evasions, or attempts at evasion, of Charles I. He +was a prince of great ability; and yet it confounds us to observe, with +how little of foresight, or of circumstantial inquiry, either as +regarded things or persons, he entered upon these difficult enterprises +of escape from the vigilance of military guardians. His first escape, +viz., that into the Scottish camp before Newark, was not surrounded with +any circumstances of difficulty. His second escape from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> Hampton Court +had become a matter of more urgent policy, and was proportionally more +difficult of execution. He was attended on that occasion by two +gentlemen (Berkely and Ashburnham), upon whose qualities of courage and +readiness, and upon whose acquaintance with the accidents, local or +personal, that surrounded their path, all was staked. Yet one of these +gentlemen was always suspected of treachery, and both were imbecile as +regarded that sort of wisdom on which it was possible for a royal person +to rely. Had the questions likely to arise been such as belong to a +masquerading adventure, these gentlemen might have been qualified for +the situation. As it was, they sank in mere distraction under the +responsibilities of the occasion. The king was as yet in safety. At Lord +Southampton’s country mansion, he enjoyed the protection of a loyal +family ready to face any risk in his behalf; and his retreat was +entirely concealed. Suddenly this scene changes. The military commander +in the Isle of Wight is acquainted with the king’s situation, and +brought into his presence, together with a military guard, though no +effort had been made to exact securities from his honor in behalf of the +king. His single object was evidently to arrest the king. His military +honor, his duty to the parliament, his private interest, all pointed to +the same result, viz., the immediate apprehension of the fugitive +prince. What was there in the opposite scale to set against these +notorious motives? Simply the fact that he was nephew to the king’s +favorite chaplain, Dr. Hammond. What rational man, in a case of that +nature, would have relied upon so poor a trifle? Yet even this +inconsiderable bias was much more than balanced by another of the same +kind but in the opposite direction. Colonel Hammond was nephew to the +king’s chaplain, but in the meantime he was the husband of Cromwell’s +niece; and upon Cromwell privately, and the whole faction of the +Independents politically, he relied for all his hopes of advancement. +The result was, that, from mere inertia of mind and criminal negligence +in his two attendants, the poor king had run right into the custody of +the very jailer whom his enemies would have selected by preference.</p> + +<p>Thus, then, from fear of being made a prisoner Charles had quietly +walked into the military prison of Carisbrook Castle. The very security +of this prison, however, might throw the governor off his guard. Another +escape might be possible; and again an escape was arranged. It reads +like some leaf torn from the records of a lunatic hospital, to hear its +circumstances and the particular point upon which it split. Charles was +to make his exit through a window. This window, however, was fenced by +iron bars; and these bars had been to a certain extent eaten through +with <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">aqua fortis</span>. The king had succeeded in pushing his head through, +and upon that result he relied for his escape; for he connected this +trial with the following strange maxim or postulate, viz., that +wheresoever the head could pass, there the whole person could pass. It +needs not to be said, that, in the final experiment, this absurd rule +was found not to hold good. The king stuck fast about the chest and +shoulders, and was extricated with some difficulty. Had it even been +otherwise, the attempt would have failed; for, on looking down from +amidst the iron bars, the king beheld, in the imperfect light, a number +of people who were not among his accomplices.</p> + +<p>Equal in fatuity, almost 150 years later, were the several attempts at +escape concerted on behalf of the French royal family. The abortive +escape to Varennes is now familiarly known to all the world, and +impeaches the good sense of the king himself not less than of his +friends. The arrangements for the falling in with the cavalry escort +could not have been worse managed had they been intrusted to children. +But even the general outline of the scheme, an escape in a collective +family party—father, mother, children, and servants—and the king +himself, whose features were known to millions, not even withdrawing +himself from the public gaze at the stations for changing horses—all +this is calculated to perplex and sadden the pitying reader with the +idea that some supernatural infatuation had bewildered the predestined +victims. Meantime an earlier escape than this to Varennes had been +planned, viz., to Brussels. The preparations for this, which have been +narrated by Madame de Campan, were conducted with a disregard of +concealment even more astounding to people of ordinary good sense. “Do +you really need to escape at all?” would have been the question of many +a lunatic; “if you do, surely you need also to disguise your +preparations for escape.”</p> + +<p>But alike the madness, or the providential wisdom, of such attempts +commands our profoundest interest; alike—whether conducted by a Cæsar +or by the helpless members of families utterly unfitted to act +independently for themselves. These attempts belong to history, and it +is in that relation that they become philosophically so impressive. +Generations through an infinite series are contemplated by us as +silently awaiting the turning of a sentinel round a corner, or the +casual echo of a footstep. Dynasties have trepidated on the chances of a +sudden cry from an infant carried in a basket; and the safety of empires +has been suspended, like the descent of an avalanche, upon the moment +earlier or the moment later of a cough or a sneeze. And, high above all, +ascends solemnly the philosophic truth, that the least things and the +greatest are bound together as elements equally essential of the +mysterious universe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> “Feels by a secret instinct;”—A sentiment of this nature +is finely expressed by Lucan in the passage beginning, “Advenisse diem,” +&c. The circumstance by which Lucan chiefly defeats the grandeur and +simplicities of the truth, is, the monstrous numerical exaggeration of +the combatants and the killed at Pharsalia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> It is very evident that Dr. Arnold could not have +understood the position of politics in Rome, when he allowed himself to +make a favorite of Pompey. The doctor hated aristocrats as he hated the +gates of Erebus. Now Pompey was not only the leader of a most selfish +aristocracy, but also their tool. Secondly, as if this were not bad +enough, that section of the aristocracy to which he had dedicated his +services was an odious oligarchy; and to this oligarchy, again, though +nominally its head, he was in effect the most submissive of tools. +Cæsar, on the other hand, if a democrat in the sense of working by +democratic agencies, was bending all his efforts to the reconstruction +of a new, purer, and enlarged aristocracy, no longer reduced to the +necessity of buying and selling the people in mere self-defense. The +everlasting war of bribery, operating upon universal poverty, the +internal disease of Roman society, would have been redressed by Cæsar’s +measures, and <em>was</em> redressed according to the degree in which those +measures were really brought into action. New judicatures were wanted, +new judicial laws, a new aristocracy, by slow degrees a new people, and +the right of suffrage exercised within new restrictions—all these +things were needed for the cleansing of Rome; and that Cæsar would have +accomplished this labor of Hercules was the true cause of his death. The +scoundrels of the oligarchy felt their doom to be approaching. It was +the just remark of Napoleon, that Brutus (but still more, we may say, +Cicero), though falsely accredited as a patriot, was, in fact, the most +exclusive and the most selfish of aristocrats.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Fearful_Tragedy" id="Fearful_Tragedy"></a>[From Cumming’s Hunting Adventures in South Africa.]</p> + +<h2>FEARFUL TRAGEDY—A MAN-EATING LION.</h2> + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">On</span> the 29th we arrived at a small village of Bakalahari. These natives +told me that elephants were abundant on the opposite side of the river. +I accordingly resolved to halt here and hunt, and drew my wagons up on +the river’s bank, within thirty yards of the water, and about one +hundred yards from the native village. Having outspanned, we at once set +about making for the cattle a kraal of the worst description of +thorn-trees. Of this I had now become very particular, since my severe +loss by lions on the first of this month; and my cattle were, at night, +secured by a strong kraal, which inclosed my two wagons, the horses +being made fast to a trek-tow stretched between the hind wheels of the +wagons. I had yet, however, a fearful lesson to learn as to the nature +and character of the lion, of which I had at one time entertained so +little fear; and on this night a horrible tragedy was to be acted in my +little lonely camp of so very awful and appalling a nature as to make +the blood curdle in our veins. I worked till near sundown at one side of +the kraal with Hendric, my first wagon-driver—I cutting down the trees +with my ax, and he dragging them to the kraal. When the kraal for the +cattle was finished, I turned my attention to making a pot of +barley-broth, and lighted a fire between the wagons and the water, close +on the river’s bank, under a dense grove of shady trees, making no sort +of kraal around our sitting-place for the evening.</p> + +<p>The Hottentots, without any reason, made their fire about fifty yards +from mine; they, according to their usual custom, being satisfied with +the shelter of a large dense bush. The evening passed away cheerfully. +Soon after it was dark we heard elephants breaking the trees in the +forest across the river, and once or twice I strode away into the +darkness some distance from the fireside to stand and listen to them. I +little, at that moment, deemed of the imminent peril to which I was +exposing my life, nor thought that a bloodthirsty man-eater lion was +crouching near, and only watching his opportunity to spring into the +kraal, and consign one of us to a most horrible death. About three hours +after the sun went down I called to my men to come and take their coffee +and supper, which was ready for them at my fire; and after supper three +of them returned before their comrades to their own fireside, and lay +down; these were John Stofolus, Hendric, and Ruyter. In a few minutes an +ox came out by the gate of the kraal and walked round the back of it. +Hendric got up and drove him in again, and then went back to his +fireside and lay down. Hendric and Ruyter lay on one side of the fire +under one blanket, and John Stofolus lay on the other. At this moment I +was sitting taking some barley-broth; our fire was very small, and the +night was pitch-dark and windy. Owing to our proximity to the native +village the wood was very scarce, the Bakalahari having burned it all in +their fires.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the appalling and murderous voice of an angry, bloodthirsty +lion burst upon my ear within a few yards of us, followed by the +shrieking of the Hottentots. Again and again the murderous roar of +attack was repeated. We heard John and Ruyter shriek “The lion! the +lion!” still, for a few moments, we thought he was but chasing one of +the dogs round the kraal; but, next instant, John Stofolus rushed into +the midst of us almost speechless with fear and terror, his eyes +bursting from their sockets, and shrieked out, “The lion! the lion! He +has got Hendric; he dragged him away from the fire beside me. I struck +him with the burning brands upon his head, but he would not let go his +hold. Hendric is dead! Oh God! Hendric is dead! Let us take fire and +seek him.” The rest of my people rushed about, shrieking and yelling as +if they were mad. I was at once angry with them for their folly, and +told them that if they did not stand still and keep quiet the lion would +have another of us; and that very likely there was a troop of them. I +ordered the dogs, which were nearly all fast, to be made loose, and the +fire to be increased as far as could be. I then shouted Hendric’s name, +but all was still. I told my men that Hendric was dead, and that a +regiment of soldiers could not now help him, and, hunting my dogs +forward, I had every thing brought within the cattle-kraal, when we +lighted our fire and closed the entrance as well as we could.</p> + +<p>My terrified people sat round the fire with guns in their hands till the +day broke, still fancying that every moment the lion would return and +spring again into the midst of us. When the dogs were first let go, the +stupid brutes, as dogs often prove when most required, instead of going +at the lion, rushed fiercely on one another, and fought desperately for +some minutes. After this they got his wind, and, going at him, disclosed +to us his position: they kept up a continued barking until the day +dawned, the lion occasionally springing after them and driving them in +upon the kraal. The horrible monster lay all night within forty yards of +us, consuming the wretched man whom he had chosen for his prey. He had +dragged him into a little hollow at the back of the thick bush beside +which the fire was kindled, and there he remained till the day dawned, +careless of our proximity.</p> + +<p>It appeared that when the unfortunate Hendric rose to drive in the ox, +the lion had watched him to his fireside, and he had scarcely laid down +when the brute sprang upon him and Ruyter (for both lay under one +blanket), with his appalling, murderous roar, and, roaring as he lay, +grappled him with his fearful claws, and kept biting him on the breast +and shoulder, all the while feeling for his neck; having got hold of +which, he at once dragged him away backward round the bush into the +dense shade.</p> + +<p>As the lion lay upon the unfortunate man, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> faintly cried, “Help me, +help me! Oh God! men, help me!” After which the fearful beast got a hold +of his neck, and then all was still, except that his comrades heard the +bones of his neck cracking between the teeth of the lion. John Stofolus +had lain with his back to the fire on the opposite side, and on hearing +the lion he sprang up, and, seizing a large flaming brand, had belabored +him on the head with the burning wood; but the brute did not take any +notice of him. The Bushman had a narrow escape; he was not altogether +scatheless, the lion having inflicted two gashes in his seat with his +claws.</p> + +<p>The next morning, just as the day began to dawn, we heard the lion +dragging something up the river side, under cover of the bank. We drove +the cattle out of the kraal, and then proceeded to inspect the scene of +the night’s awful tragedy. In the hollow, where the lion had lain +consuming his prey, we found one leg of the unfortunate Hendric, bitten +off below the knee, the shoe still on his foot; the grass and bushes +were all stained with his blood, and fragments of his pea-coat lay +around. Poor Hendric! I knew the fragments of that old coat, and had +often marked them hanging in the dense covers where the elephant had +charged after my unfortunate after-rider. Hendric was by far the best +man I had about my wagons, of a most cheerful disposition, a first-rate +wagon-driver, fearless in the field, ever active, willing, and obliging: +his loss to us all was very serious. I felt confounded and utterly sick +in my heart; I could not remain at the wagons, so I resolved to go after +elephants to divert my mind. I had that morning heard them breaking the +trees on the opposite side of the river. I accordingly told the natives +of the village of my intentions, and having ordered my people to devote +the day to fortifying the kraal, started with Piet and Ruyter as my +after-riders. It was a very cool day. We crossed the river, and at once +took up the fresh spoor of a troop of bull elephants. These bulls +unfortunately joined a troop of cows, and when we came on them the dogs +attacked the cows, and the bulls were off in a moment, before we could +even see them. One remarkably fine old cow charged the dogs. I hunted +this cow, and finished her with two shots from the saddle. Being anxious +to return to my people before night, I did not attempt to follow the +troop. My followers were not a little gratified to see me returning, for +terror had taken hold of their minds, and they expected that the lion +would return, and, emboldened by the success of the preceding night, +would prove still more daring in his attack. The lion would most +certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. My health had +been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but I was, +of course, still very weak. It would still be two hours before the sun +would set, and, feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able for further +work, I ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in search of the +lion.</p> + +<p>I took John and Carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the natives +followed up the spoor and led the dogs. The lion had dragged the remains +of poor Hendric along a native foot-path that led up the river side. We +found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and at last the mangled +coat itself. About six hundred yards from our camp a dry river’s course +joined the Limpopo. At this spot was much shade, cover, and heaps of dry +reeds and trees deposited by the Limpopo in some great flood. The lion +had left the foot-path and entered this secluded spot. I at once felt +convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the natives to make loose +the dogs. These walked suspiciously forward on the spoor, and next +minute began to spring about, barking angrily, with all their hair +bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry reeds immediately +followed—it was the lion bounding away.</p> + +<p>Several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing +continually backward and springing aloft to obtain a view. I now pressed +forward and urged them on; old Argyll and Bles took up his spoor in +gallant style, and led on the other dogs. Then commenced a short but +lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small +satisfaction that I could obtain to answer for the horrors of the +preceding evening. The lion held up the river’s bank for a short +distance, and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best he +could find, but nevertheless open. Here, in two minutes, the dogs were +up with him, and he turned and stood at bay. As I approached, he stood, +his horrid head right to me, with open jaws, growling fiercely, his tail +waving from side to side.</p> + +<p>On beholding him my blood boiled with rage. I wished that I could take +him alive and torture him, and, setting my teeth, I dashed my steed +forward within thirty yards of him and shouted, “<em>Your</em> time is up, old +fellow.” I halted my horse, and, placing my rifle to my shoulder, waited +for a broadside. This the next moment he exposed, when I sent a bullet +through his shoulder and dropped him on the spot. He rose, however, +again, when I finished him with a second in the breast. The Bakalahari +now came up in wonder and delight. I ordered John to cut off his head +and forepaws and bring them to the wagons, and, mounting my horse, +galloped home, having been absent about fifteen minutes. When the +Bakalahari women heard that the man-eater was dead, they all commenced +dancing about with joy, calling me <em>their father</em>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="the_haunted_house_in_charnwood_forest" id="the_haunted_house_in_charnwood_forest"></a>[From Howitt’s Country Year-Book.]</p> + +<h2>THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN CHARNWOOD FOREST.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">One</span> fine, blustering, autumn day, a quiet and venerable-looking old +gentleman might be seen, with stick in hand, taking his way through the +streets of Leicester. If any one had fol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span>lowed him, they would have +found him directing his steps toward that side of the town which leads +to Charnwood. The old gentleman, who was a Quaker, took his way +leisurely, but thoughtfully, stopping every now and then to see what the +farmers’ men were about, who were plowing up the stubbles to prepare for +another year’s crop. He paused, also, at this and that farm-house, +evidently having a pleasure in the sight of good fat cattle, and in the +flocks of poultry—fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys, busy about the +barn-door, where the sound of the flail, or the swipple, as they there +term it, was already heard busily knocking out the corn of the last +bountiful harvest. Our old friend—a Friend—for though you, dear +reader, do not know him, he was both at the time we speak of—our old +friend, again trudging on, would pause on the brow of a hill, at a +stile, or on some rustic bridge, casting its little obliging arch over a +brooklet, and inhale the fresh autumnal air; and after looking round +him, nod to himself, as if to say, “Ay, all good, all beautiful!” and so +he went on again. But it would not be long before he would be arrested +again by clusters of rich, jetty blackberries, hanging from some old +hawthorn hedge; or by clusters of nuts, hanging by the wayside, through +the copse. In all these natural beauties our old wayfarer seemed to have +the enjoyment of a child. Blackberries went into his mouth, and nuts +into his pockets; and so, with a quiet, inquiring, and thoughtful, yet +thoughtfully cheerful look, the good old man went on.</p> + +<p>He seemed bound for a long walk, and yet to be in no hurry. In one place +he stopped to talk to a very old laborer, who was clearing out a ditch; +and if you had been near, you would have heard that their discourse was +of the past days, and the changes in that part of the country, which the +old laborer thought were very much for the worse. And worse they were +for him: for formerly he was young and full of life; and now he was old +and nearly empty of life. Then he was buoyant, sang songs, made love, +went to wakes and merry-makings; now his wooing days, and his marrying +days, and his married days were over. His good old dame, who in those +young, buxom days was a round-faced, rosy, plump, and light-hearted +damsel, was dead, and his children were married, and had enough to do. +In those days, the poor fellow was strong and lusty, had no fear and no +care; in these, he was weak and tottering; had been pulled and harassed +a thousand ways; and was left, as he said, like an old dry kex—<em>i.e.</em> a +hemlock or cow-parsnip stalk, hollow and dry, to be knocked down and +trodden into the dust some day.</p> + +<p>Yes, sure enough, those past days <em>were</em> much better days than these +days were to him. No comparison. But Mr. John Basford, our old wanderer, +was taking a more cheerful view of things, and telling the nearly +worn-out laborer, that when the night came there followed morning, and +that the next would be a heavenly morning, shining on hills of glory, +on waters of life, on cities of the blest, where no sun rose, and no sun +set; and where every joyful creature of joyful youth, who had been dear +to him, and true to him and God, would again meet him, and make times +such as should cause songs of praise to spring out of his heart, just as +flowers spring out of a vernal tree in the rekindled warmth of the sun.</p> + +<p>The old laborer leaned reverently on his spade as the worthy man talked +to him. His gray locks, uncovered at his labor by any hat, were tossed +in the autumn wind. His dim eye was fixed on the distant sky, that +rolled its dark masses of clouds on the gale, and the deep wrinkles of +his pale and feeble temples seemed to grow deeper at the thoughts +passing within him. He was listening as to a sermon, which brought +together his youth and his age; his past and his future; and there were +verified on that spot words which Jesus Christ spoke nearly two thousand +years ago—“Wherever two or three are met together in my name, there am +I in the midst of them.”</p> + +<p>He was in the midst of the two only. There was a temple there in those +open fields, sanctified by two pious hearts, which no ringing of bells, +no sound of solemn organ, nor voice of congregated prayers, nor any +preacher but the ever-present and invisible One, who there and then +fulfilled His promise and was gracious, could have made more holy.</p> + +<p>Our old friend again turned to set forward; he shook the old laborer +kindly by the hand, and there was a gaze of astonishment in the old +man’s face—the stranger had not only cheered him by his words, but left +something to cheer him when he was gone.</p> + +<p>The Friend now went on with a more determined step. He skirted the +memorable park of Bradgate, famous for the abode of Lady Jane Grey, and +the visit of her schoolmaster, Roger Ascham. He went on into a region of +woods and hills. At some seven or eight miles from Leicester, he drew +near a solitary farm-house, within the ancient limits of the forest of +Charnwood. It was certainly a lonely place amid the woodlands and the +wild autumn fields. Evening was fast dropping down; and as the shade of +night fell on the scene, the wind tossed more rushingly the boughs of +the thick trees, and roared down the rocky valley. John Basford went up +to the farm-house, however, as if that was the object of his journey, +and a woman opening it at his knock, he soon disappeared within.</p> + +<p>Now our old friend was a perfect stranger here; had never been here +before; had no acquaintance nor actual business with the inhabitants, +though any one watching his progress hither would have been quite +satisfied that he was not wandering without an object. But he merely +stated that he was somewhat fatigued with his walk from the town, and +requested leave to rest awhile. In such a place, such a request is +readily, and even gladly granted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>There was a cheerful fire burning on a bright, clean hearth. The kettle +was singing on the hob for tea, and the contrast of the in-door comfort +was sensibly heightened by the wild gloom without. The farmer’s wife, +who had admitted the stranger, soon went out, and called her husband +from the fold-yard. He was a plain, hearty sort of man; gave our friend +a hearty shake of the hand, sate down, and began to converse. A little +time seemed to establish a friendly interest between the stranger and +the farmer and his wife. John Basford asked whether they would allow him +to smoke a pipe, which was not only readily accorded, but the farmer +joined him. They smoked and talked alternately of the country and the +town, Leicester being the farmer’s market, and as familiar to him as his +own neighborhood. He soon came to know, too, who his guest was, and +expressed much pleasure in the visit. Tea was carried into the parlor, +and thither they all adjourned, for now the farming men were coming into +the kitchen, where they sate for the evening.</p> + +<p>Tea over, the two gentlemen again had a pipe, and the conversation +wandered over a multitude of things and people known to both.</p> + +<p>But the night was come down pitch dark, wild, and windy, and old John +Basford had to return to Leicester.</p> + +<p>“To Leicester!” exclaimed at once man and wife; “to Leicester!” No such +thing. He must stay where he was—where could he be better?</p> + +<p>John Basford confessed that that was true; he had great pleasure in +conversing with them; but then, was it not an unwarrantable liberty to +come to a stranger’s house, and make thus free?</p> + +<p>“Not in the least,” the farmer replied; “the freer the better!”</p> + +<p>The matter thus was settled, and the evening wore on; but in the course +of the evening, the guest, whose simple manner, strong sense, and deeply +pious feeling, had made a most favorable impression on his entertainers, +hinted that he had heard some strange rumors regarding this house, and +that, in truth, had been the cause which had attracted him thither. He +had heard, in fact, that a particular chamber in this house was haunted; +and he had for a long time felt a growing desire to pass a night in it. +He now begged this favor might be granted him.</p> + +<p>As he had opened this subject, an evident cloud, and something of an +unpleasant surprise, had fallen on the countenances of both man and +wife. It deepened as he proceeded; the farmer had withdrawn his pipe +from his mouth, and laid it on the table; and the woman had risen, and +looked uneasily at their guest. The moment that he uttered the wish to +sleep in the haunted room, both exclaimed in the same instant against +it.</p> + +<p>“No, never!” they exclaimed; “never, on any consideration! They had made +a firm resolve on that point, which nothing would induce them to break +through.”</p> + +<p>The guest expressed himself disappointed, but did not press the matter +further at the moment. He contented himself with turning the +conversation quietly upon this subject, and after a while found the +farmer and his wife confirm to him every thing that he had heard. Once +more then, and as incidentally, he expressed his regret that he could +not gratify the curiosity which had brought him so far; and, before the +time for retiring arrived, again ventured to express how much what he +had now heard had increased his previous desire to pass a night in that +room. He did not profess to believe himself invulnerable to fears of +such a kind, but was curious to convince himself of the actual existence +of spiritual agency of this character.</p> + +<p>The farmer and his wife steadily refused. They declared that others who +had come with the same wish, and had been allowed to gratify it, had +suffered such terrors as had made their after-lives miserable. The last +of these guests was a clergyman, who received such a fright that he +sprang from his bed at midnight, had descended, gone into the stable, +and saddling his horse, had ridden away at full speed. Those things had +caused them to refuse, and that firmly, any fresh experiment of the +kind.</p> + +<p>The spirit visitation was described to be generally this: At midnight, +the stranger sleeping in that room would hear the latch of the door +raised, and would in the dark perceive a light step enter, and, as with +a stealthy tread, cross the room, and approach the foot of the bed. The +curtains would be agitated, and something would be perceived mounted on +the bed, and proceeding up it, just upon the body of the person in it. +The supernatural visitant would then stretch itself full length on the +person of the agitated guest, and the next moment he would feel an +oppression at his chest, as of a nightmare, and something extremely cold +would touch his face.</p> + +<p>At this crisis, the terrified guest would usually utter a fearful +shriek, and often go into a swoon. The whole family would be roused from +their beds by the alarm; but on no occasion had any traces of the cause +of terror been found, though the house, on such occasions, had been +diligently and thoroughly searched. The annoying visit was described as +being by no means uniform. Sometimes it would not take place for a very +long time, so that they would begin to hope that there would be no more +of it; but it would, when least expected, occur again. Few people of +late years, however, had ventured to sleep in that room, and never since +the aforementioned clergyman was so terribly alarmed, about two years +ago, had it once been occupied.</p> + +<p>“Then,” said John Basford, “it is probable that the annoyance is done +with forever. If the troublesome visitant was still occasionally present +it would, no doubt, take care to manifest itself in some mode or place. +It was necessary to test the matter to see whether this particular room +was still subject to so strange a phenomenon.”</p> + +<p>This seemed to have an effect on the farmer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span> and his wife. The old man +urged his suit all the more earnestly, and, after further show of +extreme reluctance on the part of his entertainers, finally prevailed.</p> + +<p>The consent once being given, the farmer’s wife retired to make the +necessary arrangements. Our friend heard sundry goings to and fro; but +at length it was announced to him that all was ready; the farmer and his +wife both repeating that they would be much better pleased if Mr. +Basford would be pleased to sleep in some other room. The old man, +however, remained firm to his purpose; he was shown to his chamber, and +the maid who led the way stood at some distance from the denoted door, +and pointing to it, bade him good night, and hurried away.</p> + +<p>Mr. Basford found himself alone in the haunted room, he looked round and +discovered nothing that should make it differ from any other good and +comfortable chamber, or that should give to some invisible agent so +singular a propensity to disturb any innocent mortal that nocturnated in +it. Whether he felt any nervous terrors, we know not; but as he was come +to see all that would or could occur there, he kept himself most +vigilantly awake. He lay down in a very good feather bed, extinguished +his light, and waited in patience. Time and tide, as they will wait for +no man, went on. All sounds of life ceased in the house; nothing could +be heard but the rushing wind without, and the bark of the yard-dog +occasionally amid the laughing blast. Midnight came, and found John +Basford wide-awake and watchfully expectant. Nothing stirred, but he lay +still on the watch. At length—was it so? Did he hear a rustling +movement, as it were, near his door, or was it his excited fancy? He +raised his head from his pillow, and listened intensely. Hush! there is +something!—no!—it was his contagious mind ready to hear and see—what? +There was an actual sound of the latch! He could hear it raised! He +could not be mistaken. There was a sound as if his door was cautiously +opened. List! it was true. There were soft, stealthy footsteps on the +carpet; they came directly toward the bed; they paused at its foot; the +curtains were agitated; there were steps on the bed; something +crept—did not the heart and the very flesh of the rash old man now +creep too?—and upon him sank a palpable form, palpable from its +pressure, for the night was dark as an oven. There was a heavy weight on +his chest, and in the same instant something almost icy cold touched his +face.</p> + +<p>With a sudden, convulsive action, the old man suddenly flung up his +arms, clutched at the terrible object which thus oppressed him, and +shouted with a loud cry,</p> + +<p>“I have got him! I have got him!”</p> + +<p>There was a sound as of a deep growl, a vehement struggle, but John +Basford held fast his hold, and felt that he had something within it +huge, shaggy, and powerful. Once more he raised his voice loud enough to +have roused the whole house; but it seemed no voice of terror, but one +of triumph and satisfaction. In the next instant, the farmer rushed into +the room with a light in his hand, and revealed to John Basford that he +held in his arms the struggling form of a huge Newfoundland dog!</p> + +<p>“Let him go, sir, in God’s name!” exclaimed the farmer, on whose brow +drops of real anguish stood, and glistened in the light of the candle. +“Down stairs, Cæsar!” and the dog, released from the hold of the Quaker, +departed as if much ashamed.</p> + +<p>In the same instant, the farmer and his wife, who now also came in +dressed, and evidently never having been to bed, were on their knees by +the bedside.</p> + +<p>“You know it all, sir,” said the farmer; “you see through it. You were +too deep and strong-minded to be imposed on. We were, therefore, afraid +of this when you asked to sleep in this room. Promise us now, that while +we live you will never reveal what you know?”</p> + +<p>They then related to him, that this house and chamber had never been +haunted by any other than this dog, which had been trained to play the +part. That, for generations, their family had lived on this farm; but +some years ago, their landlord having suddenly raised their rent to an +amount that they felt they could not give, they were compelled to think +of quitting the farm. This was to them an insuperable source of grief. +It was the place that all their lives and memories were bound up with. +They were extremely cast down. Suddenly it occurred to them to give an +ill name to the house. They hit on this scheme, and, having practiced it +well, did not long want an opportunity of trying it. It had succeeded +beyond their expectations. The fears of their guests were found to be of +a force which completely blinded them to any discovery of the truth. +There had been occasions where they thought some clumsy accident must +have stripped away the delusion; but no! there seemed a thick vail of +blindness, a fascination of terror cast over the strongest minds, which +nothing could pierce through. Case after case occurred; and the house +and farm acquired such a character, that no money or consideration of +any kind would have induced a fresh tenant to live there. The old +tenants continued at their old rent; and the comfortable ghost stretched +himself every night in a capacious kennel, without any need of +disturbing his slumbers by calls to disturb those of the guests of the +haunted chamber.</p> + +<p>Having made this revelation, the farmer and his wife again implored +their guest to preserve their secret.</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Nay,” said he, “I think it would not be right to do that. That would be +to make myself a party to a public deception. It would be a kind of +fraud on the world and the landlord. It would serve to keep up those +superstitious terrors which should be as speedily as possible +dissipated.”</p> + +<p>The farmer was in agony. He rose and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span> strode to and fro in the room. His +countenance grew red and wrathful. He cast dark glances at his guest, +whom his wife continued to implore, and who sate silent, and, as it +were, lost in reflection.</p> + +<p>“And do you think it a right thing, sir,” said the farmer, “thus to +force yourself into a stranger’s house and family, and, in spite of the +strongest wishes expressed to the contrary, into his very chambers, and +that only to do him a mischief? Is that your religion, sir? I thought +you had something better in you than that. Am I now to think your +mildness and piety were only so much hypocrisy put on to ruin me?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, friend, I don’t want to ruin thee,” said the Quaker.</p> + +<p>“But ruin me you will, though, if you publish this discovery. Out I must +turn, and be the laughing-stock of the whole country to boot. Now, if +that is what you mean, say so, and I shall know what sort of a man you +are. Let me know at once whether you are an honest man or a cockatrice?”</p> + +<p>“My friend,” said the Quaker, “canst thou call thyself an honest man, in +practicing this deception for all these years, and depriving thy +landlord of the rent he would otherwise have got from another? And dost +thou think it would be honest in me to assist in the continuance of this +fraud?”</p> + +<p>“I rob the landlord of nothing,” replied the farmer. “I pay a good, fair +rent; but I don’t want to quit the old spot. And if you had not thrust +yourself into this affair, you would have had nothing to lay on your +conscience concerning it. I must, let me tell you, look on it as a piece +of unwarrantable impertinence to come thus to my house and be kindly +treated only to turn Judas against me.”</p> + +<p>The word Judas seemed to hit the Friend a great blow.</p> + +<p>“A Judas!”</p> + +<p>“Yes—a Judas! a real Judas!” exclaimed the wife. “Who could have +thought it!”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay,” said the old man. “I am no Judas. It is true, I forced +myself into it; and if you pay the landlord an honest rent, why, I don’t +know that it is any business of mine—at least while you live.”</p> + +<p>“That is all we want,” replied the farmer, his countenance changing, and +again flinging himself by his wife on his knees by the bed. “Promise us +never to reveal it while we live, and we shall be quite satisfied. We +have no children, and when we go, those may come to th’ old spot who +will.”</p> + +<p>“Promise me never to practice this trick again,” said John Basford.</p> + +<p>“We promise faithfully,” rejoined both farmer and wife.</p> + +<p>“Then I promise too,” said the Friend, “that not a whisper of what has +passed here shall pass my lips during your lifetime.”</p> + +<p>With warmest expressions of thanks, the farmer and his wife withdrew; +and John Basford, having cleared the chamber of its mystery, lay down +and passed one of the sweetest nights he ever enjoyed.</p> + +<p>The farmer and his wife lived a good many years after this, but they +both died before Mr. Basford; and after their death, he related to his +friends the facts which are here detailed. He, too, has passed, years +ago, to his longer night in the grave, and to the clearing up of greater +mysteries than that of—the Haunted House of Charnwood Forest.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="From_Frasers_Magazine" id="From_Frasers_Magazine"></a>[From Fraser’s Magazine.]</p> + +<h2>LEDRU ROLLIN—BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Ledru rollin</span> is now in his forty-fourth or forty-fifth year, having been +born in 1806 or 1807. He is the grandson of the famous <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Prestidigateur</span>, +or Conjurer Comus, who, about four or five-and-forty years ago, was in +the acme of his fame. During the Consulate, and a considerable portion +of the Empire, Comus traveled from one department of France to the +other, and is even known to have extended his journeys beyond the Rhine +and the Moselle on one side, and beyond the Rhône and Garonne on the +other. Of all the conjurors of his day he was the most famous and the +most successful, always, of course, excepting that Corsican conjuror who +ruled for so many years the destinies of France. From those who have +seen that famous trickster, we have learned that the Charleses, the +Alexandres, even the Robert-Houdins, were children compared with the +magical wonder-worker of the past generation. The fame of Comus was +enormous, and his gains proportionate; and when he had shuffled off this +mortal coil it was found he had left to his descendants a very +ample—indeed, for France a very large fortune. Of the descendants in a +right line, his grandson, Ledru Rollin, was his favorite, and to him the +old man left the bulk of his fortune, which, during the minority of +Ledru Rollin, grew to a sum amounting to nearly, if not fully, £4000 per +annum of our money.</p> + +<p>The scholastic education of the young man who was to inherit this +considerable fortune, was nearly completed during the reign of Louis +XVIII., and shortly after Charles X. ascended the throne <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">il commençait +à faire sur droit</span>, as they phrase it in the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pays Latin</span>. Neither +during the reign of Louis XVIII., nor indeed now, unless in the exact +and physical sciences, does Paris afford a very solid and substantial +education. Though the Roman poets and historians are tolerably well +studied and taught, yet little attention is paid to Greek literature. +The physical and exact sciences are unquestionably admirably taught at +the Polytechnique and other schools; but neither at the College of St. +Barbe, nor of Henry IV., can a pupil be so well grounded in the +rudiments and humanities as in our grammar and public schools. A +studious, painstaking, and docile youth, will, no doubt, learn a great +deal, no matter where he has been placed in pupilage; but we have heard +from a contem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span>porary of M. Rollin, that he was not particularly +distinguished either for his industry or his docility in early life. The +earliest days of the reign of Charles X. saw M. Ledru Rollin an +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">étudiant en droit</span> in Paris. Though the schools of law had been +re-established during the Consulate pretty much after the fashion in +which they existed in the time of Louis XIV., yet the application of the +<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">alumni</span> was fitful and desultory, and perhaps there were no two classes +in France, at the commencement of 1825, who were more imbued with the +Voltarian philosophy, and the doctrines and principles of Rosseau, than +the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">élèves</span> of the schools of law and medicine.</p> + +<p>Under a king so skeptical and voluptuous, so much of a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">philosophe</span> and +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pyrrhonéste</span>, as Louis XVIII., such tendencies were likely to spread +themselves through all ranks of society—to permeate from the very +highest to the very lowest classes; and not all the lately acquired +asceticism of the monarch, his successor, nor all the efforts of the +Jesuits, could restrain or control the tendencies of the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">étudiants en +droit</span>. What the law students were antecedently and subsequent to 1825, +we know from the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Physiologic de l’Homme de Loi</span>; and it is not to be +supposed that M. Ledru Rollin, with more ample pecuniary means at +command, very much differed from his fellows. After undergoing a three +years’ course of study, M. Rollin obtained a diploma as a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">licencié en +droit</span>, and commenced his career as <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">stagiare</span> somewhere about the end +of 1826, or the beginning of 1827. Toward the close of 1829, or in the +first months of 1830, he was, we believe, placed on the roll of +advocates: so that he was called to the bar, or, as they say in France, +received an advocate, in his twenty-second or twenty-third year.</p> + +<p>The first years of an advocate, even in France, are generally passed in +as enforced an idleness as in England. Clients come not to consult the +greenhorn of the last term; nor does any <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">avoué</span> among our neighbors, +any more than any attorney among ourselves, fancy that an old head is to +be found on young shoulders. The years 1830 and 1831 were not marked by +any oratorical effort of the author of the <cite>Decline of England</cite>; nor was +it till 1832 that, being then one of the youngest of the bar of Paris, +he prepared and signed an opinion against the placing of Paris in a +state of siege consequent on the insurrections of June. Two years after +he prepared a memoir, or <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">factum</span>, on the affair of the Rue Transonian, +and defended Dupoty, accused of <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">complicité morale</span>, a monstrous +doctrine, invented by the Attorney-general Hebert. From 1834 to 1841 he +appeared as counsel in nearly all the cases of <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">émeute</span> or conspiracy +where the individuals prosecuted were Republicans or +<em>quasi</em>-Republicans. Meanwhile, he had become the proprietor and +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rédacteur en chief</span> of the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Réforme</span> newspaper, a political journal of +an ultra-liberal—indeed, of a republican-complexion, which was then +called of extreme opinions, as he had previously been editor of a legal +newspaper called <cite><span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Journal du Palais. La Réforme</span></cite> had been originally +conducted by Godefroy Cavaignac, the brother of the general, who +continued editor till the period of the fatal illness which preceded his +death. The defense of Dupoty, tried and sentenced under the ministry of +Thiers to five years’ imprisonment, as a regicide, because a letter was +found open in the letter-box of the paper of which he was editor, +addressed to him by a man said to be implicated in the conspiracy of +Quenisset, naturally brought M. Rollin into contact with many of the +writers in <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">La Réforme</span>; and these persons, among others Guinard Arago, +Etienne Arago, and Flocon, induced him to embark some portion of his +fortune in the paper. From one step he was led on to another, and +ultimately became one of the chief, indeed, is not the chief proprietor. +The speculation was far from successful in a pecuniary sense; but M. +Rollin, in furtherance of his opinions, continued for some years to +disburse considerable sums in the support of the journal. By this he no +doubt increased his popularity and his credit with the republican party, +but it can not be denied that he very materially injured his private +fortune. In the earlier portion of his career M. Rollin was, it is +known, not indisposed to seek a seat in the chamber under the auspicies +of M. Barrot, but subsequently to his connection with the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Réforme</span>, he +had himself become thoroughly known to the extreme party in the +departments, and on the death of Garnier Pagès the elder, was elected in +1841 for Le Mans, in the department of La Sarthe.</p> + +<p>In addressing the electors after his return, M. Rollin delivered a +speech much more republican than monarchical. For this he was sentenced +to four months’ imprisonment, but the sentence was appealed against and +annulled on a technical ground, and the honorable member was ultimately +acquitted by the Cour d’Assizes of Angers.</p> + +<p>The parliamentary <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">début</span> of M. Rollin took place in 1842. His first +speech was delivered on the subject of the secret-service money. The +elocution was easy and flowing, the manner oratorical, the style +somewhat turgid and bombastic. But in the course of the session M. +Rollin improved, and his discourse on the modification of the criminal +law, on other legal subjects, and on railways, were more sober specimens +of style. In 1843 and 1844 M. Rollin frequently spoke; but though his +speeches were a good deal talked of outside the walls of the chamber, +they produced little effect within it. Nevertheless, it was plain to +every candid observer that he possessed many of the requisites of the +orator—a good voice, a copious flow of words, considerable energy and +enthusiasm, a sanguine temperament and jovial and generous disposition. +In the sessions of 1845-46, M. Rollin took a still more prominent part. +His purse, his house in the Rue Tournon, his counsels and advice, were +all placed at the service of the men of the movement, and by the +beginning of 1847 he seemed to be acknowl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span>edged by the extreme party as +its most conspicuous and popular member. Such, indeed, was his position +when the electoral reform banquets, on a large scale, began to take +place in the autumn of 1847. These banquets, promoted and forwarded by +the principal members of the opposition to serve the cause of electoral +reform, were looked on by M. Rollin and his friends in another light. +While Odillon Barrot, Duvergier d’Hauranne, and others, sought by means +of them to produce an enlarged constituency, the member for Sarthe +looked not merely to functional, but to organic reform—not merely to an +enlargement of the constituency, but to a change in the form of the +government. The desire of Barrot was <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à la vérité, à la sincerité des +institutions conquises en Julliet 1830</span>; whereas the desire of Rollin +was, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à l’amélioration des classes laborieuses</span>: the one was willing to +go on with the dynasty of Louis Philippe and the Constitution of July +improved by diffusion and extension of the franchise, the other looked +to a democratic and social republic. The result is now known. It is not +here our purpose to go over the events of the Revolution of February, +1848, but we may be permitted to observe, that the combinations by which +that event was effected were ramified and extensive, and were long +silently and secretly in motion.</p> + +<p>The personal history of Ledru Rollin, since February, 1848, is well +known and patent to all the world. He was the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ame damnée</span> of the +Provisional Government—the man whose extreme opinions, intemperate +circulars, and vehement patronage of persons professing the political +creed of Robespierre—indisposed all moderate men to rally around the +new system. It was in covering Ledru Rollin with the shield of his +popularity that Lamartine lost his own, and that he ceased to be the +political idol of a people of whom he must ever be regarded as one of +the literary glories and illustrations. On the dissolution of the +Provisional Government, Ledru Rollin constituted himself one of the +leaders of the movement party. In ready powers of speech and in +popularity no man stood higher; but he did not possess the power of +restraining his followers or of holding them in hand, and the result +was, that instead of being their leader he became their instrument. Fond +of applause, ambitious of distinction, timid by nature, destitute of +pluck, and of that rarer virtue moral courage, Ledru Rollin, to avoid +the imputation of faint-heartedness, put himself in the foreground, but +the measures of his followers being ill-taken, the plot in which he was +mixed up egregiously failed, and he is now in consequence an exile in +England.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="A_Chip_From_A_Sailors_Log" id="A_Chip_From_A_Sailors_Log"></a>[From Chambers’s Edinburgh Journal.]</p> + +<h2>A CHIP FROM A SAILOR’S LOG.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">It</span> was a dead calm—not a breath of air—the sails flapped idly against +the masts; the helm had lost its power, and the ship turned her head how +and where she liked. The heat was intense, so much so, that the chief +mate had told the boatswain to keep the watch out of the sun; but the +watch below found it too warm to sleep, and were tormented with thirst, +which they could not gratify till the water was served out. They had +drunk all the previous day’s allowance; and now that their scuttle but +was dry, there was nothing left for them but endurance. Some of the +seamen had congregated on the top-gallant forecastle, where they gazed +on the clear blue water with longing eyes.</p> + +<p>“How cool and clear it looks,” said a tall, powerful young seaman; “I +don’t think there are many sharks about: what do you say for a bath, +lads?”</p> + +<p>“That for the sharks!” burst almost simultaneously from the parched lips +of the group: “we’ll have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in +to dinner.” In about half an hour the dinner-bell rang. The boatswain +took charge of the deck; some twenty sailors were now stripped, except a +pair of light duck trowsers; among the rest was a tall, powerful, +coast-of-Africa nigger of the name of Leigh: they used to joke him, and +call him Sambo.</p> + +<p>“You no swim to-day, Ned?” said he, addressing me. “Feared of shark, +heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after +him—him run like debbel.” I was tempted, and, like the rest, was soon +ready. In quick succession we jumped off the spritsail yard, the black +leading. We had scarcely been in the water five minutes, when some voice +in-board cried out, “A shark! a shark!” In an instant every one of the +swimmers came tumbling up the ship’s sides, half mad with fright, the +gallant black among the rest. It was a false alarm. We felt angry with +ourselves for being frightened, angry with those who had frightened us, +and furious with those who had laughed at us. In another moment we were +all again in the water, the black and myself swimming some distance from +the ship. For two successive voyages there had been a sort of rivalry +between us: each fancied that he was the best swimmer, and we were now +testing our speed.</p> + +<p>“Well done, Ned!” cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. “Go it, +Sambo!” cried some others. We were both straining our utmost, excited by +the cheers of our respective partisans. Suddenly the voice of the +boatswain was heard shouting, “A shark! a shark! Come back for God’s +sake!”</p> + +<p>“Lay aft, and lower the cutter down,” then came faintly on our ear. The +race instantly ceased. As yet, we only half believed what we heard, our +recent fright being still fresh in our memories.</p> + +<p>“Swim, for God’s sake!” cried the captain, who was now on deck; “he has +not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him. +Strike out, lads, for God’s sake!” My heart stood still: I felt weaker +than a child as I gazed with horror at the dorsal fin of a large shark +on the starboard quarter. Though in the water, the perspiration dropped +from me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span> like rain: the black was striking out like mad for the ship.</p> + +<p>“Swim, Ned—swim!” cried several voices; “they never take black when +they can get white.”</p> + +<p>I did swim, and that desperately: the water foamed past me. I soon +breasted the black, but could not head him. We both strained every nerve +to be first, for we each fancied the last man would be taken. Yet we +scarcely seemed to move: the ship appeared as far as ever from us. We +were both powerful swimmers, and both of us swam in the French way +called <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la brasse</span>, or hand over hand, in English. There was something +the matter with the boat’s falls, and they could not lower her.</p> + +<p>“He sees you now!” was shouted; “he is after you!” Oh the agony of that +moment! I thought of every thing at the same instant, at least so it +seemed to me then. Scenes long forgotten rushed through my brain with +the rapidity of lightning, yet in the midst of this I was striking out +madly for the ship. Each moment I fancied I could feel the pilot-fish +touching me, and I almost screamed with agony. We were now not ten yards +from the ship: fifty ropes were thrown to us; but, as if by mutual +instinct, we swam for the same.</p> + +<p>“Hurra! they are saved!—they are alongside!” was shouted by the eager +crew. We both grasped the rope at the same time: a slight struggle +ensued: I had the highest hold. Regardless of every thing but my own +safety, I placed my feet on the black’s shoulders, scrambled up the +side, and fell exhausted on the deck. The negro followed roaring with +pain, for the shark had taken away part of his heel. Since then, I have +never bathed at sea; nor, I believe, has Sambo been ever heard again to +assert that he would swim after a shark if he met one in the water.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="the_two_thompsons" id="the_two_thompsons"></a>[From Howitt’s Country Year-Book.]</p> + +<h2>THE TWO THOMPSONS.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">By</span> the wayside, not far from the town of Mansfield—on a high and heathy +ground, which gives a far-off view of the minster of Lincoln—you may +behold a little clump of trees, encircled by a wall. That is called +<span class="smcap">Thompson’s Grave</span>. But who is this Thompson; and why lies he so far from +his fellows? In ground unconsecrated; in the desert, or on the verge of +it—for cultivation now approaches it? The poor man and his wants spread +themselves, and corn and potatoes crowd upon Thompson’s grave. But who +is this Thompson; and why lies he here?</p> + +<p>In the town of Mansfield there was a poor boy, and this poor boy became +employed in a hosier’s warehouse. From the warehouse his assiduity and +probity sent him to the counting-house; from the counting-house, abroad. +He traveled to carry stockings to the Asiatic and the people of the +south. He sailed up the rivers of Persia, and saw the tulips growing +wild on their banks, with many a lily and flower of our proudest +gardens. He traveled in Spain and Portugal, and was in Lisbon when the +great earthquake shook his house over his head. He fled. The streets +reeled; the houses fell; church towers dashed down in thunder across his +path. There were flying crowds, shrieks, and dust, and darkness. But he +fled on. The farther, the more misery. Crowds filled the fields when he +reached them—naked, half-naked, terrified, starving, and looking in +vain for a refuge. He fled across the hills, and gazed. The whole huge +city rocked and staggered below. There were clouds of dust, columns of +flame, the thunder of down-crashing buildings, the wild cries of men. He +suffered amid ten thousand suffering outcasts.</p> + +<p>At length, the tumult ceased; the earth became stable. With other ruined +and curious men he climbed over the heaps of desolation in quest of what +once was his home, and the depository of his property. His servant was +nowhere to be seen: Thompson felt that he must certainly have been +killed. After many days’ quest, and many uncertainties, he found the +spot where his house had stood; it was a heap of rubbish. His servant +and merchandise lay beneath it. He had money enough, or credit enough, +to set to work men to clear away some of the fallen materials, and to +explore whether any amount of property were recoverable. What’s that +sound? A subterranean, or subruinan, voice? The workmen stop, and are +ready to fly with fear. Thompson exhorts them, and they work on. But +again that voice! No <em>human</em> creature can be living there. The laborers +again turn to fly. They are a poor, ignorant, and superstitious crew; +but Thompson’s commands, and Thompson’s gold, arrest them. They work on, +and out walks Thompson’s living servant, still in the body, though a +body not much more substantial than a ghost All cry, “How have you +managed to live?”</p> + +<p>“I fled to the cellar. I have sipped the wine; but now I want bread, +meat, every thing!” and the living skeleton walked staggeringly on, and +looked voraciously for shops and loaves, and saw only brickbats and +ruins.</p> + +<p>Thompson recovered his goods, and retreated as soon as possible to his +native land. Here, in his native town, the memory of the earthquake +still haunted him. He used almost daily to hasten out of the place, and +up the forest hill, where he imagined that he saw Lisbon reeling, +tottering, churches falling, and men flying. But he saw only the red +tiles of some thousand peaceful houses, and the twirling of a dozen +windmill sails. Here he chose his burial-ground; walled it, and planted +it, and left special directions for his burial. The grave should be +deep, and the spades of resurrection-men disappointed by repeated layers +of straw, not easy to dig through. In the church-yard of Mansfield, +meantime, he found the grave of his parents, and honored it with an +inclosure of iron palisades.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span></p> + +<p>He died. How? Not in travel; not in sailing over the ocean, nor up +tulip-margined rivers of Persia or Arabia Felix; nor yet in an +earthquake—but in the dream of one. One night he was heard crying in a +voice of horror, “There! there!—fly! fly!—the town shakes! the house +falls! Ha! the earth opens!—away!” Then the voice ceased; but in the +morning it was found that he had rolled out of bed, lodged between the +bedstead and the wall, and there, like a sandbag wedged in a windy +crevice, he was—dead!</p> + +<p>There is, therefore, a dead Thompson in Sherwood Forest, where no +clergyman laid him, and yet he sleeps; and there is also a living +Thompson.</p> + +<p>In the village of Edwinstowe, on the very verge of the beautiful old +Birkland, there stands a painter’s house. In his little parlor you find +books, and water-color-paintings on the walls, which show that the +painter has read and looked about him in the world. And yet he is but a +house-painter, who owes his establishment here to his love of nature +rather than to his love of art. In the neighboring Dukery, some one of +the wealthy wanted a piece of oak-painting done; but he was dissatisfied +with the style in which painters now paint oak; a style very splendid, +but as much resembling genuine oak as a frying-pan resembles the moon. +Christopher Thompson determined to try <em>his</em> hand; and for this purpose +he did not put himself to school to some great master of the art, who +had copied the copy of a hundred consecutive copies of a piece of oak, +till the thing produced was very fine, but like no wood that ever grew +or ever will grow. Christopher Thompson went to nature. He got a piece +of well-figured, real oak, well planed and polished, and copied it +precisely. When the different specimens of the different painters were +presented to the aforesaid party, he found only one specimen at all like +oak, and that was Thompson’s. The whole crowd of master house-painters +were exasperated and amazed. Such a fellow preferred to them! No; they +were wrong; it was nature that was preferred.</p> + +<p>Christopher Thompson was a self-taught painter. He had been tossed about +the world in a variety of characters—errand-boy, brickmakers’ boy, +potter, shipwright, sailor, sawyer, strolling player; and here he +finally settled down as painter, and, having achieved a trade, he turned +author, and wrote his life. That life—<cite>The Autobiography of an +Artisan</cite>—is one of the best written and most interesting books of its +class that we ever read. It is full of the difficulties of a poor man’s +life, and of the resolute spirit that conquers them. It is, moreover, +full of a desire to enlighten, elevate, and in every way better the +condition of his fellow-men. Christopher Thompson is not satisfied to +have made his own way; he is anxious to pave the way for the whole +struggling population. He is a zealous politician, and advocate of the +Odd Fellow system, as calculated to link men together and give them +power, while it gives them a stimulus to social improvement. He has +labored to diffuse a love of reading, and to establish mechanics’ +libraries in neglected and obscure places.</p> + +<p>Behold the Thompson of Edwinstowe. Time, in eight-and-forty years, has +whitened his hair, though it has left the color of health on his cheek, +and the fire of intelligence in his eye. With a well-built frame and +figure, and a comely countenance, there is a buoyancy of step, an energy +of manner about him, that agree with what he has written of his life and +aspirations. Such are the men that England is now, ever and anon, in +every nook and corner of the island, producing. She produces them +because they are needed. They are the awakeners who are to stir up the +sluggish to what the time demands of them.</p> + +<p>The two Thompsons of Sherwood are types of their ages. He of the +grave—lies solitary and apart from his race. He lived to earn +money—his thought was for himself—and there he sleeps, alone in his +glory—such as it is. He was no worse, nay, he was better than many of +his contemporaries. He had no lack of benevolence; but trade and the +spirit of his age, cold and unsympathetic, absorbed him. He was content +to lie alone in the desert, amid the heath “that knows not when good +cometh,” and where the lonely raven perches on the blasted tree.</p> + +<p>The living Thompson is, too, the man of his age: for it is an age of +awakening enterprise, of wider views, of stronger sympathies. He lives +and works, not for himself alone. His motto is Progress; and while the +forest whispers to him of the past, books and his own heart commune with +him of the future. Such men belong to both. When the present becomes the +past, their work will survive them; and their tomb will not be a desert, +but the grateful memories of improved men. May they spring up in every +hamlet, and carry knowledge and refinement to every cottage fireside!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Habits_of_the_African_Lion" id="Habits_of_the_African_Lion"></a>[From Five Years’ Hunting Adventures in South Africa.]</p> + +<h2>HABITS OF THE AFRICAN LION.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> night of the 19th was to me rather a memorable one, as being the +first on which I had the satisfaction of hearing the deep-toned thunder +of the lion’s roar. Although there was no one near to inform me by what +beast the haughty and impressive sounds which echoed through the +wilderness were produced, I had little difficulty in divining. There was +no mistake about it; and on hearing it I at once knew, as well as if +accustomed to the sound from my infancy; that the appalling roar which +was uttered within half a mile of me was no other than that of the +mighty and terrible king of beasts. Although the dignified and truly +monarchical appearance of the lion has long rendered him famous among +his fellow quadrupeds, and his appearance and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span> habits have oftener been +described by abler pens than mine, nevertheless I consider that a few +remarks, resulting from my own personal experience, formed by a +tolerable long acquaintance with him, both by day and by night, may not +prove uninteresting to the reader. There is something so noble and +imposing in the presence of the lion, when seen walking with dignified +self-possession, free and undaunted, on his native soil, that no +description can convey an adequate idea of his striking appearance. The +lion is exquisitely formed by nature for the predatory habits which he +is destined to pursue. Combining in comparatively small compass the +qualities of power and agility, he is enabled, by means of the +tremendous machinery with which nature has gifted him, easily to +overcome and destroy almost every beast of the forest, however superior +to him in weight and stature.</p> + +<p>Though considerably under four feet in height, he has little difficulty +in dashing to the ground and overcoming the lofty and apparently +powerful giraffe, whose head towers above the trees of the forest, and +whose skin is nearly an inch in thickness. The lion is the constant +attendant of the vast herds of buffaloes which frequent the interminable +forests of the interior; and a full-grown one, so long as his teeth are +unbroken, generally proves a match for an old bull buffalo, which in +size and strength greatly surpasses the most powerful breed of English +cattle: the lion also preys on all the larger varieties of the +antelopes, and on both varieties of the gnoo. The zebra, which is met +with in large herds throughout the interior, is also a favorite object +of his pursuit.</p> + +<p>Lions do not refuse, as has been asserted, to feast upon the venison +that they have not killed themselves. I have repeatedly discovered lions +of all ages which had taken possession of, and were feasting upon, the +carcasses of various game quadrupeds which had fallen before my rifle. +The lion is very generally diffused throughout the secluded parts of +Southern Africa. He is, however, nowhere met with in great abundance, it +being very rare to find more than three, or even two, families of lions +frequenting the same district and drinking at the same fountain. When a +greater number were met with, I remarked that it was owing to +long-protracted droughts, which, by drying nearly all the fountains, had +compelled the game of various districts to crowd the remaining springs, +and the lions, according to their custom, followed in the wake. It is a +common thing to come upon a full-grown lion and lioness associating with +three or four large young ones nearly full-grown; at other times, +full-grown males will be found associating and hunting together in a +happy state of friendship: two, three, and four full-grown male lions +may thus be discovered consorting together.</p> + +<p>The male lion is adorned with a long, rank, shaggy mane, which in some +instances, almost sweeps the ground. The color of these manes varies, +some being very dark, and others of a golden yellow. This appearance has +given rise to a prevailing opinion among the boers that there are two +distinct varieties of lions, which they distinguish by the respective +names of “Schwart fore life” and “Chiel fore life:” this idea, however, +is erroneous. The color of the lion’s mane is generally influenced by +his age. He attains his mane in the third year of his existence. I have +remarked that at first it is of a yellowish color; in the prime of life +it is blackest, and when he has numbered many years, but still is in the +full enjoyment of his power, it assumes a yellowish-gray, +pepper-and-salt sort of color. These old fellows are cunning and +dangerous, and most to be dreaded. The females are utterly destitute of +a mane, being covered with a short, thick, glossy coat of tawny hair. +The manes and coats of lions frequenting open-lying districts utterly +destitute of trees, such as the borders of the great Kalahari desert, +are more rank and handsome than those inhabiting forest districts.</p> + +<p>One of the most striking things connected with the lion is his voice, +which is extremely grand and peculiarly striking. It consists at times +of a low, deep moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly +audible sighs; at other times he startles the forest with loud, +deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick +succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his +voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling +distant thunder. At times, and not unfrequently, a troop may be heard +roaring in concert, one assuming the lead, and two, three, or four more +regularly taking up their parts, like persons singing a catch. Like our +Scottish stags at the rutting season, they roar loudest in cold, frosty +nights; but on no occasions are their voices to be heard in such +perfection, or so intensely powerful, as when two or three strange +troops of lions approach a fountain to drink at the same time. When this +occurs, every member of each troop sounds a bold roar of defiance at the +opposite parties; and when one roars, all roar together, and each seems +to vie with his comrades in the intensity and power of his voice.</p> + +<p>The power and grandeur of these nocturnal forest concerts is +inconceivably striking and pleasing to the hunter’s ear. The effect, I +may remark, is greatly enhanced when the hearer happens to be situated +in the depths of the forest, at the dead hour of midnight, unaccompanied +by any attendant, and ensconced within twenty yards of the fountain +which the surrounding troops of lions are approaching. Such has been my +situation many scores of times; and though I am allowed to have a +tolerable good taste for music, I consider the catches with which I was +then regaled as the sweetest and most natural I ever heard.</p> + +<p>As a general rule, lions roar during the night; their sighing moans +commencing as the shades of evening envelop the forest, and continuing +at intervals throughout the night. In distant and secluded regions, +however, I have constantly heard them roaring loudly as late as nine and +ten o’clock on a bright sunny morning. In hazy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span> and rainy weather they +are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is subdued. It +often happens that when two strange male lions meet at a fountain, a +terrific combat ensues, which not unfrequently ends in the death of one +of them. The habits of the lion are strictly nocturnal; during the day +he lies concealed beneath the shade of some low, bushy tree or +wide-spreading bush, either in the level forest or on the mountain side. +He is also partial to lofty reeds, or fields of long, rank, yellow +grass, such as occur in low-lying vleys. From these haunts he sallies +forth when the sun goes down, and commences his nightly prowl. When he +is successful in his beat and has secured his prey, he does not roar +much that night, only uttering occasionally a few low moans; that is, +provided no intruders approach him, otherwise the case would be very +different.</p> + +<p>Lions are ever most active, daring, and presuming in dark and stormy +nights, and consequently, on such occasions, the traveler ought more +particularly to be on his guard. I remarked a fact connected with the +lions’ hour of drinking peculiar to themselves: they seemed unwilling to +visit the fountains with good moonlight. Thus, when the moon rose early, +the lions deferred their hour of watering until late in the morning; and +when the moon rose late, they drank at a very early hour in the night. +By this acute system many a grisly lion saved his bacon, and is now +luxuriating in the forests of South Africa, which had otherwise fallen +by the barrels of my “Westley Richards.” Owing to the tawny color of the +coat with which nature has robed him, he is perfectly invisible in the +dark; and although I have often heard them loudly lapping the water +under my very nose, not twenty yards from me. I could not possibly make +out so much as the outline of their forms. When a thirsty lion comes to +water, he stretches out his massive arms, lies down on his breast to +drink, and makes a loud lapping noise in drinking not to be mistaken. He +continues lapping up the water for a long while, and four or five times +during the proceeding he pauses for half a minute as if to take breath. +One thing conspicuous about them is their eyes, which, in a dark night, +glow like two balls of fire. The female is more fierce and active than +the male, as a general rule. Lionesses which have never had young are +much more dangerous than those which have. At no time is the lion so +much to be dreaded as when his partner has got small young ones. At that +season he knows no fear, and, in the coolest and most intrepid manner, +he will face a thousand men. A remarkable instance of this kind came +under my own observation, which confirmed the reports I had before heard +from the natives. One day, when out elephant-hunting in the territory of +the “Baseleka,” accompanied by two hundred and fifty men, I was +astonished suddenly to behold a majestic lion slowly and steadily +advancing toward us with a dignified step and undaunted bearing, the +most noble and imposing that can be conceived. Lashing his tail from +side to side, and growling haughtily, his terribly expressive eye +resolutely fixed upon us, and displaying a show of ivory well calculated +to inspire terror among the timid “Bechuanas,” he approached. A headlong +flight of the two hundred and fifty men was the immediate result; and, +in the confusion of the moment, four couples of my dogs, which they had +been leading, were allowed to escape in their couples. These instantly +faced the lion, who, finding that by his bold bearing he had succeeded +in putting his enemies to flight, now became solicitous for the safety +of his little family, with which the lioness was retreating in the +background. Facing about, he followed after them with a haughty and +independent step, growling fiercely at the dogs which trotted along on +either side of him. Three troops of elephants having been discovered a +few minutes previous to this, upon which I was marching for the attack, +I, with the most heartfelt reluctance, reserved my fire. On running down +the hill side to endeavor to recall my dogs, I observed, for the first +time, the retreating lioness with four cubs. About twenty minutes +afterward two noble elephants repaid my forbearance.</p> + +<p>Among Indian Nimrods, a certain class of royal tigers is dignified with +the appellation of “man-eaters.” These are tigers which, having once +tasted human flesh, show a predilection for the same, and such +characters are very naturally famed and dreaded among the natives. +Elderly gentlemen of similar tastes and habits are occasionally met with +among the lions in the interior of South Africa, and the danger of such +neighbors may be easily imagined. I account for lions first acquiring +this taste in the following manner: the Bechuana tribes of the far +interior do not bury their dead, but unceremoniously carry them forth, +and leave them lying exposed in the forest or on the plain, a prey to +the lion and hyæna, or the jackal and vulture; and I can readily imagine +that a lion, having thus once tasted human flesh, would have little +hesitation, when opportunity presented itself, of springing upon and +carrying off the unwary traveler or “Bechuana” inhabiting his country. +Be this as it may, man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting +expedition, a horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little +lonely camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived me, in +the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In winding up these few +observations on the lion, which I trust will not have been tiresome to +the reader, I may remark that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is +decidedly a dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a +certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have naturally a +turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of death, perfect coolness +and self-possession, an acquaintance with the disposition and manners of +lions, and a tolerable knowledge of the use of the rifle, are +indispensable to him who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting +pastime of hunting this justly-celebrated king of beasts.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="the_old_church-yard_tree" id="the_old_church-yard_tree"></a>[From Dickens’s Household Words.]</p> + +<h2>THE OLD CHURCH-YARD TREE.</h2> + +<h3>A PROSE POEM.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">There</span> is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet corner +of the church-yard.</p> + +<p>And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine +day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the +fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to +himself as he wove them into garlands.</p> + +<p>And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen; but +the boy was so intent upon his garland, that he did not hear the gentle +footsteps as they trod softly over the fresh green grass. When his work +was finished, and all the flowers that were in his lap were woven +together in one long wreath, he started, up to measure its length upon +the ground, and then he saw the little girl, as she stood with her eyes +fixed upon him. He did not move or speak, but thought to himself that +she looked very beautiful as she stood there with her flaxen ringlets +hanging down upon her neck. The little girl was so startled by his +sudden movement, that she let fall all the flowers she had collected in +her apron, and ran away as fast as she could. But the boy was older and +taller than she, and soon caught her, and coaxed her to come back and +play with him, and help him to make more garlands; and from that time +they saw each other nearly every day, and became great friends.</p> + +<p>Twenty years passed away. Again, he was seated beneath the old yew tree +in the church-yard.</p> + +<p>It was summer now; bright, beautiful summer, with the birds singing, and +the flowers covering the ground, and scenting the air with their +perfume.</p> + +<p>But he was not alone now, nor did the little girl steal near on tiptoe, +fearful of being heard. She was seated by his side, and his arm was +round her, and she looked up into his face, and smiled as she whispered: +“The first evening of our lives we were ever together was passed here: +we will spend the first evening of our wedded life in the same quiet, +happy place.” And he drew her closer to him as she spoke.</p> + +<p>The summer is gone; and the autumn; and twenty more summers and autumns +have passed away since that evening, in the old church-yard.</p> + +<p>A young man, on a bright moonlight night, comes reeling through the +little white gate, and stumbling over the graves. He shouts and he +sings, and is presently followed by others like unto himself, or worse. +So, they all laugh at the dark solemn head of the yew tree, and throw +stones up at the place where the moon has silvered the boughs.</p> + +<p>Those same boughs are again silvered by the moon, and they droop over +his mother’s grave. There is a little stone which bears this +inscription:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“HER HEART BRAKE IN SILENCE.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But the silence of the church-yard is now broken by a voice—not of the +youth—nor a voice of laughter and ribaldry.</p> + +<p>“My son! dost thou see this grave? and dost thou read the record in +anguish, whereof may come repentance?”</p> + +<p>“Of what should I repent?” answers the son; “and why should my young +ambition for fame relax in its strength because my mother was old and +weak?”</p> + +<p>“Is this indeed our son?” says the father, bending in agony over the +grave of his beloved.</p> + +<p>“I can well believe I am not;” exclaimeth the youth. “It is well that +you have brought me here to say so. Our natures are unlike; our courses +must be opposite. Your way lieth here—mine yonder!”</p> + +<p>So the son left the father kneeling by the grave.</p> + +<p>Again a few years are passed. It is winter, with a roaring wind and a +thick gray fog. The graves in the church-yard are covered with snow, and +there are great icicles in the church-porch. The wind now carries a +swathe of snow along the tops of the graves, as though the “sheeted +dead” were at some melancholy play; and hark! the icicles fall with a +crash and jingle, like a solemn mockery of the echo of the unseemly +mirth of one who is now coming to his final rest.</p> + +<p>There are two graves near the old yew tree; and the grass has overgrown +them. A third is close by; and the dark earth at each side has just been +thrown up. The bearers come; with a heavy pace they move along; the +coffin heaveth up and down, as they step over the intervening graves.</p> + +<p>Grief and old age had seized upon the father, and worn out his life; and +premature decay soon seized upon the son, and gnawed away his vain +ambition, and his useless strength, till he prayed to be borne, not the +way yonder that was most opposite to his father and his mother, but even +the same way they had gone—the way which leads to the Old Church-yard +Tree.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_ENGLISH_PEASANT" id="THE_ENGLISH_PEASANT"></a>THE ENGLISH PEASANT.</h2> + +<h3>BY HOWITT.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> English peasant is generally reckoned a very simple, monotonous +animal; and most people, when they have called him a clown, or a +country-hob, think they have described him. If you see a picture of him, +he is a long, silly-looking fellow, in a straw hat, a white slop, and a +pair of ankle-boots, with a bill in his hand—just as the London artist +sees him in the juxta-metropolitan districts; and that is the English +peasant. They who have gone farther into England, however, than Surrey, +Kent, or Middlesex, have seen the English peasant in some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> different +costume, under a good many different aspects; and they who will take the +trouble to recollect what they have heard of him, will find him a rather +multifarious creature. He is, in truth, a very Protean personage. What +is he, in fact? A day-laborer, a woodman, a plowman, a wagoner, a +collier, a worker in railroad and canal making, a gamekeeper, a poacher, +an incendiary, a charcoal-burner, a keeper of village ale-houses, and +Tom-and-Jerrys; a tramp, a pauper, pacing sullenly in the court-yard of +a parish-union, or working in his frieze jacket on some parish-farm; a +boatman, a road-side stone-breaker, a quarryman, a journeyman +bricklayer, or his clerk; a shepherd, a drover, a rat-catcher, a +mole-catcher, and a hundred other things; in any one of which, he is as +different from the sheepish, straw-hatted, and ankle-booted, +bill-holding fellow of the print-shop windows, as a cockney is from a +Newcastle keelman.</p> + +<p>In the matter of costume only, every different district presents him in +a different shape. In the counties round London, eastward and westward, +through Berkshire, Hampshire, Wiltshire, etc., he is the <em>white-slopped</em> +man of the London prints, with a longish, rosy-cheeked face, and a +stupid, quiet manner. In Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, and in that +direction, he sports his <em>olive-green</em> slop, and his wide-awake, larking +hat, bit-o’-blood, or whatever else the hatters call those +round-crowned, turned-up-brimmed felts of eighteen-pence or two +shillings cost, which have of late years so wonderfully taken the fancy +of the country-chaps. In the Midland counties, especially +Leicestershire, Derby, Nottingham, Warwick, and Staffordshire, he dons a +<em>blue-slop</em>, called the Newark frock, which is finely gathered in a +square piece of puckerment on the back and breast, on the shoulders and +at the wrists; is adorned also, in those parts, with flourishes of white +thread, and as invariably has a little white heart stitched in at the +bottom of the slit at the neck. A man would not think himself a man, if +he had not one of those slops, which are the first things that he sees +at a market or a fair, hung aloft at the end of the slop-vender’s stall, +on a crossed pole, and waving about like a scarecrow in the wind.</p> + +<p>Under this he generally wears a coarse blue jacket, a red or yellow shag +waistcoat, stout blue worsted stockings, tall laced ankle-boots, and +corduroy breeches or trowsers. A red handkerchief round his neck is his +delight, with two good long ends dangling in front. In many other parts +of the country, he wears no slop at all, but a corduroy or fustian +jacket, with capacious pockets, and buttons of giant size.</p> + +<p>That is his every-day, work-a-day style; but see him on a Sunday, or a +holiday—see him turn out to church, wake, or fair—there’s a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">beau</span> for +you! If he has not his best slop on, which has never yet been defiled by +touch of labor, he is conspicuous in his blue, brown, or olive-green +coat, and waistcoat of glaring color—scarlet, or blue, or green +striped—but it must be showy; and a pair of trowsers, generally blue, +with a width nearly as ample as a sailor’s, and not only guiltless of +the foppery of being strapped down, but if he find the road rather +dirty, or the grass dewy, they are turned up three or four inches at the +bottom, so as to show the lining. On those days, he has a hat of modern +shape, that has very lately cost him four-and-sixpence; and if he fancy +himself rather handsome, or stands well with the women, he cocks it a +little on one side, and wears it with a knowing air. He wears the collar +of his coarse shirt up on a holiday, and his flaming handkerchief round +his neck puts forth dangling ends of an extra length, like streamers. +The most troublesome business of a full-dress day is to know what to do +with his hands. He is dreadfully at a loss where to put them. On other +days, they have plenty of occupation with their familiar implements, but +to-day they are miserably sensible of a vacuum; and, except he be very +old, he wears no gloves. They are sometimes diving into his +trowser-pockets, sometimes into his waistcoat-pocket, and at others into +his coat-pockets behind, turning his laps out like a couple of tails.</p> + +<p>The great remedy for this inconvenience is a stick, or a switch; and in +the corner of his cottage, between the clock-case and the wall, you +commonly see a stick of a description that indicates its owner. It is an +ash-plant, with a face cut on its knob; or a thick hazel, which a +woodbine has grown tightly round, and raised on it a spiral, serpentine +swelling; or it is a switch, that is famous for cutting off the heads of +thistles, docks, and nettles, as he goes along.</p> + +<p>The women, in their paraphernalia, generally bear a nearer resemblance +to their sisters of the town; the village dressmaker undertaking to put +them into the very newest fashion which has reached that part of the +country; and truly, were it not for the genuine country manner in which +their clothes are thrown on, they might pass very well, too, at the +market.</p> + +<p>But the old men and old women, they are of the ancient world, truly. +There they go, tottering and stooping along to church! It is now their +longest journey. The old man leans heavily on his stout stick. His thin +white hair covers his shoulders; his coat, with large steel buttons, and +square-cut collar, has an antique air; his breeches are of leather, and +worn bright with age, standing up at the knees, like the lids of +tankards; and his loose shoes have large steel buckles. By his side, +comes on his old dame, with her little, old-fashioned black bonnet; her +gown, of a large flowery pattern, pulled up through the pocket-hole, +showing a well-quilted petticoat, black stockings, high-heeled shoes, +and large buckles also. She has on a black mode cloak, edged with +old-fashioned lace, carefully darned; or if winter, her warm red cloak, +with a narrow edging of fur down the front. You see, in fancy, the oaken +chest in which that drapery has been kept for the last half century; and +you wonder who is to wear it next. Not their children—for the fashions +of this world are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> changed; they must be cut down into primitive raiment +for the grandchildren.</p> + +<p>But who says the English peasant is dull and unvaried in his character? +To be sure, he has not the wild wit, the voluble tongue, the reckless +fondness for laughing, dancing, carousing, and shillalying of the Irish +peasant; nor the grave, plodding habits and intelligence of the Scotch +one. He may be said, in his own phraseology, to be “betwixt and +between.” He has wit enough when it is wanted; he can be merry enough +when there is occasion; he is ready for a row when his blood is well up; +and he will take to his book, if you will give him a schoolmaster. What +is he, indeed, but the rough block of English character? Hew him out of +the quarry of ignorance; dig him out of the slough of everlasting labor; +chisel him, and polish him; and he will come out whatever you please. +What is the stuff of which your armies have been chiefly made, but this +English peasant? Who won your Cressys, your Agincourts, your Quebecs, +your Indies, East and West, and your Waterloos, but the English peasant, +trimmed and trained into the game-cock of war? How many of them have +been carried off to man your fleets, to win your Camperdowns and +Trafalgars? and when they came ashore again, were no longer the simple, +slouching Simons of the village; but jolly tars, with rolling gait, quid +in mouth, glazed hats, with crowns of one inch high, and brims of five +wide, and with as much glib slang, and glib money to treat the girls +with, as any Jack of them all.</p> + +<p>Cowper has drawn a capital picture of the ease and perfection with which +the clownish chrysalis may be metamorphosed into the scarlet moth of +war. Catch the animal young, and you may turn him into any shape you +please. He will learn to wear silk stockings, scarlet plush breeches, +collarless coats, with silver buttons; and swing open a gate with a +grace, or stand behind my lady’s carriage with his wand, as smoothly +impudent as any of the tribe. He will clerk it with a pen behind his +ear; or mount a pulpit, as Stephen Duck, the thresher, did, if you will +only give him the chance. The fault is not in him, it is in fortune. He +has rich fallows in his soul, if any body thought them worth turning. +But keep him down, and don’t press him too hard; feed him pretty well, +and give him plenty of work; and, like one of his companions, the +cart-horse, he will drudge on till the day of his death.</p> + +<p>So in the north of England, where they give him a cottage and his food, +and keep no more of his species than will just do the work, letting all +the rest march off to the Tyne collieries; he is a very patient +creature; and if they did not show him books, would not wince at all. So +in the fens of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdon, and on many +a fat and clayey level of England, where there are no resident gentry, +and but here and there a farm-house, you may meet, the English peasant +in his most sluggish and benumbed condition. He is then a long-legged, +staring creature, considerably “lower than the angels,” who, if you ask +him a question, gapes like an Indian frog, which, when its mouth is +open, has its head half off; and neither understands your language, nor, +if he did, could grasp your ideas. He is there a walking lump, a thing +with members, but very little membership with the intellectual world; +but with a soul as stagnant as one of his own dykes. All that has been +wanted in him has been cultivated, and is there—good sturdy limbs, to +plow and sow, reap and mow, and feed bullocks; and even in those +operations, his sinews have been half-superseded by machinery. There +never was any need of his mind; and, therefore, it never has been +minded.</p> + +<p>This is the English peasant, where there is nobody to breathe a soul +into the clod. But what is he where there are thousands of the wealthy +and the wise? What is he round London—the great, the noble, and the +enlightened? Pretty much the same, and from pretty much the same causes. +Few trouble themselves about him. He feels that he is a mere serf, among +the great and free; a mere machine in the hands of the mighty, who use +him as such. He sees the sunshine of grandeur, but he does not feel its +warmth. He hears that the great folks are wise; but all he knows is, +that their wisdom does not trouble itself about his ignorance. He asks, +with “The Farmer’s Boy,”</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whence comes this change, ungracious, irksome, cold?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whence this new grandeur that mine eyes behold?—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The widening distance that I daily see?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Has wealth done this? Then wealth’s a foe to me!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Foe to my rights, that leaves a powerful few<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The paths of emulation to pursue.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Beneath the overwhelming sense of his position, that he belongs to a +neglected, despised caste, he is, in the locality alluded to, truly a +dull fellow. That the peasant there is not an ass or a sheep, you only +know by his standing on end. You hear no strains of country drollery, +and no characters of curious or eccentric humor; all is dull, plodding, +and lumpish.</p> + +<p>But go forth, my masters, to a greater distance from the luminous +capital of England; get away into the Midland and more Northern +counties, where the pride of greatness is not so palpably before the +poor man’s eyes—where the peasantry and villagers are numerous enough +to keep one another in countenance; and there you shall find the English +peasant a “happier and a wiser man.” Sunday-schools, and village +day-schools, give him at least the ability to read the Bible. There, the +peasant feels that he is a man; he speaks in a broad dialect, indeed, +but he is “a fellow of infinite jest.” Hear him in the hay-field, in the +corn-field, at the harvest-supper, or by the village ale-house fire, if +he be not very refined, he is, nevertheless, a very independent fellow. +Look at the man indeed! None of your long, lanky fellows, with a sleepy +visage; but a sturdy, square-built chap, propped on a pair of legs, that +have self-will, and the spirit of Hampden in them, as plain as the ribs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span> +of the gray-worsted stockings that cover them. What thews, what sinews, +what a pair of <em>calves</em>! why, they more resemble a couple of full-grown +<em>bulls</em>! See to his salutation, as he passes any of his neighbors—hear +it. Does he touch his hat, and bow his head, and look down, as the great +man goes by in his carriage? No! he leaves that to the cowed bumpkin of +the south. He looks his rich-neighbor full in the face, with a fearless, +but respectful gaze, and bolts from his manly breast a hearty, “Good day +to ye, sir!” To his other neighbor, his equal in worldly matters, he +extends his broad hand, and gives him a shake that is felt to the bottom +of the heart. “Well, and how are you, John?—and how’s Molly, and all +the little ankle-biters?—and how goes the pig on, and the garden—eh?”</p> + +<p>Let me hear the dialogue of those two brave fellows; there is the soul +of England’s brightest days in it. I am sick of slavish poverty on the +one hand, and callous pride on the other. I yearn for the sound of +language breathed from the lungs of humble independence, and the +cordial, earnest greetings of poor, but warm-hearted men, as I long for +the breeze of the mountains and the sea. Oh! I doubt much if this</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bold peasantry, a country’s pride,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>is lowered in its tone, both of heart-wholeness, boldness, and +affection, by the harsh times and harsh measures that have passed over +every district, even the most favored; or why all these emigrations, and +why all these parish-unions? What, then, is not the English peasant what +he was? If I went among them where I used to go, should I not find the +same merry groups seated among the sheaves, or under the hedgerows, full +of laughter, and full of droll anecdotes of all the country round? +Should I not hear of the farmer who never wrote but one letter in his +life, and that was to a gentleman forty miles off; who, on opening it, +and not being able to puzzle out more than the name and address of his +correspondent, mounted his horse in his vexation, and rode all the way +to ask the farmer to read the letter himself; and he could not do +it—could not read his own writing? Should I not hear Jonathan Moore, +the stout old mower, rallied on his address to the bull, when it pursued +him till he escaped into a tree? How Jonathan, sitting across a branch, +looked down with the utmost contempt on the bull, and endeavored to +convince him that he was a bully and a coward? “My! what a vaporing +coward art thou! Where’s the fairness, where’s the equalness of the +match? I tell thee, my heart’s good enough; but what’s my strength to +thine?”</p> + +<p>Should I not once more hear the hundred-times-told story of Jockey +Dawes, and the man who sold him his horse? Should I not hear these, and +scores of such anecdotes, that show the simple life of the district, and +yet have more hearty merriment in them than much finer stories in much +finer places? Hard times and hard measures may have, quenched some of +the ancient hilarity of the English peasant, and struck a silence into +lungs that were wont to “crow like chanticleer;” yet I will not believe +but that, in many a sweet and picturesque district, on many a brown +moor-land, in many a far-off glen and dale of our wilder and more +primitive districts, where the peasantry are almost the sole +inhabitants—whether shepherds, laborers, hewers of wood, or drawers of +waters—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i-4">The ancient spirit is not dead,</span> +</div></div> + + +<p>that homely and loving groups gather round evening fires, beneath low +and smoky rafters, and feel that they have labor and care enough, as +their fathers had, but that they have the pride of homes, hearts, and +sympathies still.</p> + +<p>Let England take care that these are the portion of the English peasant, +and he will never cease to show himself the noblest peasant on the face +of the earth. Is he not that, in his patience with penury with him, and +old age, and the union before him? Is he not that, when his landlord has +given him his sympathy? When he has given him an ALLOTMENT—who so +grateful, so industrious, so provident, so contented, and so +respectable?</p> + +<p>The English peasant has in his nature all the elements of the English +character. Give him ease, and who so readily pleased; wrong him, and who +so desperate in his rage?</p> + +<p>In his younger days, before the care of a family weighs on him, he is a +clumsy, but a very light-hearted creature. To see a number of young +country fellows get into play together, always reminds one of a quantity +of heavy cart-horses turned into a field on a Sunday. They gallop, and +kick, and scream. There is no malice, but a dreadful jeopardy of bruises +and broken ribs. Their play is truly called horse-play; it is all slaps +and bangs, tripping-up, tumbles, and laughter. But to see the young +peasant in his glory, you should see him hastening to the +Michaelmas-fair, statute, bull-roasting, or mop. He has served his year; +he has money in his pocket, his sweetheart on his arm, or he is sure to +meet her at the fair. Whether he goes again to his old place or a new +one, he will have a week’s holiday. Thus, on old Michaelmas-day, he and +all his fellows, all the country over, are let loose, and are on the way +to the fair. The houses are empty of them—the highways are full of +them; there they go, lads and lasses, streaming along, all in their +finery, and with a world of laughter and loud talk. See, here they come, +flocking into the market-town! And there, what preparations for them! +shows, strolling theatres, stalls of all kinds—bearing clothes of all +kinds, knives, combs, queen-cakes, and gingerbread, and a hundred +inventions to lure those hard-earned wages out of his fob. And he does +not mean to be stingy to-day; he will treat his lass, and buy her a new +gown into the bargain. See, how they go rolling on together! He holds up +his elbow sharply by his side; she thrusts her arm through his, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span><em>up to +the elbow</em>, and away they go—a walking miracle that they can walk +together at all. As to keeping step, that is out of the question; but, +besides this, they wag and roll about in such a way, that, keeping their +arms tightly linked, it is amazing that they don’t pull off one or the +other; but they don’t. They shall see the shows, and stand all in a +crowd before them, with open eyes and open mouths, wondering at the +beauty of the dancing-women, and their gowns all over spangles, and at +all the wit and grimaces, and somersets of harlequin and clown. They +have had a merry dinner and a dance, like a dance of elephants and +hippopotami; and then—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And these are the men that become sullen and desperate—that become +poachers and incendiaries. How and why! It is not plenty and kind words +that make them so? What, then? What makes the wolves herd together, and +descend from the Alps and the Pyrenees? What makes them desperate and +voracious, blind with fury, and reveling with vengeance? Hunger and +hardship!</p> + +<p>When the English peasant is gay, at ease, well-fed and clothed, what +cares he how many pheasants are in a wood, or ricks in a farmer’s yard? +When he has a dozen backs to clothe, and a dozen mouths to feed, and +nothing to put on the one, and little to put into the other—then that +which seemed a mere playful puppy, suddenly starts up a snarling, +red-eyed monster! How sullen he grows! With what equal indifference he +shoots down pheasants or game-keepers. How the man who so recently held +up his head and laughed aloud, now sneaks, a villainous fiend, with the +dark lantern and the match, to his neighbor’s rick! Monster! Can this be +the English peasant? ’Tis the same!—’tis the very man! But what has +made him so? What has thus demonized, thus infuriated, thus converted +him into a walking pestilence? Villain as he is, is he alone to +blame?—or is there another?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Maurice_Tiernay" id="Maurice_Tiernay"></a>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</p> + +<h2>MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE.</h2> + +<p class="center">[<em>Continued from Page</em> 340.]</p> + +<h3>CHAPTER IX.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">a scrape and its consequences.</span></h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">When</span> I reached the quarters of the état major, I found the great +court-yard of the “hotel” crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of +the service. Some were newly-joined recruits waiting for the orders to +be forwarded to their respective regiments. Some were invalids just +issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way +homeward. There were sergeants with billet rolls, and returns, and +court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents, hastening +hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went; +all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms +called out the orders from the different windows, and dispatches were +sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient +palace of the dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble +in the centre of the “Cour,” still showed the proud armorial bearings of +that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated +groups of soldiers; their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting +strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that +still decorated the rich “plateau.” Chakos, helmets, and great coats +were hung upon the orange trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the +white leather apron of the “sapeur,” were drying along the marble +benches of the terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, +which separated the court from the garden, was actually covered with +belts, swords, bayonets, and horse gear, in every stage and process of +cleaning. Within the garden itself, however, all was silent and still. +Two sentries, who paced backward and forward beneath the “grille,” +showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose careless +gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the mere “genius +of the place” would exercise over them.</p> + +<p>To me, the interest of every thing was increasing; and whether I +lingered to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at +all he saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old +soldiers of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they +were going; perhaps to the north to join the army of Sambre; perhaps to +the east, to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they were +destined for Italy: none cared! Meanwhile, at every moment, detachments +moved off, and their places were filled by fresh arrivals—all dusty and +way-worn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel, +when they were called on to “fall in,” and again the word “forward” was +given. Such of the infantry as appeared too weary for the march were +sent on in great charrettes drawn by six or eight horses, and capable of +carrying forty men in each; and of these, there seemed to be no end. No +sooner was one detachment away, than another succeeded. Whatever their +destination, one thing seemed evident, the urgency that called them was +beyond the common. For a while I forgot all about myself in the greater +interest of the scene; but then came the thought, that I, too, should +have my share in this onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my +young friend, the “Sous-Lieutenant.” I had not asked his name, but his +regiment I knew to be the 22d Chasseurs à Cheval. The uniform was light +green, and easily enough to be recognized; yet nowhere was it to be +seen. There were cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and +carabiniers in abundance—every thing, in short, but what I sought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22d were quartered, +and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that morning at +eight o’clock. There were two more squadrons expected to arrive at noon, +but the orders were that they were to proceed without further halt.</p> + +<p>“And whither to?” asked I.</p> + +<p>“To Treves, on the Moselle,” said he, and turned away as if he would not +be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not have +been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me. He was +to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have obtained +the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one even to +advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but could +resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now become a +reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles hastening +forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers just flushed +with recent victory; even the peasant boys were “eager for the fray;” +but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The enthusiasm of +all around only served to increase and deepen my depression. There was +not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran of the ranks to the +merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have exchanged fortunes. Some +hours passed over in these gloomy reveries, and when I looked up from +the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over me, “the Cour” was almost +empty. A few sick soldiers waiting for their billets of leave, a few +recruits not yet named to any corps, and a stray orderly or two standing +beside his horse, were all that remained.</p> + +<p>I arose to go away, but in my pre-occupation of mind, instead of turning +toward the street, I passed beneath a large arch-way into another court +of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in decoration and +ornament than the outer one. After spending some time admiring the +quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all the architraves +and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched door-way, in the middle +of which was a small railed window, like the grille of a convent. I +approached, and perceived that it led into a garden, by a long, narrow +walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a wall. The trimly-raked +gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge, showed the care bestowed on +the grounds to be a wide contrast to the neglect exhibited in the +mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths and carnations ran along +either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms appearing in strong +relief against the back-ground of dark foliage.</p> + +<p>The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of my +arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within the +precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire and +close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I could not +resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so tempting. There was +no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought it likely the garden +was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with cautious and uncertain +steps; at last, with more confidence, for as I issued from the +hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the solitude seemed +unbroken. Fruit trees, loaded with their produce, stood in a closely +shaven lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks planted +with daffodills and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about through the +grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn boldly came +over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not finding an old +friend, continued to walk beside me as I went.</p> + +<p>The grounds appeared of great extent; paths led off in every direction; +and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering roof and +sides of a conservatory, in others, the humble culture of a vegetable +garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in the calm and +tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so immediately after +the busy bustle of the “soldiering,” I soon not only forgot that I was +an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander “fancy free,” following +out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the +choice were given me, I would rather have been the “Adam of that Eden” +than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory! +Fortunately, or unfortunately—it would not be easy to decide which—the +alternative was not open to me. It was while I was still musing, I found +myself at the foot of a little eminence, on which stood a tower, whose +height and position showed it had been built for the view it afforded +over a vast tract of country. Even from where I stood, at its base, I +could see over miles and miles of a great plain, with the main roads +leading toward the north and eastward. This spot was also the boundary +of the grounds, and a portion of the old boulevard of the town formed +the defense against the open country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with +sides of sloping sward, cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order; but, +from its depth and width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was +peering cautiously down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to +my ear, that I started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the +speaker was directly above me; and leaning over the battlements at the +top of the tower.</p> + +<p>“You’re quite right, cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his eye, +and directed his view toward the plain. He <em>has</em> gone wrong! He has +taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one.”</p> + +<p>An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the +telescope passed to another hand, and to my astonishment, that of a +lady.</p> + +<p>“Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and +yet—Parbleu! it’s too bad!”</p> + +<p>I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but not +distinguish the words; when the man again spoke:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span></p><p>“No, no; it’s all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without an +orderly to send after him. Diable! it <em>is</em> provoking.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t that one of your people at the foot of the tower?” said the lady, +as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open, and +close over me; for as he moved his head to look down, I saw the epaulets +of a staff officer.</p> + +<p>“Halloa!” cried he, “are you on duty?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I was—”</p> + +<p>Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on,</p> + +<p>“Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road, and +tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned off +to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are +mounted, of course?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can—”</p> + +<p>“No, no; it will be too late,” he broke in again. “Take my troop horse, +and be off. You’ll find him in the stable, to your left.”</p> + +<p>Then turning to the lady I heard him say—</p> + +<p>“It may save Roquelard from an arrest.”</p> + +<p>I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had +pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in +the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I +guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door being +unlatched, I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were feeding +at the racks, their glossy coats and long silky manes showing the care +bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I surveyed them +all with keen and scrutinizing eye. All my skill in such matters was +unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable and +handsome—in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of +careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters +“R.F.;” and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful +black horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action, +while the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a +“tartar.” Making choice of him without an instant’s hesitation, I threw +on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the +bridle, and led him forth. In all my “school experience” I had never +seen an animal that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and +slightly-dipped back showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the +stronger qualities of the Norman horse. I sprung to my saddle with +delight; to be astride such a beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm +of my nature, and as I grasped the reins, and urged him forward, I was +half wild with excitement.</p> + +<p>Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for he +gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will give, +and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me. This +failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and threatening +even to fall backward. I saw that I had, indeed, selected a wicked one; +for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap, the object was +clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would crouch, as if to +lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air, with a toss up of +his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At another he would +spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a fish, till the +saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe body. Not only did I +resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued to punish with whip +and spur the entire time—a proceeding, I could easily see, he was not +prepared for. At last, actually maddened with his inability to throw me, +and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he broke away, and dashing +headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest of the grove. +Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of stunted growth, +so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger; but suddenly +emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if his passion +became more furious as he indulged it, he threw up his head, and struck +out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was heading for the +great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on its brink. A +shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower; but I heard +nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps at that moment +just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his flanks, and +over we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a seagull on a +wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat sobered <em>him</em>; but +on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt that I had gained +the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting punishment, then, +I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay straight before me. The +few fences which divided the great fields were too insignificant to be +called leaps, and he took them in the “sling” of his stretching gallop. +He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of my wrist, and obeying +every motive of my will like an instinct. It may read like a petty +victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph over an enraged and +powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are more pleasurably +exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne along in full speed, +leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge and mill behind +you—now careering up the mountain side, with the fresh breeze upon your +brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the hare from her +cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before you—it is still +increased by the sense of a victory, by feeling that the mastery is with +you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath you has its impulse +in your own heart.</p> + +<p>Although the cavalry squadrons I was dispatched to overtake had quitted +Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an hour, and +inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of the +division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> who listened +to my message without changing a muscle.</p> + +<p>“Who sent you with this order?” said he.</p> + +<p>“A general officer, sir, whose name I don’t know; but who told me to +take his own horse and follow you.”</p> + +<p>“Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir,” said he, pointing to the +heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast.</p> + +<p>“He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the +Boulevard, rode away with me.”</p> + +<p>“Why it’s Colonel Mahon’s Arab, ‘Aleppo,’” said another officer; “what +could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a best worth ten +thousand francs?”</p> + +<p>I thought I’d have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole +consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest, +trial, sentence, imprisonment, and heaven knew what afterward, like a +panorama rolling out to my view.</p> + +<p>“Tell the colonel, sir,” said the major, “that I have taken the north +road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery trains +have cut up the Metz road so deeply that cavalry can not travel; tell +him that I thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this dispatch +to me; and tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should +prevent my sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest, for +the manner in which you have ridden—you hear, sir?”</p> + +<p>I touched my cap in salute.</p> + +<p>“Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?”</p> + +<p>“I am, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Repeat it, then.”</p> + +<p>I mentioned the reply, word for word, as he spoke it.</p> + +<p>“No, sir,” said he, as I concluded; “I said for unsoldierlike and cruel +treatment to your horse.”</p> + +<p>One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly +added—</p> + +<p>“I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done so; +give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first.”</p> + +<p>“Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty,” muttered one of the captains.</p> + +<p>“I’d not blame him,” joined another; “that horse saved his life at +Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!”</p> + +<p>The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set out toward +Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate.</p> + +<p>If I did not feel that these brief records of an humble career were +“upon honor,” and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant can +teach is, the conflict between opposing influences, I might possibly be +disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along toward Nancy, a very +great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to desert! It is a +very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were not in the French +service any of those ignominious punishments which, once undergone, a +man is dishonored forever, and no more admissible to rank with men of +character than if convicted of actual crime; but there were marks of +degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and which men dreaded with +a fear nearly as acute—such, for instance, as being ordered for service +at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon—the arduous duty of guarding the +galley slaves, and which was scarcely a degree above the condition of +the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as this, I would willingly +have preferred death. It was, then, this thought that suggested +desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy temptation, and held on my +way toward Nancy.</p> + +<p>Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while he +showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue; and +as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at each +fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths, to give him +freedom, long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his +looks, and much of his spirit.</p> + +<p>At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart, I +found myself at the gate of the Ducal palace. The sentries suffered me +to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the court-yard, +toward the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left it, was +unlatched.</p> + +<p>It was strange enough, the nearer I drew toward the eventful moment of +my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is possible, +thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball through me, as +the officer said. Be it so—the matter is the sooner ended. If, however, +he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I may be able to assert +my innocence, at least so far as intention went. With this comforting +conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two dragoons in undress were +smoking, as they lay at full length upon a bench, and speedily arose as +I came up.</p> + +<p>“Tell the colonel he’s come, Jacques,” said one, in a loud voice, and +the other retired; while the speaker, turning toward me, took the bridle +from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word to me.</p> + +<p>“An active beast that,” said I, affecting the easiest and coolest +indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I +continued,</p> + +<p>“He has had a bad hand on him, I should say—some one too flurried and +too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse.”</p> + +<p>Another stare was all the reply.</p> + +<p>“In a little time, and with a little patience, I’d make him as gentle as +a lamb.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid you’ll not have the opportunity,” replied he, +significantly; “but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can +discuss the matter together.”</p> + +<p>The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to follow +him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span> at which a +sentry stood, and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide left me. An +orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and beckoning to me to +advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me forward, let the heavy +folds close behind me; and now I found myself in a richly-furnished +chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was at supper with a +young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax lights on the table—the +glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain—the richness of the lady’s +dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball—were all objects +distracting enough, but they could not turn me from the thought of my +own condition; and I stood still and motionless, while the officer, a +man of about fifty, with dark and stern features, deliberately scanned +me from head to foot. Not a word did he speak, not a gesture did he +make, but sat, with his black eyes actually piercing me. I would have +given any thing for some outbreak of anger, some burst of passion, that +would have put an end to this horrible suspense, but none came; and +there he remained several minutes, as if contemplating something too new +and strange for utterance. “This must have an end,” thought I—“here +goes;” and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said,</p> + +<p>“I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major +Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was +cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz +Chaussée as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of +your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded +his dispatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in +which I had ridden with the order.”</p> + +<p>“Any thing more?” asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and +guttural with passion.</p> + +<p>“Nothing more, sir.”</p> + +<p>“No further remark or observation?”</p> + +<p>“None, sir—at least from the major.”</p> + +<p>“What then—from any other?”</p> + +<p>“A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>“I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel +Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back.”</p> + +<p>“And you replied?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe I made any reply at the time, sir.”</p> + +<p>“But you thought, sir—what were your thoughts?”</p> + +<p>“I thought it very like what I’d have done myself in a like case, +although certain to be sorry for it afterward.”</p> + +<p>Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained, or +that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I can not tell, but the +lady here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly +checked by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features +grew sterner and darker every moment.</p> + +<p>“There we differ, sir,” said he, “for <em>I</em> should not.” At the same +instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small +portfolio, opening which he prepared to write.</p> + +<p>“You will bring this paper,” continued he, “to the ‘Prevot Marshal.’ +To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and +as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labor—”</p> + +<p>“I’ll save them the trouble,” said I, quietly drawing my sword; but +scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the lady, +who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant the +colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow upon +the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground.</p> + +<p>“You want the ‘fusillade’—is that what you want?” cried he, as, in a +towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now +standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes toward me, and at +once broke out into a burst of laughter; such hearty, merry laughter, +that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined +in it.</p> + +<p>“What is it—what do you mean, Laure?” cried the colonel angrily.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see it?” said she, still holding her kerchief to her +face—“can’t you perceive it yourself? He has only one mustache!”</p> + +<p>I turned hastily toward the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal +fact revealed—one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek, +while the other was left bare.</p> + +<p>“Is the fellow mad—a mountebank?” said the colonel, whose anger was now +at its white heat.</p> + +<p>“Neither, sir,” said I, tearing off my remaining mustache, in shame and +passion together. “Among my other misfortunes I have that of being +young; and what’s worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my +error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity +or temper.”</p> + +<p>With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every +glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath +that was only current in the days of that army. “This is beyond belief,” +cried he. “Come, gredin, you have at least had one piece of good +fortune: you’ve fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with +you. Your regiment?”</p> + +<p>“The Ninth Hussars.”</p> + +<p>“Your name.”</p> + +<p>“Tiernay.”</p> + +<p>“Tiernay; that’s not a French name?”</p> + +<p>“Not originally; we were Irish once.”</p> + +<p>“Irish!” said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used. +“Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in +the Royal Guard?”</p> + +<p>“His son, sir.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span></p><p>“What—his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother’s +name, then; what was it?”</p> + +<p>“I never knew which was my mother,” said I. “Mademoiselle de la +Lasterie, or—”</p> + +<p>He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck, +pressed me to his bosom.</p> + +<p>“You are little Maurice, then,” said he, “the son of my old and valued +comrade! Only think of it, Laure—I was that boy’s godfather.”</p> + +<p>Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great +effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated +between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me +with attention. It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a +fellow-guardsman with my father, for whom he had ever preserved the +warmest attachment. One of the few survivors of the “Garde du Corps,” he +had taken service with the republic, and was already reputed as one of +the most distinguished cavalry officers.</p> + +<p>“Strange enough, Maurice,” said he to me, “there was something in your +look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor +father to my memory; and, without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered +you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have ordered +you to be ironed and sent to prison.”</p> + +<p>Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not +speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own +adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the lady +enjoyed all the absurdities of my checkered fortune with a keen sense of +the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but so many +resemblances to my father’s character, and constantly broke out into +exclamations of “How like him!” “Just what he would have done himself!” +“His own very words!” and so on.</p> + +<p>It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the +mantle-piece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the +hour, and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next +morning, for absence from quarters.</p> + +<p>“Never fret about that, Maurice, I’ll return your name as on a special +service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you shall be +named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal.”</p> + +<p>“Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?” said the lady, in a half whisper. +“I’m sure he is better worth his epaulets than any I have seen on your +staff.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay,” muttered the colonel, “the rules of the service forbid it. +He’ll win his spurs time enough, or I’m much mistaken.”</p> + +<p>While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not +help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual +service; and that, proud as I should be of his protection, I would +rather merit it by my conduct, than owe my advancement to favor.</p> + +<p>“Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and +want to see how men comport themselves where the manœuvres are not +arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all +likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which you +may have advanced a stage or so toward those epaulets my fair friend +desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be sent +forward to your own corps. I’ll write to the colonel to confirm the rank +of corporal: the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and, if I +mistake not, will soon be actively employed. Come to me to-morrow, +before noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that +are sent forward.”</p> + +<p>A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady having +also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my leave, the +happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after hours, and as +indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of discipline as if +the whole code of martial law were a mere fable.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER X.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">an aristocratic republican.</span></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the worthy reader would wish to fancy the happiest of all youthful +beings, let him imagine what I must have been, as, mounted upon Aleppo, +a present from my godfather, with a purse of six shining Louis in my +pocket, and a letter to my colonel, I set forth for Metz. I had +breakfasted with Colonel Mahon, who, amid much good advice for my future +guidance, gave me, half slyly, to understand that the days of Jacobinism +had almost run their course, and that a reactionary movement had already +set in. The republic, he added, was as strong, perhaps stronger than +ever, but that men had grown weary of mob tyranny, and were, day by day, +reverting to the old loyalty, in respect for whatever pretended to +culture, good breeding, and superior intelligence. “As in a shipwreck, +the crew instinctively turn for counsel and direction to the officers, +you will see that France will, notwithstanding all the libertinism of +our age, place her confidence in the men who have been the tried and +worthy servants of former governments. So far, then, from suffering on +account of your gentle blood, Maurice, the time is not distant when it +will do you good service, and when every association that links you with +family and fortune will be deemed an additional guarantee of your good +conduct. I mention these things,” continued he, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span>“because your colonel is +what they call a ‘Grosbleu,’ that is, a coarse-minded, inveterate +republican, detesting aristocracy and all that belongs to it. Take care, +therefore, to give him no just cause for discontent, but be just as +steady in maintaining your position as the descendant of a noble house, +who has not forgotten what were once the privileges of his rank. Write +to me frequently and freely, and I’ll take care that you want for +nothing, so far as my small means go, to sustain whatever grade you +occupy. Your own conduct shall decide whether I ever desire to have any +other inheritor than the son of my oldest friend in the world.”</p> + +<p>Such were his last words to me, as I set forth, in company with a large +party, consisting, for the most part, of under officers and employées +attached to the medical staff of the army. It was a very joyous and +merry fraternity, and, consisting of ingredients drawn from different +pursuits and arms of the service, infinitely amusing from contrast of +character and habits. My chief associate among them was a young +sous-lieutenant of dragoons, whose age, scarcely much above my own, +joined to a joyous, reckless temperament, soon pointed him out as the +character to suit me: his name was Eugene Santron. In appearance he was +slightly formed, and somewhat under-sized, but with handsome features, +their animation rendered sparkling by two of the wickedest black eyes +that ever glistened and glittered in a human head. I soon saw that, +under the mask of affected fraternity and equality, he nourished the +most profound contempt for the greater number of associates, who, in +truth, were, however “braves gens,” the very roughest and least-polished +specimens of the polite nation. In all his intercourse with them, Eugene +affected the easiest tone of camaraderé and equality, never assuming in +the slightest, nor making any pretensions to the least superiority on +the score of position or acquirements, but on the whole consoling +himself, as it were, by “playing them off,” in their several +eccentricities, and rendering every trait of their vulgarity and +ignorance tributary to his own amusement. Partly from seeing that he +made me an exception to this practice, and partly from his perceiving +the amusement it afforded me, we drew closer toward each other, and +before many days elapsed, had become sworn friends.</p> + +<p>There is probably no feature of character so very attractive to a young +man as frankness. The most artful of all flatteries is that which +addresses itself by candor, and seems at once to select, as it were, by +intuition, the object most suited fur a confidence. Santron carried me +by a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">coup de main</span> of this kind, as taking my arm one evening, as I was +strolling along the banks of the Moselle, he said,</p> + +<p>“My dear Maurice, it’s very easy to see that the society of our +excellent friends yonder is just as distasteful to you as to me. One can +not always be satisfied laughing at their solecisms in breeding and +propriety. One grows weary at last of ridiculing their thousand +absurdities; and then there comes the terrible retribution in the +reflection of what the devil brought me into such company? a question +that, however easily answered, grows more and more intolerable the +oftener it is asked. To be sure, in my case there was little choice in +the matter, for I was not in any way the arbiter of my own fortune. I +saw myself converted from a royal page to a printer’s devil by a kind +old fellow, who saved my life by smearing my face with ink, and covering +my scarlet uniform with a filthy blouse; and since that day I have +taken the hint, and often found the lesson a good one—the dirtier the +safer!</p> + +<p>“We were of the old nobility of France, but as the name of our family +was the cause of its extinction, I took care to change it. I see you +don’t clearly comprehend me, and so I’ll explain myself better. My +father lived unmolested during the earlier days of the revolution, and +might so have continued to the end, if a detachment of the Garde +Republicaine had not been dispatched to our neighborhood of Sarre Louis, +where it was supposed some lurking regard for royalty yet lingered. +These fellows neither knew nor cared for the ancient noblesse of the +country, and one evening a patrol of them stopped my father as he was +taking his evening walk along the ramparts. He would scarcely deign to +notice the insolent ‘Qui va la!’ of the sentry, a summons <em>he</em> at least +thought superfluous in a town which had known his ancestry for eight or +nine generations. At the repetition of the cry, accompanied by something +that sounded ominous, in the sharp click of a gun-lock, he replied, +haughtily, ‘Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trone.’</p> + +<p>“‘There are no more marquises in France!’ was the savage answer.</p> + +<p>“My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said, ‘Saint-Trone.’</p> + +<p>“‘We have no saints either,’ cried another.</p> + +<p>“‘Be it so, my friend,’ said he, with mingled pity and disgust. ‘I +suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may call +myself Trone.’</p> + +<p>“‘We are done with thrones long ago,’ shouted they in chorus, ‘and we’ll +finish you also.’</p> + +<p>“Ay, and they kept their word, too. They shot him that same evening, on +very little other charge than his own name! If I have retained the old +sound of my name, I have given it a more plebeian spelling, which is, +perhaps, just as much of an alteration as any man need submit to for a +period that will pass away so soon.”</p> + +<p>“How so, Eugene? you fancy the republic will not endure in France. What, +then, can replace it?”</p> + +<p>“Any thing, every thing; for the future all is possible. We have +annihilated legitimacy, it is true, just as the Indians destroy a +forest, by burning the trees, but the roots remain, and if the soil is +incapable of sending up the giant stems as before, it is equally unable +to furnish a new and different culture. Monarchy is just as firmly +rooted in a Frenchman’s heart, but he will have neither patience for its +tedious growth, nor can he submit to restore what has cost him so dearly +to destroy. The consequences will, therefore, be a long and continued +struggle between parties, each imposing upon the nation the form of +government that pleases it in turn. Meanwhile, you and I, and others +like us, must serve whatever is uppermost—the cleverest fellow he who +sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it.”</p> + +<p>“Then are you a royalist?” asked I.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span></p><p>“A royalist! what! stand by a monarch who deserted his aristocracy, and +forgot his own order; defend a throne that he had reduced to the +condition of a fauteuil de Bourgeois?”</p> + +<p>“You are then for the republic?”</p> + +<p>“For what robbed me of my inheritance—what degraded me from my rank, +and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a cause +to uphold?”</p> + +<p>“You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps,” said I, scarcely +knowing what form of faith to attribute to him.</p> + +<p>“In an army where my superiors are the very dregs of the people; where +the canaille have the command, and the chivalry of France is represented +by a sans-culotte!”</p> + +<p>“The cause of the Church—”</p> + +<p>A burst of ribald laughter cut me short, and laying his hand on my +shoulder, he looked me full in the face, while, with a struggle to +recover his gravity he said,</p> + +<p>“I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not mean +this for earnest! Why, my dear boy, don’t you talk of the Eleusinian +Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle, of Alchemy, Astrology—of any thing, in +short, of which the world, having amused itself, has, at length, grown +weary? Can’t you see that the Church has passed away, and these good +priests have gone the same road as their predecessors. Is any acuteness +wanting to show that there is an end of this superstition that has +enthralled men’s minds for a couple of thousand years? No, no, their +game is up, and forever. These pious men, who despised this world, and +yet had no other hold upon the minds of others than by the very craft +and subtlety that world taught them. These heavenly souls, whose whole +machinations revolved about earthly objects and the successes of this +groveling planet! Fight for <em>them</em>! No, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">parbleu</span>; we owe them but +little love or affection. Their whole aim in life has been to disgust +one with whatever is enjoyable, and the best boon they have conferred +upon humanity, that bright thought, of locking up the softest eyes and +fairest cheeks of France in cloisters and nunneries! I can forgive our +glorious revolution much of its wrong when I think of the Prêtre; not +but that they could have knocked down the Church without suffering the +ruins to crush the chateau!”</p> + +<p>Such, in brief, were the opinions my companion held, and of which I was +accustomed to hear specimens every day; at first, with displeasure and +repugnance; later on, with more of toleration; and, at last, with a +sense of amusement at the singularity of the notions, or the dexterity +with which he defended them. The poison of his doctrines was the more +insidious, because, mingled with a certain dash of good nature, and a +reckless, careless easiness of disposition, always attractive to very +young men. His reputation for courage, of which he had given signal +proofs, elevated him in my esteem; and, ere long, all my misgivings +about him, in regard of certain blemishes, gave way before my admiration +of his heroic bearing, and a readiness to confront peril, wherever to +be found.</p> + +<p>I had made him the confidant of my own history, of which I told him +every thing, save the passages which related to the Père Michel. These I +either entirely glossed over, or touched so lightly as to render +unimportant: a dread of ridicule restraining me from any mention of +those earlier scenes of my life, which were alone of all those I should +have avowed with pride. Perhaps it was from mere accident—perhaps some +secret shame to conceal my forlorn and destitute condition may have had +its share in the motive; but, for some cause or other, I gave him to +understand that my acquaintance with Colonel Mahon had dated back to a +much earlier period than a few days before, and, the impression once +made, a sense of false shame led me to support it.</p> + +<p>“Mahon can be a good friend to you,” said Eugene; “he stands well with +all parties. The Convention trust him, the sansculottes are afraid of +him, and the few men of family whom the guillotine has left look up to +him as one of their stanchest adherents. Depend upon it, therefore, your +promotion is safe enough, even if there were not a field open for every +man who seeks the path to eminence. The great point, however, is to get +service with the army of Italy. These campaigns here are as barren and +profitless as the soil they are fought over; but, in the south, Maurice, +in the land of dark eyes and tresses, under the blue skies, or beneath +the trelliced vines, there are rewards of victory more glorious than a +grateful country, as they call it, ever bestowed. Never forget, my boy, +that you or I have no Cause! It is to us a matter of indifference what +party triumphs, or who is uppermost. The government may change +to-morrow, and the day after, and so on for a month long, and yet <em>we</em> +remain just as we were. Monarchy, Commonwealth, Democracy—what you +will—may rule the hour, but the sous-lieutenant is but the servant who +changes his master. Now, in revenge for all this, we have one +compensation, which is, to ‘live for the day.’ To make the most of that +brief hour of sunshine granted us, and to taste of every pleasure, to +mingle in every dissipation, and enjoy every excitement that we can. +This is my philosophy, Maurice, and just try it.”</p> + +<p>Such was the companion with whom chance threw me in contact, and I +grieve to think how rapidly his influence gained the mastery over me.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER XI.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">“the passage of the rhine.”</span></h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">I parted</span> from my friend Eugene at Treves, where he remained in garrison, +while I was sent forward to Coblentz to join my regiment, at that time +forming part of Ney’s division.</p> + +<p>Were I to adhere in my narrative to the broad current of great events, I +should here have to speak of that grand scheme of tactics by which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span> +Kleber, advancing from the Lower Rhine, engaged the attention of the +Austrian Grand Duke, in order to give time and opportunity for Hoche’s +passage of the river at Strasbourg, and the commencement of that +campaign which had for its object the subjugation of Germany. I have +not, however, the pretension to chronicle those passages which history +has forever made memorable, even were my own share in them of a more +distinguished character. The insignificance of my station must, +therefore, be my apology if I turn from the description of great and +eventful incidents to the humble narrative of my own career.</p> + +<p>Whatever the contents of Colonel Mahon’s letter, they did not plead very +favorably for me with Colonel Hacque, my new commanding officer; +neither, to all seeming, did my own appearance weigh any thing in my +favor. Raising his eyes at intervals from the letter to stare at me, he +uttered some broken phrases of discontent and displeasure; at last he +said—“What’s the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you +presented it to me?”</p> + +<p>“As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel,” said I calmly, “I can +scarcely answer the question.”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, it informs me that you are the son of a certain Count +Tiernay; who has long since paid the price of his nobility; and that +being a special protégé of the writer, he takes occasion to present you +to me; now I ask again, with what object?”</p> + +<p>“I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honor which I now enjoy—to become +personally known to you.”</p> + +<p>“I know every soldier under my command, sir,” said he, rebukingly, “as +you will soon learn if you remain in my regiment. I have no need of +recommendatory letters on that score. As to your grade of corporal, it +is not confirmed; time enough when your services shall have shown that +you deserve promotion. Parbleu, sir, you’ll have to show other claims +than your ci-devant countship.”</p> + +<p>“Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir, may I be permitted to retain him as +a regimental mount?” asked I, timidly.</p> + +<p>“We want horses—what is he like?”</p> + +<p>“Three quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then of course, unfit for service and field manœuvres. Send him to +the Etat Major. The Republic will find a fitting mount for <em>you</em>; you +may retire.”</p> + +<p>And I did retire, with a heart almost bursting between anger and +disappointment. What a future did this opening present to me! What a +realization this of all my flattering hopes!</p> + +<p>This sudden reverse of fortune, for it was nothing less, did not render +me more disposed to make the best of my new condition, nor see in the +most pleasing light the rough and rude fraternity among which I was +thrown. The Ninth Hussars were reputed to be an excellent service-corps, +but, off duty, contained some of the worst ingredients of the army. +Play, and its consequence dueling, filled up every hour not devoted to +regimental duty; and low as the tone of manners and morals stood in the +service generally, “Hacques Tapageurs,” as they were called, enjoyed the +unflattering distinction of being the leaders. Self-respect was a +quality utterly unknown among them—none felt ashamed at the disgrace of +punishment—and as all knew that, at the approach of the enemy, prison +doors would open, and handcuffs fall off, they affected to think the +Salle de Police was a pleasant alternative to the fatigue and worry of +duty. These habits not only stripped soldiering of all its chivalry, but +robbed freedom itself of all its nobility. These men saw nothing but +licentiousness in their newly-won liberty. Their “Equality” was the +permission to bring every thing down to a base and unworthy standard; +their “Fraternity,” the appropriation of what belonged to one richer +than themselves.</p> + +<p>It would give me little pleasure to recount, and the reader, in all +likelihood, as little to hear, the details of my life among such +associates. They are the passages of my history most painful to recall, +and least worthy of being remembered; nor can I even yet write without +shame the confession, how rapidly <em>their</em> habits became <em>my own</em>. +Eugene’s teachings had prepared me, in a manner, for their lessons. His +skepticism extending to every thing and every one, had made me +distrustful of all friendship, and suspicious of whatever appeared a +kindness. Vulgar association, and daily intimacy with coarsely-minded +men, soon finished what he had begun; and in less time than it took me +to break my troop-horse to regimental drill, I had been myself “broke +in” to every vice and abandoned habit of my companions.</p> + +<p>It was not in my nature to do things by halves; and thus I became, and +in a brief space too, the most inveterate Tapageur of the whole +regiment. There was not a wild prank or plot in which I was not +foremost, not a breach of the discipline unaccompanied by my name or +presence, and more than half the time of our march to meet the enemy, I +passed in double irons under the guard of the Provost-marshal.</p> + +<p>It was at this pleasant stage of my education that our brigade arrived +in Strasbourg, as part of the corps d’armée under the command of General +Moreau.</p> + +<p>He had just succeeded to the command on the dismissal of Pichegru, and +found the army not only dispirited by the defeats of the past campaign, +but in a state of rudest indiscipline and disorganization. If left to +himself, he would have trusted much to time and circumstances for the +reform of abuses that had been the growth of many months long. But +Regnier, the second in command, was made of “different stuff;” he was a +harsh and stern disciplinarian, who rarely forgave a first, never a +second offense, and who deeming the Salle de Police as an incumbrance to +an army on service, which, besides, required a guard of picked men, +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> might be better employed elsewhere, usually gave the preference to +the shorter sentence of “four spaces and a fusillade.” Nor was he +particular in the classification of those crimes he thus expiated: from +the most trivial excess to the wildest scheme of insubordination, all +came under the one category. More than once, as we drew near to +Strasbourg, I heard the project of a mutiny discussed, day after day. +Some one or other would denounce the “scelerat Regnier,” and proclaim +his readiness to be the executioner; but the closer we drew to +head-quarters, the more hushed and subdued became these mutterings, till +at last they ceased altogether; and a dark and forboding dread succeeded +to all our late boastings and denunciations.</p> + +<p>This at first surprised and then utterly disgusted me with my +companions. Brave as they were before the enemy, had they no courage for +their own countrymen? Was all their valor the offspring of security, or +could they only be rebellious when the penalty had no terrors for them? +Alas! I was very young, and did not then know that men are never strong +against the right, and that a bad cause is always a weak one.</p> + +<p>It was about the middle of June when we reached Strasbourg, where now +about forty thousand troops were assembled. I shall not readily forget +the mingled astonishment and disappointment our appearance excited as +the regiment entered the town. The Tapageurs, so celebrated for all +their terrible excesses and insubordination, were seen to be a fine +corps of soldier-like fellows, their horses in high condition, their +equipments and arms in the very best order. Neither did our conduct at +all tally with the reputation that preceded us. All was orderly and +regular in the several billets; the parade was particularly observed; +not a man late at the night muster. What was the cause of this sudden +and remarkable change? Some said we were marching against the enemy; but +the real explanation lay in a few words of a general order read to us by +our colonel the day before we entered the city:</p> + +<p>“The 9th Hussars have obtained the unworthy reputation of being an +ill-disciplined and ill-conducted regiment, relying upon their +soldier-like qualities in face of the enemy to cover the disgrace +of-their misconduct in quarters. This is a mistake that must be +corrected. All Frenchmen are brave; none can arrogate to themselves any +prerogative of valor. If any wish to establish such a belief, a campaign +can always attest it. If any profess to think so without such proof, and +acting in conformity with this impression, disobey their orders or +infringe regimental discipline, I will have them shot.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">“REGNIER,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">“<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Adjutant-general</span>.”</span><br /></p> + +<p>This was, at least, a very straight-forward and intelligible +announcement, and as such my comrades generally acknowledged it. I, +however regarded it as a piece of monstrous and intolerable tyranny, +and sought to make converts to my opinion by declaiming about the rights +of Frenchmen, the liberty of free discussion, the glorious privilege of +equality, and so on; but these arguments sounded faint in presence of +the drum-head; and while some slunk away from the circle around me, +others significantly hinted that they would accept no part of the danger +my doctrines might originate.</p> + +<p>However I might have respected my comrades, had they been always the +well-disciplined body I now saw them, I confess, that this sudden +conversion from fear, was in nowise to my taste, and rashly confounded +their dread of punishment with a base and ignoble fear of death. “And +these are the men,” thought I, “who talk of their charging home through +the dense squares of Austria—who have hunted the leopard into the sea! +and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps!”</p> + +<p>A bold rebel, whatever may be the cause against which he revolts, will +always be sure of a certain ascendency. Men are prone to attribute power +to pretension, and he who stands foremost in the breach will at least +win the suffrages of those whose cause he assumes to defend. In this way +if happened that exactly as my comrades fell in my esteem, I was +elevated in theirs; and while I took a very depreciating estimate of +their courage, <em>they</em> conceived a very exalted opinion of mine.</p> + +<p>It was altogether inexplicable to see these men, many of them the +bronzed veterans of a dozen campaigns—the wounded and distinguished +soldiers in many a hard-fought field, yielding up their opinions and +sacrificing their convictions to a raw and untried stripling, who had +never yet seen an enemy.</p> + +<p>With a certain fluency of speech I possessed also a readiness at picking +up information, and arraying the scattered fragments of news into a +certain consistence, which greatly imposed upon my comrades. A quick eye +for manœuvres, and a shrewd habit of combining in my own mind the +various facts that came before me, made me appear to them a perfect +authority on military matters, of which I talked, I shame to say, with +all the confidence and presumption of an accomplished general. A few +lucky guesses, and a few half hints, accidentally confirmed, completed +all that was wanting; and what says “Le Jeune Maurice,” was the +inevitable question that followed each piece of flying gossip, or every +rumor that rose of a projected movement.</p> + +<p>I have seen a good deal of the world since that time, and I am bound to +confess, that not a few of the great reputations I have witnessed, have +stood upon grounds very similar, and not a whit more stable than my own. +A bold face, a ready tongue, a promptness to support, with my right +hand, whatever my lips were pledged to, and, above all, good luck, made +me the king of my company; and although that sovereignty only extended +to half a squadron of hussars, it was a whole universe to me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span></p> + +<p>So stood matters when, on the 23d of June, orders came for the whole +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">corps d’armée</span> to hold itself in readiness for a forward movement. +Rations for two days were distributed, and ammunition given out, as if +for an attack of some duration. Meanwhile, to obviate any suspicion of +our intentions, the gates of Strasbourg, on the eastern side, were +closed—all egress in that direction forbidden—and couriers and +estafettes sent off toward the north, as if to provide for the march of +our force in that direction. The arrival of various orderly dragoons +during the previous night, and on that morning early, told of a great +attack in force on Manheim, about sixty miles lower down the Rhine, and +the cannonade of which some avowed that they could hear at that +distance. The rumor, therefore, seemed confirmed, that we were ordered +to move to the north, to support this assault.</p> + +<p>The secret dispatch of a few dismounted dragoons and some rifle-men to +the banks of the Rhine, however, did not strike me as according with +this view, and particularly as I saw that, although all were equipped, +and in readiness to move, the order to march was not given, a delay very +unlikely to be incurred, if we were destined to act as the reserve of +the force already engaged.</p> + +<p>Directly opposite to us, on the right bank of the river, and separated +from it by a low flat, of about two miles in extent, stood the fortress +of Kehl, at that time garrisoned by a strong Austrian force; the banks +of the river, and the wooded islands in the stream, which communicated +with the right by bridges, or fordable passes, being also held by the +enemy in force.</p> + +<p>These we had often seen, by the aid of telescopes, from the towers and +spires of Strasbourg; and now I remarked that the general and his staff +seemed more than usually intent on observing their movements. This fact, +coupled with the not less significant one, that no preparations for a +defense of Strasbourg were in progress, convinced me that, instead of +moving down the Rhine to the attack on Manheim, the plan of our general +was, to cross the river where we were, and make a dash at the fortress +of Kehl. I was soon to receive the confirmation of my suspicion, as the +orders came for two squadrons of the ninth to proceed, dismounted, to +the bank of the Rhine, and, under shelter of the willows, to conceal +themselves there. Taking possession of the various skiffs and fishing +boats along the bank, we were distributed in small parties, to one of +which, consisting of eight men under the orders of a corporal, I +belonged.</p> + +<p>About an hour’s march brought us to the river side, in a little clump of +alder willows, where, moored to a stake, lay a fishing boat with two +short oars in her. Lying down beneath the shade, for the afternoon was +hot and sultry, some of us smoked, some chatted, and a few dozed away +the hours that somehow seemed unusually slow in passing.</p> + +<p>There was a certain dogged sullenness about my companions, which +proceeded from their belief, that we and all who remained at Strasbourg, +were merely left to occupy the enemy’s attention, while greater +operations were to be carried on elsewhere.</p> + +<p>“You see what it is to be a condemned corps,” muttered one; “it’s little +matter what befalls the old ninth, even should they be cut to pieces.”</p> + +<p>“They didn’t think so at Enghein,” said another, “when we rode down the +Austrian cuirassiers.”</p> + +<p>“Plain enough,” cried a third, “we are to have skirmishers’ duty here, +without skirmishers’ fortune in having a force to fall back upon.”</p> + +<p>“Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?” broke in +a fourth ironically.</p> + +<p>“I’m of the same mind still,” rejoined I, coolly, “the general is not +thinking of a retreat; he has no intention of deserting a +well-garrisoned, well-provisioned fortress. Let the attack on Manheim +have what success it may, Strasbourg will be held still. I overheard +Colonel Guyon remark, that the waters of the Rhine have fallen three +feet since the drought set in, and Regnier replied, ‘that we must lose +no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.’ Now what could +that mean, but the intention to cross over yonder?”</p> + +<p>“Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!” broke in the corporal.</p> + +<p>“The French army have done bolder things before now!” was my reply, and +whatever the opinion of my comrades, the flattery ranged them on <em>my</em> +side. Perhaps the corporal felt it beneath his dignity to discuss +tactics with an inferior, or perhaps he felt unable to refute the +specious pretensions I advanced; in any case he turned away, and either +slept, or affected sleep, while I strenuously labored to convince my +companions that my surmise was correct.</p> + +<p>I repeated all my former arguments about the decrease in the Rhine, +showing that the river was scarcely two-thirds of its habitual breadth, +that the nights were now dark, and well suited for a surprise, that the +columns which issued from the town took their departure with a pomp and +parade far more likely to attract the enemy’s attention than escape his +notice, and were, therefore, the more likely to be destined for some +secret expedition, of which all this display was but the blind. These, +and similar facts, I grouped together with a certain ingenuity, which, +if it failed to convince, at least silenced my opponents. And now the +brief twilight, if so short a struggle between day and darkness deserved +the name, passed off, and night suddenly closed around us—a night black +and starless, for a heavy mass of lowering cloud seemed to unite with +the dense vapor that arose from the river, and the low-lying grounds +alongside of it. The air was hot and sultry, too, like the precursor of +a thunder-storm, and the rush of the stream as it washed among the +willows sounded preternaturally loud in the stillness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span></p> + +<p>A hazy, indistinct flame, the watch-fire of the enemy, on the island of +Eslar, was the only object visible in the murky darkness. After a while, +however, we could detect another fire on a smaller island, a short +distance higher up the stream. This, at first dim and uncertain, blazed +up after a while, and at length we descried the dark shadows of men as +they stood around it.</p> + +<p>It was but the day before that I had been looking on a map of the Rhine, +and remarked to myself that this small island, little more than a mere +rook in the stream, was so situated as to command the bridge between +Eslar and the German bank, and I could not help wondering that the +Austrians had never taken the precaution to strengthen it, or at least +place a gun there, to enfilade the bridge. Now, to my extreme +astonishment, I saw it occupied by the soldiery, who, doubtless, were +artillery, as in such a position small arms would prove of slight +efficiency. As I reflected over this, wondering within myself if any +intimation of our movements could have reached the enemy, I heard along +the ground on which I was lying the peculiar tremulous, dull sound +communicated by a large body of men marching. The measured tramp could +not be mistaken, and as I listened I could perceive that a force was +moving toward the river from different quarters. The rumbling roll of +heavy guns and the clattering noise of cavalry were also easily +distinguished, and awaking one of my comrades I called his attention to +the sounds.</p> + +<p>“Parbleu!” said he, “thou’rt right; they’re going to make a dash at the +fortress, and there will be hot work ere morning. What say you now, +corporal, has Maurice hit it off this time?”</p> + +<p>“That’s as it may be,” growled the other, sulkily; “guessing is easy +work ever for such as thee! but if he be so clever, let him tell us why +are we stationed along the river’s bank in small detachments. We have +had no orders to observe the enemy, nor to report upon any thing that +might go forward; nor do I see with what object we were to secure the +fishing boats; troops could never be conveyed across the Rhine in skin’s +like these!”</p> + +<p>“I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen +giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack,” replied I.</p> + +<p>“Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided on,” +said he, contemptuously. “For a fellow that never saw the smoke of an +enemy’s gun thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!”</p> + +<p>“Yonder is the best answer to your taunt,” said I, as in a little bend +of the stream beside us, two boats were seen to pull under the shelter +of the tall alders, from which the clank of arms could be plainly heard; +and now another larger launch swept past, the dark shadows of a dense +crowd of men showing above the gunwale.</p> + +<p>“They are embarking, they are certainly embarking,” now ran from mouth +to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river’s bank they were speedily +“told off” in separate divisions of which some were to lead the attack, +others to follow, and a third portion to remain as a reserve in the +event of a repulse.</p> + +<p>The leading boat was manned entirely by volunteers, and I could hear +from where I lay the names called aloud as the men stepped out from the +ranks. I could hear that the first point of attack was the island of +Eslar. So far there was a confirmation of my own guessing, and I did not +hesitate to assume the full credit of my skill from my comrades. In +truth, they willingly conceded all or even more than I asked for. Not a +stir was heard, not a sight seen, not a movement made of which I was not +expected to tell the cause and the import; and knowing that to sustain +my influence there was nothing for it but to affect a thorough +acquaintance with every thing, I answered all their questions boldly and +unhesitatingly. I need scarcely observe that the corporal in comparison +sunk into down-right insignificance. He had already shown himself a +false guide, and none asked his opinion further, and I became the ruling +genius of the hour. The embarkation now went briskly forward, several +light field guns were placed in the boats, and two or three large rafts, +capable of containing two companies each, were prepared to be towed +across by boats.</p> + +<p>Exactly as the heavy hammer of the cathedral struck one, the first boat +emerged from the willows, and darting rapidly forward, headed for the +middle of the stream; another and another in quick succession followed, +and speedily were lost to us in the gloom; and now, two four-oared +skiffs stood out together, having a raft, with two guns, in tow; by some +mischance, however, they got entangled in a side current, and the raft +swerving to one side, swept past the boats, carrying them down the +stream along with it. Our attention was not suffered to dwell on this +mishap, for at the same moment the flash and rattle of fire-arms told us +the battle had begun. Two or three isolated shots were first heard, and +then a sharp platoon fire, accompanied by a wild cheer, that we well +knew came from our own fellows. One deep mellow boom of a large gun +resounded amid the crash, and a slight streak of flame, higher up the +stream, showed that the shot came from the small island I have already +spoken of.</p> + +<p>“Listen, lads,” said I, “that came from the ‘Fels Insel.’ If they are +firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer sorely +from it. By Jove there is a crash!”</p> + +<p>As I was speaking a rattling noise like the sound of clattering timber +was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was hushed.</p> + +<p>“Let’s at them, boys; they can’t be much above our own number. The +island is a mere rock,” cried I to my comrades.</p> + +<p>“Who commands this party?” said the corporal, “you or I?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span></p><p>“You, if you lead us against the enemy,” said I; “but I’ll take it if +my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads—yes or +no—now is the time to speak.”</p> + +<p>“We’re ready,” cried three, springing forward, with one impulse.</p> + +<p>At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their places, +and then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, leaving the +corporal alone on the bank.</p> + +<p>“Come along, corporal,” cried I, “we’ll win your epaulets for you;” but +he turned away without a word; and not waiting further, I pushed out the +skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream.</p> + +<p>“Pull steady, boys, and silently,” said I; “we must gain the middle of +the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once +beneath the trees, we’ll give them a volley, and then the bayonet. +Remember, lads, no flinching; it’s as well to die here as be shot by old +Regnier to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its height. +The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from time to +time, streaked the darkness above the river.</p> + +<p>“Stronger and together, boys—once more—there it is—we are in the +current, now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines—see that the +priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusilade. Lie still +now, and wait for the word to fire.”</p> + +<p>The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads as I +spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly on +till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered up +the little cliff; and as we reached the top, beheld immediately beneath +us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a gun, which +they were busy in adjusting. I looked right and left to see that my +little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more, gave the +order—fire!</p> + +<p>We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The +terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled +from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow +part of the stream, between the island and the right bank.</p> + +<p>Our prize was a brass eight pounder, and an ample supply of ammunition. +The gun was pointed toward the middle of the stream, where the current +being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed; and in all +likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already experienced its +fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on the Eslar bridge, +was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three of our little party +kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the others loaded the gun +and prepared to fire.</p> + +<p>Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could judge +from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards; and as we +had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our position was +admirable.</p> + +<p>“Wait patiently, lads,” said I, restraining, with difficulty, the +burning ardor of my men. “Wait patiently, till the retreat has commenced +over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on the island: +to fire upon them there, would be to risk our own men as much as the +enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the brushwood: +and listen to the cheering now. That was a French cheer! and there goes +another! Look! look, the bridge is darkening already! That was a +bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now, lads—now!”</p> + +<p>As I spoke; the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the +crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and +splintered the wood-work in all directions.</p> + +<p>“The range is perfect, lads,” cried I. “Load and fire with all speed.”</p> + +<p>Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told how +the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of my +heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to load +faster.</p> + +<p>Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and the +seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down went +the densely crowded column into the Rhine; at the same instant, the guns +of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which soon +were swept clean of the enemy.</p> + +<p>High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could see +the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the Rhine +had been effected, and we now prepared to follow.</p> + +<p class="center"><em>To be continued.</em></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="An_Aerial_Voyage" id="An_Aerial_Voyage"></a>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</p> + +<h2>AN AERIAL VOYAGE.</h2> + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Of</span> all the wonderful discoveries which modern science has given birth +to, there is perhaps not one which has been applied to useful purposes +on a scale so unexpectedly contracted as that by which we are enabled to +penetrate into the immense ocean of air with which our globe is +surrounded, and to examine the physical phenomena which are manifested +in its upper strata. One would have supposed that the moment the power +was conferred upon us to leave the surface of the earth, and rise above +the clouds into the superior regions, a thousand eager inquirers would +present themselves as agents in researches in a region so completely +untrodden, if such a term may here be permitted.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, this great invention of aerial navigation has remained +almost barren. If we except the celebrated aerial voyage of Gay-Lussac +in 1804, the balloon, with its wonderful powers, has been allowed to +degenerate into a mere theatrical exhibition, exciting the vacant and +unreflecting wonder of the multitude. Instead of being an instrument of +philosophical<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> research, it has become a mere expedient for profit in +the hands of charlatans, so much so, that, on the occasion to which we +are now about to advert, the persons who engaged in the project incurred +failure, and risked their lives, from their aversion to avail themselves +of the experience of those who had made aerostation a mere spectacle for +profit. They thought that to touch pitch they must be defiled, and +preferred danger and the risk of failure to such association.</p> + +<p>It is now about two months since M. Barral, a chemist of some +distinction at Paris, and M. Bixio, a member of the Legislative Assembly +(whose name will be remembered in connection with the bloody +insurrection of June, 1848, when, bravely and humanely discharging his +duty in attempting to turn his guilty fellow-citizens from their course, +he nearly shared the fate of the Archbishop, and was severely wounded), +resolved upon making a grand experiment with a view to observe and +record the meteorological phenomena of the strata of the atmosphere, at +a greater height and with more precision than had hitherto been +accomplished. But from the motives which we have explained, the project +was kept secret, and it was resolved that the experiment should be made +at an hour of the morning, and under circumstances, which would prevent +it from degenerating into an exhibition. MM. Arago and Regnault +undertook to supply the aerial voyagers with a programme of the proposed +performance, and instruments suited to the projected observations. M. +Arago prepared the programme, in which was stated clearly what +observations were to be made at every stage of the ascentional movement.</p> + +<p>It was intended that the balloon should be so managed as to come to rest +at certain altitudes, when barometric, thermometric, hygrometric, +polariscopic, and other observations, were to be taken and noted; the +balloon after each series of observations to make a new ascent.</p> + +<p>The precious instruments by which these observations were to be made +were prepared, and in some cases actually fabricated and graduated, by +the hands of M. Regnault himself.</p> + +<p>To provide the balloon and its appendages, recourse was had to some of +those persons who have followed the fabrication of balloons as a sort of +trade, for the purposes of exhibition.</p> + +<p>In this part of their enterprise the voyagers were not so fortunate, as +we shall presently see, and still less so in having taken the resolution +to ascend alone, unaccompanied by a practiced æronaut. It is probable +that if they had selected a person, such as Mr. Green, for example, who +had already made frequent ascents for the mere purpose of exhibition, +and who had become familiar with the practical management of the +machine, a much more favorable result would have ensued. As it was, the +two voyagers ascended for the first time, and placed themselves in a +position like that of a natural philosopher, who, without previous +practice, should undertake to drive a locomotive, with its train on a +railway at fifty miles an hour, rejecting the humble but indispensable +aid of an experienced engine-driver.</p> + +<p>The necessary preparations having been made, and the programme and the +instruments prepared, it was resolved to make the ascent from the garden +behind the Observatory at Paris, a plateau of some elevation, and free +from buildings and other obstacles, at day-break of Saturday, the 29th +June. At midnight the balloon was brought to the spot, but the inflation +was not completed until nearly 10 o’clock, A.M.</p> + +<p>It has since been proved that the balloon was old and worn, and that it +ought not to have been supplied for such an occasion.</p> + +<p>It was obviously patched, and it is now known that two seamstresses were +employed during the preceding day in mending it, and some stitching even +was found necessary after it had arrived at the Observatory.</p> + +<p>The net-work which included and supported the car was new, and not +originally made with a view to the balloon it inclosed, the consequences +of which will be presently seen.</p> + +<p>The night, between Friday and Saturday, was one of continual rain, and +the balloon and its netting became thoroughly saturated with moisture. +By the time the inflation had been completed, it became evident that the +net-work was too small; but in the anxiety to carry into effect the +project, the consequences of this were most unaccountably overlooked. We +say unaccountably, because it is extremely difficult to conceive how +experimental philosophers and practiced observers, like MM. Arago and +Regnault, to say nothing of numerous subordinate scientific agents who +were present, did not anticipate what must have ensued in the upper +regions of the air. Nevertheless, such was the fact.</p> + +<p>On the morning of Saturday, the instruments being duly deposited in the +car, the two enterprising voyagers placed themselves in it, and the +balloon, which previously had been held down by the strength of twenty +men, was liberated, and left to plunge into the ocean of air, at +twenty-seven minutes after ten o’clock.</p> + +<p>The weather, as we have already stated, was unfavorable, the sky being +charged with clouds. As it was the purpose of this project to examine +much higher regions of the atmosphere than those which it had been +customary for aeronautic exhibitors to rise to, the arrangements of +ballast and inflation which were adopted, were such as to cause the +ascent to be infinitely more rapid than in the case of public +exhibitions; in short, the balloon darted upward with the speed of an +arrow, and in two minutes from the moment it was liberated, that is to +say, at twenty-nine minutes past ten, plunged into the clouds, and was +withdrawn from the anxious view of the distinguished persons assembled +in the garden of the Observatory.</p> + +<p>While passing through this dense cloud, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> voyagers carefully observed +the barometer, and knew by the rapid fall of the mercury that they were +ascending with a great velocity. Fifteen minutes elapsed before they +emerged from the cloud; when they did so, however, a glorious spectacle +presented itself. The balloon, emerging from the superior surface of the +cloud, rose under a splendid canopy of azure, and shone with the rays of +a brilliant sun. The cloud which they had just passed, was soon seen +several thousand feet below them. From the observations taken with the +barometer and thermometer, it was afterward found that the thickness of +the cloud through which they had passed, was 9800 feet—a little less +than two miles. On emerging from the cloud, our observers examined the +barometer, and found that the mercury had fallen to the height of 18 +inches; the thermometer showed a temperature of 45° Fahr. The height of +the balloon above the level of the sea was then 14,200 feet. At the +moment of emerging from the cloud, M. Barral made polariscopic +observation, which established a fact foreseen by M. Arago, that the +light reflected from the surface of the clouds, was unpolarized light.</p> + +<p>The continued and somewhat considerable fall of the barometer informed +the observers that their ascent still continued to be rapid. The rain +which had previously fallen, and which wetted the balloon, and saturated +the cordage forming the net-work, had now ceased, or, to speak more +correctly, the balloon had passed above the region in which the rain +prevailed. The strong action of the sun, and almost complete dryness of +the air in which the vast machine now floated, caused the evaporation of +the moisture which enveloped it. The cordage and the balloon becoming +dry, and thus relieved of a certain weight of liquid, was affected as +though a quantity of ballast had been thrown out, and it darted upward +with increased velocity.</p> + +<p>It was within one minute of eleven, when the observers finding the +barometer cease the upward motion, and finding that the machine +oscillated round a position of equilibrium by noticing the bearing of +the sun, they found the epoch favorable for another series of +observations. The barometer there indicated that the balloon had +attained the enormous height of 19,700 feet. The moisture which had +invested the thermometer had frozen upon it, and obstructed, for the +moment, observations with it. It was while M. Barral was occupied in +wiping the icicles from it, that, turning his eye upward, he beheld what +would have been sufficient to have made the stoutest heart quail with +fear.</p> + +<p>To explain the catastrophe which at this moment, and at nearly 20,000 +feet above the surface of the earth, and about a mile above the highest +strata of the clouds, menaced the voyagers, we must recur to what we +have already stated in reference to the balloon and the net-work. As it +was intended to ascend to an unusual altitude, it was of course known, +that in consequence of the highly rarefied state of the atmosphere, and +its very much diminished pressure, the gas contained in the balloon +would have a great tendency to distend, and, consequently, space must be +allowed for the play of this effect. The balloon, therefore, at +starting, was not nearly filled with gas, and yet, as we have explained +it, very nearly filled the net-work which inclosed it. Is it not strange +that some among the scientific men present did not foresee, that when it +would ascend into a highly rarefied atmosphere, it would necessarily +distend itself to such a magnitude, that the netting would be utterly +insufficient to contain it? Such effect, so strangely unforeseen, now +disclosed itself practically realized to the astonished and terrified +eyes of M. Barral.</p> + +<p>The balloon, in fact, had so swelled as not only completely to fill the +netting which covered it, but to force its way, in a frightful manner, +through the hoop under it, from which the car, and the voyagers were +suspended.</p> + +<p>In short, the inflated silk protruding downward through the hoop, now +nearly touched the heads of the voyagers. In this emergency the remedy +was sufficiently obvious.</p> + +<p>The valve must be opened, and the balloon breathed, so as to relieve it +from the over-inflation. Now, it is well known, that the valve in this +machine is placed in a sort of sleeve, of a length more or less +considerable, connected with the lower part of the balloon, through +which sleeve the string-of the valve passes. M. Barral, on looking for +this sleeve, found that it had disappeared. Further search showed that +the balloon being awkwardly and improperly placed in the inclosing +net-work, the valve-sleeve, instead of hanging clear of the hoop, had +been gathered up in the net-work above the hoop; so that, to reach it, +it would have been necessary to have forced a passage between the +inflated silk and the hoop.</p> + +<p>Now, here it must be observed, that such an incident could never have +happened to the most commonly-practiced balloon exhibitor, whose first +measure, before leaving the ground, would be to secure access to, and +the play of the valve. This, however, was, in the present case, fatally +overlooked. It was, in fine, now quite apparent, that either of two +effects must speedily ensue—viz.: either the car and the voyagers would +be buried in the inflated silk which was descending upon them, and thus +they would he suffocated, or that the force of distention must burst the +balloon. If a rupture were to take place in that part immediately over +the car, then the voyagers would be suffocated by an atmosphere of +hydrogen; if it should take place at a superior part, then the balloon, +rapidly discharged of its gas, would be precipitated to the earth, and +the destruction of its occupants rendered inevitable.</p> + +<p>Under these circumstances the voyagers did not lose their presence of +mind, but calmly considered their situation, and promptly decided upon +the course to be adopted. M. Barral<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span> climbed up the side of the car, and +the net-work suspending it, and forced his way through the hoop, so as +to catch hold of the valve-sleeve. In this operation, however, he was +obliged to exercise a force which produced a rent in a part of the silk +below the hoop, and immediately over the car. In a moment the hydrogen +gas issued with terrible force from the balloon, and the voyagers found +themselves involved in an atmosphere of it.</p> + +<p>Respiration became impossible, and they were nearly suffocated. A glance +at the barometer, however, showed them that they were falling to the +ground with the most fearful rapidity.</p> + +<p>During a few moments they experienced all the anguish attending +asphyxia. From this situation, however, they were relieved more speedily +than they could then have imagined possible; but the cause which +relieved them soon became evident, and inspired them with fresh terrors.</p> + +<p>M. Barral, from the indications of the barometer, knew that they were +being precipitated to the surface of the earth with a velocity so +prodigious, that the passage of the balloon through the atmosphere +dispelled the mass of hydrogen with which they had been surrounded.</p> + +<p>It was, nevertheless, evident that the small rent which had been +produced in the lower part of the balloon, by the abortive attempt to +obtain access to the valve, could not have been the cause of a fall so +rapid.</p> + +<p>M. Barral, accordingly, proceeded to examine the external surface of the +balloon, as far as it was visible from the car, and, to his astonishment +and terror, he discovered that a rupture had taken place, and that a +rent was made, about five feet in length, along the equator of the +machine, through which, of course, the gas was now escaping in immense +quantities. Here was the cause of the frightful precipitation of the +descent, and a source of imminent danger in the fall.</p> + +<p>M. Barral promptly decided on the course to be taken.</p> + +<p>It was resolved to check the descent by the discharge of the ballast, +and every other article of weight. But this process, to be effectual, +required to be conducted with considerable coolness and skill. They were +some thousand feet above the clouds. If the ballast were dismissed too +soon, the balloon must again acquire a perilous velocity before it would +reach the earth. If, on the other hand, its descent were not moderated +in time, its fall might become so precipitate as to be ungovernable. +Nine or ten sand-bags being, therefore, reserved for the last and +critical moment, all the rest of the ballast was discharged. The fall +being still frightfully rapid, the voyagers cast out, as they descended +through the cloud already mentioned, every article of weight which they +had, among which were the blankets and woolen clothing which they had +brought to cover them in the upper regions of the atmosphere, their +shoes, several bottles of wine, all, in fine, save and except the +philosophical instruments. These they regarded as the soldier does his +flag, not to be surrendered save with life. M. Bixio, when about to +throw over a trifling apparatus, called an aspirator, composed of +copper, and filled with water, was forbidden by M. Barral, and obeyed +the injunction.</p> + +<p>They soon emerged from the lower stratum of the cloud, through which +they had fallen in less than two minutes, having taken fifteen minutes +to ascend through it. The earth was now in sight, and they were dropping +upon it like a stone. Every weighty article had been dismissed, except +the nine sand-bags, which had been designedly reserved to break the +shock on arriving at the surface. They observed that they were directly +over some vine-grounds near Lagny, in the department of the Seine and +Marne, and could distinctly see a number of laborers engaged in their +ordinary toil, who regarded with unmeasured astonishment the enormous +object about to drop upon them. It was only when they arrived at a few +hundred feet from the surface that the nine bags of sand were dropped by +M. Barral, and by this manœuvre the lives of the voyagers were +probably saved. The balloon reached the ground, and the car struck among +the vines. Happily the wind was gentle; but gentle as it was it was +sufficient, acting upon the enormous surface of the balloon, to drag the +car along the ground, as if it were drawn by fiery and ungovernable +horses. Now arrived a moment of difficulty and danger, which also had +been foreseen and provided for by M. Barral. If either of the voyagers +had singly leaped from the car, the balloon, lightened of so much +weight, would dart up again into the air. Neither voyager would consent, +then, to purchase his own safety at the risk of the other. M. Barral, +therefore, threw his body half down from the car, laying hold of the +vine-stakes, as he was dragged along, and directing M. Bixio to hold +fast to his feet. In this way the two voyagers, by their united bodies, +formed a sort of anchor, the arms of M. Barral playing the part of the +fluke, and the body of M. Bixio that of the cable.</p> + +<p>In this way M. Barral was dragged over a portion of the vineyard +rapidly, without any other injury than a scratch or contusion of the +face, produced by one of the vine-stakes.</p> + +<p>The laborers just referred to meanwhile collected, and pursued the +balloon, and finally succeeded in securing it, and in liberating the +voyagers, whom they afterward thanked for the bottles of excellent wine +which, as they supposed, had fallen from the heavens, and which, +wonderful to relate, had not been broken from the fall, although, as has +been stated, they had been discharged above the clouds. The astonishment +and perplexity of the rustics can be imagined on seeing these bottles +drop in the vineyard.</p> + +<p>This fact also shows how perpendicularly the balloon must have dropped, +since the bottles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span> dismissed from such a height, fell in the same field +where, in a minute afterward, the balloon also dropped.</p> + +<p>The entire descent from the altitude of twenty thousand feet was +effected in seven minutes, being at the average rate of fifty feet per +second.</p> + +<p>In fine, we have to report that these adventurous partisans of science, +nothing discouraged by the catastrophe which has occurred have resolved +to renew the experiment under, as may he hoped, less inauspicious +circumstances; and we trust that on the next occasion they will not +disdain to avail themselves of the co-operation and presence of some one +of those persons, who having hitherto practiced aerial navigation for +the mere purposes of amusement, will, doubtless, be too happy to invest +one at least of their labors with a more useful and more noble +character.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Andrew_Carsons_Money" id="Andrew_Carsons_Money"></a> +[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</p> + +<h2>ANDREW CARSON’S MONEY; A STORY OF GOLD.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> night of a bitter winter day had come; frost, and hail, and snow +carried a sense of new desolation to the cold hearths of the moneyless, +while the wealthy only drew the closer to their bright fires, and +experienced stronger feelings of comfort.</p> + +<p>In a small back apartment of a mean house, in one of the poorest +quarters of Edinburgh, a young man sat with a pen in his fingers, +endeavoring to write, though the blue tint of his nails showed that the +blood was almost frozen in his hands. There was no fire in the room; the +old iron grate was rusty and damp, as if a fire had not blazed in it for +years; the hail dashed against the fractured panes of the window; the +young man was poorly and scantily dressed, and he was very thin, and +bilious to all appearance; his sallow, yellow face and hollow eyes told +of disease, misery, and the absence of hope.</p> + +<p>His hand shook with cold, as, by the light of the meanest and cheapest +of candles, he slowly traced line after line, with the vain thought of +making money by his writings. In his boyish days he had entered the +ranks of literature, with the hopes of fame to lead him on, but +disappointment after disappointment, and miserable circumstances of +poverty and suffering had been his fate: now the vision of fame had +become dim in his sick soul—he was writing with the hope of gaining +money, any trifle, by his pen.</p> + +<p>Of all the ways of acquiring money to which the millions bend their best +energies, that of literature is the most forlorn. The artificers of +necessaries and luxuries, for the animal existence, have the world as +their customers; but those who labor for the mind have but a limited +few, and therefore the supply of mental work is infinitely greater than +the demand, and thousands of the unknown and struggling, even though +possessed of much genius, must sink before the famous few who +monopolize the literary market, and so the young writer is overlooked. +He may be starving, but his manuscripts will be returned to him; the +emoluments of literature are flowing in other channels; he is one added +to the thousands too many in the writing world; his efforts may bring +him misery and madness, but not money.</p> + +<p>The door of the room opened, and a woman entered; and advancing near the +little table on which the young man was writing, she fixed her eyes on +him with a look in which anger, and the extreme wretchedness which +merges on insanity, were mingled. She seemed nearly fifty; her features +had some remaining traces of former regularity and beauty, but her whole +countenance now was a volume filled with the most squalid suffering and +evil passions; her cheeks and eyes were hollow, as if she had reached +the extreme of old age; she was emaciated to a woeful degree; her dress +was poor dirty, and tattered, and worn without any attempt at proper +arrangement.</p> + +<p>“Writing! writing! writing! Thank God, Andrew Carson, the pen will soon +drop from your fingers with starvation.”</p> + +<p>The woman said this in a half-screaming, but weak and broken-down voice.</p> + +<p>“Mother, let me have some peace,” said the young writer, turning his +face away, so that he might not see her red glaring eyes fixed on him.</p> + +<p>“Ay, Andrew Carson, I say thank God that the force of hunger will soon +now make you drop that cursed writing. Thank God, if there <em>is</em> the God +that my father used to talk about in the long nights in the bonnie +highland glen, where it’s like a dream of lang syne that I ever lived.”</p> + +<p>She pressed her hands on her breast, as if some recollections of an +overpowering nature were in her soul.</p> + +<p>“The last rag in your trunk has gone to the pawn; you have neither +shirt, nor coat, nor covering now, except what you’ve on. +Write—write—if you can, without eating; to-morrow you’ll have neither +meat nor drink here, nor aught now to get money on.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, I am in daily expectation of receiving something for my writing +now; the post this evening may bring me some good news.”</p> + +<p>He said this with hesitation, and there was little of hope in the +expression of his face.</p> + +<p>“Good news! good news about your writing! that’s the good news ’ill +never come; never, you good-for-nothing scribbler!”</p> + +<p>She screamed forth the last words in a voice of frenzy. Her tone was a +mixture of Scotch and Irish accents. She had resided for some years of +her earlier life in Ireland.</p> + +<p>As the young writer looked at her and listened to her, the pen shook in +his hand.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span></p><p>“Go out, and work, and make money. Ay, the working people can live on +the best, while you, with that pen in your fingers, are starving +yourself and me.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, I am not strong enough for labor, and my tastes are strongly, +very strongly, for literature.”</p> + +<p>“Not strong enough! you’re twenty past. It’s twenty long years since the +cursed night I brought you into the world.” The young writer gazed +keenly on his mother, for he was afraid she was under the influence of +intoxication, as was too often the case; but he did not know how she +could have obtained money, as he knew there was not a farthing in the +house. The woman seemed to divine the meaning of his looks—</p> + +<p>“I’m not drunk, don’t think it,” she cried; “it’s the hunger and the +sorrow that’s in my head.”</p> + +<p>“Well, mother, perhaps this evening’s post may have some good +intelligence.”</p> + +<p>“What did the morning’s post bring? There, there—don’t I see it—them’s +the bonnie hopes of yours.”</p> + +<p>She pointed to the table, where lay a couple of returned manuscripts. +Andrew glanced toward the parcel, and made a strong effort to suppress +the deep sigh which heaved his breast.</p> + +<p>“Ay, there it is—there’s a bundle of that stuff ye spend your nights +and days writing; taking the flesh off your bones, and making that face +of yours so black and yellow; it’s your father’s face, too—ay—well +it’s like him now, indeed—the ruffian. I wish I had never seen him, nor +you, nor this world.”</p> + +<p>“My father,” said Andrew, and a feeling of interest overspread his +bloodless face. “You have told me little of him. Why do you speak of him +so harshly?”</p> + +<p>“Go and work, and make money, I say. I tell you I must get money; right +or wrong, I must get it; there’s no living longer, and enduring what +I’ve endured. I dream of being rich; I waken every morning from visions +where my hands are filled with money; that wakening turns my head, when +I know and see there is not a halfpenny in the house, and when I see +you, my son, sitting there, working like a fool with pen and brain, but +without the power to earn a penny for me. Go out and work with your +hands, I say again, and let me get money—do any thing, if it brings +money. There is the old woman over the way, who has a working son; his +mother may bless God that he is a shoemaker and not a poet; she is the +happy woman, so cozily covered with warm flannel and stuff this weary +weather, and her mutton, and her tea, and her money jingling in her +pocket forever; that’s what a working son can do—a shoemaker can do +that.”</p> + +<p>At this some noise in the kitchen called Mrs. Carson away, to the great +relief of Andrew. He rose, and closed the door gently after her. He +seated himself again, and took up his pen, but his head fell listlessly +on his hand; he felt as if his mother’s words were yet echoing in his +ears. From his earliest infancy he had regarded her with fear and +wonder, more than love.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carson was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman, who +was suspected by his brethren in the ministry of entertaining peculiar +views of religion on some points, and also of being at intervals rather +unsound in his mind. He bestowed, however, a superior education on his +only daughter, and instructed her carefully himself until his death, +which occurred when she was not more than fourteen. As her father left +her little if any support, she was under the necessity of going to +reside with relations in Ireland, who moved in a rather humble rank. Of +her subsequent history little was known to Andrew; she always maintained +silence regarding his father, and seemed angry when he ventured to +question her. Andrew was born in Ireland, and resided there until about +his eighth year, when his mother returned to Scotland.</p> + +<p>It was from his mother Andrew had gained all the little education that +had been bestowed on him. That education was most capriciously imparted, +and in its extent only went the length of teaching him to read +partially; for whatever further advances he had made he was indebted to +his own self-culture. At times his mother would make some efforts to +impress on him the advantages of education: she would talk of poetry, +and repeat specimens of the poets which her memory had retained from the +period of her girlhood in her father’s house; but oftenest the language +of bitterness, violence, and execration was on her lips. With the +never-ceasing complaints of want—want of position, want of friends, +but, most of all, want of money—sounding in his ears, Andrew grew up a +poet. The unsettled and aimless mind of his mother, shadowed as it was +with perpetual blackness, prevented her from calmly and wisely striving +to place her son in some position by which he could have aided in +supporting himself and her. As a child, Andrew was shy and solitary, +caring little for the society of children of his own years, and taking +refuge from the never-ceasing violence of his mother’s temper in the +privacy of his own poor bedroom, with some old book which he had +contrived to borrow, or with his pen, for he was a writer of verses from +an early age.</p> + +<p>Andrew was small-sized, sickly, emaciated, and feeble in frame; his mind +had much of the hereditary weakness visible in his mother; his +imagination and his passions were strong, and easily excited to such a +pitch as to overwhelm for the moment his reason. With a little-exercised +and somewhat defective judgment; with no knowledge of the world; with +few books; with a want of that tact possessed by some intellects, of +knowing and turning to account the tendencies of the age in literature, +it was hardly to be expected that Andrew would soon succeed as a poet, +though his imagination was powerful, and there was pathos and even +occasional sublimity in his poetry. For five long years he had been +toiling and striving without any success whatever in his vocation, in +the way of realizing either fame or emolument.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, as he sat with his eyes fixed on the two returned manuscripts on +his table, his torturing memory passed in review before him the many +times his hopes had been equally lost. He was only twenty years of age, +yet he had endured so many disappointments! He shook and trembled with a +convulsive agony as he recalled poem after poem, odes, sonnets, epics, +dramas—he had tried every thing; he had built so many glorious +expectations on each as, night after night, shivering with cold and +faint with sickness, he had persisted in gathering from his mind, and +arranging laboriously, the brightest and most powerful of his poetical +fancies, and hoped, and was often almost sure, they would spread +broadly, and be felt deeply in the world. But there they had all +returned to him—there they lay, unknown, unheard of—they were only so +much waste paper.</p> + +<p>As each manuscript had found its way back to him, he had received every +one with an increasing bitterness and despair, which gradually wrought +his brain almost to a state of mental malady. By constitution he was +nervous and melancholy: the utmost of the world’s success would hardly +have made him happy; he had no internal strength to cope with +disappointment—no sanguine hopes pointing to a brighter future: he was +overwhelmed with present failures. One moment he doubted sorely the +power of his own genius: and the thought was like death to him, for +without fame—without raising himself a name and a position above the +common masses—he felt he could not live. Again, he would lay the whole +blame on the undiscerning publishers to whom his poetry had been sent; +he would anathematize them all with the fierce bitterness of a soul +which was, alas! unsubdued in many respects by the softening and +humbling influences of the religion of Christ. He had not the calm +reflection which might have told him that, young, uneducated, utterly +unlearned in the world and in books as he was, his writings must of +necessity have a kind of inferiority to the works of those possessed of +more advantages. He had no deep, sober principles or thoughts; his +thoughts were feelings which bore him on their whirlwind course to the +depths of agony, and to the brink of the grave, for his health was +evidently seriously impaired by the indulgence of long-continued +emotions of misery.</p> + +<p>He took up one of the rejected manuscripts in his hand: it was a +legendary poem, modeled something after the style of Byron, though the +young author would have violently denied the resemblance. He thought of +the pains he had bestowed on it—of the amount of thought and +dreams—the sick, languid headaches, the pained breast, the weary mind +it had so often occasioned him; then he saw the marks of tears on +it—the gush of tears which had come as if to extinguish the fire of +madness which had kindled in his brain. When he saw that manuscript +returned to him, the marks of the tears were there staining the outside +page. He looked fixedly on that manuscript, and his thin face became +darker, and more expressive of all that is hopeless in human sorrow; +the bright light of success shone as if so far away from him now—away +at an endless distance, which neither his strength of body or mind could +ever carry him over.</p> + +<p>At that moment the sharp, rapid knock of the postman sounded in his +ears. His heart leaped up, and then suddenly sank with suffocating fear, +for the dark mood of despair was on him—could it be another returned +manuscript? He had only one now in the hands of a publisher; the one on +which he had expended all his powers—the one to which he had trusted +most: it was a tragedy. He had dreamed the preceding night that it had +been accepted; he had dreamed it had brought him showers of gold; he had +been for a moment happy beyond the bounds of human happiness, though he +had awoke with a sense of horror on his mind, he knew not why. The +publisher to whom he had sent his tragedy was to present it to the +manager of one of the London theatres. Had it been taken, performed, +successful?—a dream of glory, as if heaven had opened on him, +bewildered his senses.</p> + +<p>The door was rudely pushed open; his mother entered, and flung the +manuscript of the returned tragedy on the table.</p> + +<p>“There—there’s another of them!” she cried, rage choked her voice for a +moment.</p> + +<p>Andrew was stunned. Despair seemed to have frozen him all at once into a +statue. He mechanically took up the packet, and, opening it, he read the +cold, polite, brief note, which told of the rejection of his play both +by theatres and publishers.</p> + +<p>“Idiot—fool—scribbling fool!”</p> + +<p>The unfortunate poet’s mother sank into a chair, as if unable to support +the force of her anger.</p> + +<p>“Fool!—scribbling madman! will ye never give over?”</p> + +<p>Andrew made no answer; but every one of his mother’s furious words sank +into his brain, adding to the force of his unutterable misery.</p> + +<p>“Will ye go now, and take to some other trade, will ye?—will ye, I +say?”</p> + +<p>Andrew’s lips moved for a moment, but no sound came from them.</p> + +<p>“Will ye go out, and make money, I say, at some sensible work? Make +money for me, will you? I’ll force you out to make money at some work by +which there’s money to be made; not the like of that idiot writing of +yours, curse it. Answer me, and tell me you’ll go out and work for money +now?”</p> + +<p>She seized his arm, and shook it violently; but still he made no +response.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span></p><p>“You will not speak. Listen, then—listen to me, I say; I’ll tell it all +now; you’ll hear what you never heard before. I did not tell you before, +because I pitied you—because I thought you would work for me, and earn +money; but you will not promise it. Now, then, listen. You are the very +child of money—brought into existence by the influence of money; you +would never have been in being had it not been for money. I always told +you I was married to your father; I told you a falsehood—he bound me to +him by the ties of money only.”</p> + +<p>A violent shudder passed over Andrew’s frame at this intelligence, but +still he said nothing.</p> + +<p>“You shall hear it all—I shall tell you particularly the whole story. +It was not for nothing you were always afraid of being called a bastard. +It’s an ugly word, but it belongs to you—ay, ay, ye always trembled at +that word, since ye were able to go and play among the children in the +street. They called ye that seven years ago—ten years ago, when we came +here first, and you used to come crying to me, for you could not bear +it, you said. I denied it then—I told you I was married to your father; +I told you a lie: I told you that, because I thought you would grow up +and work for me, and get me money. You won’t do it; you will only +write—write all day and all night, too, though I’ve begged you to quit +it. You have me here starving. What signifies the beggarly annuity your +father left to me, and you, his child? It’s all spent long before it +comes, and here we are with nothing, not a crust, in the house, and it’s +two months till next paying time.</p> + +<p>“Listen—I’ll tell you the whole story of your birth; maybe that will +put you from writing for a while, if you have the spirit you used to +have when they told you what you were.”</p> + +<p>She shook his arm again, without receiving any answer; his head had +fallen on his hands, and he remained fixed in one position. His mother’s +eyes glared on him with a look in which madness was visible, together +with a tigress-like expression of ferocity which rarely appears on the +face of a mother, or of any human being, where insanity does not exist. +When she spoke, however, her words were collected, and her manner was +impressive and even dignified; the look of maniac anger gradually wore +away from her face, and in every sentence she uttered there were proofs +that something of power had naturally existed in her fallen and clouded +mind.</p> + +<p>“Want of money was the earliest thing I remember to feel,” she said, as +she seated herself, with something more of composure in her manner. +“There was never any money in my father’s house. I wondered at first +where it could all go; I watched and reflected, and used all means of +finding out the mystery. At last I knew it—my father drank; in the +privacy of his room, when no eye was on him, he drank, drank. He paid +strict enough attention to my education. I read with him much; he had +stores of books. I read the Bible with him, too; often he spent long +evenings expounding it to me. But I saw the hollowness of it all—he +hardly believed himself; he doubted—doubted all, while he would fain +have made me a believer. I saw it well: I heard him rave of it in a +fever into which drink had thrown him. All was dark to him, he said, +when he was near dying; but he had taught his child to believe; he had +done his best to make her believe. He did not know my heart; I was his +own child; I longed for sensual things; my heart burned with a wish for +money, but it all went for drink. Had I but been able then to procure +food and clothes as others of my rank did, the burning wish for money +that consumed my heart then and now might never have been kindled, and I +might have been rich as those often become who have never wished for +riches. Yes, the eagerness of my wishes has always driven money far away +from me; that cursed gold and silver, it flows on them who have never +worshiped it—never longed for it till their brain turned; and it will +not come to such as me, whose whole life has been a desire for it. Well, +my father died, and I was left without a penny; all the furniture went +to pay the spirit-merchant. I went to Ireland; I lived with relations +who were poor and ignorant: I heard the cry of want of money there too. +A father and mother and seven children, and me, the penniless orphan: we +all wanted money—all cried for it. At last my cry was answered in a +black way; I saw the sight of money at last; a purse heaped, overflowing +with money, was put into my hands. My brain got giddy at the sight; sin +and virtue became all one to me at the sight. Gold, gold! my father +would hardly ever give me one poor shilling; the people with whom I +lived hardly ever had a shilling among them. I became the mistress of a +rich man—a married man; his wife and children were living there before +my eyes—a profligate man; his sins were the talk of the countryside. I +hated him; he was old, deformed, revolting; but he chained me to him by +money. Then I enjoyed money for a while; I kept that purse in my hand; I +laid it down so as my eyes would rest on it perpetually. I dressed; I +squandered sum after sum; the rich man who kept me had many other +expenses: his money became scantier; we quarreled; another offered me +more money—I went to him.”</p> + +<p>A deep groan shook the whole frame of the unfortunate young poet at this +statement—a groan which in its intensity might have separated soul and +body.</p> + +<p>“Let me go—let me go!” he cried, raising himself for a moment, and then +sinking back again in his chair in a passive state.</p> + +<p>His mother seemed a little softened by his agitation, though she made no +comment on it, but continued her narrative as if no interruption had +taken place.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span></p><p>“Money took me to a new master; he was richer than the first; he bound +my heart to him by the profusion of his money. He was old and withered, +but his gold and silver reflected so brightly on his face, I came to +think him handsome; he was your father; you were born; after your birth +I think I even loved him. I urged him to marry me; he listened; he even +promised—yes, marriage and money—money—they were almost in my very +grasp. I was sure—sure—when he went to England to arrange some +business, he said; he wrote fondly for a while; I lived in an elysium; +money and an honorable marriage were my own. I had not one doubt; but he +ceased to write to me—all at once he ceased; had it been a gradual +drawing off, my brain would not have reeled as it did. At last, when +fear and anxiety had almost thrown me into a fever, a letter came. It +announced in a few words that your father was married to a young, +virtuous, and wealthy lady; he had settled a small annuity on me for +life, and never wished to see or hear from me again. A violent illness +seized me then; it was a kind of burning fever. All things around me +seemed to dazzle, and assume the form of gold and silver; I struggled +and writhed to grasp the illusion; they were forced to tie my hands—to +bind me down in my bed. I recovered at last, but I had grown all at once +old, withered, stricken in mind and body by that sickness. For a long +time—for years—I lived as if in a lingering dream; I had no keen +perceptions of life; my wishes had little energy; my thoughts were +confused and wandering; even the love of money and the want of money +failed to stir me into any kind of action. I have something of the same +kind of feeling still,” she said, raising her hand to her head. “The +burning fever into which I was thrown when your father’s love vanished +from me, is often here even yet, though its duration is brief; but it is +sufficient to make me incapable of any exertion by which I could make +money. I have trusted to you; I have hoped that you might be the means +of raising me from my poverty; I have long hoped to see the gold and +silver of your earning. I did not say much at first, when I saw you +turning a poet; I had heard that poetry was the sure high-road to +poverty, but I said little then. I was hardly able to judge and know +rightly what you should do when you commenced writing in your boyhood; +but my head is a little cooler now; the scorching fire of the money your +father tempted me with, and then withdrew, is quenched a little by +years. Now at last I see that you are wasting your time and health with +that pen; you have not made one shilling—one single sixpence for me, +yet, with that pen of yours; your health is going fast; I see the color +of the grave on your thin cheeks. Now I command you to throw away your +pen, and make money for me at any trade, no matter how low or mean.”</p> + +<p>As she spoke, there was a look approaching to dignity in her wasted +face, and her tones were clear and commanding—the vulgar Irishism and +Scoticism of dialect which, on common occasions, disfigured her +conversation, had disappeared, and it was evident that her intellect had +at one period been cultivated, and superior to the ordinary class of +minds.</p> + +<p>Andrew rose without saying one syllable in answer to his mother’s +communication; he threw his manuscripts and the sheets which he had +written into a desk; he locked it with a nervous, trembling hand, and +then turned to leave the room. His face was of the most ghastly +paleness; his eyes were calm and fixed; he seemed sick at heart by the +disclosure he had heard; his lips trembled and shook with agitation.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going, Andrew? It’s a bitter night.”</p> + +<p>“Mother, it is good enough for me—for a—”</p> + +<p>He could not speak the hated word which rose to his lips; he had an +early horror of that word; he had dreaded that his was a dishonorable +birth: even in his boyish days he had feared it; his mother had often +asserted to the contrary, but now she had dispelled the belief in which +he had rested.</p> + +<p>He opened the door hastily, and passed out into the storm, which was +rushing against the windows.</p> + +<p>A feeling of pity for him—a feeling of a mother’s affection and +solicitude, was stirred in Mrs. Carson’s soul, as she listened to his +departing footsteps, and then went and seated herself beside the embers +of a dying fire in the kitchen; it was a small, cold, +miserably-furnished kitchen; the desolation of the severe season met no +counterbalancing power there; no cheering appearances of food, or fire, +or any comforts were there. But the complaining spirit which cried and +sighed perpetually was for once silent within Mrs. Carson’s mind; +something—perhaps the death-like aspect of her son, or a voice from her +long stifled conscience—was telling her how ill she had fulfilled the +duties of a mother. She felt remorse for the reproaches she had heaped +on him before he had gone out in the storm.</p> + +<p>She waited to hear his knock at the door; she longed for his returning +steps; she felt that she would receive him with more of kindness than +she had for a length of time displayed to him; she kept picturing to +herself perpetually his thin face and emaciated figure, and a fear of +his early death seized on her for the first time; she had been so +engrossed by her own selfish wants, that she had scarcely remarked the +failing health of her son. She started with horror at the probabilities +which her naturally powerful fancy suggested. She resolved to call in +medical aid immediately, for she was sure now that Andrew’s constitution +was sinking fast. But how would she pay for medical aid? she had not one +farthing to procure advice. At this thought the yearning, burning desire +for money which had so long made a part of her existence came back with +full force; she sat revolving scheme after scheme, plan after plan, of +how she could procure it. Hours passed away, but still she sat alone, +silently cowering over the cinders of the fire.</p> + +<p>At length she started up, fully awake, to a sense of wonder and dread at +Andrew’s long absence. She heard the sound of distant clocks striking +twelve. It was unusual for Andrew to be out so late, for he had +uniformly kept himself aloof from evil companions. The high poetical +spirit within him, a spirit which utterly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span> engrossed him, had kept him +from the haunts of vice. His mother went to the door, and opening it, +gazed on the narrow, mean street. The storm had passed away; the street +was white with hail and snow; the moon shone clearly down between the +tall but dilapidated houses of which the street or lane was composed; +various riotous-looking people were passing by; and from a neighboring +house the brisk strains of a violin came, together with the sound of +voices and laughter. The house had a bad repute in the neighborhood, but +Mrs. Carson never for an instant suspected her son was there. She looked +anxiously along the street, and at every passing form she gazed +earnestly, but none resembled her son.</p> + +<p>For a long time she stood waiting and watching for the appearance of +Andrew, but he did not come. At last, sinking with cold and weariness, +and with a host of phantom fears rising up in her bewildered brain, and +almost dragging her mind down into the gulf of utter madness, on the +brink of which she had so long been, Mrs. Carson returned to the +kitchen. As she looked on the last ember dying out on the hearth, a +feeling of frenzy shook her frame. Andrew would soon return, shivering +with cold, and she had no fire to warm him—no money to purchase fire. +She thought of the wealthy—of their bright fires—and bitter envy and +longing for riches gnawed her very heart and life. A broken deal chair +was in a corner of the kitchen; she seized it, and after some efforts +succeeded in wrenching off a piece, which she placed on the dying ember, +and busied herself for some time in fanning; then she gathered every +remaining fragment of coals from the recess at one side of the +fire-place, in which they were usually kept, and with the pains and +patience which poverty so sorely teaches, she employed herself in making +some appearance of a fire. Had she been in her usual mood, she would +have sat anathematizing her son for his absence at such an hour; but now +every moment, as she sat awaiting his return, her heart became more +kindly disposed toward him, and an uneasy feeling of remorse for her +past life was each instant gaining strength amidst the variety of +strange spectral thoughts and fancies which flitted through her diseased +mind. At some moments she fancied she saw her father seated opposite to +her on the hearth, and heard him reading from the Bible, as he did so +often in her girlish days: then again he was away in the privacy of his +own room, and she was watching him through a crevice of the door, and +she saw him open the cabinet he kept there, and take out liquor, ardent +spirits, and he drank long and deep draughts, until gradually he sank +down on his bed in the silent, moveless state of intoxication which had +so long imposed on her, for she had once believed that her father was +subject to fits of a peculiar kind. She groaned and shuddered as this +vision was impressed on her; she saw the spirit of evil which had +destroyed her father attaching itself next to her own fate, and leading +her into the depths of guilt, and she trembled for her son. Had he now +fallen in sin? was some evil action detaining him to such an hour? He +was naturally inclined to good, she knew—strangely good and pure had +his life been, considering he was her child, and reared so carelessly as +she had reared him; but now he had been urged to despair by her endless +cry for money, and, perhaps, he was at that very instant engaged in some +robbery, by which he would be able to bring money to his mother.</p> + +<p>So completely enslaved had her mind become to a lust for money, that the +thought of his gaining wealth by any means was for some time delightful +to her; she looked on their great poverty, and she felt, in her darkened +judgment, that they had something of a right to take forcibly a portion +of the superabundant money of the rich. Her eyes glared with eagerness +for the sight of her son returning with money, even though that money +was stolen; the habitual mood of her mind prevailed rapidly over the +impressions of returning goodness and affection which for a brief period +had awoke within her.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the return of her overwhelming desire for money, +Andrew’s knock came to the door. The eager inquiry whether he had +brought any money with him was bursting from her lips the moment she +opened the door and beheld him, but she was cheeked by the sight of two +strangers who accompanied him. Andrew bade the men follow him, and +walked rapidly to the kitchen; the tones of his voice were so changed +and hollow that his mother hardly recognized him to be her son.</p> + +<p>He requested the men to be seated, telling them that when the noise on +the street would be quiet and the people dispersed they would get that +for which they had come. At that moment a drunken broil on the street +had drawn some watchmen to the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>He bade his mother follow him, and proceeded hastily to his own room. By +the aid of a match he lighted the miserable candle by which, some hours +previously, he had been writing.</p> + +<p>“Mother, here is money—gold—here—your hand.” He pressed some gold +coins into her hand. “Gold! ay, gold, gold, indeed!” gasped his mother, +the intensity of her joy repressing for the instant all extravagant +demonstrations of it.</p> + +<p>“Go, go away to the kitchen; in about five or ten minutes let the men +come here, and they will get what I have sold them.”</p> + +<p>“Money! money at last; gold—gold!” cried his mother, altogether +unconscious of what her son was saving, and only awake to the blessed +sense of having at last obtained money.</p> + +<p>“Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose.”</p> + +<p>“Money! blessings, blessings on you and God—money!” She seemed still in +ignorance of Andrew’s request that she would withdraw.</p> + +<p>“Away, I say, I must be alone; away to the kitchen, and leave me alone; +but let the men come here in a few minutes and take what they have +purchased.”</p> + +<p>He spoke with a strange energy. She obeyed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span> him at last, and left the +room: she remembered afterward that his face was like that of a dead man +when he addressed her.</p> + +<p>She returned to the kitchen. The two men were seated where she had left +them, and were conversing together: their strong Irish accent told at +once their country. Mrs. Carson paid no attention to them; she neither +spoke to them nor looked at them; she held tightly clasped in her hand +the few gold coins her son had given her; she walked about like one half +distracted, addressing audible thanksgiving to God one instant, and the +next felicitating herself in an insane manner on having at last obtained +some money. The two men commented on her strange manners, and agreed +that she was mad, stating their opinions aloud to each other, but she +did not hear them.</p> + +<p>The noise and quarreling on the street continued for some time, and the +men manifested no impatience while it lasted. All became quiet after a +time; the desertion and silence of night seemed at last to have settled +down on the street. The two men then manifested a strong wish to finish +the business on which they had come.</p> + +<p>“I say, whereabouts is it—where’s the snatch, my good woman?” said one +of the men, addressing Mrs. Carson.</p> + +<p>She looked on him and his companion with amazement mingled with +something of fear, for the aspects of both were expressive of low +ruffianism.</p> + +<p>“She’s mad, don’t you see,” said the one who had not addressed her.</p> + +<p>The other cursed deeply, saying that as they had given part payment, +they would get their errand, or their money back again.</p> + +<p>At this, a gleam of recollection crossed Mrs. Carson’s mind, and she +informed them that her son had mentioned about something they had +purchased, which was in his room. She thought at the instant, that +perhaps he had disposed of one of his manuscripts at last, though she +wondered at the appearance of the purchasers of such an article.</p> + +<p>“That’s it,” cried the men; “show us the way to the room fast; it’s all +quiet now.”</p> + +<p>Anxious to get rid of the men, Mrs. Carson proceeded hastily to her +son’s room, followed closely by the men. The first object she saw, on +opening the door, was Andrew, leaning on his desk; the little desk stood +on the table, and Andrew’s head and breast were lying on it, as if he +was asleep. There was something in his fixed attitude which struck an +unpleasant feeling to his mother’s heart.</p> + +<p>“Andrew!” she said; “Andrew, the men are here.”</p> + +<p>All was silent. No murmur of sleep or life came from Andrew. His mother +ran to his side, and grasped his arm: there was no sound, no motion. She +raised his head with one hand, while at the same time she glanced at an +open letter, on which a few lines were scrawled in a large, hurried +hand. Every word and letter seemed to dilate before her eyes, as in a +brief instant of time she read the following:</p> + +<p>“Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for +dissection; the money I gave you is part of the price. You have +upbraided me for never making money: I have sold all I possess—my +body—and given you money. You have told me of the stain on my birth; I +can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in this world +would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I +can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes, +yes, from the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice, +saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds. +Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace +of Andrew Carson vanish from your earth.”</p> + +<p>With a lightning rapidity Mrs. Carson scanned each word; and not until +she had read it all, did a scream of prolonged and utter agony, such as +is rarely heard even in this world of grief burst from her lips; and +with a gesture of frenzied violence she flung the money she had kept +closely grasped in her hand at the men. One of them stooped to gather it +up, and the other ran toward Andrew, and raised his inanimate body a +little from its recumbent position. He was quite dead, however; a +bottle, marked “Prussic Acid,” was in his hand. The two men, having +recovered the money, hurried away, telling Mrs. Carson they would send +immediate medical aid, to see if any thing could be done for the +unfortunate young man. Mrs. Carson did not hear them; a frenzied +paroxysm seized her, and she lay on the floor screaming in the wild +tones of madness, and utterly incapable of any exertion. She saw the +money she had received with such rapture carried away from before her +eyes, but she felt nothing: money had become terrible to her at last.</p> + +<p>Her cries attracted a watchman from the street. A doctor was soon on the +spot; but Andrew Carson was no more connected with flesh, and blood, and +human life; he was away beyond recall, in the spirit-world.</p> + +<p>An inquest was held on the body, and a verdict of temporary insanity +returned, as is usual in such cases of suicide. The young poet was +buried, and soon forgotten.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Carson lingered for some weeks; her disease assumed something of +the form of violent brain-fever; in her ravings she fancied perpetually +that she was immersed in streams of fluid burning gold and silver. They +were forcing her to drink draughts of that scorching gold, she would +cry; all was burning gold and silver: all drink, all food, all air, and +light, and space around her. At the very last she recovered her senses +partially, and calling, with a feeble but calm voice, on her only +beloved child, Andrew, she died.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a name="Neander" id="Neander"></a> +<img src="images/illo_9.png" width="600" height="756" alt="Neander in the Lecture Room." title="" /> +<span class="caption">[Neander in the Lecture Room.]</span> +</div> + +<h2>NEANDER.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Germany</span> has just lost one of her greatest Protestant theologians, +<span class="smcap">Augustus Neander</span>. He was born at Göttingen, Jan. 16, 1789, and died at +Berlin, July 13, 1850, in his sixty-second year. He was of Jewish +descent, as his strongly-marked features sufficiently evidence; but at +the age of seventeen he embraced the Christian religion, to the defense +of which his labors, and to the exemplification of which his life, were +thenceforth devoted. Having studied theology at Halle, under +Schleiermacher, he was appointed private lecturer at Heidelberg in 1811, +and in the following year the first Professor of Theology at the Royal +University of Berlin, which post he held to the time of his death, a +period of thirty-eight years. Deservedly high as is his reputation +abroad, it is still higher in his own country, where he was known not +only as an author, but as a teacher, a preacher, and a man. The +following is a list of his published works: The Emperor Julian and his +Times, 1812; Bernard and his Times, 1813; Genetical Development of the +Principal Gnostic Systems, 1818; Chrysostom and the Church in his Times, +1820 and 1832; Memorabilia from the History of Christianity and the +Christian Life, 1822 and 1845-46; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +exegetical and historical, 1829; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +biographical, 1840; The Principle of the Reformation, or, Staupitz and +Luther, 1840; History of the Planting and Training of the Christian +Church, 4th ed., 1847; The Life of Jesus Christ in its Historical +Connection and Historical Development, 4th ed., 1845; General History of +the Christian Religion and Church, 1842-47. Neander is best known to +readers of English by the last two works, both of which have been made +accessible to them by American scholars.</p> + +<p>The Life of Christ was undertaken to counteract the impression made by +STRAUSS’S “Life of Christ,” in which the attempt was made to apply the +mythical theory to the entire structure of evangelical history. +According to Strauss,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</a></span> the sum of the historical truth contained in the +narratives of the evangelists is, that Jesus lived and taught in Judea, +where he gathered disciples who believed that he was the Messiah. +According to their preconceived notions, the life of the Messiah, and +the period in which he lived, were to be illustrated by signs and +wonders. Messianic legends existed ready-made, in the hopes and +expectations of the people, only needing to be transferred to the person +and character of Jesus. The appearance of this work produced a great +sensation in Germany. It was believed by many that the book should be +prohibited; and the Prussian government was inclined to this measure. +Neander, however, advised that the book should rather be met by +argument. His Life of Christ which was thus occasioned, wears, in +consequence, a somewhat polemical aspect. It has taken the rank of a +standard authority, both in German and in English, into which it has +been admirably translated by Professors M’CLINTOCK and BLUMENTHAL.</p> + +<p>The great work of Neander’s life, and of which his various writings in +the departments of Ecclesiastical History, Biography, Patristics, and +Dogmatics are subsidiary, is the General History of the Christian +Religion and Church. The first part of this, containing the history of +the first three centuries, was published in 1825, and, improved and +enlarged, in 1842—43. The second part, which brings the history down to +the close of the sixth century, appeared originally in 1828, and in a +second edition in 1846—47. These two parts, comprising four volumes of +the German edition, are well known to English readers through the +excellent version of Professor TORREY. This is a history of the inner +development of Christian doctrines and opinions rather than of the +external progress of the Church, and in connection with GIESELER’S +Text-Book, furnishes by far the best apparatus for the study of +ecclesiastical history now extant.</p> + +<p>A correspondent of the <cite>Boston Traveler</cite>, writing under date of Berlin, +July 22, gives the following graphic sketch of the personal +characteristics of Neander:</p> + +<p>“NEANDER is no more! He who for thirty-eight years has defeated the +attacks upon the church from the side of rationalism and +philosophy—who, through all the controversies among theologians in +Germany, has remained true to the faith of his adoption, the pure and +holy religion of Jesus Christ—Neander, the philosopher, the +scholar—better, the great and good man—has been taken from the world.</p> + +<p>“He was never married, but lived with his maiden sister. Often have I +seen the two walking arm in arm upon the streets and in the parks of the +city. Neander’s habit of abstraction and short-sightedness rendered it +necessary for him to have some one to guide the way whenever he left his +study for a walk or to go to his lecture room. Generally, a student +walked with him to the University, and just before it was time for his +lecture to close, his sister could be seen walking up and down on the +opposite side of the street, waiting to accompany him home.</p> + +<p>“Many anecdotes are related of him illustrative of his absence of mind, +such as his appearing in the lecture room half dressed—if left alone, +always going to his old residence, after he had removed to another part +of the city—walking in the gutter, &c., &c. In the lecture room, his +manner was in the highest degree peculiar. He put his left arm over the +desk, clasping the book in his hand, and after bringing his face close +to the corner of his desk, effectually concealed it by holding his notes +close to his nose.</p> + +<p>“In one hand was always a quill, which, during the lecture, he kept +constantly twirling about and crushing. He pushed the desk forward upon +two legs, swinging it back and forth, and every few minutes would plunge +forward almost spasmodically, throwing one foot back in a way leading +you to expect that he would the next moment precipitate himself headlong +down upon the desks of the students. Twirling his pen, occasional +spitting, jerking his foot backward, taken with his dress, gave him a +most eccentric appearance in the lecture room. Meeting him upon the +street, with his sister, you never would have suspected that such a +strange looking being could be Neander. He formerly had two sisters, but +a few years ago the favorite one died. It was a trying affliction, and +for a short interval he was quite overcome, but suddenly he dried his +tears, calmly declared his firm faith and reliance in the wise purpose +of God in taking her to himself, and resumed his lectures immediately as +if nothing had over taken him to disturb his serenity.</p> + +<p>“Neander’s charity was unbounded. Poor students were not only presented +with tickets to his lectures, but were also often provided by him with +money and clothing. Not a farthing of the money received for his +lectures ever went to supply his own wants; it was all given away for +benevolent purposes. The income from his writings was bestowed upon the +Missionary, Bible, and other societies, and upon hospitals. Thoughts of +himself never seemed to have obtruded upon his mind. He would sometimes +give away to a poor student all the money he had about him at the moment +the request was made of him, even his new coat, retaining the old one +for himself. You have known this great man in your country more on +account of his learning, from his books, than in any other way; but +here, where he has lived, one finds that his private character, his +piety, his charity, have distinguished him above all others.</p> + +<p>“It would be difficult to decide whether the influence of his example +has not been as great as that of his writings upon the thousands of +young men who have been his pupils. Protestants, Catholics, nearly all +the leading preachers throughout Germany, have attended his lectures, +and all have been more or less guided by him. While philosophy has been +for years<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[Pg 512]</a></span> attempting to usurp the place of religion, Neander has been +the chief instrument in combating it, and in keeping the true faith +constantly before the students.</p> + +<p>“He was better acquainted with Church History and the writings of the +Fathers than any one of his time. It has been the custom upon the +recurrence of his birth-day, for the students to present to him a rare +edition of one of the Fathers, and thus he has come to have one of the +most complete sets of their writings to be found in any library. Turning +from his great literary attainments, from all considerations suggested +by his profound learning, it is pleasant to contemplate the pure +Christian character of the man. Although born a Jew, his whole life +seemed to be a sermon upon the text, ‘That disciple whom Jesus loved +said unto Peter, <em>It is the Lord!</em>’ Neander’s life resembled more ‘that +disciple’s’ than any other. He was the loving John, the new Church +Father of our times.</p> + +<p>“His sickness was only of a few days’ duration. On Monday he held his +lecture as usual. The next day he was seized with a species of cholera. +A day or two of pain was followed by a lucid interval, when the +physicians were encouraged to hope for his recovery. During this +interval he dictated a page in his Church History, and then said to his +sister—‘I am weary—let us go home.’ He had no time to die. He needed +no further preparation; his whole life had been the best preparation, +and up to the last moment we see him active in his master’s service. The +disease returned with redoubled force; a day or two more of suffering, +and on Sunday, less than a week from the day of attack, he was dead.</p> + +<p>“On the 17th of July I attended the funeral services. The procession of +students was formed at the university, and marched to his dwelling. In +the meantime, in the house, the theological students, the professors +from Berlin, and from the University of Halle, the clergy, relatives, +high officers of government, etc., were assembled to hear the funeral +discourse. Professor Strauss, for forty-five years an intimate friend of +Neander, delivered a sermon. During the exercises, the body, not yet +placed in the coffin, was covered with wreaths and flowers, and +surrounded with burning candles.</p> + +<p>“The procession was of great length, was formed at 10 A.M. and moved +through Unter den Linden as far as Frederick-street, and then the whole +length of Frederick-street as far as the Elizabeth-street Cemetery. The +whole distance, nearly two miles, the sides of the streets, doors and +windows of the houses were filled with an immense concourse of people +who had come to look upon the solemn scene. The hearse was surrounded +with students, some of them from Halle, carrying lighted candles, and in +advance was borne the Bible and Greek Testament which had ever been used +by the deceased.</p> + +<p>“At the grave, a choir of young men sang appropriate music, and a +student from Halle made an affecting address. It was a solemn sight to +see the tears gushing from the eyes of those who had been the pupils and +friends of Neander. Many were deeply moved, and well might they join +with the world in mourning for one who had done more than any one to +keep pure the religion of Christ here in Germany.</p> + +<p>“After the benediction was pronounced, every one present, according to +the beautiful custom here, went to the grave and threw into it a handful +of dirt, thus assisting at the burial. Slowly, and in scattered groups +the crowd dispersed to their various homes.</p> + +<p>“How insignificant all the metaphysical controversies of the age, the +vain teachings of man, appeared to us as we stood at the grave-side of +Neander. His was a far higher and holier faith, from which, like the +Evangelist, he never wavered. In his life, in his death, the belief to +which he had been converted, his watchword remained unchanged: ‘It is +the Lord!’ His body has been consigned to the grave, but the sunset +glory of his example still illumines our sky, and will forever light us +onward to the path he trod.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DISASTERS_OF_A_MAN" id="THE_DISASTERS_OF_A_MAN"></a>THE DISASTERS OF A MAN WHO WOULDN’T TRUST HIS WIFE.</h2> + +<h3>A TALE OF A TAILOR.</h3> + +<h3>BY WM. HOWITT.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">There</span> are a multitude of places in this wide world, that we never heard +of since the day of creation, and that never would become known to a +soul beyond their own ten miles of circumference, except to those +universal discoverers, the tax-gatherers, were it not that some sparks +of genius may suddenly kindle there, and carry their fame through all +countries and all generations. This has been the case many times, and +will be the case again. We are now destined to hear the sound of names +that our fathers never dreamed of; and there are other spots, now +basking in God’s blessed sunshine, of which the world knows and cares +nothing, that shall, to our children, become places of worship, and +pilgrimage. Something of this sort of glory was cast upon the little +town of Rapps, in Bohemia, by the hero whose name stands conspicuously +in this article, and whose pleasant adventures I flatter myself that I +am destined to diffuse still further. HANS NADELTREIBER was the son of +Mr. Strauss Nadeltreiber, who had, as well as his ancestors before him, +for six generations, practiced, in the same little place, that most +gentlemanly of all professions, a tailor—seeing that it was before all +others, and was used and sanctioned by our father Adam.</p> + +<p>Now Hans, from boyhood up, was a remarkable person. His father had known +his share of troubles, and having two sons, both older than Hans, +naturally looked in his old age to reap some comfort and assistance from +their united labors. But the two elder sons successively had fled from +the shop-board. One had gone for a soldier, and was shot; the other had +learned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span> the craft of a weaver, but being too fond of his pot, had +broken his neck by falling into a quarry, as he went home one night from +a carousal. Hans was left the sole staff for the old man to lean upon; +and truly a worthy son he proved himself. He was as gentle as a dove, +and as tender as a lamb. A cross word from his father, when he had made +a cross stitch, would almost break his heart; but half a word of +kindness revived him again—and he seldom went long without it; for the +old man, though rendered rather testy and crabbed in his temper, by his +many troubles and disappointments, was naturally of a loving, +compassionate disposition, and, moreover, regarded Hans as the apple of +his eye.</p> + +<p>Hans was of a remarkably light, slender, active make, full of life and +mettle. This moment he was on the board, stitching away with as much +velocity as if he were working for a funeral or a wedding, at an hour’s +notice; the next, he was dispatching his dinner at the same rate; and +the third beheld him running, leaping, and playing, among his +companions, as blithe as a young kid. If he had a fault, it was being +too fond of his fiddle. This was his everlasting delight. One would have +thought that his elbow had labor enough, with jerking his needle some +thirty thousand times a day; but it was in him a sort of universal +joint—it never seemed to know what weariness was. His fiddle stood +always on the board in a corner by him, and no sooner had he ceased to +brandish his needle, than he began to brandish his fiddlestick. If ever +he could be said to be lazy, it was when his father was gone out to +measure, or try on; and his fiddle being too strong a temptation for +him, he would seize upon it, and labor at it with all his might, till he +spied his father turning his next corner homeward. Nevertheless, with +this trifling exception, he was a pattern of filial duty; and now the +time was come that his father must die—his mother was dead long before; +and he was left alone in the world with his riddle. The whole house, +board, trade—what there was of it—all was his. When he came to take +stock, and make an inventory—in his head—of what he was worth, it was +by no means such as to endanger his entrance into heaven at the proper +time. Naturally enough, he thought of the Scripture simile of the rich +man, and the camel getting through the eye of a needle; but it did not +frighten him. His father never had much beforehand, when he had the +whole place to himself; and now, behold! another knight of the steel-bar +had come from—nobody knew where—a place often talked of, yet still a +<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">terra incognita</span>; had taken a great house opposite, hoisted a +tremendous sign, and threatened to carry away every shred of Hans’s +business.</p> + +<p>In the depth of his trouble, he took to his fiddle, from his fiddle to +his bed, and in his bed he had a dream—I thought we had done with these +dreams!—in which he was assured, that could he once save the sum of +fifty dollars, it would be the seed of a fortune; that he should +flourish far beyond the scale of old Strauss; should drive his +antagonist, in utter despair, from the ground; and should, in short, +arrive eventually at no less a dignity than—Bürgermeister of Rapps!</p> + +<p>Hans was, as I believe I have said, soon set up with the smallest spice +of encouragement. He was, moreover, as light and nimble as a +grasshopper, and, in his whole appearance, much such an animal, could it +be made to stand on end. His dream, therefore, was enough. He vowed a +vow of unconquerable might, and to it he went. Springing upon his board, +he hummed a tune gayly:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There came the Hippopotamus,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A sort of river-bottom-horse,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Sneezing, snorting, blowing water<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his nostrils, and around him<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grazing up the grass—confound him!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Every mouthful a huge slaughter!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From his muzzle must away fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Or he swallowed them by legions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His huge foot, it was a pillar;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When he drank, it was a swiller!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Soon a desert were those regions.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But the grasshoppers so gallant<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Called to arms each nimble callant,<br /></span> +<span class="i3">With their wings, and stings, and nippers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gave the villain such a jawful,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">That he slipped away in slippers!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>“Ha! ha!—slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!” cried Hans, +and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did +him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of +it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was +done. He wanted little—a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough +for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when, +returning one evening from carrying out some work—behold! his door was +open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was +off! The money was gone!</p> + +<p>This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even +fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite—the +Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans’s +door? But no matter—the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he +got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. “Ay,” said +they, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span>“this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by +yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man +like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like a miser? It is a +shame!—it is a sin!—it is a judgment! Nothing better could come of it. +At all events, you might afford to have a light burning in the house. +People are ever likely to rob you. They see a house as dark as an oven; +they see nobody in it; they go in and steal; nobody can see them come +out—and that is just it. But were there a light burning, they would +always think there was somebody in. At all events, you might have a +light.”</p> + +<p>“There is something in that,” said Hans. He was not at all unreasonable: +so he determined to have a light in future: and he fell to work again.</p> + +<p>Bad as his luck had been, he resolved not to be cast down: he was as +diligent and as thrifty as ever; and he resolved, when he became +Bürgermeister of Rapps, to be especially severe on sneaking thieves, who +crept into houses that were left to the care of Providence and the +municipal authorities. A light was everlastingly burning in his window; +and the people, as they passed in the morning, said, “This man must have +a good business that requires him to be up thus early;” and they who +passed in the evening, said, “This man must be making a fortune, for he +is busy early and late.” At length Hans leaped down from his board with +the work that was to complete his sum, a second time; went; returned, +with the future Bürgermeister growing rapidly upon him; when, as he +turned the corner of the street—men and mercies!—what a spectacle! His +house was in a full burst of flame, illuminating, with a ruddy glow, +half the town, and all the faces of the inhabitants, who were collected +to witness the catastrophe. Money, fiddle, shop-board—all were +consumed! and when poor Hans danced and capered, in the very ecstasy of +his distraction—“Ay,” said his neighbors, “this comes of leaving a +light in an empty house. It was just the thing to happen. Why don’t you +get somebody to take care of things in your absence?”</p> + +<p>Hans stood corrected; for, as I have said, he was soon touched to the +quick, and though in his anger he did think it rather unkind that they, +who advised the light, now prophesied after the event; when that was a +little abated, he thought there was reason in what they now said. So, +bating not a jot of his determination to save, and to be Bürgermeister +of Rapps, he took the very next house, which luckily happened to be at +liberty, and he got a journeyman. For a long time, his case appeared +hard and hopeless. He had to pay three hundred per cent, for the piece +of a table, two stools, and a couple of hags of hay, which he had +procured of a Jew, and which, with an odd pot, and a wooden spoon or +two, constituted all his furniture. Then, he had two mouths to feed +instead of one wages to pay; and not much more work done than he could +manage himself. But still—he had dreamed; and dreams, if they are +genuine, fulfill themselves. The money grew—slowly, very slowly, but +still it grew; and Hans pitched upon a secure place, as he thought, to +conceal it in. Alas! poor Hans! He had often in his heart grumbled at +the slowness of his <cite><span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Handwerks-Bursch</span></cite>, or journeyman; but the fellow’s +eyes had been quick enough, and he proved himself a hand-work’s fellow +to some purpose, by clearing out Hans’s hiding-place, and becoming a +journeyman in earnest. The fellow was gone one morning; no great +loss—but then the money was gone with him, which <em>was</em> a terrible +loss.</p> + +<p>This was more than Hans could bear. He was perfectly cast down, +disheartened, and inconsolable. At first, he thought of running after +the fellow; and, as he knew the scamp could not go far without a +passport, and as Hans had gone the round of the country himself, in the +three years of his <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wandel-Jahre</span>, as required by the worshipful guild +of tailors, he did not doubt but that he should some day pounce upon the +scoundrel. But then, in the mean time, who was to keep his trade +together? There was the Hippopotamus watching opposite! No! it would not +do! and his neighbor, coming in to condole with him, said—“Cheer up, +man! there is nothing amiss yet. What signify a few dollars? You will +soon get plenty more, with those nimble fingers of yours. You want only +somebody to help you to keep them. You must get a wife! Journeymen were +thieves from the first generation. You must get married!”</p> + +<p>“Get married!” thought Hans. He was struck all on a heap at the very +mention of it “Get married! What! fine clothes to go a-wooing in, and +fine presents to go a-wooing with; and parson’s fees, and clerk’s fees; +and wedding-dinner, and dancing, and drinking; and then, doctor’s fees, +and nurse’s fees, and children without end! That is ruin!” thought +Hans—“without end!” The fifty dollars and the Bürgermeistership—they +might wait till doomsday.</p> + +<p>“Well, that is good!” thought Hans, as he took a little more breath. +“They first counseled me to get a light—then went house and all in a +bonfire; next, I must get a journeyman—then went the money; and now +they would have me bring more plagues upon me than Moses brought upon +Egypt. Nay, nay!” thought Hans; “you’ll not catch me there, neither.”</p> + +<p>Hans all this time was seated upon his shop-board, stitching, at an +amazing rate, upon a garment which the rascally Wagner should have +finished to order at six o’clock that morning, instead of decamping with +his money; and, ever and anon, so far forgetting his loss in what +appeared to him the ludicrousness of this advice, as freely to laugh +out. All that day, the idea continued to run in his head; the next, it +had lost much of its freshness; the third, it appeared not so odd as +awful; the fourth, he began to ask himself whether it might be quite so +momentous as his imagination had painted it; the fifth, he really +thought it was not so bad neither; the sixth, it had so worked round in +his head, that it had fairly got on the other side, and appeared clearly +to have its advantages—children did not come scampering into the world +all at once, like a flock of lambs into a meadow—a wife might help to +gather, as well as spend—might possibly bring something of her own—ay! +a new idea!—would be a perpetual watch and storekeeper in his +absence—might speak a word of comfort, in trouble when even his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</a></span> fiddle +was dumb; on the seventh—he was off! Whither?</p> + +<p>Why, it so happened that in his “wander-years,” Hans had played his +fiddle at many a dance—a very dangerous position; for his chin resting +on “the merry bit of wood,” as the ancient Friend termed that +instrument, and his head leaned on one side, he had had plenty of +opportunity to watch the movements of plenty of fair maids in the dance, +as well as occasionally to whirl them round in the everlasting waltz +himself. Accordingly, Hans had left his heart many times, for a week or +ten days or so, behind him, in many a town and dorf of Bohemia and +Germany; but it always came after him and overtook him again, except on +one occasion. Among the damsels of the Böhmer-Wald who had danced to the +sound of his fiddle, there was a certain substantial bergman’s or +master-miner’s daughter, who, having got into his head in some odd +association with his fiddle, was continually coming up as he played his +old airs, and could not be got out again, especially as he fancied that +the comely and simple-hearted creature had a lurking fondness for both +his music and himself.</p> + +<p>Away he went: and he was right. The damsel made no objection to his +overtures. Tall, stout, fresh, pleasant growth of the open air and the +hills, as she was, she never dreamed of despising the little skipping +tailor of Rapps, though he was shorter by the head than herself. She had +heard his music, and evidently had danced after it. The fiddler and +fiddle together filled up her ambition. But the old people!—they were +in perfect hysterics of wrath and indignation. Their daughter!—with the +exception of one brother, now absent on a visit to his uncle in Hungary, +a great gold-miner in the Carpathian mountains, the sole remnant of an +old, substantial house, which had fed their flocks and their herds on +the hills for three generations, and now drew wealth from the heart of +these hills themselves! It was death! poison! pestilence! The girl must +be mad; the hop-o’-my-thumb scoundrel must carry witch-powder!</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as Hans and the damsel were agreed, every thing +else—threats, denunciations, sarcasms, cuttings-off with a shilling, +and loss of a ponderous dowry—all went for nothing. They were married, +as some thousands were before them in just the like circumstances. But +if the Bohemian maid was not mad, it must be confessed that Hans was +rather so. He was monstrously exasperated at the contempt heaped by the +heavy bergman on the future Bürgermeister of Rapps, and determined to +show a little spirit. As his fiddle entered into all his schemes, he +resolved to have music at his wedding; and no sooner did he and his +bride issue from the church, than out broke the harmony which he had +provided. The fiddle played merrily, “You’ll repent, repent, repent; +you’ll repent, repent, repent;” and the bassoon answered, in surly +tones, “And soon! and soon!” “I hope, my dear,” said the bride, “You +don’t mean the words for us.” “No, love,” explained Hans, gallantly; “I +don’t say ‘we,’ but ‘you’—that is, certain haughty people on these +hills that shall be nameless.” Then the music played till they reached +the inn where they dined, and then set off in a handsome hired carriage +for Rapps.</p> + +<p>It is true, that there was little happiness in this affair to any one. +The old people were full of anger, curses, and threats of total +disownment. Hans’s pride was pricked, and perforated, till he was as +sore as if he had been tattooed with his own needle; and his wife was +completely drowned in sorrow at such a parting with her parents, and +with no little sense of remorse for her disobedience. Nevertheless, they +reached home; things began gradually to assume a more composed aspect. +Hans loved his wife; she loved him; he was industrious, she was careful; +and they trusted, in time, to bring her parents round, when they should +see that they were doing well in the world.</p> + +<p>Again the saving scheme began to haunt Hans; but he had one luckless +notion, which was destined to cost him no little vexation. With the +stock of the shop, he had inherited from his father a stock of old +maxims, which, unluckily, had not got burnt in the fire with the rest of +the patrimonial heritage. Among these was one, that a woman can not keep +a secret. Acting on this creed, Hans not only never told his wife of the +project of becoming Bürgermeister of Rapps, but he did not even give her +reason to suppose that he laid up a shilling; and that she might not +happen to stumble upon his money, he took care to carry it always about +him. It was his delight, when he got into a quiet corner, or as he came +along a retired lane, from his errands, to take it out and count it; and +calculate when it would amount to this and that sum, and when the full +sum would be really his own. Now, it happened one day, that having been +a good deal absorbed in these speculations, he had loitered a precious +piece of time away; and suddenly coming to himself, he set off, as was +his wont, on a kind of easy trot, in which, his small, light form thrown +forward, his pale, gray-eyed, earnest-looking visage thrown up toward +the sky, and his long blue coat flying in a stream behind him, he cut +one of the most extraordinary figures in the world; and checking his +pace as he entered the town, he involuntarily clapped his hand on his +pocket, and behold! his money was gone! It had slipped away through a +hole it had worn. In the wildness and bitterness of his loss, he turned +back, heartily cursing the spinner and the weaver of that most +detestable piece of buckram that composed his breeches-pocket, for +having put it together so villainously that it broke down with the +carriage of a few dollars, halfpence, thimbles, balls of wax and thread, +and a few other sundries, after the trifling wear of seven years, nine +months, and nineteen days.</p> + +<p>He was peering, step by step, after his lost treasure, when up came his +wife, running like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</a></span> one wild, and telling him that he must come that +instant; for the Ritter of Flachenflaps had brought in new liveries for +all his servants, and threatened if he did not see Hans in five minutes, +he would carry the work over to the other side of the street. There was +a perplexity! The money was not to be found, and if it were found in the +presence of his wife, he would regard it as no better than lost. He was +therefore obliged to excuse his conduct, being caught in the act of +poring after something, to tell, if not a lie, at least the very +smallest part of the truth, and say that he had lost his thimble. The +money was not found, and to make bad worse, he was in danger of losing a +good job, and all the Ritter’s work forever, as a consequence.</p> + +<p>Away he ran, therefore, groaning inwardly, at full speed, and, arriving +out of breath, saw the Ritter’s carriage drawn up at his opponent’s +door. Wormwood upon wormwood! His money was lost; his best customer was +lost, and thrown into the jaws of the detested Hippopotamus. There he +beheld him and his man in a prime bustle from day to day, while his own +house was deserted. All people went where the Ritter went, of course. +The Hippopotamus was now grazing and browsing through Hans’s richest +meadows with a vengeance. He was flourishing out of all bounds. He had +got a horse to ride out on and take orders, and to all appearance was +likely to become Bürgermeister ten years before Hans had got ten dollars +of his own.</p> + +<p>It was too much for even his sanguine temperament; he sank down to the +very depths of despair; his fiddle had lost its music; he could not +abide to hear it; he sate moody and disconsolate, with a beard an inch +long. His wife for some time hoped it would go off; but, seeing it come +to this, she began to console and advise, to rouse his courage and his +spirits. She told him it was that horse which gave the advantage to his +neighbor. While he went trudging on foot, wearying himself, and wasting +his time, people came, grew weary, and would not wait. She offered, +therefore, to borrow her neighbor’s ass for him; and advised him to ride +out daily a little way. It would look as though he had business in the +country. It would look as if his time was precious; it would look well, +and do his health good into the bargain. Hans liked her counsel; it +sounded well—nay, exceedingly discreet. He always thought her a gem of +a woman, but he never imagined her half so able. What a pity a woman +could not be trusted with a secret! Were it not for that, she would be a +helpmate past all reckoning.</p> + +<p>The ass, however, was got: out rode Hans; looked amazingly hurried; and, +being half-crazed with care, people thought he was half-crazed with +stress of business. Work came in; things went flowingly on again; Hans +blessed his stars; and as he grasped his cash, he every day stitched it +into the crown of his cap, taking paper-money for the purpose. No more +pots, no more hiding-holes, no more breeches-pockets for him; he put it +under the guardianship of his own strong thread and dexterous needle; +and all went on exceedingly well.</p> + +<p>Accidents will, however, occur, if men will not trust their wives; and +especially if they will not avoid awkward habits. Now, Hans had a +strange habit of sticking his needles on his breeches-knees as he sat at +work; and sometimes he would have half-a-dozen on each knee for +half-a-dozen days. His wife often told him to take them out when he came +down from his board, and often took them out herself; but it was of no +use. He was just in this case one day as he rode out to take measure of +a gentleman, about five miles off. The ass, to his thinking, was in a +remarkably brisk mood. Off it went, without whip or spur, at a good +active trot, and, not satisfied with trotting, soon fairly proceeded to +a gallop. Hans was full of wonder at the beast. Commonly it tired his +arm worse with thrashing it during his hour’s ride, than the exercise of +his goose and sleeve-board did for a whole day; but now he was fain to +pull it in. It was to no purpose; faster than ever it dashed on, +prancing, running sideways, wincing, and beginning to show a most ugly +temper. What, in the name of all Balaams, could possess the animal, he +could not for his life conceive! The only chance of safety appeared to +lie in clinging with both arms and legs to it, like a boa-constrictor to +its victim, when, shy!—away it flew, as if it were driven by a legion +of devils. In another moment, it stopped; down went its head, up went +its infernal heels; and Hans found himself some ten yards off, in the +middle of a pool. He escaped drowning, but the cap was gone; he had been +foolish enough to stitch some dollars, in hard cash, recently received, +into it along with his paper, and they sunk it, past recovery! He came +home, dripping like a drowned mouse, with a most deplorable tale; but +with no more knowledge of the cause of his disaster than the man in the +moon, till he tore his fingers on the needles, in abstracting his wet +clothes.</p> + +<p>Fortune now seemed to have said, as plainly as she could speak, “Hans, +confide in your wife. You see all your schemes without her fail. Open +your heart to her—deal fairly, generously, and you will reap the merits +of it.” It was all in vain—he had not yet come to his senses. Obstinate +as a mule—he determined to try once more. But good-by to the ass! The +only thing he resolved to mount was his shop board—that bore him well, +and brought him continued good, could he only continue to keep it.</p> + +<p>His wife, I said, came from the mountains; she, therefore, liked the +sight of trees. Now, in Hans’s back-yard there was neither tree nor +turf, so she got some tubs, and in them she planted a variety of +fir-trees, which made a pleasant appearance, and gave a help to her +imagination of the noble firs of her native scenes. In one of these +tubs, Hans conceived the singular design of depositing his future +treasure. “Nobody, will meddle with them,” he thought, so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span> accordingly, +from week to week, he concealed in one of them his acquisitions. It had +gone on a long time. He had been out one day, collecting some of his +debts—he had succeeded beyond his hopes, and came back exulting. The +sum was saved; and, in the gladness of his heart, he bought his wife a +new gown. He bounded into the house with the lightness of seventeen. His +wife was not there—he looked into the back-yard. Saints and angels! +what is that? He beheld his wife busy with the tubs. The trees were +uprooted, and laid on the ground, and every particle of soil was thrown +out of the tubs. In the delirium of consternation, he flew to ask what +she had been doing.</p> + +<p>“Oh! the trees, poor things, did not flourish; they looked sickly and +pining; she determined to give them some soil more suitable to their +natures; she had thrown the earth into the river, at the bottom of the +yard.”</p> + +<p>“And you have thrown into the river,” exclaimed Hans, frantically, “the +hoarding of three years; the money which had cost me many a weary +day—many an anxious night. The money which would have made our +fortunes—in short, that would have made me Bürgermeister of Rapps.” +Completely thrown off his guard, he betrayed his secret.</p> + +<p>“Good gracious!” cried his wife, exceedingly alarmed; “why did you not +tell me of it?”</p> + +<p>“Ay, that is the question!” said he. And it was a question; for, spite +of himself, it had occurred to his mind some dozens of times, and now it +came so overwhelmingly, that even when he thought he treated it with +contempt, it had fixed itself upon his better reason, and never left him +till it had worked a most fortunate revolution. He said to himself, “Had +I told my wife of it at the first, it could not possibly have happened +worse; and it is very likely it would have happened better. For the +future, then, be it so.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon, he unfolded to her the whole history and mystery of his +troubles, and his hopes. Now, Mrs. Hans Nadeltreiber had great cause to +feel herself offended, most grievously offended; but she was not at all +of a touchy temperament. She was a sweet, tender, patient, loving +creature, who desired her husband’s honor and prosperity beyond any +thing; so she sate down, and in the most mild, yet acute and able +manner, laid down to him a plan of operations, and promised him such +aids and succors, that, struck at once with shame, contrition, and +admiration, he sprung up, clasped her to his heart, called her the very +gem of womanhood, and skipped two or three times across the floor, like +a man gone out of his senses. The truth is, however, he was but just +come into them.</p> + +<p>From this day, a new life was begun in Hans’s house. There he sat at his +work; there sat his wife by his side; aiding and contriving with a +woman’s wit, a woman’s love, and a woman’s adroitness. She was worth ten +journeymen. Work never came in faster; never gave such satisfaction; +never brought in so much money; nor, besides this, was there ever such +harmony in the house, nor had they ever held such delectable discourse +together. There was nothing to conceal. Hans’s thoughts flowed like a +great stream; and when they grew a little wild and visionary, as they +were apt to do, his wife smoothened and reduced them to sobriety, with +such a delicate touch, that, so far from feeling offended, he was +delighted beyond expression with her prudence. The fifty dollars were +raised in almost no time; and, as if prognostic of its becoming the seed +of a fortune, it came in most opportunely for purchasing a lot of cloth, +which more than trebled its cost, and gave infinite satisfaction to his +customers. Hans saw that the tide was rapidly rising with him, and his +wife urged him to push on with it; to take a larger house; to get more +hands; and to cut such a figure as should at once eclipse his rival. The +thing was done; but as their capital was still found scanty enough for +such an undertaking, Mrs. Nadeltreiber resolved to try what she could do +to increase it.</p> + +<p>I should have informed the reader, had not the current of Hans’s +disasters ran too strong for me, that his wife’s parents were dead, and +had died without giving her any token of reconciliation—a circumstance +which, although it cut her to the heart, did not quite cast her down, +feeling that she had done nothing but what a parent might forgive, being +all of us creatures alike liable to error, demanding alike some little +indulgence for our weaknesses and our fancies. Her brother was now sole +representative of the family; and knowing the generosity of his nature, +she determined to pay him a visit, although, for the first time since +her marriage, in a condition very unfit for traveling. She went. Her +brother received her with all his early affection. In his house was born +her first child; and so much did she and her bantling win upon his +heart, that when the time came that she must return, nothing would serve +but he would take her himself. She had been so loud in Hans’s praise, +that he determined to go and shake him by the hand. It would have done +any one good to have seen this worthy mountaineer setting forth, seated +in his neat, green-painted wicker wagon; his sister by his side, and the +child snugly-bedded in his own corn-hopper at their feet. Thus did they +go statelily, with his great black horse drawing them. It would have +been equally pleasant to see him set down his charge at the door of +Hans’s house, and behold with wonder that merry mannikin, all smiles and +gesticulation, come forth to receive them. The contrast between Hans and +his brother-in-law was truly amusing. He, a shadow-like homunculus, so +light and dry, that any wind threatened to blow him before it; the +bergman, with a countenance like the rising sun, the stature of a giant, +and limbs like an elephant. Hans watched, with considerable anxiety, the +experiment of his kinsman seating himself in a chair. The chair, +however, stood firm; and the good man surveyed Hans, in return, with a +curious and crit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span>ical air, as if doubtful whether he must not hold him +in contempt for the want of that solid matter of which he himself had +too much. Hans’s good qualities, however, got the better of him. “The +man’s a man, though,” said he to himself, very philosophically, “and as +he is good to my sister, he shall know of it.” Hans delighted him every +evening, by the powers of his violin; and the bergman, excessively fond +of music, like most of his countrymen, declared that he might perform in +the emperor’s orchestra, and find nobody there to beat him. When he took +his leave, therefore, he seized one of Hans’s hands with a cordial gripe +that was felt through every limb, and into the other he put a bag of one +thousand rix dollars, saying, “My sister ought not to have come +dowerless into a good husband’s house. This is properly her own: take +it, and much good may it do you.”</p> + +<p>Our story need not be prolonged. The new tailor soon fled before the +star of Hans’s ascendency. A very few years saw him installed into the +office of Bürgermeister, the highest of earthly honors in his eyes; and +if he had one trouble left, it was only in the reflection that he might +have attained his wishes years before had he understood the heart of a +good woman. The worshipful Herr Bürgermeister, and Frau Bürgermeisterin +of Rapps, often visited their colossal brother of the Böhmerwald, and +were thought to reflect no discredit on the old bergman family.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Little_Mary" id="Little_Mary"></a>[From Dickens’s “Household Words.”]</p> + +<h2>LITTLE MARY.—A TALE OF THE IRISH FAMINE.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">That</span> was a pleasant place where I was born, though ’twas only a thatched +cabin by the side of a mountain stream, where the country was so lonely, +that in summer time the wild ducks used to bring their young ones to +feed on the bog, within a hundred yards of our door; and you could not +stoop over the bank to raise a pitcher full of water, without +frightening a shoal of beautiful speckled trout. Well, ’tis long ago +since my brother Richard, that’s now grown a fine, clever man, God bless +him! and myself, used to set off together up the mountain to pick +bunches of the cotton plant and the bog myrtle, and to look for birds’ +and wild bees’ nests. ’Tis long ago—and though I’m happy and well off +now, living in the big house as own maid to the young ladies, who, on +account of my being foster-sister to poor darling Miss Ellen, that died +of decline, treat me more like their equal than their servant, and give +me the means to improve myself; still, at times, especially when James +Sweeney, a dacent boy of the neighbors, and myself are taking a walk +together through the fields in the cool and quiet of a summer’s evening, +I can’t help thinking of the times that are passed, and talking about +them to James with a sort of peaceful sadness, more happy, maybe, than +if we ware laughing aloud.</p> + +<p>Every evening, before I say my prayers, I read a chapter in the Bible +that Miss Ellen gave me; and last night I felt my tears dropping forever +so long over one verse, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their +eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, +neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed +away.” The words made me think of them that are gone—of my father, and +his wife that was a true, fond mother to me; and above all, of my little +sister Mary, the <em>clureen bawn</em><a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> that nestled in her bosom.</p> + +<p>I was a wild slip of a girl, ten years of age, and my brother Richard +about two years older, when my father brought home his second wife. She +was the daughter of a farmer up at Lackabawn, and was reared with care +and dacency; but her father held his ground at a rack-rent, and the +middleman that was between him and the head landlord did not pay his own +rent, so the place was ejected, and the farmer collected every penny he +had, and set off with his family to America. My father had a liking for +the youngest daughter, and well become him to have it, for a sweeter +creature never drew the breath of life; but while her father passed for +a <em>strong</em><a name="FNanchor_G_7" id="FNanchor_G_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> farmer, he was timorous-like about asking her to share his +little cabin; however, when he found how matters stood, he didn’t lose +much time in finding out that she was willing to be his wife, and a +mother to his boy and girl. <em>That</em> she was, a patient loving one. Oh! it +often sticks me like a knife, when I think how many times I fretted her +with my foolishness and my idle ways, and how ’twas a long time before +I’d call her “mother.” Often, when my father would be going to chastise +Richard and myself for our provoking doings, especially the day that we +took half-a-dozen eggs from under the hatching hen, to play “Blind Tom” +with them, she’d interfere for us, and say, “Tim, <em>aleagh</em>, don’t touch +them this time; sure ’tis only <em>arch</em> they are: they’ll get more sense +in time.” And then, after he was gone out, she’d advise us for our good +so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn’t look black at her. +She did wonders, too, about the house and garden. They were both dirty +and neglected enough when she first came over them; for I was too young +and foolish, and my father too busy with his out-door work, and the old +woman that lived with us in service too feeble and too blind to keep the +place either clean or decent; but my mother got the floor raised, and +the green pool in front drained, and a parcel of roses and honey-suckles +planted there instead. The neighbors’ wives used to say, ’twas all pride +and upsetting folly, to keep the kitchen-floor swept clean, and to put +the potatoes on a dish, instead of emptying them out of the pot into the +middle of the table; and, besides, ’twas a cruel, unnatural thing, they +said, to take away the pool from the ducks, that they were always used +to paddle in so handy. But my <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</a></span>mother was always too busy and too happy +to heed what they said; and, besides, she was always so ready to do a +kind turn for any of them, that, out of poor shame, they had at last to +leave off abusing her “fine English ways.”</p> + +<p>West of our house +there was a straggling, stony piece of ground, where, within the memory +of man nothing ever grew but nettles, docks, and thistles. One Monday, +when Richard and myself came in from school, my mother told us to set +about weeding it, and to bring in some basketfuls of good clay from the +banks of the river; she said that if we worked well at it until +Saturday, she’d bring me a new frock, and Dick a jacket, from the next +market-town; and encouraged by this, we set to work with right good +will, and didn’t leave off till supper time. The next day we did the +same; and by degrees, when we saw the heap of weeds and stones that we +got out, growing big, and the ground looking nice and smooth and red and +rich, we got quite anxious about it ourselves, and we built a nice +little fence round it to keep out the pigs. When it was manured, my +mother planted cabbages, parsnips, and onions in it; and, to be sure, +she got a fine crop out of it, enough to make us many a nice supper of +vegetables stewed with pepper, and a small taste of bacon or a red +herring. Besides, she sold in the market as much as bought a Sunday coat +for my father, a gown for herself, a fine pair of shoes for Dick, and as +pretty a shawl for myself, as e’er a colleen in the country could show +at mass. Through means of my father’s industry and my mother’s good +management, we were, with the blessing of God, as snug and comfortable a +poor family as any in Munster. We paid but a small rent, and we had +always plenty of potatoes to eat, good clothes to wear, and cleanliness +and decency in and about our little cabin.</p> + +<p>Five years passed on in this way, and at last little Mary was born. She +was a delicate fairy thing, with that look, even from the first, in her +blue eyes, which is seldom seen, except where the shadow of the grave +darkens the cradle. She was fond of her father, and of Richard, and of +myself, and would laugh and crow when she saw us, but <em>the love in the +core of her heart</em> was for her mother. No matter how tired, or sleepy, +or cross the baby might be, one word from <em>her</em> would set the bright +eyes dancing, and the little rosy month smiling, and the tiny limbs +quivering, as if walking or running couldn’t content her, but she must +fly to her mother’s arms. And how that mother doted on the very ground +she trod! I often thought that the Queen in her state carriage, with her +son, God bless him! alongside of her, dressed out in gold and jewels, +was not one bit happier than my mother, when she sat under the shade of +the mountain ash, near the door, in the hush of the summer’s evening, +singing and <em>cronauning</em> her only one to sleep in her arms. In the month +of October, 1845, Mary was four years old. That was the bitter time, +when first the food of the earth was turned to poison; when the gardens +that used to be so bright and sweet, covered with the purple and white +potato blossoms, became in one night black and offensive, as if fire had +come down from heaven to burn them up. ’Twas a heart-breaking thing to +see the laboring men, the crathurs! that had only the one half-acre to +feed their little families, going out, after work, in the evenings to +dig their suppers from under the black stalks. Spadeful after spadeful +would be turned up, and a long piece of a ridge dug through, before +they’d get a small kish full of such withered <em>crohauneens</em>,<a name="FNanchor_H_8" id="FNanchor_H_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> as other +years would be hardly counted fit for the pigs.</p> + +<p>It was some time before the distress reached us, for there was a trifle +of money in the savings’ bank, that held us in meal, while the neighbors +were next door to starvation. As long as my father and mother had it, +they shared it freely with them that were worse off than themselves; but +at last the little penny of money was all spent, the price of flour was +raised; and, to make matters worse, the farmer that my father worked +for, at a poor eight-pence a day, was forced to send him and three more +of his laborers away, as he couldn’t afford to pay them even <em>that</em> any +longer. Oh! ’twas a sorrowful night when my father brought home the +news. I remember, as well as if I saw it yesterday, the desolate look in +his face when he sat down by the ashes of the turf fire that had just +baked a yellow meal cake for his supper. My mother was at the opposite +side, giving little Mary a drink of sour milk out of her little wooden +piggin, and the child didn’t like it, being delicate and always used to +sweet milk, so she said:</p> + +<p>“Mammy, won’t you give me some of the nice milk instead of that?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t it <em>asthore</em>, nor can’t get it,” said her mother, “so don’t +ye fret.”</p> + +<p>Not a word more out of the little one’s mouth, only she turned her +little cheek in toward her mother, and staid quite quiet, as if she was +hearkening to what was going on.</p> + +<p>“Judy,” said my father, “God is good, and sure ’tis only in Him we must +put our trust; for in the wide world I can see nothing but starvation +before us.”</p> + +<p>“God <em>is</em> good, Tim,” replied my mother; “He won’t forsake us.”</p> + +<p>Just then Richard came in with a more joyful face than I had seen on him +for many a day.</p> + +<p>“Good news!” says he, “good news, father! there’s work for us both on +the Droumcarra road. The government works are to begin there to-morrow; +you’ll get eight-pence a day, and I’ll get six-pence.”</p> + +<p>If you saw our delight when we heard this, you’d think ’twas the free +present of a thousand pounds that came to us, falling through the roof, +instead of an offer of small wages for hard work.</p> + +<p>To be sure the +potatoes were gone, and the yellow meal was dear and dry and chippy—it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span>hadn’t the <em>nature</em> about it that a hot potato has for a poor man; but +still ’twas a great thing to have the prospect of getting enough of even +that same, and not to be obliged to follow the rest of the country into +the poor-house, which was crowded to that degree that the crathurs +there—God help them!—hadn’t room even to die quietly in their beds, +but were crowded together on the floor like so many dogs in a kennel. +The next morning my father and Richard were off before daybreak, for +they had a long way to walk to Droumcarra, and they should be there in +time to begin work. They took an Indian meal cake with them to eat for +their dinner, and poor dry food it was, with only a draught of cold +water to wash it down. Still my father, who was knowledgeable about such +things, always said it was mighty wholesome when it was well cooked; but +some of the poor people took a great objection against it on account of +the yellow color, which they thought came from having sulphur mixed with +it—and they said, Indeed it was putting a great affront on the decent +Irish to mix up their food as if ’twas for mangy dogs. Glad enough, poor +creatures, they were to get it afterward, when sea-weed and nettles, and +the very grass by the roadside, was all that many of them had to put +into their mouths.</p> + +<p>When my father and brother came home in the evening, faint and tired +from the two long walks and the day’s work, my mother would always try +to have something for them to eat with their porridge—a bit of butter, +or a bowl of thick milk, or maybe a few eggs. She always gave me plenty +as far as it would go; but ’twas little she took herself. She would +often go entirely without a meal, and then she’d slip down to the +huckster’s, and buy a little white bun for Mary; and I’m sure it used to +do her more good to see the child eat it, than if she had got a +meat-dinner for herself. No matter how hungry the poor little thing +might be, she’d always break off a bit to put into her mother’s mouth, +and she would not be satisfied until she saw her swallow it; then the +child would take a drink of cold water out of her little tin porringer, +as contented as if it was new milk.</p> + +<p>As the winter advanced, the weather became wet and bitterly cold, and +the poor men working on the roads began to suffer dreadfully from being +all day in wet clothes, and, what was worse, not having any change to +put on when they went home at night without a dry thread about them. +Fever soon got among them, and my father took it. My mother brought the +doctor to see him, and by selling all our decent clothes, she got for +him whatever was wanting, but all to no use: ’twas the will of the Lord +to take him to himself, and he died after a few days’ illness.</p> + +<p>It would be hard to tell the sorrow that his widow and orphans felt, +when they saw the fresh sods planted on his grave. It was not grief +altogether like the grand stately grief of the quality, although maybe +the same sharp knife is sticking into the same sore bosom <em>inside</em> in +both; but the <em>outside</em> differs in rich and poor. I saw the mistress a +week after Miss Ellen died. She was in her drawing-room with the blinds +pulled down, sitting in a low chair, with her elbow on the small +work-table, and her cheek resting on her hand—not a speck of any thing +white about her but the cambric handkerchief, and the face that was +paler than the marble chimney-piece.</p> + +<p>When she saw me (for the butler, being busy, sent me in with the +luncheon-tray), she covered her eyes with her handkerchief, and began to +cry, but quietly, as if she did not want it to be noticed. As I was +going out, I just heard her say to Miss Alice in a choking voice:</p> + +<p>“Keep Sally here always; our poor darling was fond of her.” And as I +closed the door, I heard her give one deep sob. The next time I saw her, +she was quite composed; only for the white cheek and the black dress, +you would not know that the burning feel of a child’s last kiss had ever +touched her lips.</p> + +<p>My father’s wife mourned for him after another fashion. <em>She</em> could not +sit quiet, she must work hard to keep the life in them to whom he gave +it; and it was only in the evenings when she sat down before the fire +with Mary in her arms, that she used to sob and rock herself to and fro, +and sing a low, wailing keen for the father of the little one, whose +innocent tears were always ready to fall when she saw her mother cry. +About this time my mother got an offer from some of the hucksters in the +neighborhood, who knew her honesty, to go three times a week to the next +market-town, ten miles off, with their little money, and bring them back +supplies of bread, groceries, soap, and candles. This she used to do, +walking the twenty miles—ten of them with a heavy load on her back—for +the sake of earning enough to keep us alive. ’Twas very seldom that +Richard could get a stroke of work to do: the boy wasn’t strong in +himself, for he had the sickness too; though he recovered from it, and +always did his best to earn an honest penny wherever he could. I often +wanted my mother to let me go in her stead and bring back the load; but +she never would hear of it, and kept me at home to mind the house and +little Mary. My poor pet lamb! ’twas little minding she wanted. She +would go after breakfast and sit at the door, and stop there all day, +watching for her mother, and never heeding the neighbors’ children that +used to come wanting her to play. Through the live-long hours she would +never stir, but just keep her eyes fixed on the lonesome <em>boreen</em>;<a name="FNanchor_I_9" id="FNanchor_I_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> +and when the shadow of the mountain-ash grew long, and she caught a +glimpse of her mother ever so far off, coming toward home, the joy that +would flush on the small, patient face, was brighter than the sunbeam on +the river. And faint and weary as the poor woman used to be, before ever +she sat down, she’d have Mary nestling in her bosom. No matter how +little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span>she might have eaten herself that day, she would always bring +home a little white bun for Mary; and the child, that had tasted nothing +since morning, would eat it so happily, and then fall quietly asleep in +her mother’s arms.</p> + +<p>At the end of some months I got the sickness +myself, but not so heavily as Richard did before. Any way, he and my +mother tended me well through it. They sold almost every little stick of +furniture that was left, to buy me drink and medicine. By degrees I +recovered, and the first evening I was able to sit up, I noticed a +strange, wild brightness in my mother’s eyes, and a hot flush on her +thin cheeks—she had taken the fever.</p> + +<p>Before she lay down on the wisp of straw that served her for a bed, she +brought little Mary over to me: “Take her, Sally,” she said—and between +every word she gave the child a kiss—“take her; she’s safer with you +than she’d be with me, for you’re over the sickness, and ’tisn’t long +any way, I’ll be with you, my jewel,” she said, as she gave the little +creature one long close hug, and put her into my arms.</p> + +<p>’Twould take long to tell all about her sickness—how Richard and I, as +good right we had, tended her night and day; and how, when every +farthing and farthing’s worth we had in the world was gone, the mistress +herself came down from the big house, the very day after the family +returned home from France, and brought wine, food, medicine, linen, and +every thing we could want.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the kind lady was gone, my mother took the change for +death; her senses came back, she grew quite strong-like, and sat up +straight in the bed.</p> + +<p>“Bring me the child, Sally, <em>aleagh</em>,” she said. And when I carried +little Mary over to her, she looked into the tiny face, as if she was +reading it like a book.</p> + +<p>“You won’t be long away from me, my own one,” she said, while her tears +fell down upon the child like summer-rain.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said I, as well as I could speak for crying, “sure you <em>Know</em> +I’ll do my best to tend her.”</p> + +<p>“I know you will, <em>acushla</em>; you were always a true and dutiful daughter +to me and to him that’s gone; but, Sally, there’s <em>that</em> in my weeny one +that won’t let her thrive without the mother’s hand over her, and the +mother’s heart for hers to lean against. And now—” It was all she could +say: she just clasped the little child to her bosom, fell back on my +arm, and in a few moments all was over. At first, Richard and I could +not believe that she was dead; and it was very long before the orphan +would loose her hold of the stiffening fingers; but when the neighbors +came in to prepare for the wake, we contrived to flatter her away.</p> + +<p>Days passed on; the child was very quiet; she used to go as usual to sit +at the door, and watch, hour after hour, along the road that her mother +always took coming home from market, waiting for her that could never +come again. When the sun was near setting, her gaze used to be more +fixed and eager; but when the darkness came on, her blue eyes used to +droop like the flowers that shut up their leaves, and she would come in +quietly without saying a word, and allow me to undress her and put her +to bed.</p> + +<p>It troubled us and the young ladies greatly that she would not eat. It +was almost impossible to get her to taste a morsel; indeed the only +thing she would let inside her lips was a bit of a little white bun, +like those her poor mother used to bring her. There was nothing left +untried to please her. I carried her up to the big house, thinking the +change might do her good, and the ladies petted her, and talked to her, +and gave her heaps of toys and cakes, and pretty frocks and coats; but +she hardly noticed them, and was restless and uneasy until she got back +to her own low, sunny door-step.</p> + +<p>Every day she grew paler and thinner, and her bright eyes had a sad, +fond look in them, so like her mother’s. One evening she sat at the door +later than usual.</p> + +<p>“Come in, <em>alannah</em>,” I said to her. “Won’t you come in for your own +Sally?”</p> + +<p>She never stirred. I went over to her; she was quite still, with her +little hands crossed on her lap, and her head drooping on her chest. I +touched her—she was cold. I gave a loud scream, and Richard came +running; he stopped and looked, and then burst out crying like an +infant. Our little sister was dead!</p> + +<p>Well, my Mary, the sorrow was bitter, but it was short. You’re gone home +to Him that comforts as a mother comforteth. <em>Agra machree</em>, your eyes +are as blue, and your hair as golden, and your voice as sweet, as they +were when you watched by the cabin-door; but your cheeks are not pale, +<em>acushla</em>, nor your little hands thin, and the shade of sorrow has +passed away from your forehead like a rain-cloud from the summer sky. +She that loved you so on earth, has clasped you forever to her bosom in +heaven; and God himself has wiped away all tears from your eyes, and +placed you both and our own dear father, far beyond the touch of sorrow +or the fear of death.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> White dove.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_7" id="Footnote_G_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_7"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Rich.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_8" id="Footnote_H_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_8"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> Small potatoes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_9" id="Footnote_I_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_9"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> By-road.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_OLD_WELL_IN_LANGUEDOC" id="THE_OLD_WELL_IN_LANGUEDOC"></a>THE OLD WELL IN LANGUEDOC.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> proof of the truth of the following statement, taken from the +<cite><span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Courrier de l’Europe</span></cite>, rests not only upon the known veracity of the +narrator, but upon the fact that the whole occurrence is registered in +the judicial records of the criminal trials of the province of +Languedoc. We give it as we heard it from the lips of the dreamer, as +nearly as possible in his own words.</p> + +<p>As the junior partner in a commercial house at Lyons, I had been +traveling some time on the business of the firm, when, one evening in +the month of June, I arrived at a town in Languedoc where I had never +before been. I put up at a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[Pg 522]</a></span> quiet inn in the suburbs, and, being very +much fatigued, ordered dinner at once; and went to bed almost +immediately after, determined to begin very early in the morning my +visits to the different merchants.</p> + +<p>I was no sooner in bed than I fell into a deep sleep, and had a +dream that made the strongest impression upon me.</p> + +<p>I thought that I had arrived at the same town, but in the middle of the +day, instead of the evening, as was really the case; that I had stopped +at the very same inn, and gone out immediately, as an unoccupied +stranger would do, to see whatever was worthy of observation in the +place. I walked down the main street, into another street, crossing it +at right angles, and apparently leading into the country. I had not gone +very far, when I came to a church, the Gothic portico of which I stopped +to examine. When I had satisfied my curiosity, I advanced to a by-path +which branched off from the main street. Obeying an impulse which I +could neither account for nor control, I struck into the path, though it +was winding, rugged, and unfrequented, and presently reached a miserable +cottage, in front of which was a garden covered with weeds. I had no +difficulty in getting into the garden, for the hedge had several gaps in +it, wide enough to admit four carts abreast. I approached an old well, +which stood solitary and gloomy in a distant corner; and looking down +into it, I beheld distinctly, without any possibility of mistake, a +corpse which had been stabbed in several places. I counted the deep +wounds and the wide gashes whence the blood was flowing.</p> + +<p>I would have cried out, but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. At +this moment I awoke, with my hair on end, trembling in every limb, and +cold drops of perspiration bedewing my forehead—awoke to find myself +comfortably in bed, my trunk standing beside me, birds warbling +cheerfully around my window; while a young, clear voice was singing a +provincial air in the next room, and the morning sun was shining +brightly through the curtains.</p> + +<p>I sprung from my bed, dressed myself, and, as it was yet very early, I +thought I would seek an appetite for breakfast by a morning stroll. I +accordingly entered the main street, and went along. The farther I +walked, the stranger became the confused recollection of the objects +that presented themselves to my view. “It is very strange,” I thought; +“I have never been here before; and I could swear that I have seen this +house, and the next, and that other on the left.” On I went, till I came +to the corner of a street, crossing the one down which I had come. For +the first time, I remembered my dream, but put away the thought as too +absurd; still, at every step, some fresh point of resemblance struck me. +“Am I still dreaming!” I exclaimed, not without a momentary thrill +through my whole frame. “Is the agreement to be perfect to the very +end?” Before long, I reached the church, with the same architectural +features that had attracted my notice in the dream; and then the +high-road, along which I pursued my way, coming at length to the same +by-path that had presented itself to my imagination a few hours before. +There was no possibility of doubt or mistake. Every tree, every turn, +was familiar to me. I was not at all of a superstitious turn, and was +wholly engrossed in the practical details of commercial business. My +mind had never dwelt upon the hallucinations, the presentiments, that +science either denies, or is unable to explain; but I must confess, that +I now felt myself spell-bound, as by some enchantment; and, with +Pascal’s words on my lips, “A continued dream would be equal to +reality,” I hurried forward, no longer doubting that the next moment +would bring me to the cottage; and this really was the case. In all its +outward circumstances, it corresponded to what I had seen in my dream. +Who, then, could wonder that I determined to ascertain whether the +coincidence would hold good in every other point? I entered the garden, +and went direct to the spot on which I had seen the well; but here the +resemblance failed—well, there was none. I looked in every direction; +examined the whole garden, went round the cottage, which appeared to be +inhabited, although no person was visible; but nowhere could I find any +vestige of a well.</p> + +<p>I made no attempt to enter the cottage, but hastened back to the hotel, +in a state of agitation difficult to describe. I could not make up my +mind to pass unnoticed such extraordinary coincidences; but how was any +clew to be obtained to the terrible mystery?</p> + +<p>I went to the landlord, and after chatting with him for some time on +different subjects, I came to the point, and asked him directly to whom +the cottage belonged that was on a by-road which I described to him.</p> + +<p>“I wonder, sir,” said he, “what made you take such particular notice of +such a wretched little hovel. It is inhabited by an old man with his +wife, who have the character of being very morose and unsociable. They +rarely leave the house—see nobody, and nobody goes to see them; but +they are quiet enough, and I never heard any thing against them beyond +this. Of late, their very existence seems to have been forgotten; and I +believe, sir, that you are the first who, for years, has turned his +steps to the deserted spot.”</p> + +<p>These details, far from satisfying my curiosity, did but provoke it the +more. Breakfast was served, but I could not touch it; and I felt that if +I presented myself to the merchants in such a state of excitement, they +would think me mad; and, indeed, I felt very much excited. I paced up +and down the room, looked out at the window, trying to fix my attention +on some external object, but in vain. I endeavored to interest myself in +a quarrel between two men in the street; but the garden and the cottage +preoccupied my mind; and, at last, snatching my hat, I cried, “I will +go, come what may.”</p> + +<p>I repaired to the nearest magistrate, told him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[Pg 523]</a></span> the object of my visit, +and related the whole circumstance briefly and clearly. I saw directly +that he was much impressed by my statement.</p> + +<p>“It is, indeed, very strange,” said he, “and after what has happened, I +do not think I am at liberty to leave the matter without further +inquiry. Important business will prevent my accompanying you in a +search, but I will place two of the police at your command. Go once more +to the hovel, see its inhabitants, and search every part of it. You may, +perhaps, make some important discovery.”</p> + +<p>I suffered but a very few moments to elapse before I was on my way, +accompanied by the two officers, and we soon reached the cottage. We +knocked, and after waiting for some time, an old man opened the door. He +received us somewhat uncivilly, but showed no mark of suspicion, nor, +indeed, of any other emotion, when we told him we wished to search the +house.</p> + +<p>“Very well, gentlemen; as fast, and as soon as you please,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Have you a well here?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; we are obliged to go for water to a spring at a considerable +distance.”</p> + +<p>We searched the house, which I did, I confess, with a kind of feverish +excitement, expecting every moment to bring some fatal secret to light. +Meantime, the man gazed upon us with an impenetrable vacancy of look, +and we at last left the cottage without seeing any thing that could +confirm my suspicions. I resolved to inspect the garden once more; and a +number of idlers having been by this time collected, drawn to the spot +by the sight of a stranger with two armed men engaged in searching the +premises, I made inquiries of some of them whether they knew any thing +about a well in that place. I could get no information at first, but at +length an old woman came slowly forward, leaning on a crutch.</p> + +<p>“A well!” cried she; “is it the well you are looking after? That has +been gone these thirty years. I remember, as if it were only yesterday, +many a time, when I was a young girl, how I used to amuse myself by +throwing stones into it, and hearing the splash they used to make in the +water.”</p> + +<p>“And could you tell where that well used to be?” I asked, almost +breathless with excitement.</p> + +<p>“As near as I can remember, on the very spot on which your honor is +standing,” said the old woman.</p> + +<p>“I could have sworn it!” thought I, springing from the place as if I had +trod upon a scorpion.</p> + +<p>Need I say, that we set to work to dig up the ground. At about eighteen +inches deep, we came to a layer of bricks, which, being broken up, gave +to view some boards, which were easily removed; after which we beheld +the mouth of the well.</p> + +<p>“I was quite sure it was here,” said the woman. “What a fool the old +fellow was to stop it up, and then have so far to go for water!”</p> + +<p>A sounding-line, furnished with hooks, was let down into the well; the +crowd pressing around us, and breathlessly bending over the dark and +fetid hole, the secrets of which seemed hidden in impenetrable +obscurity. This was repeated several times without any result. At +length, penetrating below the mud, the hooks caught an old chest, upon +the top of which had been thrown a great many large stones; and after +much effort and time, we succeeded in raising it to daylight. The sides +and lid were decayed and rotten; it needed no locksmith to open it; and +we found within, what I was certain we should find, and which paralyzed +with horror all the spectators, who had not my pre-convictions—we found +the remains of a human body.</p> + +<p>The police-officers who had accompanied me now rushed into the house, +and secured the person of the old man. As to his wife, no one could at +first tell what had become of her. After some search, however, she was +found hidden behind a bundle of fagots.</p> + +<p>By this time, nearly the whole town had gathered around the spot; and +now that this horrible fact had come to light, every body had some crime +to tell, which had been laid to the charge of the old couple. The people +who predict after an event, are numerous.</p> + +<p>The old couple were brought before the proper authorities, and privately +and separately examined. The old man persisted in his denial, most +pertinaciously; but his wife at length confessed, that, in concert with +her husband, she had once—a very long time ago—murdered a peddler, +whom they had met one night on the high-road, and who had been +incautious enough to tell them of a considerable sum of money which he +had about him, and whom, in consequence, they induced to pass the night +at their house. They had taken advantage of the heavy sleep induced by +fatigue, to strangle him; his body had been put into the chest, the +chest thrown into the well, and the well stopped up.</p> + +<p>The peddler being from another country, his disappearance had occasioned +no inquiry; there was no witness of the crime; and as its traces had +been carefully concealed from every eye, the two criminals had good +reason to believe themselves secure from detection. They had not, +however, been able to silence the voice of conscience; they fled from +the sight of their fellow-men; they trembled at the slightest noise, and +silence thrilled them with terror. They had often formed a determination +to leave the scene of their crime—to fly to some distant land; but +still some undefinable fascination kept them near the remains of their +victim.</p> + +<p>Terrified by the deposition of his wife, and unable to resist the +overwhelming proofs against him, the man at length made a similar +confession; and six weeks after, the unhappy criminals died on the +scaffold, in accordance with the sentence of the Parliament of Toulouse. +They died penitent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[Pg 524]</a></span></p> + +<p>The well was once more shut up, and the cottage leveled to the ground. +It was not, however, until fifty years had in some measure deadened the +memory of the terrible transaction, that the ground was cultivated. It +is now a fine field of corn.</p> + +<p>Such was the dream and its result.</p> + +<p>I never had the courage to revisit the town where I had been an actor in +such a tragedy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Summer_Pastime" id="Summer_Pastime"></a>[From the Dublin University Magazine.]</p> + +<h2>SUMMER PASTIME.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<p class="cap"> +<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Do</span> you ask how I’d amuse me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the long bright summer comes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And welcome leisure woos me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To shun life’s crowded homes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To shun the sultry city,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose dense, oppressive air<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might make one weep with pity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For those who must be there?<br /></span></p> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I’ll tell you then—I would not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To foreign countries roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though my fancy could not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Find occupance at home;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to home-haunts of fashion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would I, least of all, repair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For guilt, and pride, and passion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Have summer-quarters there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Far, far from watering-places<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of note and name I’d keep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For there would vapid faces<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Still throng me in my sleep;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then contact with the foolish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The arrogant, the vain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The meaningless—the mulish,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Would sicken heart and brain.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No—I’d seek some shore of ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where nothing comes to mar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ever-fresh commotion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of sea and land at war;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Save the gentle evening only<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As it steals along the deep,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So spirit-like and lonely,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To still the waves to sleep.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There long hours I’d spend in viewing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The elemental strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My soul the while subduing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With the littleness of life;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of life, with all its paltry plans,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Its conflicts and its cares—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The feebleness of all that’s man’s—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The might that’s God’s and theirs!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when eve came I’d listen<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To the stilling of that war,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till o’er my head should glisten<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The first pure silver star;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then, wandering homeward slowly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I’d learn my heart the tune<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which the dreaming billows lowly,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Were murmuring to the moon!<br /></span> +<span class="attrib">R.C.</span></div> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="The_Chemistry_Of_A_Candle" id="The_Chemistry_Of_A_Candle"></a>[From Dickens’s Household Words.]</p> + +<h2>THE CHEMISTRY OF A CANDLE.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> Wilkinsons were having a small party, it consisted of themselves and +Uncle Bagges, at which the younger members of the family, home for the +holidays, had been just admitted to assist after dinner. Uncle Bagges +was a gentleman from whom his affectionate relatives cherished +expectations of a testamentary nature. Hence the greatest attention was +paid by them to the wishes of Mr. Bagges, as well as to every +observation which he might be pleased to make.</p> + +<p>“Eh! what? you sir,” said Mr. Bagges, facetiously addressing himself to +his eldest nephew, Harry—“Eh! what? I am glad to hear, sir, that you +are doing well at school. Now—eh! now, are you clever enough to tell me +where was Moses when he put the candle out?”</p> + +<p>“That depends, uncle,” answered the young gentleman, “on whether he had +lighted the candle to see with at night, or by daylight to seal a +letter.”</p> + +<p>“Eh! very good, now! ’Pon my word, very good,” exclaimed Uncle Bagges. +“You must be Lord Chancellor, sir—Lord Chancellor, one of these days.”</p> + +<p>“And now, uncle,” asked Harry, who was a favorite with the old +gentleman, “can you tell me what you do when you put a candle out?”</p> + +<p>“Clap an extinguisher on it, you young rogue, to be sure.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! but I mean, you cut off its supply of oxygen,” said Master Harry.</p> + +<p>“Cut off its ox’s—eh? what? I shall cut off your nose, you young dog, +one of these fine days.”</p> + +<p>“He means something he heard at the Royal Institution,” observed Mrs. +Wilkinson. “He reads a great deal about chemistry, and he attended +Professor Faraday’s lectures there on the chemical history of a candle, +and has been full of it ever since.”</p> + +<p>“Now, you sir,” said Uncle Bagges, “come you here to me, and tell me +what you have to say about this chemical, eh? or comical; which? this +comical chemical history of a candle.”</p> + +<p>“He’ll bore you, Bagges,” said Mrs. Wilkinson. “Harry, don’t be +troublesome to your uncle.”</p> + +<p>“Troublesome! Oh, not at all. He amuses me. I like to hear him. So let +him teach his old uncle the comicality and chemicality of a farthing +rushlight.”</p> + +<p>“A wax candle will be nicer and cleaner, uncle, and answer the same +purpose. There’s one on the mantle-shelf. Let me light it.”</p> + +<p>“Take care you don’t burn your fingers, or set any thing on fire,” said +Mrs. Wilkinson.</p> + +<p>“Now, uncle,” commenced Harry, having drawn his chair to the side of Mr. +Bagges, “we have got our candle burning. What do you see?”</p> + +<p>“Let me put on my spectacles,” answered the uncle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span></p><p>“Look down on the top of the candle around the wick. See, it is a +little cup full of melted wax. The heat of the flame has melted the wax +just round the wick. The cold air keeps the outside of it hard, so as to +make the rim of it. The melted wax in the little cup goes up through the +wick to be burnt, just as oil does in the wick of a lamp. What do you +think makes it go up, uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Why—why, the flame draws it up, doesn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Not exactly, uncle. It goes up through little tiny passages in the +cotton wick, because very, very small channels, or pipes, or pores, have +the power in themselves of sucking up liquids. What they do it by is +called cap—something.”</p> + +<p>“Capillary attraction, Harry,” suggested Mr. Wilkinson.</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s it; just as a sponge sucks up water, or a bit of lump-sugar +the little drop of tea or coffee left in the bottom of a cup. But I +mustn’t say much more about this, or else you will tell me I am doing +something very much like teaching my grandmother to—you know what.”</p> + +<p>“Your grandmother, eh, young sharpshins?”</p> + +<p>“No—I mean my uncle. Now, I’ll blow the candle out, like Moses; not to +be in the dark, though, but to see into what it is. Look at the smoke +rising from the wick. I’ll hold a bit of lighted paper in the smoke, so +as not to touch the wick. But see, for all that, the candle lights +again. So this shows that the melted wax sucked up through the wick is +turned into vapor; and the vapor burns. The heat of the burning vapor +keeps on melting more wax, and that is sucked up too within the flame, +and turned into vapor, and burnt, and so on till the wax is all used up, +and the candle is gone. So the flame, uncle, you see is the last of the +candle, and the candle seems to go through the flame into +nothing—although it doesn’t, but goes into several things, and isn’t it +curious, as Professor Faraday said, that the candle should look so +splendid and glorious in going away.”</p> + +<p>“How well he remembers, doesn’t he?” observed Mrs. Wilkinson.</p> + +<p>“I dare say,” proceeded Harry, “that the flame of the candle looks flat +to you; but if we were to put a lamp glass over it, so as to shelter it +from the draught, you would see it is round, round sideways, and running +up to a peak. It is drawn up by the hot air; you know that hot air +always rises, and that is the way smoke is taken up the chimney. What +should you think was in the middle of the flame?”</p> + +<p>“I should say, fire,” replied Uncle Bagges.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! The flame is hollow. The bright flame we see is something no +thicker than a thin peel, or skin; and it doesn’t touch the wick. Inside +of it is the vapor I told you of just now. If you put one end of a bent +pipe into the middle of the flame, and let the other end of the pipe dip +into a bottle, the vapor or gas from the candle will mix with the air +there; and if you set fire to the mixture of gas from the candle and +air in the bottle, it would go off with a bang.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you’d do that, Harry,” said Master Tom, the younger brother of +the juvenile lecturer.</p> + +<p>“I want the proper things,” answered Harry. “Well, uncle, the flame of +the candle is a little shining case, with gas in the inside of it, and +air on the outside, so that the case of flame is between the air and the +gas. The gas keeps going into the flame to burn, and when the candle +burns properly, none of it ever passes out through the flame; and none +of the air ever gets in through the flame to the gas. The greatest heat +of the candle is in this skin, or peel, or case of flame.”</p> + +<p>“Case of flame!” repeated Mr. Bagges. “Live and learn. I should have +thought a candle flame was as thick as my poor old noddle.”</p> + +<p>“I can show you the contrary,” said Harry. “I take this piece of white +paper, look, and hold it a second or two down upon the candle flame, +keeping the flame very steady. Now I’ll rub off the black of the smoke, +and—there—you find that the paper is scorched in the shape of a ring; +but inside the ring it is only dirtied, and not singed at all.”</p> + +<p>“Seeing is believing,” remarked the uncle.</p> + +<p>“But,” proceeded Harry, “there is more in the candle flame than the gas +that comes out of the candle. You know a candle won’t burn without air. +There must be always air around the gas, and touching it like to make it +burn. If a candle hasn’t got enough air, it goes out, or burns badly, so +that some of the vapor inside of the flame comes out through it in the +form of smoke, and this is the reason of a candle smoking. So now you +know why a great clumsy dip smokes more than a neat wax candle; it is +because the thick wick of the dip makes too much fuel in proportion to +the air that can get to it.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me! Well, I suppose there is a reason for every thing,” exclaimed +the young philosopher’s mamma.</p> + +<p>“What should you say, now,” continued Harry, “if I told you that the +smoke that comes out of a candle is the very thing that makes a candle +light? Yes; a candle shines by consuming its own smoke. The smoke of a +candle is a cloud of small dust, and the little grains of the dust are +bits of charcoal, or carbon, as chemists call it. They are made in the +flame, and burned in the flame, and, while burning, make the flame +bright. They are burned the moment they are made; but the flame goes on +making more of them as fast as it burns them; and that is how it keeps +bright. The place they are made in, is in the case of flame itself, +where the strongest heat is. The great heat separates them from the gas +which comes from the melted wax, and, as soon as they touch the air on +the outside of the thin case of flame, they burn.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span></p><p>“Can you tell how it is that the little bits of carbon cause the +brightness of the flame?” asked Mr. Wilkinson.</p> + +<p>“Because they are pieces of solid matter,” answered Harry. “To make a +flame shine, there must always be some solid—or at least liquid—matter +in it.”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” said Mr. Bagges—“solid stuff necessary to brightness.”</p> + +<p>“Some gases and other things,” resumed Harry, “that burn with a flame +you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into +them. Oxygen and hydrogen—tell me if I use too hard words, +uncle—oxygen and hydrogen gases, if mixed together and blown through a +pipe, burn with plenty of heat but with very little light. But if their +flame is blown upon a piece of quick-lime, it gets so bright as to be +quite dazzling. Make the smoke of oil of turpentine pass through the +same flame, and it gives the flame a beautiful brightness directly.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder,” observed Uncle Bagges, “what has made you such a bright +youth.”</p> + +<p>“Taking after uncle, perhaps,” retorted his nephew. “Don’t put my candle +and me out. Well, carbon or charcoal is what causes the brightness of +all lamps, and candles, and other common lights; so, of course, there is +carbon in what they are all made of.”</p> + +<p>“So carbon is smoke, eh? and light is owing to your carbon. Giving light +out of smoke, eh? as they say in the classics,” observed Mr. Bagges.</p> + +<p>“But what becomes of the candle,” pursued Harry, “as it burns away? +where does it go?”</p> + +<p>“Nowhere,” said his mamma, “I should think. It burns to nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, no!” said Harry, “every thing—every body goes somewhere.”</p> + +<p>“Eh!—rather an important consideration that,” Mr. Bagges moralized.</p> + +<p>“You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing,” +pursued Harry. “There are other things it goes into, not to be seen by +only looking, but you can get to see them by taking the right +means—just put your hand over the candle, uncle.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, young gentleman, I had rather be excused.”</p> + +<p>“Not close enough down to burn you, uncle; higher up. There—you feel a +stream of hot air; so something seems to rise from the candle. Suppose +you were to put a very long, slender gas-burner over the flame, and let +the flame burn just within the end of it, as if it were a chimney, some +of the hot steam would go up and come out at the top, but a sort of dew +would be left behind in the glass chimney, if the chimney was cold +enough when you put it on. There are ways of collecting this sort of +dew, and when it is collected it turns out to be really water. I am not +joking, uncle. Water is one of the things which the candle turns into in +burning—water, coming out of fire. A jet of oil gives above a pint of +water in burning. In some lighthouses they burn, Professor Faraday says, +up to two gallons of oil in a night, and if the windows are cold, the +steam from the oil clouds the inside of the windows, and, in frosty +weather, freezes into ice.”</p> + +<p>“Water out of a candle, eh?” exclaimed Mr. Bagges. “As hard to get, I +should have thought, as blood out of a post. Where does it come from?”</p> + +<p>“Part from the wax, and part from the air, and yet not a drop of it +comes either from the air or the wax. What do you make of that, uncle?”</p> + +<p>“Eh? Oh! I’m no hand at riddles. Give it up.”</p> + +<p>“No riddle at all, uncle. The part that comes from the wax isn’t water, +and the part that comes from the air isn’t water, but when put together +they become water. Water is a mixture of two things, then. This can be +shown. Put some iron wire or turnings into a gun-barrel open at both +ends. Heat the middle of the barrel red-hot in a little furnace. Keep +the heat up, and send the steam of boiling water through the red-hot +gun-barrel. What will come out at the other end of the barrel won’t be +steam; it will be gas, which doesn’t turn to water again when it gets +cold, and which burns if you put a light to it. Take the turnings out of +the gun-barrel, and you will find them changed to rust, and heavier than +when they were put in. Part of the water is the gas that comes out of +the barrel, the other part is what mixes with the iron turnings, and +changes them to rust, and makes them heavier. You can fill a bladder +with the gas that comes out of the gun-barrel, or you can pass bubbles +of it up into a jar of water turned upside down in a trough, and, as I +said, you can make this part of the water burn.”</p> + +<p>“Eh?” cried Mr. Bagges. “Upon my word. One of these days, we shall have +you setting the Thames on fire.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing more easy,” said Harry, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span>“than to burn part of the Thames, or +any other water; I mean the gas that I have just told you about, which +is called hydrogen. In burning, hydrogen produces water again, like the +flame of the candle. Indeed, hydrogen is that part of the water, formed +by a candle burning, that comes from the wax. All things that have +hydrogen in them produce water in burning, and the more there is in +them, the more they produce. When pure hydrogen burns, nothing comes +from it but water, no smoke or soot at all. If you were to burn one +ounce of it, the water you would get would be just nine ounces. There +are many ways of making hydrogen, besides out of steam by the hot +gun-barrel. I could show it you in a moment by pouring a little +sulphuric acid mixed with water into a bottle upon a few zinc or steel +filings, and putting a cork in the bottle with a little pipe through it, +and setting fire to the gas that would come from the mouth of the pipe. +We should find the flame very hot, but having scarcely any brightness. I +should like you to see the curious qualities of hydrogen, particularly +how light it is, so as to carry things up in the air; and I wish I had +a small balloon to fill with it and make go up to the ceiling, or a +bag-pipe full of it to blow soap-bubbles with, and show how much faster +they rise than common ones, blown with the breath.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” interposed Master Tom.</p> + +<p>“And so,” resumed Harry, “hydrogen, you know, uncle, is part of water, +and just one-ninth part.”</p> + +<p>“As hydrogen is to water, so is a tailor to an ordinary individual, eh?” +Mr. Bagges remarked.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, then, uncle, if hydrogen is the tailor’s part of the water, +what are the other eight parts? The iron-turnings used to make hydrogen +in the gun-barrel, and rusted, take just those eight parts from the +water in the shape of steam, and are so much the heavier. Burn iron +turnings in the air, and they make the same rust, and gain just the same +in weight. So the other eight parts must be found in the air for one +thing, and in the rusted iron turnings for another, and they must also +be in the water; and now the question is, how to get at them?”</p> + +<p>“Out of the water? Fish for them, I should say,” suggested Mr. Bagges.</p> + +<p>“Why, so we can,” said Harry. “Only instead of hooks and lines, we must +use wires—two wires, one from one end, the other from the other, of a +galvanic battery. Put the points of these wires into water, a little +distance apart, and they instantly take the water to pieces. If they are +of copper, or a metal that will rust easily, one of them begins to rust, +and air-bubbles come up from the other. These bubbles are hydrogen. The +other part of the water mixes with the end of the wire and makes rust. +But if the wires are of gold, or a metal that does not rust easily, +air-bubbles rise from the ends of both wires. Collect the bubbles from +both wires in a tube, and fire them, and they turn to water again; and +this water is exactly the same weight as the quantity that has been +changed into the two gases. Now, then, uncle, what should you think +water was composed of?”</p> + +<p>“Eh? well—I suppose of those very identical two gases, young +gentleman.”</p> + +<p>“Right, uncle. Recollect that the gas from one of the wires was +hydrogen, the one-ninth of water. What should you guess the gas from the +other wire to be?”</p> + +<p>“Stop—eh?—wait a bit—eh—oh!—why, the other eight-ninths, to be +sure.”</p> + +<p>“Good again, uncle. Now this gas that is eight-ninths of water is the +gas called oxygen that I mentioned just now. This is a very curious gas. +It won’t burn in air at all itself, like gas from a lamp, but it has a +wonderful power of making things burn that are lighted and put into it. +If you fill a jar with it—”</p> + +<p>“How do you manage that?” Mr. Bagges inquired.</p> + +<p>“You fill the jar with water,” answered Harry, “and you stand it upside +down in a vessel full of water too. Then you let bubbles of the gas up +into the jar, and they turn out the water and take its place. Put a +stopper in the neck of the jar, or hold a glass plate against the mouth +of it, and you can take it out of the water, and so have bottled oxygen. +A lighted candle put into a jar of oxygen blazes up directly and is +consumed before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.’ Charcoal burns away in it +as fast, with beautiful bright sparks—phosphorus with a light that +dazzles you to look at—and a piece of iron or steel just made red-hot +at the end first, is burnt in oxygen quicker than a stick would be in +common air. The experiment of burning things in oxygen beats any +fire-works.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, how jolly!” exclaimed Tom.</p> + +<p>“Now we see, uncle,” Harry continued, “that water is hydrogen and oxygen +united together, that water is got wherever hydrogen is burnt in common +air, that a candle won’t burn without air, and that when a candle burns +there is hydrogen in it burning, and forming water. Now, then, where +does the hydrogen of the candle get the oxygen from, to turn into water +with it?”</p> + +<p>“From the air, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Just so. I can’t stop to tell you of the other things which there is +oxygen in, and the many beautiful and amusing ways of getting it. But as +there is oxygen in the air, and as oxygen makes things burn at such a +rate, perhaps you wonder why air does not make things burn as fast as +oxygen. The reason is, that there is something else in the air that +mixes with the oxygen and weakens it.”</p> + +<p>“Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?” said Mr. Bagges. “But how is +that proved?”</p> + +<p>“Why, there is a gas, called nitrous gas, which, if you mix it with +oxygen, takes all the oxygen into itself, and the mixture of the nitrous +gas and oxygen, if you put water with it, goes into the water. Mix +nitrous gas and air together in a jar over water, and the nitrous gas +takes away the oxygen, and then the water sucks up the mixed oxygen and +nitrous gas, and that part of the air which weakens the oxygen is left +behind. Burning phosphorus in confined air will also take all the oxygen +from it, and there are other ways of doing the same thing. The portion +of air left behind is called nitrogen. You wouldn’t know it from common +air by the look; it has no color, taste, nor smell, and it won’t burn. +But things won’t burn in it either; and any thing on fire put into it +goes out directly. It isn’t fit to breathe; and a mouse, or any animal, +shut up in it dies. It isn’t poisonous, though; creatures only die in it +for want of oxygen. We breathe it with oxygen, and then it does no harm, +but good; for if we breathe pure oxygen, we should breathe away so +violently, that we should soon breathe our life out. In the same way, if +the air were nothing but oxygen, a candle would not last above a minute.”</p> + +<p>“What a tallow-chandler’s bill we should have!” remarked Mrs. Wilkinson.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[Pg 528]</a></span></p><p>“‘If a house were on fire in oxygen,’ as Professor Faraday said, ‘every +iron bar, or rafter, or pillar, every nail and iron tool, and the +fire-place itself; all the zinc and copper roofs, and leaden coverings, +and gutters, and; pipes, would consume and burn, increasing the +combustion.’”</p> + +<p>“That would be, indeed, burning ‘like a house on fire,’” observed Mr. +Bagges.</p> + +<p>“‘Think,’” said Harry, continuing his quotation, “‘of the Houses of +Parliament, or a steam-engine manufactory. Think of an iron-proof +chest—no proof against oxygen. Think of a locomotive and its +train—every engine, every carriage, and even every rail would be set on +fire and burnt up.’ So now, uncle, I think you see what the use of +nitrogen is, and especially how it prevents a candle from burning out +too fast.”</p> + +<p>“Eh?” said Mr. Bagges. “Well, I will say I do think we are under +considerable obligations to nitrogen.”</p> + +<p>“I have explained to you, uncle,” pursued Harry, “how a candle, in +burning, turns into water. But it turns into something else besides +that; there is a stream of hot air going up from it that won’t condense +into dew; some of that is the nitrogen of the air which the candle has +taken all the oxygen from. But there is more in it than nitrogen. Hold a +long glass tube over a candle, so that the stream of hot air from it may +go up through the tube. Hold a jar over the end of the tube to collect +some of the stream of hot air. Put some lime-water, which looks quite +clear, into the jar; stop the jar, and shake it up. The lime-water, +which was quite clear before, turns milky. Then there is something made +by the burning of the candle that changes the color of the lime-water. +That is a gas, too, and you can collect it, and examine it. It is to be +got from several things, and is a part of all chalk, marble, and the +shells of eggs or of shell-fish. The easiest way to make it is by +pouring muriatic or sulphuric acid on chalk or marble. The marble or +chalk begins to hiss or bubble, and you can collect the bubbles in the +same way that you can oxygen. The gas made by the candle in burning, and +which also is got out of the chalk and marble, is called carbonic acid. +It puts out a light in a moment; it kills any animal that breathes it, +and it is really poisonous to breathe, because it destroys life even +when mixed with a pretty large quantity of common air. The bubbles made +by beer when it ferments, are carbonic acid, so is the air that fizzes +out of soda-water—and it is good to swallow though it is deadly to +breathe. It is got from chalk by burning the chalk as well as by putting +acid to it, and burning the carbonic acid out of chalk makes the chalk +lime. This is why people are killed sometimes by getting in the way of +the wind that blows from lime-kilns.”</p> + +<p>“Of which it is advisable carefully to keep to the windward,” Mr. +Wilkinson observed.</p> + +<p>“The most curious thing about carbonic acid gas,” proceeded Harry, “is +its weight. Although it is only a sort of air, it is so heavy that you +can pour it from one vessel into another. You may dip a cup of it and +pour it down upon a candle, and it will put the candle out, which would +astonish an ignorant person; because carbonic acid gas is as invisible +as the air, and the candle seems to be put out by nothing. A soap-bubble +of common air floats on it like wood on water. Its weight is what makes +it collect in brewers’ vats; and also in wells, where it is produced +naturally; and owing to its collecting in such places it causes the +deaths we so often hear about of those who go down into them without +proper care. It is found in many springs of water, more or less; and a +great deal of it comes out of the earth in some places. Carbonic acid +gas is what stupefies the dogs in the Grotto del Cane. Well, but how is +carbonic acid gas made by the candle?”</p> + +<p>“I hope with your candle you’ll throw some light upon the subject,” said +Uncle Bagges.</p> + +<p>“I hope so,” answered Harry. “Recollect it is the burning of the smoke, +or soot, or carbon of the candle that makes the candle-flame bright. +Also that the candle won’t burn without air. Likewise that it will not +burn in nitrogen, or air that has been deprived of oxygen. So the carbon +of the candle mingles with oxygen, in burning, to make carbonic acid +gas, just as the hydrogen does to form water. Carbonic acid gas, then, +is carbon or charcoal dissolved in oxygen. Here is black soot getting +invisible and changing into air; and this seems strange, uncle, doesn’t +it?”</p> + +<p>“Ahem! Strange, if true,” answered Mr. Bagges. “Eh? well! I suppose it’s +all right.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so, uncle. Burn carbon or charcoal either in the air or in +oxygen, and it is sure always to make carbonic acid, and nothing else, +if it is dry. No dew or mist gathers in a cold glass jar if you burn dry +charcoal in it. The charcoal goes entirely into carbonic acid gas, and +leaves nothing behind but ashes, which are only earthy stuff that was in +the charcoal, but not part of the charcoal itself. And now, shall I tell +you something about carbon?”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart,” assented Mr. Bagges.</p> + +<p>“I said that there was carbon or charcoal in all common lights—so there +is in every common kind of fuel. If you heat coal or wood away from the +air, some gas comes away, and leaves behind coke from coal, and charcoal +from wood; both carbon, though not pure. Heat carbon as much as you will +in a close vessel, and it does not change in the least; but let the air +get to it, and then it burns and flies off in carbonic acid gas. This +makes carbon so convenient for fuel. But it is ornamental as well as +useful, uncle The diamond is nothing else than carbon.”</p> + +<p>“The diamond, eh? You mean the black diamond.”</p> + +<p>“No; the diamond, really and truly. The diamond is only carbon in the +shape of a crystal.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span></p><p>“Eh? and can’t some of your clever chemists crystallize a little bit of +carbon, and make a Koh-i-noor?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, uncle, perhaps we shall, some day. In the mean time, I suppose, we +must be content with making carbon so brilliant as it is in the flame of +a candle. Well; now you see that a candle-flame is vapor burning, and +the vapor, in burning, turns into water and carbonic acid gas. The +oxygen of both the carbonic acid gas and the water comes from the air, +and the hydrogen and carbon together are the vapor. They are distilled +out of the melted wax by the heat. But, you know, carbon alone can’t be +distilled by any heat. It can be distilled, though, when it is joined +with hydrogen, as it is in the wax, and then the mixed hydrogen and +carbon rise in gas of the same kind as the gas in the streets, and that +also is distilled by heat from coal. So a candle is a little gas +manufactory in itself, that burns the gas as fast as it makes it.”</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you pretty nearly come to your candle’s end?” said Mr. +Wilkinson.</p> + +<p>“Nearly. I only want to tell uncle, that the burning of a candle is +almost exactly like our breathing. Breathing is consuming oxygen, only +not so fast as burning. In breathing we throw out water in vapor and +carbonic acid from our lungs, and take oxygen in. Oxygen is as necessary +to support the life of the body, as it is to keep up the flame of a +candle.”</p> + +<p>“So,” said Mr. Bagges, “man is a candle, eh? and Shakspeare knew that, I +suppose (as he did most things), when he wrote</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“‘Out, out, brief candle!’<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>“Well, well; we old ones are moulds, and you young squires are dips and +rushlights, eh? Any more to tell us about the candle?”</p> + +<p>“I could tell you a great deal more about oxygen, and hydrogen, and +carbon, and water, and breathing, that Professor Faraday said, if I had +time; but you should go and hear him yourself, uncle.”</p> + +<p>“Eh? well! I think I will. Some of us seniors may learn something from a +juvenile lecture, at any rate, if given by a Faraday. And now, my boy, I +will tell you what,” added Mr. Bagges, “I am very glad to find you so +fond of study and science: and you deserve to be encouraged: and so I’ll +give you a what-d’ye-call-it? a Galvanic Battery on your next birth-day; +and so much for your teaching your old uncle the chemistry of a candle.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MYSTERIOUS_COMPACT" id="THE_MYSTERIOUS_COMPACT"></a>THE MYSTERIOUS COMPACT.</h2> + +<h3>A FREE TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN.</h3> + +<h3>IN TWO PARTS.—PART I.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">In</span> the latter years of the last century, two youths, Ferdinand von +Hallberg, and Edward von Wensleben were receiving their education in the +military academy of Marienvheim. Among their schoolfellows they were +called Orestes and Pylades, or Damon and Pythias, on account of their +tender friendship, which constantly recalled to their schoolfellows’ +minds the history of these ancient worthies. Both were sons of +officers, who had long served the state with honor, both were destined +for their father’s profession, both accomplished and endowed by nature +with no mean talents. But fortune had not been so impartial in the +distribution of her favors—Hallberg’s father lived on a small pension, +by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son’s schooling at the +cost of the government; while Wensleben’s parents willingly paid the +handsomest salary in order to insure to their only child the best +education which the establishment afforded. This disparity in +circumstances at first produced a species of proud reserve, amounting to +coldness, in Ferdinand’s deportment, which yielded by degrees to the +cordial affection that Edward manifested toward him on every occasion. +Two years older than Edward, of a thoughtful and almost melancholy turn +of mind, Ferdinand soon gained a considerable influence over his weaker +friend, who clung to him with almost girlish dependence.</p> + +<p>Their companionship had now lasted with satisfaction and happiness to +both, for several years, and the youths had formed for themselves the +most delightful plans—how they were never to separate, how they were to +enter the service in the same regiment, and if a war broke out, how they +were to fight side by side and conquer, or die together. But destiny, or +rather Providence, whose plans are usually opposed to the designs of +mortals, had ordained otherwise for the friends than they anticipated.</p> + +<p>Earlier than was expected, Hallberg’s father found an opportunity to +have his son appointed to an infantry regiment, and he was ordered +immediately to join the staff in a small provincial town, in an +out-of-the-way mountainous district. This announcement fell like a +thunder-bolt on the two friends; but Ferdinand considered himself by far +the more unhappy, since it was ordained that he should be the one to +sever the happy bond that bound them, and to inflict a deep wound on his +loved companion. His schoolfellows vainly endeavored to console him by +calling his attention to his new commission, and the preference which +had been shown him above so many others. He only thought of the +approaching separation; he only saw his friend’s grief, and passed the +few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward’s +side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand’s society with jealous +care, and could not bear to lose sight of him for an instant. In one of +their most melancholy hours, excited by sorrow and youthful enthusiasm, +they bound themselves by a mysterious vow, namely, that the one whom God +should think fit to call first from this world should bind himself (if +conformable to the Divine will) to give some sign of his remembrance and +affection to the survivor.</p> + +<p>The place where this vow was made was a solitary spot in the garden, by +a monument of gray marble, overshadowed by dark firs, which the former +director of the institution had caused to be erected to the memory of +his son, whose premature death was recorded on the stone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[Pg 530]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here the friends met at night, and by the fitful light of the moon they +pledged themselves to the rash and fanciful contract, and confirmed and +consecrated it the next morning, by a religious ceremony. After this +they were able to look the approaching separation in the face more +manfully, and Edward strove hard to quell the melancholy feeling which +had lately arisen in his mind on account of the constant foreboding that +Ferdinand expressed of his own early death. “No,” thought Edward, “his +pensive turn of mind and his wild imagination cause him to reproach +himself without a cause for my sorrow and his own departure. Oh, no, +Ferdinand will not die early—he will not die before me. Providence will +not leave me alone in the world.”</p> + +<p>The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for after Ferdinand’s +departure, the house, the world itself, seemed a desert; and absorbed by +his own memories, he now recalled to mind many a dark speech which had +fallen from his absent friend, particularly in the latter days of their +intercourse, and which betokened but too plainly a presentiment of early +death. But time and youth exercised, even over these sorrows, their +irresistible influence. Edward’s spirits gradually recovered their tone; +and as the traveler always has the advantage over the one who remains +behind, in respect of new objects to occupy his mind, so was Ferdinand +even sooner calmed and cheered, and by degrees he became engrossed by +his new duties, and new acquaintances, not to the exclusion, indeed, of +his friend’s memory, but greatly to the alleviation of his own sorrow. +It was natural, in such circumstances, that the young officer should +console himself sooner than poor Edward. The country in which Hallberg +found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and +peculiarities of “far off” districts—simple, hospitable manners, +old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the +credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean toward the marvelous, +and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings.</p> + +<p>Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with +several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens +in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country +houses in the neighborhood; and the well-mannered, handsome, and +agreeable youth was welcomed every where. The simple, patriarchal life +in these old mansions and castles—the cordiality of the people, the +wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were +entirely to Hallberg’s taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode +of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before +half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered +to another station, and he had to part with many friends. The first +letter which he wrote after this change, bore the impression of +impatience at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward found this natural +enough; but he was surprised in the following letters to detect signs +of a disturbed and desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his +friend’s nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand’s heart was +touched for the first time, and, perhaps, because the impression had +been made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable circumstances opposed +themselves to his hopes: the young lady was of an ancient family, rich, +and betrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was expected +shortly to arrive in order to claim her promised hand. Notwithstanding +this engagement, Ferdinand and the young girl had become sincerely +attached to each other, and had both resolved to dare every thing with +the hope of being united. They pledged their troth in secret; the +darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections; +and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects. +Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not intrust his +whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to +travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible +from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in +question. “You know that I love,” he wrote, “therefore you know that the +object of my secret passion is worthy of any sacrifice; for you know +your friend too well to believe him capable of any blind infatuation, +and this must suffice for the present. No one must suspect what we are +to each other; no one here or round the neighborhood must have the +slightest clew to our plans. An awful personage will soon make his +appearance among us. His violent temper, his inveterate obstinacy +(according to all that one hears, of him), are well calculated to +confirm in <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">her</span> a well-founded aversion. But family arrangements and +legal contracts exist, the fulfillment of which the opposing party are +bent on enforcing. The struggle will be hard, perhaps unsuccessful; +notwithstanding, I will strain every nerve. Should I fall, you must +console yourself, my dear Edward, with the thought, that it will be no +misfortune to your friend to be deprived of an existence rendered +miserable by the failure of his dearest hopes, and separation from his +dearest friend. Then may all the happiness which heaven has denied me be +vouchsafed to you and her, so that my spirit may look down contentedly +from the realms of light, and bless and protect you both.”</p> + +<p>Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during +that period. His heart was full of anxiety—he read danger and distress +in the mysterious communications of Ferdinand; and every argument that +affection and good sense could suggest aid he make use of, in his +replies, to turn his friend from this path of peril which threatened to +end in a deep abyss. He tried persuasion, and urged him to desist for +the sake of their long-tried affection. But when did passion ever listen +to the expostulations of friendship?</p> + +<p>Ferdinand only saw one aim in life—the possession of the beloved one. +All else faded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[Pg 531]</a></span> from before his eyes, and even his correspondence +slackened; for his time, was much taken up in secret excursions, +arrangements of all kinds, and communications with all manner of +persons; in fact every action of his present life tended to the +furtherance of his plan.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden his letters ceased. Many posts passed without a sign of +life. Edward was a prey to the greatest anxiety; he thought his friend +had staked and lost. He imagined an elopement, a clandestine marriage, a +duel with a rival, and all these casualties were the more painful to +conjecture, since his entire ignorance of the real state of things gave +his fancy full range to conjure up all sorts of misfortunes. At length, +after many more posts had come in without a line to pacify Edward’s +fears, without a word in reply to his earnest entreaties for some news, +he determined on taking a step which he had meditated before, and only +relinquished out of consideration for his friend’s wishes. He wrote to +the officer commanding the regiment, and made inquiries respecting the +health and abode of Lieutenant von Hallberg, whose friends in the +capital had remained for nearly two months without news of him, he who +had hitherto proved a regular and frequent correspondent.</p> + +<p>Another fortnight dragged heavily on, and at length the announcement +came in an official form. Lieutenant von Hallberg had been invited to +the castle of a nobleman whom he was in the custom of visiting, in order +to be present at the wedding of a lady; that he was indisposed at the +time, that he grew worse, and on the third morning had been found dead +in his bed, having expired during the night from an attack of apoplexy.</p> + +<p>Edward could not finish the letter, it fell from his trembling hand. To +see his worst fears realized so suddenly, overwhelmed him at first. His +youth withstood the bodily illness which would have assailed a weaker +constitution, and perhaps mitigated the anguish of his grief. He was not +dangerously, ill, but they feared many days for his reason; and it +required all the kind solicitude of the director of the college, +combined with the most skillful medical aid, to stem the torrent of his +sorrow, and to turn it gradually into a calmer channel, until by degrees +the mourner recovered both health and reason. His youthful spirits, +however, had received a blow from which they never rebounded, and one +thought lay heavy on his mind which he was unwilling to share with any +other person, and which, on that account, grew more and more painful. It +was the memory of that holy promise which had been mutually contracted, +that the survivor was to receive some token of his friend’s remembrance +of him after death. Now two months had already passed since Ferdinand’s +earthly career had been arrested, his spirit was free, why no sign? In +the moment of death Edward had had no intimation, no message from the +passing spirit, and this apparent neglect, so to speak, was another deep +wound in Edward’s breast. Do the affections cease with life? Was it +contrary to the will of the Almighty that the mourner should taste this +consolation? Did individuality lose itself in death and with it memory? +Or did one stroke destroy spirit and body? These anxious doubts, which +have before now agitated many who reflect on such subjects, exercised +their power over Edward’s mind with an intensity that none can imagine +save one whose position is in any degree similar.</p> + +<p>Time gradually deadened the intensity of his affliction. The violent +paroxysms of grief subsided into a deep but calm regret; it was as if a +mist had spread itself over every object which presented itself before +him, robbing them indeed of half their charms, yet leaving them visible, +and in their real relation to himself. During this mental change, the +autumn arrived, and with it the long-expected commission. It did not +indeed occasion the joy which it might have done in former days, when it +would have led to a meeting with Ferdinand, or at all events to a better +chance of meeting, but it released him from the thralldom of college, +and it opened to him a welcome sphere of activity. Now it so happened +that his appointment led him accidentally into the very neighborhood +where Ferdinand had formerly resided, only with this difference, that +Edward’s squadron was quartered in the lowlands, about a short day’s +journey from the town and woodland environs in question.</p> + +<p>He proceeded to his quarters, and found an agreeable occupation in the +exercise of his new duties.</p> + +<p>He had no wish to make acquaintances, yet he did not refuse the +invitations that were pressed upon him, lest he should be accused of +eccentricity and rudeness; and so he found himself soon entangled in all +sorts of engagements with the neighboring gentry and nobility. If these +so-called gayeties gave him no particular pleasure, at least for the +time they diverted his thoughts; and, with this view, he accepted an +invitation (for the new year and carnival were near at hand) to a great +shooting-match which was to be held in the mountains—a spot which it +was possible to reach in one day with favorable weather and the roads in +a good state. The day was appointed, the air tolerably clear; a mild +frost had made the roads safe and even, and Edward had every expectation +of being able to reach Blumenberg in his sledge before night, as on the +following morning the match was to take place. But as soon as he got +near the mountains, where the sun retires so early to rest, snow-clouds +drove from all quarters, a cutting wind came roaring through the +ravines, and a heavy fall of snow began. Twice the driver lost his way, +and daylight was gone before he had well recovered it; darkness came on +sooner than in other places, walled in as they were by dark mountains, +with dark clouds above their heads. It was out of the question to dream +of reaching Blumenberg that night; but in this hospitable land, where +every house-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[Pg 532]</a></span>holder welcomes the passing traveler, Edward was under no +anxiety as to shelter. He only wished, before the night quite set in, to +reach some country house or castle; and now that the storm had abated in +some degree, that the heavens were a little clearer, and that a few +stars peeped out, a large valley opened before them, whose bold outline +Edward could distinguish, even in the uncertain light. The well-defined +roofs of a neat village were perceptible, and behind these, half-way up +the mountain that crowned the plain, Edward thought he could discern a +large building which glimmered with more than one light. The road led +straight into the village. Edward stopped and inquired.</p> + +<p>That building was, indeed, a castle; the village belonged to it, and +both were the property of the Baron Friedenberg. “Friedenberg!” repeated +Edward: the name sounded familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind +when and where he had heard it. He inquired if the family were at home, +hired a guide, and arrived at length, by a rugged path which wound +itself round steep rocks, to the summit of them, and finally to the +castle, which was perched there like an eagle’s nest. The tinkling of +the bells on Edward’s sledge attracted the attention of the inmates; the +door was opened with prompt hospitality—servants appeared with torches; +Edward was assisted to emerge from under the frozen apron of his +carriage, out of his heavy pelisse, stiff with hoar frost, and up a +comfortable staircase into a long saloon of simple construction, where a +genial warmth appeared to welcome him from a spacious stove in the +corner. The servants here placed two large burning candles in massive +silver sconces, and went out to announce the stranger.</p> + +<p>The fitting-up of the room, or rather saloon, was perfectly simple. +Family portraits, in heavy frames, hung round the walls, diversified by +some maps. Magnificent stags’ horns were arranged between; and the taste +of the master of the house was easily detected in the hunting-knives, +powder-flasks, carbines, smoking-bags, and sportsmen’s pouches, which +were arranged, not without taste, as trophies of the chase. The ceiling +was supported by large beams, dingy with smoke and age; and on the sides +of the room were long benches, covered and padded with dark cloth, and +studded with large brass nails; while round the dinner-table were placed +several arm-chairs, also of an ancient date. All bore the aspect of the +“good old times,” of a simple patriarchal life with affluence. Edward +felt as if there were a kind welcome in the inanimate objects which +surrounded him, when the inner door opened, and the master of the house +entered, preceded by a servant, and welcomed his guest with courteous +cordiality.</p> + +<p>Some apologies which Edward offered on account of his intrusion, were +silenced in a moment.</p> + +<p>“Come, now, lieutenant,” said the baron, “I must introduce you to my +family. You are no such a stranger to us, as you fancy.”</p> + +<p>With these words he took Edward by the arm, and, lighted by the servant, +they passed through several lofty rooms, which were very handsomely +furnished, although in an old-fashioned style, with faded Flemish +carpets, large chandeliers, and high-backed chairs: everything in +keeping with what the youth had already seen in the castle. Here were +the ladies of the house. At the other end of the room, by the side of an +immense stove, ornamented with a large shield of the family arms, richly +emblazoned, and crowned by a gigantic Turk, in a most comfortable +attitude of repose sat the lady of the house, an elderly matron of +tolerable circumference, in a gown of dark red satin, with a black +mantle, and a snow-white lace cap. She appeared to be playing cards with +the chaplain, who sat opposite to her at the table, and the Baron +Friedenberg to have made the third hand at ombre, till he was called +away to welcome his guest. On the other side of the room were two young +ladies, an elder person, who might be a governess, and a couple of +children, very much engrossed by a game at loto.</p> + +<p>As Edward entered, the ladies rose to greet him; a chair was placed for +him near the mistress of the house, and very soon a cup of chocolate and +a bottle of tokay were served on a rich silver salver, to restore the +traveler after the cold and discomfort of his drive; in fact it was easy +for him to feel that these “far-away” people were by no means displeased +at his arrival. An agreeable conversation soon began among all parties. +His travels, the shooting match, the neighborhood, agriculture, all +afforded subjects, and in a quarter of an hour Edward felt as if he had +long been domesticated with these simple but truly well informed people.</p> + +<p>Two hours flew swiftly by, and then a bell sounded for supper; the +servants returned with lights, announced that the supper was on the +table, and lighted the company into the dining-room—the same into which +Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other +characters appeared on the scene—the agent, a couple of subalterns, and +the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward’s +place was between the baron and his wife. The chaplain said a short +grace, when the baroness, with an uneasy look, glanced at her husband +over Edward’s shoulder, and said, in a low whisper,</p> + +<p>“My love, we are thirteen—that will never do.”</p> + +<p>The baron smiled, beckoned to the youngest of the clerks, and whispered +to him. The youth bowed, and withdrew. The servant took the cover away, +and served his supper in the next room.</p> + +<p>“My wife,” said Friedenberg, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span>“is superstitious, as all mountaineers are. +She thinks it unlucky to dine thirteen. It certainly has happened twice +(whether from chance or not who can tell?) that we have had to mourn the +death of an acquaintance who had, a short time before, made the +thirteenth at our table.”</p> + +<p>“This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the +capital who think with the baroness,” said Edward. “Although in a town +such ideas, which belong more especially to the olden time, are more +likely to be lost in the whirl and bustle which usually silences every +thing that is not essentially matter of fact.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, lieutenant,” replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, “we +keep up old customs better in the mountains. You see that by our +furniture. People in the capital would call this sadly old-fashioned.”</p> + +<p>“That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date,” +rejoined Edward, courteously; “and here, if I mistake not, presides a +spirit that is ever striving after both. I must confess, baron, that +when I first entered your house, it was this very aspect of the olden +time that enchanted me beyond measure.”</p> + +<p>“That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled +mind,” answered Friedenberg; “but townspeople have seldom a taste for +such things.”</p> + +<p>“I was partly educated on my father’s estate,” said Edward, “which was +situated in the Highlands; and it appeared to me as if, when I entered +your house, I were visiting a neighbor of my father’s, for the general +aspect is quite the same here as with us.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the chaplain, “mountainous districts have all a family +likeness: the same necessities, the same struggles with nature, the same +seclusion, all produce the same way of life among mountaineers.”</p> + +<p>“On that account the prejudice against the number thirteen was +especially familiar to me,” replied Edward. “We also dislike it; and we +retain a consideration for many supernatural, or at least inexplicable +things, which I have met with again in this neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, here, almost more than any where else,” continued the chaplain. “I +think we excel all other mountaineers in the number and variety of our +legends and ghost stories. I assure you that there is not a cave, or a +church, or, above all, a castle, for miles round about, of which we +could not relate something supernatural.”</p> + +<p>The baroness, who perceived the turn which the conversation was likely +to take, thought it better to send the children to bed; and when they +were gone, the priest continued, “Even here, in this castle—”</p> + +<p>“Here!” inquired Edward, “in this very castle?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, lieutenant!” interposed the baron, “this house has the +reputation of being haunted; and the most extraordinary thing is, that +the matter can not be denied by the skeptical, or accounted for by the +reasonable.”</p> + +<p>“And yet,” said Edward, “the castle looks so cheerful, so habitable.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, this part which we live in,” answered the baron; “but it consists +of only a few apartments sufficient for my family and these gentlemen; +the other portion of the building is half in ruins, and dates from the +period when men established themselves on the mountains for greater +safety.”</p> + +<p>“There are some who maintain,” said the physician, “that a part of the +walls of the eastern tower itself are of Roman origin; but that would +surely be difficult to prove.”</p> + +<p>“But, gentlemen,” observed the baroness, “you are losing yourselves in +learned descriptions as to the erection of the castle, and our guest is +kept in ignorance of what he is anxious to hear.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, madam,” replied the chaplain, “this is not entirely foreign to +the subject, since in the most ancient part of the building lies the +chamber in question.”</p> + +<p>“Where apparitions have been seen?” inquired Edward, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Not exactly,” replied the baroness; “there is nothing fearful to be +seen.”</p> + +<p>“Come, let us tell him at once,” interrupted the baron. “The fact is, +that every guest who sleeps for the first time in this room (and it has +fallen to the lot of many, in turn, to do so), is visited by some +important, significant dream or vision, or whatever I ought to call it, +in which some future event is prefigured to him, or some past mystery +cleared up, which he had vainly striven to comprehend before.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” interposed Edward, “it must be something like what is known in +the Highlands under the name of second sight, a privilege, as some +consider it, which several persons and several families enjoy.”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” said the physician, “the cases are very similar; yet the most +mysterious part of this affair is, that it does not appear to originate +with the individual, or his organization, or his sympathy with beings of +the invisible world; no, the individual has nothing to say to it—the +locality does it all. Every one who sleeps in that room has his +mysterious dream, and the result proves its truth.”</p> + +<p>“At least in most instances,” continued the baron, “when we have had an +opportunity of hearing the cases confirmed. I remember once in +particular. You may recollect, lieutenant, that when you first came in I +had the honor of telling you, you were not quite a stranger to me.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, baron; and I have been wishing for a long time to ask an +explanation of these words.”</p> + +<p>“We have often heard your name mentioned by a particular friend of +yours—one who could never, pronounce it without emotion.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” cried Edward, who now saw clearly why the baron’s name had sounded +familiar to him also; “ah! you speak of my friend Hallberg; truly do you +say, we were indeed dear to each other.”</p> + +<p>“Were!” echoed the baron, in a faltering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[Pg 534]</a></span> tone, as he observed the +sudden change in Edward’s voice and countenance; “can the blooming, +vigorous youth be—”</p> + +<p>“Dead!” exclaimed Edward; and the baron deeply regretted that he had +touched so tender a chord, as he saw the young officer’s eyes fill with +tears, and a dark cloud pass over his animated features.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me,” he continued, while he leaned forward and pressed his +companion’s hand; “I grieve that a thoughtless word should have awakened +such deep sorrow. I had no idea of his death; we all loved the handsome +young man, and by his description of you were already much interested in +you before we had ever seen you.”</p> + +<p>The conversation now turned entirely on Hallberg. Edward related the +particulars of his death. Every one present had something to say in his +praise; and although this sudden allusion to his dearest friend had +agitated Edward in no slight degree, yet it was a consolation to him to +listen to the tribute these worthy people paid to the memory of +Ferdinand, and to see how genuine was their regret at the tidings of his +early death. The time passed swiftly away in conversation of much +interest, and the whole, company were surprised to hear ten o’clock +strike; an unusually late hour for this quiet, regular family. The +chaplain read prayers, in which Edward devoutly joined, and then he +kissed the matron’s hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father’s +house. The baron offered to show his guest to his room, and the servant +preceded them with lights. The way led past the staircase, and then on +one side into a long gallery, which communicated with another wing of +the castle.</p> + +<p>The high-vaulted ceilings, the curious carving on the ponderous +doorways, the pointed gothic windows, through many broken panes of which +a sharp night wind whistled, proved to Edward that he was in the old +part of the castle, and that the famous chamber could not be far off.</p> + +<p>“Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there,” he began, rather +timidly; “I should like it of all things.”</p> + +<p>“Really!” inquired the baron, rather surprised; “have not our ghost +stories alarmed you?”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary,” was the reply, “they have excited the most earnest +wish—”</p> + +<p>“Then, if that be the case,” said the baron, “we will return. The room +was already prepared for you, being the most comfortable and the best in +the whole wing; only I fancied, after our conversation—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, certainly not,” exclaimed Edward; “I could only long for such +dreams.”</p> + +<p>During this discourse they had arrived at the door of the famous room. +They went in. They found themselves in a lofty and spacious apartment, +so large that the two candles which the servant carried, only, shed a +glimmering twilight over it, which did not penetrate to the furthest +corner. A high-canopied bed, hung with costly but old-fashioned damask, +of a dark green, in which were swelling pillows of snowy whiteness, tied +with green bows, and a silk coverlet of the same color, looked very +inviting to the tired traveler. Sofa and chairs of faded needlework, a +carved oak commode and table, a looking-glass in heavy framework, a +prie-dieu and crucifix above it, constituted the furniture of the room, +where, above all things, cleanliness and comfort preponderated, while a +good deal of silver plate was spread out on the toilet-table.</p> + +<p>Edward looked round. “A beautiful room!” he said. “Answer me one +question, baron, if you please. Did he ever sleep here?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” replied Friedenberg; “it was his usual room when he was +here, and he had a most curious dream in that bed, which, as he assured +us, made a great impression on him.”</p> + +<p>“And what was it?” inquired Edward, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“He never told us, for, as you well know, he was reserved by nature; but +we gathered from some words that he let slip, that an early and sudden +death was foretold. Alas! your narrative has confirmed the truth of the +prediction.”</p> + +<p>“Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has he +grieved me by alluding to it,” said Edward; “yet it never made him +gloomy or discontented. He went on his way firmly and calmly, and looked +forward with joy, I might almost say, to another life.”</p> + +<p>“He was a superior man,” answered the baron, “whose memory will ever be +dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good-night. Here is the +bell,” he showed him the cord in between the curtains; “and your servant +sleeps in the next room.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are too careful of me,” said Edward, smiling; “I am used to +sleep by myself.”</p> + +<p>“Still,” replied the baron, “every precaution should be taken. Now, once +more, good night.”</p> + +<p>He shook him by the hand, and, followed by the servant, left the room.</p> + +<p>Thus Edward found himself alone in the large, mysterious-looking, +haunted room, where his deceased friend had so often reposed—where he +also was expected to see a vision. The awe which the place itself +inspired, combined with the sad and yet tender recollection of the +departed Ferdinand, produced a state of mental excitement which was not +favorable to his night’s rest. He had already undressed with the aid of +his servant (whom he had then dismissed), and had been in bed some time, +having extinguished the candles. No sleep visited his eyelids; and the +thought recurred which had so often troubled him, why he had never +received the promised token from Ferdinand, whether his friend’s spirit +were among the blest—whether his silence (so to speak) proceeded from +unwillingness or incapacity to communicate with the living. A mingled +train of reflections agitated his mind: his brain grew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[Pg 535]</a></span> heated; his +pulse beat faster and faster. The castle clock tolled eleven—half past +eleven. He counted the strokes; and at that moment the moon rose above +the dark margin of the rocks which surrounded the castle, and shed her +full light into Edward’s room. Every object stood out in relief from the +darkness. Edward gazed, and thought, and speculated. It seemed to him as +if something moved in the furthest corner of the room. The movement was +evident—it assumed a form—the form of a man, which appeared to +advance, or rather to float forward. Here Edward lost all sense of +surrounding objects, and he found himself once more sitting at the foot +of the monument, in the garden of the academy, where he had contracted +the bond with his friend. As formerly, the moon streamed through the +dark branches of the fir-trees, and shed its cold, pale light on the +cold, white marble of the monument. Then the floating form which had +appeared in the room of the castle became clearer, more substantial, +more earthly-looking; it issued from behind the tombstone, and stood in +the full moonlight. It was Ferdinand, in the uniform of his regiment, +earnest and pale, but with a kind smile on his features.</p> + +<p>“Ferdinand, Ferdinand!” cried Edward, overcome by joy and surprise, and +he strove to embrace the well-loved form, but it waved him aside with a +melancholy look.</p> + +<p>“Ah! you are dead,” continued the speaker; “and why then do I see you +just as you looked when living?”</p> + +<p>“Edward,” answered the apparition, in a voice that sounded as if it came +from afar, “I am dead, but my spirit has no peace.”</p> + +<p>“You are not with the blest?” cried Edward, in a voice of terror.</p> + +<p>“God is merciful,” it replied; “but we are frail and sinful creatures; +inquire no more, but pray for me.”</p> + +<p>“With all my heart,” cried Edward, in a tone of anguish, while he gazed +with affection on the familiar features; “but speak, what can I do for +thee?”</p> + +<p>“An unholy tie still binds me to earth. I have sinned. I was cut off in +the midst of my sinful projects. This ring burns.” He slipped a small +gold ring from his left hand. “Only when every token of this unholy +compact is destroyed, and when I recover the ring which I exchanged for +this, only then can my spirit be at rest. Oh, Edward, dear Edward, bring +me back my ring!”</p> + +<p>“With joy—but where, where am I to seek it?”</p> + +<p>“Emily Varnier will give it thee herself; our engagement was contrary to +holy duties, to prior engagements, to earlier vows. God denied his +blessing to the guilty project, and my course was arrested in a fearful +manner. Pray for me, Edward, and bring back the ring, my ring,” +continued the voice, in a mournful tone of appeal.</p> + +<p>Then the features of the deceased smiled sadly but tenderly; then all +appeared to float once more before Edward’s eyes—the form was lost in +mist, the monument, the fir grove, the moonlight, disappeared: a long, +gloomy, breathless pause followed. Edward lay, half sleeping, half +benumbed, in a confused manner; portions of the dream returned to +him—some images, some sounds—above all, the petition for the +restitution of the ring. But an indescribable power bound his limbs, +closed his eyelids, and silenced his voice; mental consciousness alone +was left him, yet his mind was a prey to terror.</p> + +<p>At length these painful sensations subsided—his nerves became more +braced, his breath came more freely, a pleasing languor crept over his +limbs, and he fell into a peaceful sleep. When he awoke it was already +broad daylight; his sleep toward the end of the night had been quiet and +refreshing. He felt strong and well, but as soon as the recollection of +his dream returned, a deep melancholy took possession of him, and he +felt the traces of tears which grief had wrung from him on his +eyelashes. But what had the vision been? A mere dream engendered by the +conversation of the evening, and his affection for Hallberg’s memory, or +was it at length the fulfillment of the compact?</p> + +<p>There, out of that dark corner, had the form risen up, and moved toward +him. But might it not have been some effect of light and shade produced +by the moonbeams, and the dark branches of a large tree close to the +window, when agitated by the high wind? Perhaps he had seen this, and +then fallen asleep, and all combined had woven itself into a dream. But +the name of Emily Varnier! Edward did not remember ever to have heard +it; certainly it had never been mentioned in Ferdinand’s letters. Could +it be the name of his love, of the object of that ardent and unfortunate +passion? Could the vision be one of truth? He was meditating, lost in +thought, when there was a knock at his door, and the servant entered. +Edward rose hastily, and sprang out of bed. As he did so, he heard +something fall with a ringing sound; the servant stooped and picked up a +gold ring, plain gold, like a wedding-ring. Edward shuddered; he +snatched it from the servant’s hand, and the color forsook his cheeks as +he read the two words “Emily Varnier” engraved inside the hoop. He stood +there like one thunderstruck, as pale as a corpse, with the proof in his +hand that he had not merely dreamed, but had actually spoken with the +spirit of his friend. A servant of the household came in to ask whether +the lieutenant wished to breakfast in his room, or down stairs with the +family. Edward would willingly have remained alone with the thoughts +that pressed heavily on him, but a secret dread lest his absence should +be remarked, and considered as a proof of fear, after all that had +passed on the subject of the haunted room, determined him to accept the +last proposal. He dressed hastily, and arranged his hair carefully, but +the paleness of his face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[Pg 536]</a></span> and the traces of tears in his eyes, were not +to be concealed, and he entered the saloon, where the family were +already assembled at the breakfast-table, with the chaplain and the +doctor.</p> + +<p>The baron rose to greet him; one glance at the young officer’s face was +sufficient; he pressed his hand in silence, and led him to a place by +the side of the baroness. An animated discussion now began concerning +the weather, which was completely changed; a strong south wind had risen +in the night, so there was now a thaw. The snow was all melted—the +torrents were flowing once more, and the roads impassable.</p> + +<p>“How can you possibly reach Blumenberg, to-day?” the baron inquired of +his guest.</p> + +<p>“That will be well nigh impossible,” said the doctor. “I am just come +from a patient at the next village, and I was nearly an hour performing +the same distance in a carriage that is usually traversed on foot in a +quarter of an hour.”</p> + +<p>Edward had not given a thought this morning to the shooting-match. Now +that it had occurred to him to remember it, he felt little regret at +being detained from a scene of noisy festivity which, far from being +desirable, appeared to him actually distasteful in his present frame of +mind. Yet he was troubled, by the thought of intruding too long on the +hospitality of his new friends; and he said, in a hesitating manner,</p> + +<p>“Yes! but I must try how far—-”</p> + +<p>“That you shall not do,” interrupted the baron. “The road is always bad, +and in a thaw it is really dangerous. It would go against my conscience +to allow you to risk it. Remain with us; we have no shooting-match or +ball to offer you, but—”</p> + +<p>“I shall not certainly regret either,” cried Edward, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, remain with us, lieutenant,” said the matron, lying her +hand on his arm, with a kind, maternal gesture. “You are heartily +welcome; and the longer you stay with us, the better shall we be +pleased.”</p> + +<p>The youth bowed, and raised the lady’s hand to his lips, and said,</p> + +<p>“If you will allow me—if you feel certain that I am not intruding—I +will accept, your kind offer with joy. I never care much for a ball, at +any time, and to-day in particular—” he stopped short, and then added, +“In such bad weather as this, the small amusement—”</p> + +<p>“Would be dearly bought,” interposed the baron. “Come, I am delighted +you will remain with us.”</p> + +<p>He shook Edward warmly by the hand.</p> + +<p>“You know you are with old friends.”</p> + +<p>“And, besides,” said the doctor, with disinterested solicitude, “it +would be imprudent, for M. de Wensleben does not look very well. Had you +a good night, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” replied Edward.</p> + +<p>“Without much dreaming?” continued the other, pertinaciously</p> + +<p>“Dreaming! oh, nothing wonderful,” answered the officer.</p> + +<p>“Hem!” said the doctor, shaking his head, portentously. “No one yet—”</p> + +<p>“Were I to relate my dream,” replied Edward, “you would understand it no +more than I did. Confused images—”</p> + +<p>The baroness, who saw the youth’s unwillingness to enlarge upon the +subject, here observed,</p> + +<p>“That some of the visions had been of no great importance—those which +she had heard related, at least.”</p> + +<p>The chaplain led the conversation from dreams themselves, to their +origin, on which subject he and the doctor could not agree; and Edward +and his visions were left in peace at last. But when every one had +departed, each to his daily occupation, Edward followed the baron into +his library.</p> + +<p>“I answered in that manner,” he said, “to get rid of the doctor and his +questioning. To you I will confess the truth. Your room has exercised +its mysterious influence over me.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said the baron, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his +death. I will trust to your kindness—your sympathy—not to require of +me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put +to you.”</p> + +<p>“Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?”</p> + +<p>“Varnier!—certainly not.”</p> + +<p>“Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?”</p> + +<p>“No one; it sounds like a foreign name.”</p> + +<p>“In the bed in which I slept I found this ring,” said Edward, while he +produced it; and the apparition of my friend pronounced that name.</p> + +<p>“Wonderful! As I tell you, I know no one so called—this is the first +time I ever heard the name. But it is entirely unaccountable to me, how +the ring should have come into that bed. You see, M. von Wensleben, what +I told you is true. There is something very peculiar about that room; +the moment you entered, I saw that the spell had been working on you +also, but I did not wish to forestall or force your confidence.”</p> + +<p>“I felt the delicacy, as I do now the kindness, of your intentions. +Those who are as sad as I am can alone tell the value of tenderness and +sympathy.”</p> + +<p>Edward remained this day and the following at the castle, and felt quite +at home with its worthy inmates. He slept twice in the haunted room. He +went away, and came back often; was always welcomed cordially, and +always quartered in the same apartment. But, in spite of all this, he +had no clew, he had no means of lifting the vail of mystery which hung +round the fate of Ferdinand Hallberg and of Emily Varnier.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[Pg 537]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>PART II.—CONCLUSION.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Several</span> weeks passed away. Edward spared no pains to discover some trace +of the lady in question, but all in vain. No one in the neighborhood +knew the family; and he had already determined, as soon as the spring +began, to ask for leave of absence, and to travel through the country +where Ferdinand had formed his unfortunate attachment, when a +circumstance occurred which coincided strangely with his wishes. His +commanding officer gave him a commission to purchase some horses, which, +to his great consolation, led him exactly into that part of the country +where Ferdinand had been quartered. It was a market-town of some +importance. He was to remain there some time, which suited his plans +exactly; and he made use of every leisure hour to cultivate the +acquaintance of the officers, to inquire into Ferdinand’s connections +and acquaintance, to trace the mysterious name if possible, and thus +fulfill a sacred duty. For to him it appeared a sacred duty to execute +the commission of his departed friend—to get possession of the ring, +and to be the means, as he hoped, of giving rest to the troubled spirit +of Ferdinand.</p> + +<p>Already, on the evening of the second day, he was sitting in the +coffee-room with burghers of the place and officers of different +regiments. A newly-arrived cornet was inquiring whether the neighborhood +were a pleasant one, of an infantry officer, one of Hallberg’s corps. +“For,” said he, “I come from charming quarters.”</p> + +<p>“There is not much to boast of,” replied the captain. “There is no good +fellowship, no harmony among the people.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you why that is,” cried an animated lieutenant; “that is +because there is no house as a point of reunion, where one is sure to +find and make acquaintances, and to be amused, and where each individual +ascertains his own merits by the effect they produce on society at +large.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we have had nothing of that kind since the Varniers left us,” said +the captain.</p> + +<p>“Varniers!” cried Edward, with an eagerness he could ill conceal. “The +name sounds foreign.”</p> + +<p>“They were not Germans—they were emigrants from the Netherlands, who +had left their country on account of political troubles,” replied the +captain.</p> + +<p>“Ah, that was a charming house,” cried the lieutenant, “cultivation, +refinement, a sufficient competency, the whole style of the +establishment free from ostentation, yet most comfortable; and +Emily—Emily was the soul of the whole house.”</p> + +<p>“Emily Varnier!” echoed Edward, while his heart beat fast and loud.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes! that was the name of the prettiest, most graceful, most +amiable girl in the world,” said the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>“You seem bewitched by the fair Emily,” observed the cornet.</p> + +<p>“I think you would have been too, had you known her;” rejoined the +lieutenant; “she was the jewel of the whole society. Since she went away +there is no bearing their stupid balls and assemblies.”</p> + +<p>“But you must not forget,” the captain resumed once more, “when you +attribute every thing to the charms of the fair girl, that not only she +but the whole family has disappeared, and we have lost that house which +formed, as you say, so charming a point of reunion in our neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; exactly so,” said an old gentleman, a civilian, who had been +silent hitherto; “the Varniers’ house is a great loss in the country, +where such losses are not so easily replaced as in a large town. First, +the father died, then came the cousin and carried the daughter away.”</p> + +<p>“And did this cousin marry the young lady?” inquired Edward, in a tone +tremulous with agitation.</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” answered the old gentleman; “it was a very great match for +her; he bought land to the value of half a million about here.”</p> + +<p>“And he was an agreeable, handsome man, we must all allow,” remarked the +captain.</p> + +<p>“But she would never have married him,” exclaimed the lieutenant, “if +poor Hallberg had not died.”</p> + +<p>Edward was breathless, but he did not speak a word.</p> + +<p>“She would have been compelled to do so in any case,” said the old man; +“the father had destined them for each other from infancy, and people +say he made his daughter take a vow as he lay on his death-bed.”</p> + +<p>“That sounds terrible,” said Edward; “and does not speak much for the +good feeling of the cousin.”</p> + +<p>“She could not have fulfilled her father’s wish,” interposed the +lieutenant; “her heart was bound up in Hallberg, and Hallberg’s in her. +Few people, perhaps, knew this, for the lovers were prudent and +discreet; I, however, knew it all.”</p> + +<p>“And why was she not allowed to follow the inclination of her heart?” +asked Edward.</p> + +<p>“Because her father had promised her,” replied the captain: “you used +just now the word terrible; it is a fitting expression, according to my +version of the matter. It appears that one of the branches of the house +of Varnier had committed an act of injustice toward another, and Emily’s +father considered it a point of conscience to make reparation. Only +through the marriage of his daughter with a member of the ill-used +branch could that act be obliterated and made up for, and, therefore, he +pressed the matter sorely.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with +abetted his designs.”</p> + +<p>“Then her cousin loved Emily?” inquired Edward.</p> + +<p>“Oh, to desperation,” was the reply; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span>“He was a rival to her shadow, who +followed her not more closely than he did. He was jealous of the rose +that she placed on her bosom.”</p> + +<p>“Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man,” +said Edward.</p> + +<p>“Come,” interposed the old gentleman, with an authoritative tone, “I +think you, gentlemen, go a little too far. I know D’Effernay; he is an +honest, talented man, very rich, indeed, and generous; he anticipates +his wife in every wish. She has the most brilliant house in the +neighborhood, and lives like a princess.”</p> + +<p>“And trembles,” insisted the lieutenant, “when she hears her husband’s +footstep. What good can riches be to her? She would have been happier +with Hallberg.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” rejoined the captain, “why you always looked upon that +attachment as something so decided. It never appeared so to me; and you +yourself say that D’Effernay is very jealous, which I believe him to be, +for he is a man of strong passions; and this very circumstance causes me +to doubt the rest of your story. Jealousy has sharp eyes, and D’Effernay +would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the +friend he always was to our poor comrade.”</p> + +<p>“That does not follow at all,” rejoined the lieutenant, “it only proves +that the lovers were very cautious. So far, however, I agree with you. I +believe that if D’Effernay had suspected any thing of the kind he would +have murdered Hallberg.”</p> + +<p>A shudder passed through Edward’s veins.</p> + +<p>“Murdered!” he repeated in a hollow voice; “do you not judge too harshly +of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?”</p> + +<p>“That does he, indeed,” said the old man; “these gentlemen are all angry +with D’Effernay, because he has carried off the prettiest girl in the +country. But I am told he does not intend remaining where he now lives. +He wishes to sell his estates.”</p> + +<p>“Really,” inquired the captain, “and where is he going?”</p> + +<p>“I have no idea,” replied the other; “but he is selling every thing off. +One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in +negotiation for the place where he resides.”</p> + +<p>The conversation now turned on the value of D’Effernay’s property, and +of land in general, &c.</p> + +<p>Edward had gained materials enough for reflection; he rose soon, took +leave of the company, and gave himself up, in the solitude of his own +room, to the torrent of thought and feeling which that night’s +conversation had let loose. So, then, it was true; Emily Varnier was no +fabulous being! Hallberg had loved her, his love had been returned, but +a cruel destiny had separated them. How wonderfully did all he had heard +explain the dream at the Castle, and how completely did that supply what +had remained doubtful, or had been omitted in the officer’s narrative. +Emily Varnier, doubtless, possessed that ring, to gain possession of +which now seemed his bounden duty. He resolved not to delay its +fulfillment a moment, however difficult it might prove, and he only +reflected on the best manner in which he should perform the task +allotted to him. The sale of the property appeared to him a favorable +opening. The fame of his father’s wealth made it probable that the son +might wish to be a purchaser of a fine estate, like the one in question. +He spoke openly of such a project, made inquiries of the old gentleman, +and the captain, who seemed to him to know most about the matter; and as +his duties permitted a trip for a week or so, he started immediately, +and arrived on the second day at the place of his destination. He +stopped in the public house in the village to inquire if the estate lay +near, and whether visitors were allowed to see the house and grounds. +Mine host, who doubtless had had his directions, sent a messenger +immediately to the Castle, who returned before long, accompanied by a +chasseur, in a splendid livery, who invited the stranger to the Castle +in the name of M. D’Effernay.</p> + +<p>This was exactly what Edward wished, and expected. Escorted by the +chasseur he soon arrived at the Castle, and was shown up a spacious +staircase into a modern, almost, one might say, a +magnificently-furnished room, where the master of the house received +him. It was evening, toward the end of winter, the shades of twilight +had already fallen, and Edward found himself suddenly in a room quite +illuminated with wax candles. D’Effernay stood in the middle of the +saloon, a tall, thin young man. A proud bearing seemed to bespeak a +consciousness of his own merit, or at least of his position. His +features were finely formed, but the traces of stormy passion, or of +internal discontent, had lined them prematurely.</p> + +<p>In figure he was very slender, and the deep sunken eye, the gloomy frown +which was fixed between his brows, and the thin lips, had no very +prepossessing expression, and yet there was something imposing in the +whole appearance of the man.</p> + +<p>Edward thanked him civilly for his invitation, spoke of his idea of +being a purchaser as a motive for his visit, and gave his own, and his +father’s name. D’Effernay seemed pleased with all he said. He had known +Edward’s family in the metropolis; he regretted that the late hour would +render it impossible for them to visit the property to-day, and +concluded by pressing the lieutenant to pass the night at the Castle. On +the morrow they would proceed to business, and now he would have the +pleasure of presenting his wife to the visitor. Edward’s heart beat +violently—at length then he would see her! Had he loved her himself he +could not have gone to meet her with more agitation. D’Effernay led his +guest through many rooms, which were all as well furnished, and as +brilliantly lighted, as the first he had entered. At length he opened +the door of a small boudoir, where there was no light, save that which +the faint, gray twilight imparted through the windows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[Pg 539]</a></span></p> + +<p>The simple arrangement of this little room, with dark green walls, only +relieved by some engravings and coats of arms, formed a pleasing +contrast to Edward’s eyes, after the glaring splendor of the other +apartments. From behind a piano-forte, at which she had been seated in a +recess, rose a tall, slender female form, in a white dress of extreme +simplicity.</p> + +<p>“My love,” said D’Effernay, “I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant +Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate.”</p> + +<p>Emily courtesied; the friendly twilight concealed the shudder that +passed over her whole frame, as she heard the familiar name which +aroused so many recollections.</p> + +<p>She bade the stranger welcome, in a low, sweet voice, whose tremulous +accents were not unobserved by Edward; and while the husband made some +further observation, he had leisure to remark, as well as the fading +light would allow, the fair outline of her oval face, the modest grace +of her movements, her pretty nymph-like figure—in fact, all those +charms which seemed familiar to him through the impassioned descriptions +of his friend.</p> + +<p>“But what can this fancy be, to sit in the dark?” asked D’Effernay, in +no mild tone; “you know that is a thing I can not bear:” and with these +words, and without waiting his wife’s answer, he rang the bell over her +sofa, and ordered lights.</p> + +<p>While these were placed on the table, the company sat down by the fire, +and conversation commenced. By the full light Edward could perceive all +Emily’s real beauty—her pale, but lovely face, the sad expression of +her large blue eyes, so often concealed by their dark lashes, and then +raised, with a look full of feeling, a sad, pensive, intellectual +expression; and he admired the simplicity of her dress, and of every +object that surrounded her: all appeared to him to bespeak a superior +mind.</p> + +<p>They had not sat long, before D’Effernay was called away. One of his +people had something important, something urgent to communicate to him, +which admitted of no delay. A look of fierce anger almost distorted his +features; in an instant his thin lips moved rapidly, and Edward thought +he muttered some curses between his teeth. He left the room, but in so +doing, he cast a glance of mistrust and ill-temper on the handsome +stranger with whom he was compelled to leave his wife alone. Edward +observed it all. All that he had seen to-day—all that he had heard from +his comrades of the man’s passionate and suspicious disposition, +convinced him that his stay here would not be long, and that, perhaps, a +second opportunity of speaking alone with Emily might not offer itself.</p> + +<p>He determined, therefore, to profit by the present moment: and no sooner +had D’Effernay left the room, than he began to tell Emily she was not so +complete a stranger to him as it might seem; that long before he had had +the pleasure of seeing her—even before he had heard her name—she was +known to him, so to speak, in spirit.</p> + +<p>Madame D’Effernay was moved. She was silent for a time, and gazed +fixedly on the ground; then she looked up; the mist of unshed tears +dimmed her blue eyes, and her bosom heaved with the sigh she could not +suppress.</p> + +<p>“To me also the name of Wensleben is familiar. There is a link between +our souls. Your friend has often spoken of you to me.”</p> + +<p>But she could say no more; tears checked her speech.</p> + +<p>Edward’s eyes were glistening also, and the two companions were silent; +at length he began once more:</p> + +<p>“My dear lady,” he said, “my time is short, and I have a solemn message +to deliver to you. Will you allow me to do so now?”</p> + +<p>“To me?” she asked, in a tone of astonishment.</p> + +<p>“From my departed friend,” answered Edward, emphatically.</p> + +<p>“From Ferdinand? and that now—after—” she shrunk back, as if in +terror.</p> + +<p>“Now that he is no longer with us, do you mean? I found the message in +his papers, which have been intrusted to me only lately, since I have +been in the neighborhood. Among them was a token which I was to restore +to you.” He produced the ring. Emily seized it wildly, and trembled as +she looked upon it.</p> + +<p>“It is indeed my ring,” she said at length, “the same which I gave him +when we plighted our troth in secret. You are acquainted with every +thing, I perceive; I shall therefore risk nothing if I speak openly.” +She wept, and pressed the ring to her lips.</p> + +<p>“I see that my friend’s memory is dear to you,” continued Edward. “You +will forgive the prayer I am about to make to you; my visit to you +concerns his ring.”</p> + +<p>“How—what is it you wish?” cried Emily, terrified.</p> + +<p>“It was <em>his</em> wish,” replied Edward. “He evinced an earnest desire to +have this pledge of an unfortunate and unfulfilled engagement restored.”</p> + +<p>“How is that possible? You did not speak with him before his death; and +this happened so suddenly after, that, to give you the commission—”</p> + +<p>“There was no time for it! that is true,” answered Edward, with an +inward, shudder, although outwardly he was calm. “Perhaps this wish was +awakened immediately before his death. I found it, as I told you, +expressed in those papers.”</p> + +<p>“Incomprehensible!” she exclaimed. “Only a short time before his death, +we cherished—deceitful, indeed, they proved, but, oh, what blessed +hopes!—we reckoned on casualties, on what might possibly occur to +assist us. Neither of us could endure to dwell on the idea of +separation; and yet—yet since—Oh, my God!” she cried, overcome by +sorrow, and she hid her face between her hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[Pg 540]</a></span> Edward was lost in +confused thought. For a time both again were silent; at length Emily +started up—</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, M. de Wensleben. What you have related to me, what you have +asked of me, has produced so much excitement, so much agitation, that it +is necessary that I should be alone for a few moments, to recover my +composure.”</p> + +<p>“I am gone,” cried Edward, springing from his chair.</p> + +<p>“No! no!” she replied, “you are my guest; remain here. I have a +household duty which calls me away.” She laid a stress on these words.</p> + +<p>She leant forward, and with a sad, sweet smile, she gave her hand to the +friend of her lost Ferdinand, pressing his gently, and disappeared +through the inner door.</p> + +<p>Edward stood stunned, bewildered; then he paced the room with hasty +steps, threw himself on the sofa, and took up one of the books that lay +on the table, rather to have something in his hand, than to read. It +proved to be Young’s “Night Thoughts.” He looked through it, and was +attracted by many passages, which seemed, in his present frame of mind, +fraught with peculiar meaning; yet his thoughts wandered constantly from +the page to his dead friend. The candles, unheeded both by Emily and +him, burned on with long wicks, giving little light in the silent room, +over which the red glare from the hearth shed a lurid glow. Hurried +footsteps sounded in the ante-room; the door was thrown open. Edward +looked up, and saw D’Effernay staring at him, and round the room, in an +angry, restless manner.</p> + +<p>Edward could not but think there was something almost unearthly in those +dark looks and that towering form.</p> + +<p>“Where is my wife?” was D’Effernay’s first question.</p> + +<p>“She is gone to fulfill some household duty,” replied the other.</p> + +<p>“And leaves you here alone in this miserable darkness? Most +extraordinary!—indeed, most unaccountable!” and, as he spoke, he +approached the table and snuffed the candles, with a movement of +impatience.</p> + +<p>“She left me here with old friends,” said Edward, with a forced smile. +“I have been reading.”</p> + +<p>“What, in the dark?” inquired D’Effernay, with a look of distrust. “It +was so dark when I came in, that you could not possibly have +distinguished a letter.”</p> + +<p>“I read for some time, and then I fell into a train of thought, which is +usually the result of reading Young’s “Night Thoughts.””</p> + +<p>“Young! I can not bear that author. He is so gloomy.”</p> + +<p>“But you are fortunately so happy, that the lamentations of the lonely +mourner can find no echo in your breast.”</p> + +<p>“You think so!” said D’Effernay, in a churlish tone, and he pressed his +lips together tightly, as Emily came into the room: he went to meet +her.</p> + +<p>“You have been a long time away,” was his observation, as he looked into +her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. “I found +our guest alone.”</p> + +<p>“M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me,” she replied, “and then I +thought you would be back immediately.”</p> + +<p>They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared to +be forgotten.</p> + +<p>The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw that +Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to pacify her +husband’s ill humor.</p> + +<p>In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were +successful. D’Effernay became more cheerful; the conversation more +animated; and Edward found that his host could be a very agreeable +member of society when he pleased, combining a good deal of information +with great natural powers. The evening passed away more pleasantly than +it promised at one time; and after an excellent and well-served supper, +the young officer was shown into a comfortable room, fitted up with +every modern luxury; and weary in mind and body, he soon fell asleep. He +dreamed of all that had occupied his waking thoughts—of his friend, and +his friend’s history.</p> + +<p>But in that species of confusion which often characterizes dreams, he +fancied that he was Ferdinand, or at least, his own individuality seemed +mixed up with that of Hallberg. He felt that he was ill. He lay in an +unknown room, and by his bedside stood a small table, covered with +glasses and phials, containing medicine, as is usual in a sick room.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and D’Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as if he +had just left his bed: and now in Edward’s mind dreams and realities +were mingled together, and he thought that D’Effernay came, perhaps, to +speak with him on the occurrences of the preceding day. But no! he +approached the table on which the medicines stood, looked at the watch, +took up one of the phials and a cup, measured the draught, drop by drop, +then he turned and looked round him stealthily, and then he drew from +his breast a pale blue, coiling serpent, which he threw into the cup, +and held it to the patient’s lips, who drank, and instantly felt, a +numbness creep over his frame which ended in death. Edward fancied that +he was dead; he saw the coffin brought, but the terror lest he should be +buried alive, made him start up with a sudden effort, and he opened his +eyes.</p> + +<p>The dream had passed away; he sat in his bed safe and well; but it was +long ere he could in any degree recover his composure, or get rid of the +impression which the frightful apparition had made on him. They brought +his breakfast, with a message from the master of the house to inquire +whether he would like to visit the park, farms, &c. He dressed quickly, +and descended to the court, where he found his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[Pg 541]</a></span> host in a riding-dress, +by the side of two fine horses, already saddled. D’Effernay greeted the +young man courteously; but Edward felt an inward repugnance as he looked +on that gloomy though handsome countenance, now lighted up by the beams +of the morning sun, yet recalling vividly the dark visions of the night. +D’Effernay was full of attentions to his new friend. They started on +their ride, in spite of some threatening clouds, and began the +inspection of meadows, shrubberies, farms, &c., &c. After a couple of +hours, which were consumed in this manner, it began to rain a few drops, +and at last burst out into a heavy shower. It was soon impossible even +to ride through the woods for the torrents that were pouring down, and +so they returned to the castle.</p> + +<p>Edward retired to his room to change his dress, and to write some +letters, he said, but more particularly to avoid Emily, in order not to +excite her husband’s jealousy. As the bell rang for dinner he saw her +again, and found to his surprise that the captain, whom he had first +seen in the coffee-room, and who had given him so much information, was +one of the party. He was much pleased, for they had taken a mutual fancy +to each other. The captain was not at quarters the day Edward had left +them, but as soon as he heard where his friend had gone, he put horses +to his carriage and followed him, for he said he also should like to see +these famous estates. D’Effernay seemed in high good humor to-day, Emily +far more silent than yesterday, and taking little part in the +conversation of the men, which turned on political economy. After coffee +she found an opportunity to give Edward (unobserved) a little packet. +The look with which she did so, told plainly what it contained, and the +young man hurried to his room as soon as he fancied he could do so +without remark or comment. The continued rain precluded all idea of +leaving the house any more that day. He unfolded the packet; there were +a couple of sheets, written closely in a woman’s fair hand, and +something wrapped carefully in a paper, which he knew to be the ring. It +was the fellow to that which he had given the day before to Emily, only +Ferdinand’s name was engraved inside instead of hers. Such were the +contents of the papers:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[Pg 542]</a></span></p><p>“Secrecy would be misplaced with the friend of the dead. Therefore will +I speak to you of things which I have never uttered to a human being +until now. Jules D’Effernay is nearly related to me. We knew each other +in the Netherlands, where our estates joined. The boy loved me already +with a love that amounted to passion; this love was my father’s greatest +joy, for there was an old and crying injustice which the ancestors of +D’Effernay had suffered from ours, that could alone, he thought, be made +up by the marriage of the only children of the two branches. So we were +destined for each other almost from our cradles; and I was content it +should be so, for Jules’s handsome face and decided preference for me +were agreeable to me, although I felt no great affection for him. We +were separated: Jules traveled in France, England, and America, and made +money as a merchant, which profession he had taken up suddenly. My +father, who had a place under government, left his country in +consequence of political troubles, and came into this part of the world, +where some distant relations of my mother’s lived. He liked the +neighborhood; he bought land; we lived very happily; I was quite +contented in Jules’s absence; I had no yearning of the heart toward him, +yet I thought kindly of him, and troubled myself little about my future. +Then—then I learned to know your friend. Oh, then! I felt, when I +looked upon him, when I listened to him, when we conversed together, I +felt, I acknowledged, that there might be happiness on earth of which I +had hitherto never dreamed. Then I loved for the first time, ardently, +passionately, and was beloved in return. Acquainted with the family +engagements; he did not dare openly to proclaim his love, and I knew I +ought not to foster the feeling; but, alas! how seldom does passion +listen to the voice of reason and of duty. Your friend and I met in +secret; in secret we plighted our troth, and exchanged those rings, and +hoped and believed that by showing a bold front to our destiny we should +subdue it to our will. The commencement was sinful, it has met with a +dire retribution. Jules’s letters announced his speedy return. He had +sold every thing in his own country, had given up all his mercantile +affairs, through which he had greatly increased an already considerable +fortune, and now he was about to join us, or rather me, without whom he +could not live. This appeared to me like the demand for payment of a +heavy debt. This debt I owed to Jules, who loved me with all his heart, +who was in possession of my father’s promised word and mine also. Yet I +could not give up your friend. In a state of distraction I told him all; +we meditated flight. Yes, I was so far guilty, and I make the confession +in hopes that some portion of my errors may be expiated by repentance. +My father, who had long been in a declining state, suddenly grew worse, +and this delayed and hindered the fulfillment of our designs. Jules +arrived. During the five years he had been away he was much changed in +appearance, and that advantageously. I was struck when I first saw him, +but it was also easy to detect in those handsome features and manly +bearing, a spirit of restlessness and violence which had already shown +itself in him as a boy, and which passing years, with their bitter +experience and strong passions, had greatly developed. The hope that we +had cherished of D’Effernay’s possible indifference to me, of the change +which time might have wrought in his attachment, now seemed idle and +absurd. His love was indeed impassioned. He embraced me in a manner that +made me shrink from him, and altogether his deportment toward me was a +strange contrast to the gentle, tender, refined affection of our dear +friend. I trembled whenever Jules entered the room, and all that I had +prepared to say to him, all the plans which I had revolved in my mind +respecting him, vanished in an instant before the power of his presence, +and the almost imperative manner in which he claimed my hand. My +father’s illness increased; he was now in a very precarious state, +hopeless indeed. Jules rivaled me in filial attentions to him, that I +can never cease to thank him for; but this illness made my situation +more and more critical, and it accelerated the fulfillment of the +contract. I was to renew my promise to him by the death-bed of my +father. Alas, alas! I fell senseless to the ground when this +announcement was made to me. Jules began to suspect. Already my cold, +embarrassed manner toward him since his return had struck him as +strange. He began to suspect, I repeat, and the effect that this +suspicion had on him, it would be impossible to describe to you. Even +now, after so long a time, now that I am accustomed to his ways, and +more reconciled to my fate by the side of a noble, though somewhat +impetuous man, it makes me tremble to think of those paroxysms, which +the idea that I did not love him called forth. They were fearful; he +nearly sank under them. During two days his life was in danger. At last +the storm passed, my father died; Jules watched over me with the +tenderness of a brother, the solicitude of a parent; for that indeed I +shall ever be grateful. His suspicion once awakened, he gazed round with +penetrating looks to discover the cause of my altered feelings. But your +friend never came to our house; we met in an unfrequented spot, and my +father’s illness had interrupted these interviews. Altogether I can not +tell if Jules discovered any thing. A fearful circumstance rendered all +our precautions useless, and cut the knot of our secret connection, to +loose which voluntarily I felt I had no power. A wedding-feast, at a +neighboring castle, assembled all the nobility and gentry, and officers +quartered near, together; my deep mourning was an excuse for my absence. +Jules, though he usually was happiest by my side, could not resist the +invitation, and your friend resolved to go, although he was unwell; he +feared to raise suspicion by remaining away, when I was left at home. +With great difficulty he contrived the first day to make one at a +splendid hunt, the second day he could not leave his bed. A physician, +who was in the house, pronounced his complaint to be violent fever, and +Jules, whose room joined that of the sick man, offered him every little +service and kindness which compassion and good feeling prompted; and I +can not but praise him all the more for it, as who can tell, perhaps, +his suspicion might have taken the right direction? On the morning of +the second day—but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the +memory of which can never pass from my mind—a fit of apoplexy most +unexpectedly, but gently, ended the noblest life, and separated us +forever! Now you know all. I inclose the ring. I can not write more. +Farewell!”</p> + +<p>The conclusion of the letter made a deep impression on Edward. His dream +rose up before his remembrance, the slight indisposition, the sudden +death, the fearful nurse-tender, all arranged themselves in order before +his mind, and an awful whole rose out of all these reflections, a +terrible suspicion which he tried to throw off. But he could not do so, +and when he met the captain and D’Effernay in the evening, and the +latter challenged his visitors to a game of billiards, Edward glanced +from time to time at his host in a scrutinizing manner, and could not +but feel that the restless discontent which was visible in his +countenance, and the unsteady glare of his eyes, which shunned the fixed +look of others, only fitted too well into the shape of the dark thoughts +which were crossing his own mind. Late in the evening, after supper, +they played whist in Emily’s boudoir. On the morrow, if the weather +permitted, they were to conclude their inspection of the surrounding +property, and the next day they were to visit the iron foundries, which, +although distant from the castle several miles, formed a very important +item in the rent-roll of the estates. The company separated for the +night. Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same +circumstances, recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick +man was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror took +possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular Communication +with the beings of the invisible world.</p> + +<p>The weather favored D’Effernay’s projects. The whole day was passed in +the open air. Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when they +played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual consent, +every word, every look that could awaken the slightest suspicion, or +jealous feeling in D’Effernay’s mind. She thanked him in her heart for +this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another world; she took +little heed of what passed around her. Her husband was in an excelled +temper; he played the part of host to perfection and when the two +officers were established comfortably by the fire, in the captain’s +room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his courteous +manners.</p> + +<p>“He appears to be a man of general information,” remarked Edward.</p> + +<p>“He has traveled a great deal, and read a great deal, as I told you when +we first met; he is a remarkable man, but one of uncontrolled passions, +and desperately jealous.”</p> + +<p>“Yet he appears very attentive to his wife.”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy, +and himself too.”</p> + +<p>“He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span></p><p>“He can never bear to remain in one place for any length of time +together. He is now going to sell the property he only bought last +year. There is an instability about him; every thing palls on him.”</p> + +<p>“That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the +world.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me +that man must have a bad conscience.”</p> + +<p>“What an idea!” rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the captain’s +remark struck him forcibly. “He seems a man of honor.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, one may be a man of honor, as it is called, and yet have something +quite bad enough to reproach yourself with. But I know nothing about it, +and would not breathe such a thing except to you. His wife, too, looks +so pale and so oppressed.”</p> + +<p>“But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! no! the year before D’Effernay came from Paris, she was as +fresh as a rose. Many people declare that your poor friend loved her. +The affair was wrapped in mystery, and I never believed the report, for +Hallberg was a steady man, and the whole country knew that Emily had +been engaged a long time.”</p> + +<p>“Hallberg never mentioned the name in his letters,” answered Edward, +with less candor than usual.</p> + +<p>“I thought not. Besides D’Effernay was very much attached to him, and +mourned his death.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>“I assure you the morning that Hallberg was found dead in his bed so +unexpectedly, D’Effernay was like one beside himself.”</p> + +<p>“Very extraordinary. But as we are on the subject, tell me, I pray you, +all the circumstances of my poor Ferdinand’s illness, and awfully sudden +death.”</p> + +<p>“I can tell you all about it, as well as any one, for I was one of the +guests at that melancholy wedding. Your friend, and I, and many others +were invited. Hallberg had some idea of not going; he was unwell, with +violent headache and giddiness. But we persuaded him, and he consented +to go with us. The first day he felt tolerably well. We hunted in the +open field; we were all on horseback, the day hot. Hallberg felt worse. +The second day he had a great deal of fever; he could not stay up. The +physician (for fortunately there was one in the company) ordered rest, +cooling medicine, neither of which seemed to do him good. The rest of +the men dispersed, to amuse themselves in various ways. Only D’Effernay +remained at home; he was never very fond of large societies, and we +voted that he was discontented and out of humor because his betrothed +bride was not with him. His room was next to the sick man’s, to whom he +gave all possible care and attention, for poor Hallberg, besides being +ill, was in despair at giving so much trouble in a strange house. +D’Effernay tried to calm him on this point; he nursed him, amused him +with conversation, mixed his medicines, and, in fact, showed more +kindness and tenderness, than any of us would have given him credit +for. Before I went to bed I visited Hallberg, and found him much better, +and more cheerful; the doctor had promised that he should leave his bed +next day. So I left him and retired with the rest of the world, rather +late, and very tired, to rest. The next morning I was awoke by the fatal +tidings. I did not wait to dress, I ran to his room, it was full of +people.”</p> + +<p>“And how, how was the death first discovered?” inquired Edward, in +breathless eagerness.</p> + +<p>“The servant, who came in to attend on him, thought he was asleep, for +he lay in his usual position, his head upon his hand. He went away and +waited for some time; but hours passed, and he thought he ought to wake +his master to give him his medicine. Then the awful discovery was made. +He must have died peacefully, for his countenance was so calm, his limbs +undisturbed. A fit of apoplexy had terminated his life, but in the most +tranquil manner.”</p> + +<p>“Incomprehensible,” said Edward, with a deep sigh. “Did they take no +measures to restore animation?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; all that could be done was done, bleeding, fomentation, +friction; the physician superintended, but there was no hope, it was all +too late. He must have been dead some hours, for he was already cold and +stiff. If there had been a spark of life in him he would have been +saved. It was all over; I had lost my good lieutenant, and the regiment +one of its finest officers.”</p> + +<p>He was silent, and appeared lost in thought. Edward, for his part, felt +overwhelmed by terrible suspicions and sad memories. After a long pause +he recovered himself: “and where was D’Effernay?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“D’Effernay,” answered the captain, rather surprised at the question; +“oh! he was not in the castle when we made the dreadful discovery: he +had gone out for an early walk, and when he came back late, not before +noon, he learned the truth, and was like one out of his senses. It +seemed so awful to him, because he had been so much, the very day +before, with poor Hallberg.”</p> + +<p>“Ay,” answered Edward, whose suspicions were being more and more +confirmed every moment. “And did he see the corpse? did he go into the +chamber of death?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the captain; “he assured us it was out of his power to do +so; he could not bear the sight; and I believe it. People with such +uncontrolled feelings as this D’Effernay, are incapable of performing +those duties which others think it necessary and incumbent on them to +fulfill.”</p> + +<p>“And where was Hallberg buried?”</p> + +<p>“Not far from the Castle where the mournful event took place. To-morrow, +if we go to the iron foundry, we shall be near the spot.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it,” cried Edward, eagerly, while a host of projects rose +up in his mind. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[Pg 544]</a></span>“But now, captain, I will not trespass any longer on +your kindness. It is late, and we must be up betimes to-morrow. How far +have we to go?”</p> + +<p>“Not less than four leagues, certainly. D’Effernay has arranged that we +shall drive there, and see it all at our leisure: then we shall return +in the evening. Good night, Wensleben.”</p> + +<p>They separated: Edward hurried to his room; his heart overflowed. Sorrow +on the one hand, horror and even hatred on the other, agitated him by +turns. It was long before he could sleep. For the third time the vision +haunted him; but now it was clearer than before; now he saw plainly the +features of him who lay in bed, and of him who stood beside the +bed—they were those of Hallberg and of D’Effernay.</p> + +<p>This third apparition, the exact counterpart of the two former (only +more vivid), all that he had gathered from conversations on the subject, +and the contents of Emily’s letter, left scarcely the shadow of a doubt +remaining as to how his friend had left the world.</p> + +<p>D’Effernay’s jealous and passionate nature seemed to allow of the +possibility of such a crime, and it could scarcely be wondered at, if +Edward regarded him with a feeling akin to hatred. Indeed the desire of +visiting Hallberg’s grave, in order to place the ring in the coffin, +could alone reconcile Wensleben to the idea of remaining any longer +beneath the roof of a man whom he now considered the murderer of his +friend. His mind was a prey to conflicting doubts: detestation for the +culprit, and grief for the victim, pointed out one line of conduct, +while the difficulty of proving D’Effernay’s guilt, and still more, pity +and consideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter +rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the +retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award +him. He would seek his friend’s grave, and then he would separate from +D’Effernay, and never see him more. In the midst of these reflections +the servant came to tell him, that the carriage was ready. A shudder +passed over his frame as D’Effernay greeted him; but he commanded +himself, and they started on their expedition.</p> + +<p>Edward spoke but little, and that only when it was necessary, and the +conversation was kept up by his two companions; he had made every +inquiry, before he set out, respecting the place of his friend’s +interment, the exact situation of the tomb, the name of the village, and +its distance from the main road. On their way home, he requested that +D’Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile +or two, as far as the village of ——, with whose rector he was +particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on +D’Effernay’s brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of +vexation at any delay or hinderance; and he was so anxious to propitiate +his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands, +that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed +to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was. The captain stood up +in the carriage and pointed out the village to him, at some distance +off; it lay in a deep ravine at the foot of the mountains.</p> + +<p>They arrived in the course of time, and inquired for the clergyman’s +house, which, as well as the church, was situated on rising ground. The +three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the +bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the +rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two +others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but +to D’Effernay’s restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared +interminable.</p> + +<p>He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, “M. de +Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have +been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his +appearance.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long.”</p> + +<p>“What on earth can he have to do here?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy—the enthusiasm of youth.”</p> + +<p>“It has a name, I suppose?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, but—”</p> + +<p>“Is it sufficiently important, think you, to make us run the risk of +being benighted on such roads as these?”</p> + +<p>“Why, it is quite early in the day.”</p> + +<p>“But we have more than two leagues to go. Why will you not speak? there +can not be any great mystery.”</p> + +<p>“Well, perhaps not a mystery exactly, but just one of those subjects on +which we are usually reserved with others.”</p> + +<p>“So! so!” rejoined D’Effernay, with a little sneer. “Some love affair; +some girl or another who pursues him, that he wants to get rid of.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing of the kind, I can assure you,” replied the captain, drily. “It +could scarcely be more innocent. He wishes, in fact, to visit his +friend’s grave.”</p> + +<p>The listener’s expression was one of scorn and anger. “It is worth the +trouble, certainly,” he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh. “A charming +sentimental pilgrimage, truly; and pray who is this beloved friend, over +whose resting-place he must shed a tear, and plant a forget-me-not? He +told me he had never been in the neighborhood before.”</p> + +<p>“No more he had; neither did he know where poor Hallberg was buried +until I told him.”</p> + +<p>“Hallberg!” echoed the other in a tone that startled the captain, and +caused him to turn and look fixedly in the speaker’s face. It was deadly +pale, and the captain observed the effort which D’Effernay made to +recover his composure.</p> + +<p>“Hallberg!” he repeated again, in a calmer tone, “and was Wensleben a +friend of his?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span></p><p>“His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the +academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!” said D’Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up +into a passion. “And this lieutenant came here on this account, then, +and the purchase of the estates was a mere excuse?”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” observed the captain, in a decided tone of voice; +“I have already told you that it was I who informed him of the place +where his friend lies buried.”</p> + +<p>“That may be, but it was owing to his friendship, to the wish to learn +something further of his fate, that we are indebted for the visit of +this romantic knight-errant.”</p> + +<p>“That does not appear likely,” replied the captain, who thought it +better to avert, if possible, the rising storm of his companion’s fury. +“Why should he seek for news of Hallberg here, when he comes from the +place where he was quartered for a long time, and where all his comrades +now are.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” cried D’Effernay, whose passion increased every +moment. “Perhaps you have heard what was once gossiped about the +neighborhood, that Hallberg was an admirer of my wife before she +married.”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, I have heard that report, but never believed it. Hallberg was a +prudent, steady man, and every one knew that Mademoiselle Varnier’s hand +had been promised for some time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes! yes! but you do not know to what lengths passion and avarice may +lead: for Emily was rich. We must not forget that, when we discuss the +matter; an elopement with the rich heiress would have been a fine thing +for a poor, beggarly lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>“Shame! shame! M. D’Effernay. How can you slander the character of that +upright young man? If Hallberg were so unhappy as to love Mademoiselle +Varnier—”</p> + +<p>“That he did! you may believe me so far. I had reason to know it, and I +did know it.”</p> + +<p>“We had better change the conversation altogether, as it has taken so +unpleasant a turn. Hallberg is dead; his errors, be they what they may, +lie buried with him. His name stands high with all who knew him. Even +you, M. D’Effernay—you were his friend.”</p> + +<p>“I his friend? I hated him; I loathed him!” D’Effernay could not +proceed; he foamed at the mouth with rage.</p> + +<p>“Compose yourself!” said the captain, rising as he spoke, “you look and +speak like a madman.”</p> + +<p>“A madman! Who says I am mad? Now I see it all—- the connection of the +whole—the shameful conspiracy.”</p> + +<p>“Your conduct is perfectly incomprehensible to me,” answered the +captain, with perfect coolness. “Did you not attend Hallberg in his last +illness, and give him his medicines with your own hand?”</p> + +<p>“I!” stammered D’Effernay. “No! no! no!” he cried, while the captain’s +growing suspicions increased every moment, on account of the +perturbation which his companion displayed. “I never gave his +medicines; whoever says that is a liar.”</p> + +<p>“I say it!” exclaimed the officer, in a loud tone, for his patience was +exhausted. “I say it, because I know that it was so, and I will maintain +that fact against any one at any time. If you choose to contradict the +evidence of my senses, it is you who are a liar!”</p> + +<p>“Ha! you shall give me satisfaction for this insult. Depend upon it, I +am not one to be trifled with, as you shall find. You shall retract your +words.”</p> + +<p>“Never! I am ready to defend every word I have uttered here on this +spot, at this moment, if you please. You have your pistols in the +carriage, you know.”</p> + +<p>D’Effernay cast a look of hatred on the speaker, and then dashing down +the little hill, to the surprise of the servants, he dragged the pistols +from the sword-case, and was by the captain’s side in a moment. But the +loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and +there he stood on D’Effernay’s return; and by his side a venerable old +man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand.</p> + +<p>“In heaven’s name, what has happened?” cried Wensleben.</p> + +<p>“What are you about to do?” interposed the rector, in a tone of +authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror. “Are you +going to commit murder on this sacred spot, close to the precincts of +the church?”</p> + +<p>“Murder! who speaks of murder?” cried D’Effernay. “Who can prove it?” +and as he spoke, the captain turned a fierce, penetrating look upon him, +beneath which he quailed.</p> + +<p>“But, I repeat the question,” Edward began once more, “what does all +this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come +back and find you both armed—both violently agitated—and M. +D’Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by +‘proving it?’—to what do you allude?” At this moment, before any answer +could be made, a man came out of the house with a pick-ax and shovel on +his shoulder, and advancing toward the rector, said respectfully, “I am +quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard.”</p> + +<p>It was now the captain’s turn to look anxious: “What are you going to +do, you surely don’t intend—?” but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted +him.</p> + +<p>“This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies +buried.”</p> + +<p>“But these preparations, what do they mean?”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you,” said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the +deepest emotion, “I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin +to be opened.”</p> + +<p>“How, what?” screamed D’Effernay, once again. “Never—I will never +permit such a thing.”</p> + +<p>“But, sir,” the old man spoke, in a tone of calm decision, contrasting +wonderfully with the violence of him whom he addressed, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[Pg 546]</a></span>“you have no +possible right to interfere. If this gentleman wishes it, and I accede +to the proposition, no one can prevent us from doing as we would.”</p> + +<p>“I tell you I will not suffer it,” continued D’Effernay, with the same +frightful agitation. “Stir at your peril,” he cried, turning sharply +round upon the grave-digger, and holding a pistol to his head; but the +captain pulled his arm away, to the relief of the frightened peasant.</p> + +<p>“M. D’Effernay,” he said, “your conduct for the last half-hour has been +most unaccountable—most unreasonable.”</p> + +<p>“Come, come,” interposed Edward, “let us say no more on the subject; but +let us be going,” he addressed the rector; “we will not detain these +gentlemen much longer.”</p> + +<p>He made a step toward the church-yard, but D’Effernay clutched his arm, +and, with an impious oath, “you shall not stir,” he said; “that grave +shall not be opened.”</p> + +<p>Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all +his doubts were confirmed.</p> + +<p>D’Effernay saw that Wensleben was resolved, and a deadly pallor spread +itself over his features, and a shudder passed visibly over his frame.</p> + +<p>“You are going!” he cried, with every gesture and appearance of +insanity. “Go, then;” ... and he pointed the muzzle of the pistol to his +mouth, and before any one could prevent him, he drew the trigger, and +fell back a corpse. The spectators were motionless with surprise and +horror; the captain was the first to recover himself in some degree. He +bent over the body with the faint hope of detecting some sign of life. +The old man turned pale and dizzy with a sense of terror, and he looked +as if he would have swooned, had not Edward led him gently into his +house, while the two others busied themselves with vain attempts to +restore life. The spirit of D’Effernay had gone to its last account!</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, an awful moment. Death in its worst shape was before +them, and a terrible duty still remained to be performed.</p> + +<p>Edward’s cheek was blanched; his eye had a fixed look, yet he moved and +spoke with a species of mechanical action, which had something almost +ghastly in it. Causing the body to be removed into the house, he bade +the captain summon the servants of the deceased and then motioning with +his hand to the awe-struck sexton, he proceeded with him to the +church-yard. A few clods of earth alone were removed ere the captain +stood by his friend’s side.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Here we must pause. Perhaps it were better altogether to emulate the +silence that was maintained then and afterward by the two comrades. But +the sexton could not be bribed to entire secrecy, and it was a story he +loved to tell, with details we gladly omit, of how Wensleben solemnly +performed his task—of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the +cause of Hallberg’s death. Those who love the horrible must draw on +their own imaginations to supply what we resolutely withhold.</p> + +<p>Edward, we believe, never alluded to D’Effernay’s death, and all the +awful circumstances attending it, but twice—once, when, with every +necessary detail, he and the captain gave their evidence to the legal +authorities; and once, with as few details as possible, when he had an +interview with the widow of the murderer, the beloved of the victim. The +particulars of this interview he never divulged, for he considered +Emily’s grief too sacred to be exposed to the prying eyes of the curious +and the unfeeling. She left the neighborhood immediately, leaving her +worldly affairs in Wensleben’s hands, who soon disposed of the property +for her. She returned to her native country, with the resolution of +spending the greater part of her wealth in relieving the distresses of +others, wisely seeking, in the exercise of piety and benevolence, the +only possible alleviation of her own deep and many-sided griefs. For +Edward, he was soon pronounced to have recovered entirely, from the +shock of these terrible events. Of a courageous and energetic +disposition, he pursued the duties of his profession with a firm step, +and hid his mighty sorrow deep in the recesses of his heart. To the +superficial observer, tears, groans, and lamentations are the only +proofs of sorrow; and when they subside, the sorrow is said to have +passed away also. Thus the captive, immured within the walls of his +prison-house, is as one dead to the outward world, though the jailer be +a daily witness to the vitality of affliction.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="WORDSWORTHS_POSTHUMOUS_POEM" id="WORDSWORTHS_POSTHUMOUS_POEM"></a>WORDSWORTH’S POSTHUMOUS POEM.<a name="FNanchor_J_10" id="FNanchor_J_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">This</span> is a voice that speaks to us across a gulf of nearly fifty years. A +few months ago Wordsworth was taken from us at the ripe age of +fourscore, yet here we have him addressing the public, as for the first +time, with all the fervor, the unworn freshness, the hopeful confidence +of thirty. We are carried back to the period when Coleridge, Byron, +Scott, Rogers, and Moore were in their youthful prime. We live again in +the stirring days when the poets who divided public attention and +interest with the Fabian struggle in Portugal and Spain, with the wild +and terrible events of the Russian campaign, with the uprising of the +Teutonic nations, and the overthrow of Napoleon, were in a manner but +commencing their cycle of songs. This is to renew, to antedate, the +youth of a majority of the living generation. But only those whose +memory still carries them so far back, can feel within them any reflex +of that eager excitement, with which the news of battles fought and won, +or mail-coach copies of some new work of Scott, or Byron, or the +<cite>Edinburgh Review</cite>, were looked for and received in those already old +days.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span></p> + +<p>We need not remind the readers of the <cite>Excursion</cite>, that when +Wordsworth was enabled, by the generous enthusiasm of Raisley Calvert, +to retire with a slender independence to his native mountains, there to +devote himself exclusively to his art, his first step was to review and +record in verse, the origin and progress of his own powers, as far as he +was acquainted with them. This was at once an exercise in versification, +and a test of the kind of poetry for which he was by temperament fitted. +The result was a determination to compose a philosophical poem, +containing views of man, of nature, and of society. This ambitious +conception has been doomed to share the fate of so many other colossal +undertakings. Of the three parts of his <cite>Recluse</cite>, thus planned, only +the second (the <cite>Excursion</cite>, published in 1814) has been completed. Of +the other two there exists only the first book of the first, and the +plan of the third. The <cite>Recluse</cite> will remain in fragmentary greatness, a +poetical Cathedral of Cologne.</p> + +<p>Matters standing thus, it has not been without a melancholy sense of the +uncertainty of human projects, and of the contrast between the sanguine +enterprise and its silent evaporation (so often the “history of an +individual mind”), that we have perused this <cite>Prelude</cite> which no +completed strain was destined to follow. Yet in the poem itself there is +nothing to inspire depression. It is animated throughout with the +hopeful confidence in the poet’s own powers, so natural to the time of +life at which it was composed; it evinces a power and soar of +imagination unsurpassed in any of his writings; and its images and +incidents have a freshness and distinctness which they not seldom lost, +when they came to be elaborated, as many of them were, in his minor +poems of a later date.</p> + +<p>The <cite>Prelude</cite>, as the title page indicates, is a poetical autobiography, +commencing with the earliest reminiscences of the author, and continued +to the time at which it was composed. We are told that it was begun in +1799 and completed in 1805. It consists of fourteen books. Two are +devoted to the infancy and schooltime of the poet; four to the period of +his University life; two to a brief residence in London, immediately +subsequent to his leaving Cambridge, and a retrospect of the progress +his mind had then made; and three to a residence in France, chiefly in +the Loire, but partly in Paris, during the stormy period of Louis the +Sixteenth’s flight and capture, and the fierce contest between the +Girondins and Robespierre. Five books are then occupied with an analysis +of the internal struggle occasioned by the contradictory influences of +rural and secluded nature in boyhood, and of society when the young man +first mingles with the world. The surcease of the strife is recorded in +the fourteenth book, entitled “Conclusion.”</p> + +<p>The poem is addressed to Coleridge; and, apart from its poetical merits, +is interesting as at once a counterpart and supplement to that author’s +philosophical and beautiful criticism of the <cite>Lyrical Ballads</cite> in his +<cite>Biographia Literaria</cite>. It completes the explanation, there given, of +the peculiar constitution of Wordsworth’s mind, and of his poetical +theory. It confirms and justifies our opinion that that theory was +essentially partial and erroneous; but at the same time, it establishes +the fact that Wordsworth was a true and a great poet in despite of his +theory.</p> + +<p>The great defect of Wordsworth, in our judgment, was want of sympathy +with, and knowledge of men. From his birth till his entry at college, he +lived in a region where he met with none whose minds might awaken his +sympathies, and where life was altogether uneventful. On the other hand, +that region abounded with the inert, striking, and most impressive +objects of natural scenery. The elementary grandeur and beauty of +external nature came thus to fill up his mind to the exclusion of human +interests. To such a result his individual constitution powerfully +contributed. The sensuous element was singularly deficient in his +nature. He never seems to have passed through that erotic period out of +which some poets have never emerged. A soaring, speculative imagination, +and an impetuous, resistless self-will, were his distinguishing +characteristics. From first to last he concentrated himself within +himself; brooding over his own fancies and imaginations to the +comparative disregard of the incidents and impressions which suggested +them; and was little susceptible of ideas originating in other minds. We +behold the result. He lives alone in a world of mountains, streams, and +atmospheric phenomena, dealing with moral abstractions, and rarely +encountered by even shadowy spectres of beings outwardly resembling +himself. There is measureless grandeur and power in his moral +speculations. There is intense reality in his pictures of external +nature. But though his human characters are presented with great skill +of metaphysical analysis, they have rarely life or animation. He is +always the prominent, often the exclusive, object of his own song.</p> + +<p>Upon a mind so constituted, with its psychological peculiarities so +cherished and confirmed, the fortunes and fates of others, and the +stirring events of his time, made vivid but very transient impressions. +The conversation and writings of contemporaries trained among books, and +with the faculty of speech more fully developed than that of thought, +seemed colorless and empty to one with whom natural objects and +grandeurs were always present in such overpowering force. Excluded by +his social position from taking an active part in the public events of +the day, and repelled by the emptiness of the then fashionable +literature, he turned to private and humble life as possessing at least +a reality. But he thus withheld himself from the contemplation of those +great mental excitements which only great public struggles can awaken. +He contracted a habit of exaggerating the importance of every-day +incidents and emotions. He ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span>customed himself to see in men and in +social relations only what he was predetermined to see there, and to +impute to them a value and importance derived mainly from his own +self-will. Even his natural good taste contributed to confirm him in his +error. The two prevailing schools of literature in England, at that +time, were the trashy and mouthing writers who adopted the sounding +language of Johnson and Darwin, unenlivened by the vigorous thought of +either; and the “dead-sea apes” of that inflated, sentimental, +revolutionary style which Diderot had unconsciously originated, and +Kotzebue carried beyond the verge of caricature. The right feeling and +manly thought of Wordsworth were disgusted by these shallow +word-mongers, and he flew to the other extreme. Under the +influences—repulsive and attractive—we have thus attempted to +indicate, he adopted the theory that as much of grandeur and profound +emotion was to be found in mere domestic incidents and feelings, as on +the more conspicuous stage of public life; and that a bald and naked +simplicity of language was the perfection of style. Singularly enough, +he was confirmed in these notions by the very writer of the day whose +own natural genius, more than any of his contemporaries, impelled, him +to riot in great, wild, supernatural conceptions; and to give utterance +to them in gorgeous language. Coleridge was perhaps the only +contemporary from whom Wordsworth ever took an opinion; and that he did +so from him, is mainly attributable to the fact that Coleridge did +little more than reproduce to him his own notions, sometimes rectified +by a subtler logic, but always rendered more attractive by new and +dazzling illustrations.</p> + +<p>Fortunately it is out of the power of the most perverse theory to spoil +the true poet. The poems of Wordsworth must continue to charm and +elevate mankind, in defiance of his crotchets, just as Luther, Henri +Quatre, and other living impersonations of poetry do, despite all quaint +peculiarities of the attire, the customs, or the opinions of their +respective ages, with which they were embued. The spirit of truth and +poetry redeems, ennobles, hallows, every external form in which it may +be lodged. We may “pshaw” and “pooh” at <cite>Harry Gill</cite> and the <cite>Idiot +Boy</cite>; but the deep and tremulous tenderness of sentiment, the +strong-winged flight of fancy, the excelling and unvarying purity, which +pervade all the writings of Wordsworth, and the exquisite melody of his +lyrical poems, must ever continue to attract and purify the mind. The +very excesses into which his one-sided theory betrayed him, acted as a +useful counter-agent to the prevailing bad taste of his time.</p> + +<p>The <cite>Prelude</cite> may take a permanent place as one of the most perfect of +Wordsworth’s compositions. It has much of the fearless felicity of +youth; and its imagery has the sharp and vivid outline of ideas fresh +from the brain. The subject—the development of his own great +powers—raises him above that willful dallying with trivialities which +repels us in some of his other works. And there is real vitality in the +theme, both from our anxiety to know the course of such a mind, and from +the effect of an absorbing interest in himself excluding that languor +which sometimes seized him in his efforts to impart or attribute +interest to themes possessing little or none in themselves. Its mere +narrative, though often very homely, and dealing in too many words, is +often characterized also by elevated imagination, and always by +eloquence. The bustle of London life, the prosaic uncouthness of its +exterior, the earnest heart that beats beneath it, the details even of +its commonest amusements, from Bartholomew Fair to Sadler’s Wells, are +portrayed with simple force and delicate discrimination; and for the +most part skillfully contrasted with the rural life of the poet’s native +home. There are some truthful and powerful sketches of French character +and life, in the early revolutionary era. But above all, as might have +been anticipated, Wordsworth’s heart revels in the elementary beauty and +grandeur of his mountain theme; while his own simple history is traced +with minute fidelity and is full of unflagging interest.—<cite>London +Examiner.</cite></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_10" id="Footnote_J_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_10"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> <cite>The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind; an Autobiographical Poem</cite>. By William Wordsworth. London. Moxon. New York, +Appleton & Co.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="The_literary_profession" id="The_literary_profession"></a>[From the North British Review.]</p> + +<h2>THE LITERARY PROFESSION—AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">It</span> is a common complaint that the publishers make large fortunes and +leave the authors to starve—that they are, in fact, a kind of moral +vampire, sucking the best blood of genius, and destroying others to +support themselves. A great deal of very unhealthy, one-sided cant has +been written upon this subject. Doubtless, there is much to be said on +both sides. That publishers look at a manuscript very much as a +corn-dealer looks at sample of wheat, with an eye to its selling +qualities, is not to be denied. If books are not written only to be +sold, they are printed only to be sold. Publishers must pay their +printers and their paper-merchants; and they can not compel the public +to purchase their printed paper. When benevolent printers shall be found +eager to print gratuitously works of unsalable genius, and benevolent +paper-merchants to supply paper for the same, publishers may afford to +think less of a manuscript as an article of sale—may reject with less +freedom unlikely manuscripts, and haggle less savagely about the price +of likely ones. An obvious common-place this, and said a thousand times +before, but not yet recognized by the world of writers at large. +Publishing is a trade, and, like all other trades, undertaken with the +one object of making money by it. The profits are not ordinarily large; +they are, indeed, very uncertain—so uncertain that a large proportion +of those who embark in the publishing business some time or other find +their way into the Gazette. When a publishing firm is ruined by printing +unsalable books, authors seldom or never have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span> any sympathy with a +member of it. They have, on the other hand, an idea that he is justly +punished for his offenses; and so perhaps he is, but not in the sense +understood by the majority of those who contemplate his downfall as a +retributive dispensation. The fact is, that reckless publishing is more +injurious to the literary profession than any thing in the world beside. +The cautious publisher is the author’s best friend. If a house publish +at their own risk a number of works which they can not sell, they must +either go into the Gazette at last, or make large sums of money by works +which they <em>can</em> sell. When a publisher loses money by a work, an injury +is inflicted upon the literary profession. The more money he can make by +publishing, the more he can afford to pay for authorship. It is often +said that the authors of successful works are inadequately rewarded in +proportion to their success; that publishers make their thousands, while +authors only make their hundreds. But it is forgotten that the profits +of the one successful work are often only a set-off to the losses +incurred by the publication of half a dozen unsuccessful ones. If a +publisher purchase a manuscript for £500, and the work prove to be a +“palpable hit” worth £5000, it may seem hard that the publisher does not +share his gains more equitably with the author. With regard to this it +is to be said, in the first place, that he very frequently <em>does</em>. There +is hardly a publisher in London, however “grasping” he may be, who has +not, time after time, paid to authors sums of money not “in the bond.” +But if the fact were not as we have stated it, we can hardly admit that +publishers are under any kind of obligation to exceed the strict terms +of their contracts. If a publisher gives £500 for a copyright, +expecting to sweep the same amount into his own coffers, but instead of +making that sum, loses it by the speculation, he does not ask the author +to refund—nor does the author offer to do it. The money is in all +probability spent long before the result of the venture is ascertained; +and the author would be greatly surprised and greatly indignant, if it +were hinted to him, even in the most delicate way, that the publisher +having lost money by his book, would be obliged to him if he would make +good a portion of the deficit by sending a check upon his bankers.</p> + +<p>We repeat, then, that a publisher who loses money by one man’s books, +must make it by another’s, or go into the Gazette. There are publishers +who trade entirely upon this principle, which, indeed, is a kind of +literary gambling. They publish a dozen works, we will suppose, of which +six produce an absolute loss; four just cover-their expenses; and the +other two realize a profit. The publisher, especially if he be his own +printer, may find this answer in the end; it may at least just keep him +out of the Bankruptcy Court, and supply his family with bread. But the +system can not be a really advantageous one either to publishers or +authors. To the latter, indeed, it is destruction. No inconsiderable +portion of the books published every year entail a heavy loss on author +or publisher, or on both—and the amount of this loss may be set down, +in most instances, as so much taken from the gross profits of the +literary profession. If Mr. Bungay lose a hundred pounds by the poems of +the Hon. Percy Popjoy, he has a hundred pounds less to give to Mr. +Arthur Pendennis for his novel. Instead of protesting against the +over-caution of publishers, literary men, if they really knew their own +interests, would protest against their want of caution. Authors have a +direct interest in the prosperity of publishers. The misfortune of +authorship is not that publishers make so much money, but that they make +so little. If Paternoster Row were wealthier than it is, there would be +better cheer in Grub-street.</p> + +<p>It is very true that publishers, like other men, make mistakes; and that +sometimes a really good and salable work is rejected. Many instances of +this might readily be adduced—instances of works, whose value has been +subsequently proved by extensive popularity, having been rejected by one +or more experienced member of the publishing craft. But their judgment +is on the whole remarkably correct. They determine with surprising +accuracy the market value of the greater number of works that are +offered to them. It is not supposed that in the majority of cases, the +publisher himself decides the question upon the strength of his own +judgment. He has his minister, or ministers of state, to decide these +knotty questions for him. A great deal has been written at different +times, about the baneful influence of this middleman, or “reader”—but +we can see no more justice in the complaint than if it were raised +against the system which places a middleman or minister between the +sovereign and his people. To complain of the incapacity of the publisher +himself, and to object to his obtaining the critical services of a more +competent party, were clearly an inconsistency and an injustice. If the +publisher himself be not capable of deciding upon the literary merits or +salable properties of the works laid before him, the best thing that he +can do is to secure the assistance of some one who <em>is</em>. Hence the +office of the “reader.” It is well known that in some large publishing +houses there is a resident “reader” attached to the establishment; +others are believed to lay the manuscripts offered to them for +publication before some critic of established reputation out-of-doors; +while more than one eminent publisher might be named who has trusted +solely to his own judgment, and rarely found that judgment at fault. In +either of these cases there is no reason to assume the incompetency of +the judge. Besides, as we have said, the question to be solved by the +publisher or reader, is not a purely literary question. It is mainly +indeed a commercial question; and the merits of the work are often +freely acknowledged while the venture is politely declined.</p> + +<p>Much more might be said of the relations between publishers and authors, +but we are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span> compelled to economize our space. The truth, indeed, as +regards the latter, is simply this: It is not so much that authors do +not know how to make money, as that they do not know how to spend it. +The same income that enables a clergyman, a lawyer, a medical +practitioner, a government functionary, or any other member of the +middle classes earning his livelihood by professional labor, to support +himself and his family in comfort and respectability, will seldom keep a +literary man out of debt and difficulty—seldom provide him with a +comfortable well-ordered home, creditable to himself and his profession. +It is ten to one that he lives untidily; that every thing about him is +in confusion, that the amenities of domestic life are absent from his +establishment; that he is altogether in a state of elaborate and costly +disorder, such as we are bound to say is the characteristic of no other +kind of professional life. He seldom has a settled home—a fixed +position. He appears to be constantly on the move. He seldom lives, for +any length of time, in the same place; and is rarely at home when you +call upon him. It would be instructive to obtain a return of the number +of professional writers who retain pews in church, and are to be found +there with their families on Sundays. There is something altogether +fitful, irregular, spasmodic in their way of life. And so it is with +their expenditure. They do not live like other men, and they do not +spend like other men. At one time, you would think, from their lavish +style of living, that they were worth three thousand a year; and at +another, from the privations that they undergo, and the difficulty they +find in meeting small claims upon them, that they were not worth fifty. +There is generally, indeed, large expenditure abroad, and painful +stinting at home. The “res angusta <em>domi</em>” is almost always there; but +away from his home, your literary man is often a prince and a +millionaire. Or, if he be a man of domestic habits, if he spends little +on tavern suppers, little on wine, little on cab hire, the probability +is, that he is still impulsive and improvident, still little capable of +self-denial; that he will buy a costly picture when his house-rent is +unpaid; that he will give his wife a guitar when she wants a gown; and +buy his children a rocking-horse when they are without stockings. His +house and family are altogether in an inelegant state of elegant +disorder; and with really a comfortable income, if properly managed, he +is eternally in debt.</p> + +<p>Now all this may appear very strange, but it is not wholly +unaccountable. In the <em>first</em> place, it may be assumed, as we have +already hinted, that no small proportion of those who adopt literature +as a profession have enlisted in the army of authors because they have +lacked the necessary amount of patience and perseverance—the systematic +orderly habits—the industry and the self-denial by which alone it is +possible to attain success in other paths of professional life. With +talent enough to succeed in any, they have not had sufficient method to +succeed in any. They have been trained perhaps for the bar, but wanted +assiduity to master the dry details of the law, and patience to sustain +them throughout a long round of briefless circuits. They have devoted +themselves to the study of physic, and recoiled from or broken down +under examination; or wanted the hopeful sanguine temperament which +enables a man to content himself with small beginnings, and to make his +way by a gradually widening circle to a large round of remunerative +practice. They have been intended for the Church, and drawn back in +dismay at the thought of its restraints and responsibilities; or have +entered the army, and have forsaken with impatience and disgust the slow +road to superior command.</p> + +<p>In any case, it may be assumed that the original profession has been +deserted for that of authorship, mainly because the aspirant has been +wanting in those orderly methodical habits, and that patience and +submissiveness of temperament which secure success in those departments +of professional labor which are only to be overcome by progressive +degrees. In a word, it may be often said of the man of letters, that he +is not wanting in order because he is an author, but he is an author +because he is wanting in order. He is capable of occasional paroxysms of +industry; his spasms of energy are often great and triumphant. Where +results are to be obtained <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">per saltum</span> he is equal to any thing and is +not easily to be frightened back. He has courage enough to carry a +fortress by assault, but he has not system enough to make his way by +regular approaches. He is weary of the work before he has traced out the +first parallel. In this very history of the rise of professional +authorship, we may often see the causes of its fall. The calamities of +authors are often assignable to the very circumstances that made them +authors. Wherefore is it that in many cases authors are disorderly and +improvident? simply because it is their nature to be so—because in any +other path of life they would be equally disorderly and improvident. The +want of system is not to be attributed to their profession. The evil +which we deplore arises in the first instance only from an inability to +master an inherent defect.</p> + +<p>But it must be admitted that there are many predisposing circumstances +in the environments of literary life—that many of the causes which +aggravate, if they do not originate the malady, are incidental to the +profession itself. The absolute requirements of literary labor not +unfrequently compel an irregular distribution of time and with it +irregular social and moral habits. It would be cruel to impute that as a +fault to the literary laborer which is in reality his misfortune. We who +lay our work once every quarter before the public, and they who once a +year, or less frequently, present themselves with their comely octavo +volumes of fiction or biography—history or science—to the reading +world, may dine at home every day with their children, ring the bell at +ten o’clock for family prayers, rise early<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span> and retire early every day, +and with but few deviations throughout the year, regularly toil through, +with more or less of the afflatus upon them, their apportioned hours of +literary labor; but a large proportion of the literary practitioners of +the age are connected, in some capacity or other, with the newspaper +press; they are the slaves of time, not its masters; and must bend +themselves to circumstances, however repugnant to the will. Late hours +are unfortunately a condition of press life. The sub-editors, the +summary writers, the reporters; the musical and theatrical critics, and +many of the leading-article writers are compelled to keep late hours. +Their work is not done till past—in many cases till <em>long</em> +past—midnight; and it can not be done at home. It is a very unhappy +condition of literary life that it so often compels night-work. +Night-work of this kind seems to demand a resource to stimulants; and +the exigencies of time and place compel a man to betake himself to the +most convenient tavern. Much that we read in the morning papers, +wondering at the rapidity with which important intelligence or +interesting criticism is laid before us, is written, after midnight, at +some contiguous tavern, or in the close atmosphere of a reporter’s room, +which compels a subsequent resort to some house of nocturnal +entertainment. If, weary with work and rejoicing in the thought of its +accomplishment, the literary laborer, in the society perhaps of two or +three of his brethren, betakes himself to a convenient supper house, and +there spends on a single meal, what would keep himself and his family in +comfort throughout the next day, perhaps it is hardly just to judge him +too severely; at all events, it is right that we should regard the +suffering, and weigh the temptation. What to us, in many cases, “seems +vice may be but woe.” It is hard to keep to this night-work and to live +an orderly life. If a man from choice, not from necessity, turns night +into day, and day into night (we have known literary men who have +willfully done so), we have very little pity for him. The shattered +nerves—the disorderly home—the neglected business—the accounts unkept +and the bills unpaid, which are the necessary results of nights of +excitement and days of languor, are then to be regarded as the +consequences not of the misfortunes, but the faults of the sufferer. It +is a wretched way of life any how.</p> + +<p>Literary men are sad spendthrifts, not only of their money, but of +themselves. At an age when other men are in the possession of vigorous +faculties of mind and strength of body, they are often used-up, +enfeebled, and only capable of effort under the influence of strong +stimulants. If a man has the distribution of his own time—if his +literary avocations are of that nature that they can be followed at +home—if they demand only continuous effort, there is no reason why the +waste of vital energy should be greater in his case than in that of the +follower of any other learned profession. A man soon discovers to what +extent he can safely and profitably tax his powers. To do well in the +world he must economize himself no less than his money. Rest is often a +good investment. A writer at one time is competent to do twice as much +and twice as well as at another; and if his leisure be well employed, +the few hours of labor will be more productive than the many, at the +time; and the faculty of labor will remain with him twice as long. Rest +and recreation, fresh air and bodily exercise, are essential to an +author, and he will do well never to neglect them. But there are +professional writers who can not regulate their hours of labor, and +whose condition of life it is to toil at irregular times and in an +irregular manner. It is difficult, we know, for them to abstain from +using themselves up prematurely. Repeated paroxysms of fever wear down +the strongest frames; and many a literary man is compelled to live a +life of fever, between excitement and exhaustion of the mind. We would +counsel all public writers to think well of the best means of +economizing themselves—the best means of spending their time off duty. +Rest and recreation, properly applied, will do much to counteract the +destroying influences of spasmodic labor at unseasonable hours, and to +ward off premature decay. But if they apply excitement of one kind to +repair the ravages of excitement of another kind, they must be content +to live a life of nervous irritability, and to grow old before their +time.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BROTHERS_CHEERYBLE" id="THE_BROTHERS_CHEERYBLE"></a>THE BROTHERS CHEERYBLE.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">William</span> and Charles Grant were the sons of a farmer in Inverness-shire, +whom a sudden flood stript of every thing, even to the very soil which +he tilled. The farmer and his son William made their way southward, +until they arrived in the neighborhood of Bury, in Lancashire, and there +found employment in a print work, in which William served his +apprenticeship. It is said that, when they reached the spot near which +they ultimately settled, and arrived at the crown of the hill near +Walmesley, they were in doubt as to what course was best next to be +pursued. The surrounding country lay disclosed before them, the river +Irwell making its circuitous way through the valley. What was to be done +to induce their decision as to the route they were to take to their +future home? A stick was put up, and where it fell, in that direction +would they betake themselves. And thus their decision was made, and they +betook themselves toward the village of Ramsbotham, not far distant. In +this place, these men pitched their tent, and in the course of many long +years of industry, enterprise, and benevolence, they accumulated nearly +a million sterling of money; earning, meanwhile, the good-will of +thousands, the gratitude of many, and the respect of all who knew them. +They afterward erected, on the top of the hill overlooking Walmesley, a +lofty tower, in commemoration of the fortunate choice they had made, and +not improbably as a kind of public thank-offering for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span> signal +prosperity they had reaped. Cotton mills, and print works, were built by +them of great extent, employing an immense number of hands; and they +erected churches, founded schools, and gave a new life to the district. +Their well-directed diligence made the valley teem with industry, +activity, health, joy, and opulence; they never forgot the class from +which they themselves had sprung, that of working-men, whose hands had +mainly contributed to their aggrandizement, and, therefore, they spared +no expense in the moral, intellectual, and physical interests of their +work-people.</p> + +<p>A brief anecdote or two will serve to show what manner of men these +Grants were, and that Dickens, in his Brothers Cheeryble, has been +guilty of no exaggeration. Many years ago, a warehouseman published an +exceedingly scurrilous pamphlet against the firm of Grant Brothers, +holding up the elder partner to ridicule as “Billy Button.” William was +informed by some “kind friend,” of the existence and nature of the +pamphlet, and his observation was, that the man would live to repent of +its publication. “Oh!” said the libeler, when informed of this remark, +“he thinks that some time or other I shall be in his debt, but I will +take good care of that.” It happens, however, that the man in business +does not always know who shall be his creditor. It turned out that the +libeler shortly became bankrupt, and the brothers held an acceptance of +his, which had been indorsed by the drawer who had also become bankrupt. +The wantonly libeled men had now an opportunity of revenging themselves +upon the libeler, for he could not obtain his certificate without their +signature, and without that he could not again commence business. But it +seemed to the bankrupt to be a hopeless case to expect that, they would +give their signature—they whom he had so wantonly held up to public +ridicule. The claims of a wife and children, however, at last forced him +to make the application. He presented himself at the counting-house +door, and found that “Billy Button” was in. He entered, and William +Grant, who was alone, rather sternly bid him, “shut the door, sir!” The +libeler trembled before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his +certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. “You +wrote a pamphlet against us once,” exclaimed Mr. Grant. The supplicant +expected to see his parchment thrown into the fire; instead of which, +Mr. Grant took a pen, and writing something on the document, handed it +back to the supplicant, who expected to find written upon it “rogue, +scoundrel, libeler,” instead of which, there was written only the +signature of the firm, completing the bankrupt’s certificate. “We make +it a rule,” said Mr. Grant, “never to refuse signing the certificate of +an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing +else.” The tears started into the poor man’s eyes. “Ah!” continued Mr. +Grant, “my saying was true, I said you would live to repent writing +that pamphlet, I did not mean it as a threat, I only meant that some day +you would know us better, and repent that you had tried to injure us; I +see you repent it now.” “I do, I do,” said the grateful man, “I do, +indeed, bitterly repent it.” “Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us +now. How do you get on? What are you going to do?” The poor man stated +that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was +obtained. “But how are you off in the mean time?” and the answer was +that, having given up every farthing to his creditors, he had been +compelled to stint his family of even the common necessaries of life, +that he might be enabled to pay the cost of his certificate. “My dear +fellow, this will never do, your wife and family must not suffer; be +kind enough to take this ten-pound note to your wife from me—there, +there, my dear fellow—nay, don’t cry—it will all be well with you yet; +keep up your spirits, set to work like a man, and you will raise your +head among us yet.” The overpowered man endeavored in vain to express +his thanks—the swelling in his throat forbade words; he put his hand to +his face, and went out of the door crying like a child.</p> + +<p>In company with a gentleman who had written and lectured much on the +advantages of early religious, moral, and intellectual training, Mr +Grant asked—“Well, how do you go on in establishing schools for +infants?” The reply was, “Very encouragingly indeed; wherever I have +gone, I have succeeded either in inducing good people to establish them, +or in procuring better support to those that are already established. +But I must give over my labors, for, what with printing bills, +coach-fare, and other expenses, every lecture I deliver in any +neighboring town, costs me a sovereign, and I can not afford to ride my +hobby such a rate.” He said, “You must not give over your labors; God +has blessed them with success; He has blessed you with talents, and me +with wealth, if you give your time, I ought to give my money. You must +oblige me by taking this twenty-pound note, and spending it in promoting +the education of the poor.” The twenty-pound note was taken, and so +spent; and probably a thousand children are now enjoying the benefit of +the impulse that was thus given to a mode of instruction as delightful +as it was useful.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grant was waited on by two gentlemen, who were raising a +subscription for the widow of a respectable, man, who, some years before +his death, had been unfortunate in business. “We lost £200 by him,” said +Mr. Grant; “and how do you expect I should subscribe, for his widow?” +“Because,” answered one of them, “what you have lost by the husband does +not alter the widow’s claim on your benevolence.” “Neither it shall,” +said he, “here are five pounds, and if you can not make up the sum you +want for her, come to me, and I’ll give you more.”</p> + +<p>Many other anecdotes, equally characteristic of the kind nature of +William Grant, could be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span> added. For fifteen years did he and his brother +Charles ride into Manchester on market days, seated side-by-side, +looking of all things like a pair of brothers, happy in themselves, and +in each other. William died a few years ago, and was followed to the +grave by many blessings. The firm still survives, and supports its +former character. Long may the merchant princes of England continue to +furnish such beautiful specimens of humanity as the now famous Brothers +Cheeryble!—<cite>Chambers’ Edinburgh Journal</cite>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="Writing_For_Periodicals" id="Writing_For_Periodicals"></a>[From the North British Review.]</p> + +<h2>WRITING FOR PERIODICALS.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Lord lyndhurst</span> once said, at a public dinner, with reference to the +numberless marvels of the press, that it might seem a very easy thing to +write a leading article, but that he would recommend any one with strong +convictions on that point, only to <em>try</em>. We confidently appeal to the +experience of all the conductors of the leading journals of Great +Britain, from the quarterly reviews to the daily journals, convinced +that they will all tell the same unvarying tale of the utter +incompetency of thousands of very clever people to write articles, +review books, &c. They will all have the same experiences to relate of +the marvelous failures of men of genius and learning—the crude cumbrous +state in which they have sent their so-called articles for +publication—the labor it has taken to mould their fine thoughts and +valuable erudition into comely shape—the utter impossibility of doing +it at all. As Mr. Carlyle has written of the needle-women of England, it +is the saddest thing of all, that there should be sempstresses few or +none, but “botchers” in such abundance, capable only of “a distracted +puckering and botching—not sewing—only a fallacious hope of it—a fond +imagination of the mind;” so of literary labor is it the saddest thing +of all, that there should be so many botchers in the world, and so few +skilled article-writers—so little article-writing, and so much +“distracted puckering and botching.” There may be nothing in this +article-writing, when once we know how to do it, as there is nothing in +balancing a ladder on one’s chin, or jumping through a hoop, or +swallowing a sword. All we say is, if people think it easy, let them +try, and abide by the result. The amateur articles of very clever people +are generally what an amateur effort at coat-making would be. It may +seem a very easy thing to make a coat; but very expert +craftsmen—craftsmen that can produce more difficult and elaborate +pieces of workmanship, fail utterly when they come to a coat. The only +reason why they can not make a coat is, that they are not tailors. Now +there are many very able and learned men, who can compass greater +efforts of human intellect than the production of a newspaper article, +but who can not write a newspaper at all, because they we not +newspaper-writers, or criticise a book with decent effect, because they +are not critics. Article-writing comes “by art not chance.” The efforts +of chance writers, if they be men of genius and learning, are things to +break one’s heart over.</p> + +<p>It is not enough to think and to know. It requires the faculty of +utterance, and a peculiar kind of utterance. Certain things are to be +said in a certain manner; and your amateur article-writer is sure to say +them in any manner but the right. Perhaps of all styles of writing there +is none in which excellency is so rarely attained as that of +newspaper-writing. A readable leading article may not be a work of the +loftiest order, or demand for its execution the highest attributes of +genius; but, whatever it may be, the power of accomplishing it with +success is not shared by “thousands of clever fellows.” Thousands of +clever fellows, fortified by Mr. Thackeray’s opinion, may think that +they could write the articles which they read in the morning journals; +but let them take pen and paper and <em>try</em>.</p> + +<p>We think it only fair that professional authors should have the credit +of being able to do what other people can not. They do not claim to +themselves a monoply of talent. They do not think themselves capable of +conducting a case in a court of law, as cleverly as a queen’s counsel, +or of getting a sick man through the typhus fever as skillfully as a +practiced physician. But it is hard that they should not receive credit +for being able to write better articles than either the one or the +other; or, perhaps it is more to the purpose to say, than the briefless +lawyers and patientless medical students who are glad to earn a guinea +by their pens. Men are not born article-writers any more than they are +born doctors of law, or doctors of physic; as the ludicrous failures, +which are every day thrown into the rubbish-baskets of all our newspaper +offices, demonstrate past all contradiction. Incompetency is manifested +in a variety of ways, but an irrepressible tendency to fine writing is +associated with the greater number of them. Give a clever young medical +student a book about aural or dental surgery to review, and the chances +are ten to one that the criticism will be little else than a high-flown +grandiloquent treatise on the wonders of the creation. A regular +“literary hack” will do the thing much better.</p> + +<p>If there be any set of men—we can not call it a <em>class</em>, for it is +drawn from all classes—who might be supposed to possess’ a certain +capacity for periodical writing, it is the fraternity of members of +Parliament. They are in the habit of selecting given subjects for +consideration—of collecting facts and illustrations—of arranging +arguments—and of expressing themselves after a manner. They are for the +most part men of education, of a practical turn of mind, well acquainted +with passing events, and, in many instances, in possession just of that +kind of available talent which is invaluable to periodical writers. But +very few of them can write an article, either for a newspaper or a +review, without inflicting immense trouble upon the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span> editor. Sometimes +the matter it contains will be worth the pains bestowed upon it; but it +very often happens that it is <em>not</em>. It is one thing to make a +speech—another to write an article. But the speech often, no less than +the article, requires editorial supervision. The reporter is the +speaker’s editor, and a very efficient one too. In a large number of +cases, the speaker owes more to the reporter than he would willingly +acknowledge. The speech as spoken would often be unreadable, but that +the reporter finishes the unfinished sentences, and supplies meanings +which are rather suggested than expressed. It would be easy to name +members who are capable of writing admirable articles; but many of them +owe their position in the House to some antecedent connection with the +press, or have become, in some manner regularly “connected with the +press;” and have acquired, by long practice, the capacity of +article-writing. But take any half-dozen members indiscriminately out of +the House, and set them down to write articles on any subject which they +may have just heard debated, and see how grotesque will be their +efforts? They may be very “clever fellows,” but that they can write +articles as well as men whose profession it is to write them, we take +upon ourselves emphatically to deny.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ANECDOTE_OF_LORD_CLIVE" id="ANECDOTE_OF_LORD_CLIVE"></a>ANECDOTE OF LORD CLIVE.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Although</span> of a gloomy temperament, and from the earliest age evincing +those characteristics of pride and shyness which rendered him unsocial, +and therefore unpopular in general society, this nobleman, in the +private walks of life, was amiable, and peculiarly disinterested. While +in India, his correspondence with those of his own family, evinced in a +remarkable degree those right and kindly feelings which could hardly +have been expected from Clive, considering the frowardness of early life +and the inflexible sternness of more advanced age. When the foundation +of his fortune was laid. Lord Clive evinced a praiseworthy recollection +of the friends of his early days. He bestowed an annuity of £800 on his +parents, while to other relations and friends he was proportionately +liberal. He was a devotedly attached husband, as his letters to Lady +Clive bear testimony. Her maiden name was Maskelyne, sister to the +eminent mathematician, so called, who long held the post of astronomer +royal. This marriage, which took place in 1752, with the circumstances +attending it, are somewhat singular, and worth recording: Clive, who was +at that period just twenty-seven, had formed a previous friendship with +one of the lady’s brothers, like himself a resident at Madras. The +brother and sister, it appears, kept up an affectionate and constant +correspondence—that is, as constant an interchange of epistolary +communication as could be accomplished nearly a century ago, when the +distance between Great Britain and the East appeared so much more +formidable, and the facilities of postal conveyance so comparatively +tardy. The epistles of the lady, through the partiality of her brother, +were frequently shown to Clive, and they bespoke her to be what from all +accounts she was—a woman of very superior understanding, and of much +amiability of character. Clive was charmed with her letters, for in +those days, be it remembered, the fair sex were not so familiarized to +the pen as at the present period. At that time, to indite a really good +epistle as to penmanship and diction, was a formidable task, and what +few ladies, comparatively speaking, could attain to. The accomplished +sister of Dr. Maskelyne was one of the few exceptions, and so strongly +did her epistolary powers attract the interest, and gain for her the +affections of Clive, that it ended by his offering to marry the young +lady, if she could be induced to visit her brother at Madras. The +latter, through whom the suggestion was to be made, hesitated, and +seemed inclined to discourage the proposition; but Clive in this +instance evinced that determination of purpose which was so strong a +feature in his character. He could urge, too, with more confidence a +measure on which so much of his happiness depended—for he was now no +longer the poor neglected boy, sent out to seek his fortune, but one who +had already acquired a fame which promised future greatness. In short, +he would take no refusal; and then was the brother of Miss Maskelyne +forced to own, that highly as his sister was endowed with every mental +qualification, nature had been singularly unfavorable to her—personal +attractions she had none. The future hero of Plassy was not, however, to +be deterred—but he made this compromise: If the lady could be prevailed +upon to visit India, and that neither party, on a personal acquaintance, +felt disposed for a nearer connection, the sum of £5000 was to be +presented to her. With this understanding all scruples were overcome. +Miss Maskelyne went out to India, and immediately after became the wife +of Clive, who, already prejudiced in her favor, is said to have +expressed himself surprised that she should ever have been represented +to him as plain. So much for the influence of mind and manner over mere +personal endowments. With the sad end of this distinguished general +every reader is familiar. His lady survived the event by many years, and +lived to a benevolent and venerable old age.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="source"><a name="The_Imprisoned_Lady" id="The_Imprisoned_Lady"></a>[From The Ladies’ Companion.]</p> + +<h2>THE IMPRISONED LADY.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">We</span> derive the following curious passage of life one hundred years since, +from the second Series of Mr. Burke’s “Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:”</p> + +<p>Lady Cathcart was one of the four daughters of Mr. Malyn, of Southwark +and Battersea, in Surrey. She married four times, but never had any +issue. Her first husband was James Fleet, Esq., of the City of London, +Lord of the Manor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span> of Tewing; her second, Captain Sabine, younger +brother of General Joseph Sabine, of Quinohall; her third, Charles, +eighth Lord Cathcart, of the kingdom of Scotland, Commander-in-Chief of +the Forces in the West Indies; and her fourth,<a name="FNanchor_K_11" id="FNanchor_K_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_11" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> Hugh Macguire, an +officer in the Hungarian service, for whom she bought a +lieutenant-colonel’s commission in the British army, and whom she also +survived. She was not encouraged, however, by his treatment, to verify +the resolution, which she inscribed as a posy on her wedding-ring:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“If I survive,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I will have five.”<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Her avowed motives for these several engagements were, for the first, +obedience to her parents; for the second, money; for the third, title; +and for the fourth, submission to the fact that “the devil owed her a +grudge, and would punish her for her sins.” In the last union she met +with her match. The Hibernian fortune-hunter wanted only her money. Soon +after their marriage, she discovered her grievous mistake, and became +alarmed lest the colonel, who was desperately in love, not with the +widow, but with the “widow’s jointured land,” designed to carry her off, +and to get absolute power over all her property; to prepare for the +worst, her ladyship plaited some of her jewels in her hair, and quilted +others in her petticoat. Meanwhile the mistress of the colonel so far +insinuated herself into his wife’s confidence that she learned where her +will was deposited; and Macguire getting sight of it, insisted on an +alteration in his favor, under a threat of instant death. Lady +Cathcart’s apprehensions of the loss of her personal freedom proved to +be not without foundation; one morning, when she and her husband went +out from Tewing to take an airing, she proposed, after a time, to +return, but he desired to go a little further. The coachman drove on; +she remonstrated, “they should not be back by dinner-time.” “Be not the +least uneasy on that account,” rejoined Macguire; “we do not dine to-day +at Tewing, but at Chester, whither we are journeying.” Vain were all the +lady’s efforts and expostulations. Her sudden disappearance excited the +alarm of her friends, and an attorney was sent in pursuit, with a writ +of <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">habeas corpus</span> or <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">ne exeat regno</span>. He overtook the travelers at an +inn at Chester, and succeeding in obtaining an interview with the +husband, demanded a sight of Lady Cathcart. The colonel, skilled in +expedients, and aware that his wife’s person was unknown, assured the +attorney that he should see her ladyship immediately, and he would find +that she was going to Ireland with her own free consent. Thereupon +Macguire persuaded a woman, whom he had properly tutored, to personate +his wife. The attorney asked the supposed captive, if she accompanied +Colonel Macguire to Ireland of her own good-will? “Perfectly so,” said +the woman. Astonished at such an answer, he begged pardon, made a low +bow, and set out again for London. Macguire thought that possibly Mr. +Attorney might recover his senses, find how he had been deceived, and +yet stop his progress; and in order to make all safe, he sent two or +three fellows after him, with directions to plunder him of all he had, +particularly of his papers. They faithfully executed their commission; +and when the colonel had the writ in his possession, he knew that he was +safe. He then took my lady over to Ireland, and kept her there, a +prisoner, locked up in his own house at Tempo, in Fermanagh, for many +years; during which period he was visited by the neighboring gentry, and +it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady +Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honor to drink her +ladyship’s health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at +table that she would like to eat? The answer was always—“Lady +Cathcart’s compliments, and she has every thing she wants.” An instance +of honesty in a poor Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart +had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her +husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he +should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to whom she +could intrust them, but she had observed a beggar who used to come to +the house, she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was +confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart +threw a parcel, containing the jewels, to her.</p> + +<p>The poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed; +and several years afterward, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, +she received her diamonds safely. At Colonel Macguire’s death, which +occurred in 1764, her ladyship was released. When she was first informed +of the fact, she imagined that the news could not be true, and that it +was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At the time of her +deliverance she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore a +red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupefied: she said +that she scarcely knew one human creature from another: her imprisonment +had lasted nearly twenty years. The moment she regained her freedom she +hastened to England, to her house at Tewing, but the tenant, a Mr. +Joseph Steele, refusing to render up possession, Lady Cathcart had to +bring an action of ejectment, attended the assizes in person, and gained +the cause. At Tewing she continued to reside for the remainder of her +life. The only subsequent notice we find of her is, that, at the age of +eighty, she took part in the gayeties of the Welwyn Assembly, and danced +with the spirit of a girl. She did not die until 1789, when she was in +her ninety-eighth year.</p> + +<p>In the mansion-house of Tempo, now the property of Sir John Emerson +Tennent, the room is still shown in which Lady Cathcart was imprisoned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_11" id="Footnote_K_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_11"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> Lady Cathcart’s marriage to Macguire took place 18th May, +1745.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_AND_SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY" id="LITERARY_AND_SCIENTIFIC_MISCELLANY"></a>LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY.</h2> + +<h3>FROM OUR FOREIGN FILES, AND UNPUBLISHED BOOKS.</h3> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">Sidney smith’s</span> account of the origin of the <cite>Edinburgh Review</cite> is well +known. The following statement was written by Lord Jeffrey, at the +request of Robert Chambers, in November, 1846, and is now first made +public: “I can not say exactly where the project of the <cite>Edinburgh +Review</cite> was first talked of among the projectors. But the first serious +consultations about it—and which led to our application to a +publisher—were held in a small house, where I then lived, in +<em>Buccleugh-place</em> (I forget the number). They were attended by S. Smith, +F. Horner, Dr. Thomas Brown, Lord Murray, and some of them also by Lord +Webb Seymour, Dr. John Thomson, and Thomas Thomson. The first three +numbers were given to the publisher—he taking the risk and defraying +the charges. There was then no individual editor, but as many of us as +could be got to attend used to meet in a dingy room of Willson’s +printing office, in Craig’s Close, where the proofs of our own articles +were read over and remarked upon, and attempts made also to sit in +judgment on the few manuscripts which were then offered by strangers. +But we had seldom patience to go through with this; and it was soon +found necessary to have a responsible editor, and the office was pressed +upon me. About the same time Constable was told that he must allow ten +guineas a sheet to the contributors, to which he at once assented; and +not long after, the <em>minimum</em> was raised to sixteen guineas, at which it +remained during my reign. Two-thirds of the articles were paid much +higher—averaging, I should think, from twenty to twenty-five guineas a +sheet on the whole number. I had, I might say, an unlimited discretion +in this respect, and must do the publishers the justice to say that they +never made the slightest objection. Indeed, as we all knew that they had +(for a long time at least) a very great profit, they probably felt that +they were at our mercy. Smith was by far the most timid of the +confederacy, and believed that, unless our incognito was strictly +maintained, we could not go on a day; and this was his object for making +us hold our dark divans at Willson’s office, to which he insisted on our +repairing singly, and by back approaches or different lanes! He also had +so strong an impression of Brougham’s indiscretion and rashness, that he +would not let him be a member of our association, though wished for by +all the rest. He was admitted, however, after the third number, and did +more work for us than any body. Brown took offense at some alterations +Smith had made in a trifling article of his in the second number, and +left us thus early; publishing at the same time in a magazine the fact +of his secession—a step which we all deeply regretted, and thought +scarcely justified by the provocation. Nothing of the kind occurred ever +after.”</p> + +<p>Constable soon remunerated the editor with a liberality corresponding to +that with which contributors were treated. From 1803 to 1809 Jeffrey +received 200 guineas for editing each number. For the ensuing three +years, the account-books are missing; but from 1813 to 1826 he is +credited £700 for editing each number.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The “<cite>Economist</cite>” closes an article upon the late Sir <span class="smcap">Robert Peel</span> with +the following just and eloquent summation:</p> + +<p>“Sir Robert was a scholar, and a liberal and discerning patron of the +arts. Though not social, he was a man of literary interests and of +elegant and cultivated taste. Possessed of immense wealth, with every +source and avenue of enjoyment at his command, it is no slight merit in +him that he preferred to such refined enjoyment the laborious service of +his country. He was no holiday or <span class="for" lang="it" xml:lang="it">dillettanti</span> statesman. His industry +was prodigious, and he seemed actually to love work. His toil in the +memorable six months of 1835 was something absolutely prodigious; in +1842 and 1843 scarcely less so. His work was always done in a masterly +and business-like style, which testified to the conscientious diligence +he had bestowed upon it. His measures rarely had to be altered or +modified in their passage through the House. In manners he was always +decorous—never over-bearing or insulting, and if ever led by the heat +of contest into any harsh or unbecoming expression, was always prompt to +apologize or retract. By his unblemished private character, by his +unrivaled administrative ability, by his vast public services, his +unvarying moderation, he had impressed not only England but the world at +large with a respect and confidence such as few attain. After many +fluctuations of repute, he had at length reached an eminence on which he +stood—independent of office, independent of party—one of the +acknowledged potentates of Europe; face to face, in the evening of life, +with his work and his reward—his work, to aid the progress of those +principles on which, after much toil, many sacrifices, and long groping +toward the light, he had at length laid a firm grasp; his guerdon, to +watch their triumph. Nobler occupation man could not aspire to; sublimer +power no ambition need desire; greater earthly reward, God, out of all +the riches of his boundless treasury has not to bestow.”</p> + +<p>Numerous projects for monuments to the deceased statesman have been +broached. In reference to these, and to the poverty of thought,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span> and +waste of means, which in the present age builds for all time with +materials so perishable as statues, a correspondent of the <cite>Athenæum</cite> +suggests, as a more intelligent memorial, the foundation of a national +university for the education of the sons of the middle classes. Ours, he +says, are not the days for copying the forms of ancient Rome as +interpreters of feelings and inspirations which the Romans never knew. +While the statues which they reared are dispersed, and the columns they +erected are crumbling to decay, their thoughts, as embodied in their +literature, are with us yet, testifying forever of the great spirits +which perished from among them, but left, in this sure and abiding form, +the legacy of their minds.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The effect upon civilization of the Ownership of the Land being in the +hands of a few, or of the many, has been earnestly discussed by writers +on political and social economy. Two books have recently been published +in England, which have an important bearing upon this subject. One is by +<span class="smcap">Samuel Laing</span>, Esq. the well known traveler, and the other by <span class="smcap">Joseph Kay</span>, +Esq. of Cambridge. Both these writers testify that in the continental +countries which they have examined—more especially in Germany, France, +Holland, Belgium and Switzerland—they have found a state of society +which does fulfill in a very eminent degree all the conditions of a most +advanced civilization. They have found in those countries education, +wealth, comfort, and self-respect; and they have found that the whole +body of the people in those countries participate in the enjoyment of +these great blessings to an extent which very far exceeds the +participation in them of the great mass of the population of England. +These two travelers perfectly agree in the declaration that during the +last-thirty or forty years the inequality of social condition among +men—the deterioration toward two great classes of very rich and very +poor—has made very little progress in the continental states with which +they are familiar. They affirm that a class of absolute paupers in any +degree formidable from its numbers has yet to be created in those +states. They represent in the most emphatic language the immense +superiority in education, manners, conduct, and the supply of the +ordinary wants of a civilized being, of the German, Swiss, Dutch, +Belgian and French peasantry over the peasantry and poorer classes not +only of Ireland, but also of England and Scotland. This is the general +and the most decided result with reference to the vital question of the +condition and prospects of the peasantry and poorer classes, neither Mr. +Laing nor Mr. Kay have any doubt whatever that the advantage rests in +the most marked manner with the continental states which they have +examined over Great Britain. According to Mr. Laing and Mr. Kay, the +cause of this most important difference is—<em>the distribution of the +ownership of land</em>. On the continent, the people <em>own</em> and <em>cultivate</em> +the land. In the British islands the land is held in large masses by a +few persons; the class practically employed in agriculture are either +<em>tenants</em> or <em>laborers</em>, who do not act under the stimulus of a personal +interest in the soil they cultivate.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A self-taught artist named Carter has recently died at Coggshall, Essex, +where he had for many years resided. He was originally a farm laborer, +and by accident lost the power of every part of his body but the head +and neck. By the force of perseverance and an active mind, however, he +acquired the power of drawing and painting, by holding the pencil +between his lips and teeth, when placed there by the kind offices of an +affectionate sister. In this manner he had not only whiled away the +greater part of fourteen years of almost utter physical helplessness, +but has actually produced works which have met with high commendation. +His groups and compositions are said to have been “most delicately +worked and highly finished.” The poor fellow had contemplated the +preparation of some grand work for the International Exhibition, but the +little of physical life remaining in him was lately extinguished by a +new accident.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Conversation of Literary Men</span>.—Literary men talk less than they did. +They seldom “lay out” much for conversation. The conversational, like +the epistolary age, is past; and we have come upon the age of periodical +literature. People neither put their best thoughts and their available +knowledge into their letters, nor keep them for evening conversation. +The literary men of 1850 have a keener eye to the value of their +stock-in-trade, and keep it well garnered up, for conversion, as +opportunity offers, into the current coin of the realm. There is some +periodical vehicle, nowadays, for the reception of every possible kind +of literary ware. The literary man converses now through the medium of +the Press, and turns every thing into copyright at once. He can not +afford to drop his ideas by the way-side; he must keep them to himself, +until the printing-press has made them inalienably his own. If a happy +historical or literary illustration occurs to him, it will do for a +review article; if some un-hackneyed view of a great political question +presents itself to him, it may be worked into his next leader; if some +trifling adventure has occurred to him, or he has picked up a novel +anecdote in the course of his travels, it may be reproduced in a page of +magazine matter, or a column of a cheap weekly serial. Even puns are not +to be distributed gratis. There is a property in a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">double-entente</span>, +which its parent will not willingly forego. The smallest jokelet is a +marketable commodity. The dinner-table is sacrificed to <cite>Punch</cite>. There +is too much competition in these days, too many hungry candidates for +the crumbs that fall from the thinker’s table, not to make him chary of +his offerings. In these days, every scrap of knowledge—every happy +thought—every felicitous turn of expression, is of some value to a +literary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span> man; the forms of periodical literature are so many and so +varied. He can seldom afford to give any thing away; and there is no +reason why he should. It is not so easy a thing to turn one’s ideas into +bread, that a literary man need be at no pains to preserve his property +in them. We do not find that artists give away their sketches, or that +professional singers perform promiscuously at private parties. Perhaps, +in these days of much publishing, professional authors are wise in +keeping the best of themselves for their books and articles. We have +known professional writers talk criticism; but we have generally found +it to be the very reverse of what they have published.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rewards of Literature</span>.—Literature has been treated with much +ingratitude, even by those who owe most to it. If we do not quite say +with Goldsmith, that it supports many dull fellows in opulence, we may +assert, with undeniable truth, that it supports, or ought to support, +many clever ones in comfort and respectability. If it does not it is +less the fault of the profession than the professors themselves. There +are many men now in London, Edinburgh, and other parts of the country, +earning from £1000 to £300 per annum by their literary labors, and some, +with very little effort, earning considerably more. It is no part of our +plan in the present article to mix up modern instances with our wise +saws, else might we easily name writers who, for contributions to the +periodical press, for serial installments of popular tales, and other +literary commodities, demanding no very laborious efforts of +intellectual industry, have received from flourishing newspaper +proprietors and speculative booksellers, sums of money which it would be +difficult to earn with equal facility in any other learned profession. +An appointment on the editorial staff of a leading daily paper is in +itself a small fortune to a man. The excellence of the articles is, for +the most part, in proportion to the sum paid for them; and a successful +morning journal will generally find it good policy to pay its +contributors in such a manner as to secure the entire produce of their +minds, or, at all events, to get the best fruits that they are capable +of yielding. If a man can earn a comfortable independence by writing +three or four leading articles a week, there is no need that he should +have his pen ever in his hand, that he should be continually toiling at +other and less profitable work. But if he is to keep himself ever fresh +and ever vigorous for one master he must be paid for it. There are +instances of public writers who had shown evident signs of exhaustion +when employed on one paper—who had appeared, indeed, to have written +themselves out so thoroughly, that the proprietors were fain to dispense +with their future services—transferring those services to another +paper, under more encouraging circumstances of renumeration, and, as +though endued with new life, striking out articles fresh, vigorous, and +brilliant. They gave themselves to the one paper; they had only given a +part of themselves to the other.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Schamyl</span>, the Prophet of the Caucasus, through whose inspiriting +leadership the Caucasians have maintained a successful struggle against +the gigantic power of Russia for many years, is described by a recent +writer as a man of middle stature; he has light hair, gray eyes, shaded +by bushy and well-arched eyebrows; a nose finely moulded, and a small +mouth. His features are distinguished from those of his race by a +peculiar fairness of complexion and delicacy of skin: the elegant form +of his hands and feet is not less remarkable. The apparent stiffness of +his arms, when he walks, is a sign of his stern and impenetrable +character His address is thoroughly noble and dignified. Of himself he +is completely master; and he exerts a tacit supremacy over all who +approach him. An immovable, stony calmness, which never forsakes him, +even in moments of the utmost danger, broods over his countenance. He +passes a sentence of death with the same composure with which he +distributes “the sabre of honor” to his bravest Murids, after a bloody +encounter. With traitors or criminals whom he has resolved to destroy he +will converse without betraying the least sign of anger or vengeance. He +regards himself as a mere instrument in the hands of a higher Being; and +holds, according to the Sufi doctrine, that all his thoughts and +determinations are immediate inspirations from God. The flow of his +speech is as animating and irresistible as his outward appearance is +awful and commanding. “He shoots flames from his eyes and scatters +flowers from his lips,” said Bersek Bey, who sheltered him for some days +after the fall of Achulgo, when Schamyl dwelt for some time among the +princes of the Djighetes and Ubiches, for the purpose of inciting the +tribes on the Black Sea to rise against the Russians. Schamyl is now +fifty years old, but still full of vigor and strength; it is however +said, that he has for some years past suffered from an obstinate disease +of the eyes, which is constantly growing worse. He fills the intervals +of leisure which his public charges allow him, in reading the Koran, +fasting, and prayer. Of late years he has but seldom, and then only on +critical occasions, taken a personal share in warlike encounters. In +spite of his almost supernatural activity, Schamyl is excessively severe +and temperate in his habits. A few hours of sleep are enough for him; at +times he will watch for the whole night, without showing the least trace +of fatigue on the following day. He eats little, and water is his only +beverage. According to Mohammedan custom, he keeps several wives. In +1844 he had <em>three</em>, of which his favorite (Pearl of the Harem, as she +was called) was an Armenian, of exquisite beauty.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A Frankfort journal states that the colossal statue of Bavaria, by +Schwanthaler, which is to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span> be placed on the hill of Seudling, surpasses +in its gigantic proportions all the works of the moderns. It will have +to be removed in pieces from the foundry where it is cast to its place +of destination, and each piece will require sixteen horses to draw it. +The great toes are each half a mètre in length. In the head two persons +could dance a polka very conveniently, while the nose might lodge the +musician. The thickness of the robe, which forms a rich drapery +descending to the ankles, is about six inches, and its circumference at +the bottom about two hundred mètres. The Crown of Victory which the +figure holds in her hands weighs one hundred quintals (a quintal is a +hundred weight).</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> prose writings are not numerous; and with the exception of +the well-known prefaces to his minor poems, they are little known. A +paper or two in Coleridge’s <cite>Friend</cite>, and a political tract occasioned +by the convention of Cintra, form important and valuable contributions +to the prose literature of the country. We would especially call +attention to the introductory part of the third volume of the <cite>Friend</cite>, +as containing a very beautiful development of Mr. Wordsworth’s opinions +on the moral worth and intellectual character of the age in which it was +his destiny to live. The political tract is very scarce; but we may +safely affirm, that it contains some of the finest writing in the +English language. Many of its passages can be paralleled only by the +majestic periods of Milton’s prose, or perhaps by the vehement and +impassioned eloquence of Demosthenes. Its tone is one of sustained +elevation, and in sententious moral and political wisdom it will bear a +comparison with the greatest productions of Burke. We trust that this +pamphlet will be republished. A collection and separate publication of +all Mr. Wordsworth’s prose writings would form a valuable addition to +English literature.</p> + +<p>Mr. Wordsworth’s conversation was eminently rich, various, and +instructive. Attached to his mountain home, and loving solitude as the +nurse of his genius, he was no recluse, but keenly enjoyed the pleasures +of social intercourse. He had seen much of the world, and lived on terms +of intimate friendship with some of the most illustrious characters of +his day. His reading was extensive, but select; indeed, his mind could +assimilate only the greater productions of intellect. To criticism he +was habitually indifferent; and when solicited for his opinions, he was +generally as reserved in his praise as he was gentle in his censures. +For some of his contemporaries he avowed the highest respect; but +Coleridge was the object of his deepest affection as a friend, and of +his veneration as a philosopher. Of the men who acted important parts in +the political drama of the last century, the homage of his highest +admiration was given to Burke, who, after Shakspeare and Bacon, he +thought the greatest being that Nature had ever created in the human +form.</p> + +<p>The last few years of Mr. Wordsworth’s life were saddened by +affliction. They who were admitted to the privilege of occasional +intercourse with the illustrious poet in his later days will long dwell +with deep and affectionate interest upon his earnest conversation while +he wandered through the shaded walks of the grounds which he loved so +well, and ever and anon paused to look down upon the gleaming lake as +its silver radiance was reflected through the trees which embosomed his +mountain home. Long will the accents of that “old man eloquent” linger +in their recollection, and their minds retain the impression of that +pensive and benevolent countenance. The generation of those who have +gazed upon his features will pass away and be forgotten. The marble, +like the features which it enshrines, will crumble into dust. <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ut vultus +hominum ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt, forma mentis +æterna</span>; the attributes of his mighty intellect are stamped for ever +upon his works which will be transmitted to future ages as a portion of +their most precious inheritance.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>No man is more enshrined in the heart of the French people than the poet +<span class="smcap">Beranger</span>. A few weeks since he went one evening with one of his nephews +to the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Clos des Lilas</span>, a garden in the students’ quarter devoted to +dancing in the open air, intending to look for a few minutes upon a +scene he had not visited since his youth, and then withdraw. But he +found it impossible to remain unknown and unobserved. The announcement +of his presence ran through the garden in a moment. The dances stopped, +the music ceased, and the crowd thronged toward the point where the +still genial and lovely old man was standing. At once there rose from +all lips the cry of <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Vive Beranger!</span> which was quickly followed by that +of <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Vive la Republique</span>. The poet, whose diffidence is excessive, could +not answer a word, but only smiled and blushed his thanks at this +enthusiastic reception. The acclamations continuing, an agent of the +police invited him to withdraw, lest his presence might occasion +disorder. The illustrious song-writer at once obeyed; by a singular +coincidence the door through which he went out opened upon the place +where Marshal Ney was shot.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Paris Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres</span> is constantly +sending forth the most valuable contributions, to the history of the +middle ages especially. It is now completing the publication of the +sixth volume of the Charters, Diplomas, and other documents relating to +French history. This volume, which was prepared by M. Pardessus, +includes the period from the beginning of 1220 to the end of 1270, and +comprehends the reign of St. Louis. The seventh volume, coming down some +fifty years later, is also nearly ready for the printer. Its editor is +M. Laboulaye. The first volume of the Oriental Historians of the +Crusaders, translated into French, is now going through the press, and +the second is in course<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span> of preparation. The greater part of the first +volume of the Greek Historians of the same chivalrous wars is also +printed, and the work is going rapidly forward. The Academy is also +preparing a collection of Occidental History on the same subject. When +these three collections are published, all the documents of any value +relating to the Crusades will be easily accessible, whether for the use +of the historian or the romancer. The Academy is also now engaged in +getting out the twenty-first volume of the History of the Gauls and of +France, and the nineteenth of the Literary History of France, which +brings the annals of French letters down to the thirteenth century. It +is also publishing the sixteenth volume of its own Memoirs, which +contains the history of the Academy for the last four years, and the +work of Freret on Geography, besides several other works of less +interest. From all this some idea may be formed of the labors and +usefulness of the institution.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In speaking of the advantage of education to Mechanics, Robert Hall says +that it has a tendency to exalt the character, and, in some measure, to +correct and subdue the taste for gross sensuality. It enables the +possessor to beguile his leisure moments (and every man has such) in an +innocent, at least, if not in a useful manner. The poor man who can +read, and who possesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at +home, without being tempted to repair to the public-house for that +purpose. His mind can find employment where his body is at rest. There +is in the mind of such a man an intellectual spring, urging him to the +pursuit of mental good; and if the minds of his family are also a little +cultivated, conversation becomes the more interesting, and the sphere of +domestic enjoyment enlarged. The calm satisfaction which books afford +puts him into a disposition to relish more exquisitely the tranquil +delight of conjugal and parental affection; and as he will be more +respectable in the eyes of his family than he who can teach them +nothing, he will be naturally induced to cultivate whatever may +preserve, and to shun whatever would impair that respect.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>For producing steel pens the best Dennemora—Swedish iron—or hoop iron +is selected. It is worked into sheets or slips about three feet long, +and four or five inches broad, the thickness varying with the desired +stiffness and flexibility of the pen for which it is intended. By a +stamping press pieces of the required size are cut out. The point +intended for the nib is introduced into a gauged hole, and by a machine +pressed into a semi-cylindrical shape. In the same machine it is pierced +with the required slit or slits. This being effected, the pens are +cleaned by mutual attrition in tin cylinders, and tempered, as in the +case of the steel plate, by being brought to the required color by heat. +Some idea of the extent of this manufacture will be formed from the +statement, that nearly 150 tons of steel are employed annually for this +purpose, producing upward of 250,000,000 pens.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Philosophers abroad are working diligently at many interesting branches +of physical science: magneto and muscular electricity, dia-magnetism, +vegetable and animal physiology: Matteucci in Italy, Bois-Reymond, +Weber, Reichenbach, and Dove in Germany. The two maps of isothermal +lines for every month in the year, lately published by the +last-mentioned <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">savant</span>, are remarkable and most valuable proofs of +scientific insight and research. If they are to be depended on, there is +but one pole of cold, situate in Northern America; that supposed to +exist in the Asiatic continent disappears when the monthly means are +taken. These maps will be highly useful to the meteorologist, and indeed +to students of natural philosophy generally, and will suggest other and +more-extended results.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A communication from M. Trémaux, an Abyssinian traveler, has been +presented to the French Academy by M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire: it gives an +account of the sudden difference which occurs in the races of men and +animals near Fa Zoglo, in the vicinity of the Blue Nile. The shores of +this stream are inhabited by a race of Caucasian origin, whose sheep +have woolly coats; but at a few miles’ distance, in the mountains of +Zaby and Akaro, negro tribes are found whose sheep are hairy. According +to M. Trévaux, ‘the differences and changes are due to two causes: the +one, that vegetable nature, having changed in aspect and production, +attracts and supports certain species, while others no longer appear, or +the individuals are fewer. As for the second cause, it is the more +surprising, since it produces opposite effects on the same point: where +man has no longer silken, but woolly hair, there the sheep ceases to be +covered with wool.’ M. St. Hilaire remarked on these facts, that the +degree of domestication of animals is proportional to the degree of +civilization of those who possess them. Among savage people dogs are +nearly all alike, and not far removed from the wolf or jackal; while +among civilized races there is an almost endless variety—the greater +part far removed from the primitive type. Are we to infer from this that +negroes will cease to be negroes by dint of civilization—that wool will +give place to hair, and <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">vice versâ</span>? If so, a wide field is opened for +experiment and observation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MONTHLY_RECORD_OF_CURRENT_EVENTS" id="MONTHLY_RECORD_OF_CURRENT_EVENTS"></a>MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS.</h2> + + +<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">The</span> action of Congress during the past month has been of more than usual +interest. The Senate has finally disposed of the Compromise Bill, which +has absorbed its discussions for nearly the whole of the session, and +has taken definite action upon all the subjects which that bill +embraced. On the 30th of July, the bill being before the Senate, a +resolution offered by Senator <span class="smcap">Bradbury</span>, of Maine, was pending, +authorizing the appointment of Commissioners by the United States and +Texas, for the adjustment of the boundary line between Texas and New +Mexico. To this Mr. <span class="smcap">Dawson</span>, of Ga., offered an amendment, providing that +until the boundary should have been agreed to, no territorial government +should go into operation east of the Rio Grande, nor should any state +government be established to include that territory. This amendment was +adopted, ayes 30, noes 28. Mr. <span class="smcap">Bradbury’s</span> resolution, thus amended, was +then adopted by the same vote. On the 31st the bill came up for final +action. Mr. <span class="smcap">Norris</span> moved to strike out the clause restricting the +Legislature of New Mexico from establishing or prohibiting slavery. This +was carried, 32 to 20. Mr. <span class="smcap">Pearce</span>, of Maryland, then moved to strike out +all relating to New Mexico, which was carried by a vote of 33 to 22. He +then moved to re-insert it, omitting the amendment of Messrs. Bradbury +and Dawson—his object being by this roundabout process (which was the +only way in which it could be reached), to reverse the vote adopting +that amendment. His motion was very warmly and strongly resisted, and +various amendments offered to it were voted down. The motion itself was +then put and lost, ayes 25, nays 28. This left nothing in the bill +except the provision for admitting California and that establishing a +territorial government for Utah. Mr. <span class="smcap">Walker</span>, of Wisconsin, then moved to +strike out all except that part relating to California. This was lost, +ayes 22, nays 33. Mr. <span class="smcap">Atchison</span>, of Missouri, moved to strike out all +relating to California. This motion was first lost by a tie vote, but a +reconsideration was moved by Mr. <span class="smcap">Winthrop</span> and carried, and then the +motion prevailed, ayes 34, nays 25. The Bill thus contained nothing but +the sections relating to Utah, and in that shape it was passed, ayes 32, +nays 18. Thus the Compromise bill, reported early in the session, and +earnestly debated from that time forward, was decisively rejected. On +the very next day, the 1st of August, the bill for the admission of +California was made the special order by a vote of 34 to 23. Mr. <span class="smcap">Foote</span>, +of Miss., offered an amendment that California should not exercise her +jurisdiction over territory south of 35° 30′. Mr. <span class="smcap">Clay</span> in an earnest and +eloquent speech, after regretting the fate of the Compromise Bill, said +he wished it to be distinctly understood that if any state or states, or +any portion of the people, should array themselves in arms against the +Union, he was for testing the strength of the government, to ascertain +whether it had the ability to maintain itself. He avowed the most +unwavering attachment to the Union, and declared his purpose to raise +both his voice and his arm in support of the Union and the Constitution. +He had been in favor of passing the several measures together: he was +now in favor of passing them separately: but whether passed or not, he +was in favor of putting down any and all resistance to the federal +authority. After some debate, Mr. <span class="smcap">Foote’s</span> amendment was negatived, yeas +23, nays 33. On the 6th of August Mr. <span class="smcap">Turney</span>, of Tennessee, offered an +amendment, dividing California into two territories, which may hereafter +form state constitutions. This was rejected, ayes 29, nays 32. Mr. <span class="smcap">Yulee</span> +offered an amendment, establishing a provisional government, which he +advocated in a speech extending through three days: on the 10th it was +rejected by a vote of 12 to 35 An amendment offered by Mr. Foote, +erecting the part of California south of 36° 30′ into a distinct +territory, was rejected by a vote of 13 to 30. On the 12th the bill was +ordered to be engrossed, yeas 33, nays 19; and on the 13th, after a +brief but warm debate, in the course of which Senators <span class="smcap">Berrien</span> and +<span class="smcap">Clemens</span> denounced the bill as fraught with mischief and peril to the +Union, and Mr. <span class="smcap">Houston</span> ridiculed the apprehensions thus expressed, the +bill was finally passed, yeas 34, nays 18, as follows:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Yeas</span>—Messrs. Baldwin, Bell, Benton, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Chase, +Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dickinson, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Dodge, +of Iowa, Douglas, Ewing, Felch, Green, Hale, Hamlin, Houston, Jones, +Miller, Norris, Phelps, Seward, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, +Underwood, Upham, Wales, Walker, Whitcomb, and Winthrop—34.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nays</span>.—Messrs. Atchison, Barnwell, Berrien, Butler, Clemens, Davis, of +Mississippi, Dawson, Foote, Hunter, King, Mason, Morton, Pratt, Rusk, +Sebastian, Soulé, Turney, and Yulee—18.</p> + +<p>The next day a Protest against the admission of California, signed by +Senators Mason and Hunter, of Virginia, Butler and Barnwell, of South +Carolina, Turney, of Tennessee, Soulé, of Louisiana, Davis, of +Mississippi, Atchison, of Missouri, and Morton and Yulee, of Florida, +was presented, and a request made that it might be entered on the +Journal. This, however, the Senate refused. Thus was completed the +action of the Senate on the admission of California.</p> + +<p>On the 5th of August Mr. <span class="smcap">Pearce</span>, of Md., introduced a bill, making +proposals to Texas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span> for the settlement of her western and northern +boundaries. It proposes that the boundary on the north shall commence at +the point where the meridian of 100° west longitude intersects the +parallel of 36° 30′ north latitude, and shall run due west to the +meridian of 103° west longitude: thence it shall run due south to the +32d degree north latitude, thence on the said parallel to the Rio del +Norte, and thence with the channel of said river to the Gulf of Mexico. +For relinquishing all claims to the United States government for +territory beyond the line thus defined, the bill proposes to pay Texas +ten millions of dollars. The bill was debated for several successive +days, and on the 9th was ordered to be engrossed, yeas 27, nays 24, and +received its final passage on the same day, yeas 30, nays 20, as +follows:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Yeas</span>.—Messrs. Badger, Bell, Berrien, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Clarke, +Clemens, Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dawson, Dickinson, Dodge, of +Iowa, Douglas, Felch, Foote, Greene, Houston, King, Norris, Pearce, +Phelps, Rusk, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, Wales, Whitcomb, and +Winthrop—30.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Nays</span>.—Messrs. Atchison, Baldwin, Barnwell, Benton, Butler, Chase, +Davis, of Mississippi, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Ewing, Hale, Hunter, Mason, +Morton, Seward, Soulé, Turney, Underwood, Upham, Walker, and Yulee—20.</p> + +<p>Thus was completed the action of the Senate on the second of the great +questions which have enlisted so much of public attention during the +past few months.—On the 14th the bill providing a territorial +government for New Mexico was taken up. Mr. <span class="smcap">Chase</span> moved to amend it by +inserting a clause prohibiting the existence of slavery within its +limits, which was rejected, ayes 20, nays 25. The bill was then ordered +to be engrossed for a third reading, which it had, and was finally +passed.</p> + +<p>In the House of Representatives, no business of importance has been +transacted. The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation Bill has been +discussed, and efforts have been made to change the existing rules of +the House so as to facilitate public business; but nothing important has +been done.—On the 6th of August President <span class="smcap">Fillmore</span> sent to the House a +Message, transmitting a letter he had received from Governor <span class="smcap">Bell</span>, of +Texas, announcing that he had sent a commissioner to extend the laws of +Texas over that part of New Mexico which she claims, and that he had +been resisted by the inhabitants and the United States military +authorities. The President says in his Message that he deems it his duty +to execute the laws of the United States, and that Congress has given +him full power to put down any resistance that may be organized against +them. Texas as a state has no authority or power beyond her own limits; +and if she attempts to prevent the execution of any law of the United +States, in any state or territory beyond her jurisdiction, the President +is bound by his oath to resist such attempts by all the power which the +Constitution has placed at his command. The question is then considered +whether there is any law in New Mexico, resistance to which would call +for the interposition of the Executive authority. The President regards +New Mexico as a territory of the United States, with the same boundaries +which it had before the war with Mexico, and while in possession of that +country. By the treaty of peace the boundary line between the two +countries is defined, and perfect security and protection in the free +enjoyment of their liberty and property, and in the free exercise of +their religion, is guaranteed to those Mexicans who may choose to reside +on the American side of that line. This treaty is part of the law of the +land, and as such must be maintained until superseded or displaced by +other legal provisions; and if it be obstructed, the case is regarded as +one which comes within the provisions of law, and which obliges the +President to enforce these provisions. “Neither the Constitution or the +laws,” says Mr. <span class="smcap">Fillmore</span>, “nor my duty or my oath of office, leave me +any alternative, or any choice, in my mode of action.” The Executive has +no power or authority to determine the true line of boundary, but it is +his duty, in maintaining the laws, to have regard to the actual state of +things as it existed at the date of the treaty—all must be now regarded +as New Mexico which was possessed and occupied as New Mexico by citizens +of Mexico at the date of the treaty, until a definite line of boundary +shall be established by competent authority. Having thus indicated the +course which he should pursue, the President expresses his earnest +desire that the question of boundary should be settled by Congress, with +the assent of the government of Texas. He deprecates delay, and objects +to the appointment of commissioners. He expresses the opinion that an +indemnity may very properly be offered to Texas, and says that no event +would be hailed with more satisfaction by the people than the amicable +adjustment of questions of difficulty which have now for a long time +agitated the country, and occupied, to the exclusion of other subjects, +the time and attention of Congress. Accompanying the Message was a +letter from Mr. <span class="smcap">Webster</span>, Secretary of State, in reply to that of +Governor <span class="smcap">Bell</span>. Mr. <span class="smcap">Webster</span> vindicates the action of the military +authorities in New Mexico, saying that they had been instructed to aid +and advance any attempt of the inhabitants to form a state government, +and that in all they did they acted as agents of the inhabitants rather +than officers of the government. An outline is given of the history of +the acquisition of New Mexico, and it is clearly shown that every thing +thus far has been done in strict accordance with the stipulations of the +treaty, and with the position and principles of the late President Polk. +The military government existed in New Mexico as a matter of necessity, +and must remain until superseded by some other form. The President +approves entirely of the measures taken by Colonel Munroe, while he +takes no part, and expresses no opinion touching the boundary claimed by +Texas. These documents were ordered to be printed and were referred to +committees.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. <span class="smcap">Pearce</span> of Maryland, and Mr. <span class="smcap">Bates</span> of Missouri, who were invited by +President <span class="smcap">Fillmore</span> to become members of his cabinet, both declined. Hon. +<span class="smcap">T. M. T. Mckennan</span> of Pennsylvania, has been appointed Secretary of the +Interior, and Hon. <span class="smcap">Chas. M. Conrad</span> of Louisiana, Secretary of War, in +their places. Both have accepted.—It is stated that Hon. <span class="smcap">D. D. Barnard</span> +of New-York, has been nominated as Minister to Prussia. Mr. B. is one of +the ablest writers and most accomplished scholars in the country.—A +regular line of stages has just been established to run monthly between +Independence, Missouri, and Santa-Fé, in New Mexico. Each coach is to +carry eight persons, and to be made water tight, so as to be used as a +boat in crossing streams. This will prove to be an important step toward +the settlement of the great western region of our Union.—An active +canvass has been going on in Virginia for the election of members of a +convention to revise the state constitution. The questions at issue grow +mainly out of a contest between the eastern and western sections of the +state for supremacy. The west has been gaining upon the east in +population very rapidly during the last fifteen or twenty years. The +east claims a representation based upon property, by which it hopes to +maintain its supremacy, while the west insists that population alone +should be made the basis of political representation. The contest is +carried on with a great deal of warmth and earnestness.—Elections of +considerable interest have taken place during the month in several of +the states. In Missouri, where five members of Congress were chosen, +three of them, Messrs. <span class="smcap">Porter, Darby</span>, and <span class="smcap">Miller</span>, are known to be Whigs. +In the other two districts the result has not been ascertained. The +change which this result indicates, is attributed to the course taken by +Senator <span class="smcap">Benton</span>, in refusing to obey the instructions of the state +legislature, and in denouncing them as connected with the scheme of +disunion, which he charged upon certain southern politicians. This led +to a division in his own party, which enabled the Whigs to elect a part, +at least, of the Congressional delegation.—In North Carolina an +election for governor, has resulted in the choice of Col. <span class="smcap">Reid</span>, +Democrat, by 3000 majority. In the state senate the Democrats have four, +and in the house they have 10 majority. This enables them to choose a +democratic U.S. Senator in place of Mr. <span class="smcap">Mangum</span>, the present Whig +incumbent.—In Indiana the election has given the Democrats control of +the legislature and of the state convention for the revision of the +constitution.—The authorities of Buffalo some weeks since, hearing that +Lord Elgin, Governor of Canada, was about to visit their city, prepared +for him a public reception. Circumstances prevented the fulfillment of +the purpose, but the courtesy of the people of Buffalo was communicated +by Lord Elgin to his government at home, and acknowledged by Earl Grey +in a letter to our Department of State. In further acknowledgement the +Legislature of Canada, and the Corporation of Toronto, invited the +authorities of Buffalo to pay them a visit, which was done on the 8th of +August, when they were welcomed by a very brilliant reception. This +interchange of courtesies is peculiarly creditable to both parties, and +highly gratifying to both countries.—The Legislature of Wisconsin has +enacted a law making it a penal offence for any owner or lessee of land +to allow the Canada thistle to go to seed upon it.—The Board of +Visitors appointed by the Government to attend the annual examination at +West Point, have made their report, giving a detailed account of their +observations, and concluding by expressing the opinion, that the +Military Academy is one of the most useful and highly creditable in our +country; that it has been mainly instrumental in forming the high +character which our army now sustains before the civilized world, and +that it is entitled to the confidence and fostering care of the +Government.—Hon. <span class="smcap">Henry Clay</span> has been spending the August weeks at +Newport, R.I. He has received essential benefit from the sea-bathing and +the relief from public care which his temporary residence there +affords.—Commodore <span class="smcap">Jacob Jones</span>, of the United States Navy, died at his +residence in Philadelphia, on the 3d ult. He was in the 83d year of his +age, and stood nearly at the head of the list of post captains, +Commodores <span class="smcap">Barron</span> and <span class="smcap">Stewart</span> only preceding him. He was a native of +Delaware, and one of the number who, in the war of 1812, contributed to +establish the naval renown of our country. For the gallant manner in +which, while in command of the brig Wasp, he captured the British brig +Frolic, of superior force, he was voted a sword by each of the States of +Delaware, Massachusetts, and New-York. He was, until recently, the +Governor of the Naval Asylum, near Philadelphia.—The city authorities +of Boston, acting under the advice of the Consulting Physicians, have +decided to abandon all quarantine regulations, as neither useful nor +effectual in preventing the introduction of epidemic +diseases.—Professor <span class="smcap">Forshey</span>, in an essay just published, proves by the +result of observations kept up through a great number of years, that the +channel of the Mississippi river is <em>deepening</em>, and consequently the +levee system will not necessarily elevate the bed of the river, as has +been feared. On the contrary, he thinks confining the river within a +narrow channel will give it additional velocity, ant serve to scrape out +the bottom; while opening artificial outlets, by diminishing the +current, will cause the rapid deposition of sediment, and thus produce +evil to be guarded against.—A project has been broached for completing +the line of railroads from Boston to Halifax, and then to have the +Atlantic steamers run between that port and Galway, the most westerly +port of Ireland. In this way it is thought that the passage from +Liverpool to New York may be considerably shortened.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span></p> + +<p>In <span class="smcap">Scientific</span> matters some interesting and important experiments have +been made by Prof. <span class="smcap">Page</span> of the Smithsonian Institute, on the subject of +Electro-Magnetism as a motive power, the results of which have recently +been announced by him in public lectures. He states that there can be no +further doubt as to the application of this power as a substitute for +steam. He exhibited experiments in which a bar of iron weighing one +hundred and sixty pounds was made to spring up ten inches through the +air, and says that he can as readily move a bar weighing a hundred tons +through a space of a hundred feet. He expects to be able to apply it to +forge hammers, pile drivers, &c., and to engines with a stroke of six, +ten, or twenty feet. He exhibited also an engine of between four and +five horse power, worked by a battery contained in a space of three +cubic feet. It was a reciprocating engine of two feet stroke, the engine +and battery weighing about one ton, and driving a circular saw ten +inches in diameter, sawing boards an inch and a quarter thick, making +eighty strokes a minute. The professor says that the cost of the power +is less than steam under most conditions, though not so low as the +cheapest steam engines. The consumption of three pounds of zinc per day +produces one horse power. The larger his engines the greater the +economy. Some practical difficulties remain to be overcome in the +application of the power to practical purposes on a larger scale: but +little doubt seems to be entertained that such an application is +feasible. The result is one of very great importance to science, as well +as to the arts of practical life.—We made a statement in our July +number of the pretensions of Mr. Henry M. Paine, of Worcester, Mass., to +having discovered a new method of procuring hydrogen from water, and +rendering it capable of giving a brilliant light, with great case and at +a barely nominal expense, by passing it through cold spirits of +turpentine. His claims have been very generally discredited, and were +supposed to have been completely exploded by the examinations of several +scientific gentlemen of Boston and New York. Mr. <span class="smcap">George Mathiot</span>, an +electro-metallurgist attached to the United States Coast Survey, and a +gentleman of scientific habits and attainments, has published in the +Scientific American, a statement that he has succeeded in a kindred +attempt. He produced a very brilliant light, nearly equal to the +Drummond, by passing hydrogen through turpentine: and in thus passing +the gas from thirty-three ounces of zinc through it, the quantity of +turpentine was not perceptibly diminished. “In this case,” he says, “the +hydrogen could not have been changed into carburetted hydrogen, for coal +gas contains from four to five times as much carbon as hydrogen, and +pure carburetted hydrogen has six times as much carbon as hydrogen; and, +as 33 ounces of zinc, by solution, liberate one ounce, or twelve cubic +feet of hydrogen, therefore, from four to six ounces of turpentine +should have been used up, supposing it to be all carbon; but turpentine +is composed of twenty atoms of carbon to fifteen atoms of hydrogen, and, +consequently, only one-seventh of its carbon can be taken up by the +hydrogen; or, in other words, forty-two ounces of turpentine will be +required to carburet one ounce of hydrogen.” He tried the experiment +afterward, placing the whole apparatus in a cold bath to prevent +evaporation, and again by heating the turpentine to 120 degrees—but in +both cases with the same result. He used the same turpentine and had a +brilliant light for nearly three hours, and yet the quantity was not +perceptibly diminished. Mr. Mathiot claims that his experiments prove +conclusively that hydrogen can be used for illumination, but at what +comparative rate of expense he does not state.—The American Scientific +Association commenced its annual session at New Haven on the 19th of +August. This is an association formed for the advancement of science and +embraces within its members nearly all the leading scientific men of the +United States. Prof. <span class="smcap">Bache</span> presides. The proceedings of these +conventions, made up of papers on scientific subjects read by +distinguished gentlemen, are published in a volume, and form a valuable +contribution to American scientific literature.—Intelligence has been +received, by way of England, and also, direct, from two of the American +vessels sent out in search of Sir John Franklin. The brig <em>Advance</em> +arrived at Whalefish Island, on the West Coast of Greenland, on the 24th +of June, and the <em>Rescue</em> arrived two days after. Two of the British +steamers and two of the ships had also arrived. All on board were well, +and in good spirits for prosecuting the expedition. Enormous icebergs +were, seen by the American vessels on the voyage, some of them rising +150 or 200 feet above the water. A letter from an officer of the +<em>Rescue</em> says they expected to go to a place called Uppermarik, about +two hundred miles from Whalefish Island, thence to Melville Bay, and +across Lancaster Sound to Cape Walker, and from that point they would +try to go to Melville Island and as much farther as possible. They +intended to winter at Melville Island, but that would depend upon +circumstances.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The <span class="smcap">Literary Intelligence</span> of the month presents no feature of special +interest. The first volume of a series of Reminiscences of Congress, +made up mainly of a biography of <span class="smcap">Daniel Webster</span>, has just been issued +from the press of Messrs. Baker and Scribner. It is by <span class="smcap">Charles W. March</span>, +Esq., a young man of fine talents, and of unusual advantages for the +preparation of such a work. His style is eminently graphic and +classical, and the book is one which merits attention.—The same +publishers will also publish a volume of sketches by <span class="smcap">Ik. Marvel</span>, the +well-known pseudonym of Mr. <span class="smcap">D. G. Mitchell</span>, whose “Fresh Gleanings,” and +“Battle Summer,” have already made him very favorably known to the +literary community.—Prof.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span> <span class="smcap">Torrey</span>, of the University of Vermont, has +prepared for the press the fourth volume of his translation of <span class="smcap">Neander’s</span> +Church History, which will be issued soon. It is understood that, at the +time of his death, the great German scholar was engaged upon the fifth +volume of his history, which is therefore left unfinished.—The +Appletons announce a Life of <span class="smcap">John Randolph</span>, by Hon. <span class="smcap">A. H. Garland</span>, which +can not fail to be an attractive and interesting work. They are also to +publish the magnificently-illustrated book on the war between the United +States and Mexico, upon which <span class="smcap">Geo. W. Kendall</span> has been engaged for a +year or two., It is to embrace splendid pictorial drawings of all the +principal conflicts, taken on the spot, by Carl Nebel, a German artist +of distinction, with a description of each battle by Mr. <span class="smcap">Kendall</span>. It +will be issued in one volume, folio, beautifully colored.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The past month has been distinguished by the annual commencements of the +academic year in most of the colleges of the country. At these +anniversary occasions, the candidates for honors make public exhibition +of their ability; the literary societies attached to the colleges hold +their celebrations: and addresses and poems are delivered by literary +gentlemen previously invited to perform that duty. The number of +colleges in the country, and the fact that the most distinguished +scholars in the country are generally selected for the office, gives to +these occasions a peculiar and decided interest; and the addresses then +and thus pronounced, being published, form no inconsiderable or unworthy +portion of the literature of the age. The commencement at Yale College +was celebrated at New Haven, on the 15th ult. The recurrence of the +third semi-centennial anniversary of the foundation of the college, in +1700, led to additional exercises of great interest, under the +supervision of the alumni of the college, of whom over 3000 are still +living, and about 1000 of whom were present. President <span class="smcap">Woolsey</span> delivered +a very interesting historical discourse, sketching the origin, progress, +and results of the institution, and claiming for it a steady and +successful effort to meet the requirements of the country and the age. +The discourse, when published, will form a valuable contribution to the +historical literature of the country. The alumni, at their dinner, which +followed the address, listened to some eloquent and interesting speeches +from ex-President <span class="smcap">Day</span> and Prof. <span class="smcap">Silliman</span>, touching the history of Yale +College; from Prof. <span class="smcap">Felton</span>, concerning Harvard; from <span class="smcap">Leonard Bacon, +D.D.</span>, in reference to the clergy educated at Yale; from <span class="smcap">Edward Bates</span>, of +Missouri, concerning the West and the Union; from Prof. <span class="smcap">Brown</span>, of +Dartmouth; from <span class="smcap">Daniel Lord</span>, of New York, upon the Bench and the Bar; +and from Dr. <span class="smcap">Stevens</span>, upon the Medical Profession, as connected with +Yale College; and from other gentlemen of distinction and ability, upon +various topics. <span class="smcap">John W. Andrews</span>, Esq., of Columbus, O., delivered the +oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society; his subject was the Progress +of the World during the last half century. <span class="smcap">Oliver Wendell Holmes</span>, of +Cambridge, delivered the poem, which was one of his most admirable +productions—a blending of the most exquisite descriptive and +sentimental poetry with the finest humor, the keenest wit, and the most +effective sarcasm. <span class="smcap">Pierpont</span>, the well-known poet, also read an admirable +satirical and humorous poem at the dinner: The number of graduates at +Yale this year was seventy-eight.—The commencement of the University of +Vermont occurred on the 7th. Rev. <span class="smcap">Henry Wilkes</span>, of Montreal, delivered +an address before the Society for Religious Inquiry, upon the Relations +of the Age to Theology. <span class="smcap">H. J. Raymond</span>, of New-York, addressed the +Associate Alumni on the Duties of American Scholars, with special +reference to certain aspects of American Society; and Rev. Mr. <span class="smcap">Washburn</span>, +of Newburyport, Mass., delivered an address before the Literary +Societies, on the Developments and Influences of the Spiritual +Philosophy The number of graduates was fifteen—considerably less than +usual.—Union College at Schenectady, N.Y., celebrated its commencement +on the 24th of July. Rev. Dr. S. H. Cox, of Brooklyn, delivered the +address. The number of graduates was eighty.—At Dartmouth, commencement +occurred on the 25th of July. Rev. Dr. <span class="smcap">Sprague</span>, of Albany, addressed the +alumni on the Perpetuity of Literary Influence; <span class="smcap">David Paul Brown</span>, Esq., +of Philadelphia, the Literary Societies, on Character, its Force and +Results; and Rev. <span class="smcap">Albert Barnes</span>, of the same city, addressed the +Theological Society on the Theology of the Unknown. The number of +graduates was forty-six.—On the 24th of July, the regular +commencement-day, Hon. <span class="smcap">Theo. Frelinghuysen</span> was inaugurated as President +of Rutgers College, N.J. His address was one of great ability and +eloquence, enforcing the importance of academic education to the age and +the country. The number of graduates was twenty-four.—Amherst College +celebrated its commencement on the 8th The number of graduates was +twenty-four Rev. Dr. Cox addressed the Society of Inquiry on the +importance of having history studied as a science in our colleges. <span class="smcap">A. B. +Street</span>, Esq., of Albany, delivered a poem, and Mr. <span class="smcap">E. P. Whipple</span>, of +Boston, an admirable and eloquent oration on the characteristics and +tendencies of American genius. He repeated the oration at the Wesleyan +University, at Middletown, Conn.; where a brilliant oration by Prof. <span class="smcap">D. +D. Whedon</span>, and a poem by Mr. <span class="smcap">W. H. C. Hosmer</span>, were delivered before the +Phi Beta Kappa Society. An able and learned address was delivered before +the Alumni by Rev. <span class="smcap">J. Cummings</span>. The number of graduates was +nineteen.—Some important changes are to be made in the organization of +Brown University, in accordance with the principles and views recently +set forth by President <span class="smcap">Wayland</span>, in a published pamphlet. Greater +prominence is to be given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span> to the study of the natural sciences as +applied to the arts of practical life, and the study of the ancient +languages is to be made optional with students. The sum of $108,000 has +been raised by subscriptions in aid of the institution. Rev. <span class="smcap">Asahel +Kendrick</span>, of Madison University, has been elected Professor of Greek; +<span class="smcap">William A. Norton</span>, of Delaware College, Professor of Natural Philosophy +and Civil Engineering; and <span class="smcap">John A. Porter</span>, of the Lawrence Scientific +School, Professor of Chemistry applied to the Arts.—Rev. Dr. Tefft, of +Cincinnati, has been elected President of the Genesee College just +established at Lima, N.Y. The sum of $100,000 has been raised for its +support.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">California</span> our intelligence is to the 15th of July, received by the +Philadelphia steamer, which brought gold to the value of over a million +of dollars. The accounts from the gold mines are unusually good. The +high water at most of the old mines prevented active operations; but +many new deposits had been discovered, especially upon the head waters +of Feather river, and between that and Sacramento river. Gold has also +been discovered at the upper end of Carson river valley, near and at the +eastern base of the Sierra Nevada. A lump of quartz mixed with gold, +weighing thirty pounds, and containing twenty-three pounds of pure gold, +has been found between the North and Middle Forks of the Yuba river. At +Nevada and the Gold Run, where the deposits were supposed to have been +exhausted, further explorations have shown it in very great abundance, +at a depth, sometimes, of forty feet below the surface. The hills and +ravines in the neighborhood are said to be very rich in gold.—A very +alarming state of things exists in the southern mines, owing, in a great +degree, to the disaffection created by the tax levied upon foreign +miners. Murders and other crimes of the most outrageous character are of +constant occurrence, and in the immediate vicinity of Sonora, it is +stated that more than twenty murders had been committed within a +fortnight. Guerrilla parties, composed mainly of Mexican robbers, were +in the mountains, creating great alarm, and rendering life and property +in their vicinity wholly insecure. Fresh Indian troubles had also broken +out on the Tuolumne: three Americans had been shot.—The Odd Fellows +have erected a grand edifice at San Francisco for the accommodation of +their order.—The Fourth of July was celebrated with great enthusiasm +throughout California.—It is stated that a line of steamers is to be +run from San Francisco direct to Canton. Whether the enterprise be +undertaken at once or not, it cannot, in the natural course of events, +be delayed many years. The settlement of California will lead, directly +or indirectly, to a constant commercial intercourse with China, and will +exert a more decided influence upon the trade and civilization of +eastern Asia, than any other event of the present century. California +can not long continue dependent upon the Atlantic coast, still less +upon the countries of Europe, for the teas, silks, spices, &c., which her +population will require. She is ten thousand miles nearer to their +native soil than either England, France, or the United States, and will, +of course, procure them for herself rather than through their agency.</p> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">Oregon</span> we have intelligence to the first of July. Governor <span class="smcap">Lane</span> has +resigned his post as governor of the territory, and was about starting +on a gold-hunting expedition. It is said that one of the richest gold +mines on the Pacific coast has been discovered in the Spokan country, +some 400 miles above Astoria, on the Columbia river. Parties were on +their way to examine it. Extensive discoveries of gold, we may say here, +are reported to have been made in Venezuela, on a branch of the river +Orinoco. The papers of that country are full of exultation over this +discovery, from which they anticipate means to pay the English debt +within a single year.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">Mexico</span> our dates are to the 16th of July. The ravages of the +Indians in the Northern districts still continue. In Chihuahua they have +become so extensive that a body of three hundred men was to be sent to +suppress them. The State of Durango has also been almost overrun by +them. In Sonora several severe conflicts have taken place in which the +troops were victorious. The cholera has almost ceased.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In <span class="smcap">England</span>, no event has excited more interest than the claim of his +seat in the House of Commons by Baron <span class="smcap">Rothschild</span>. At his request, a +meeting of the electors of the city of London was held July 25th, to +confer on the course proper to be pursued. The meeting concluded by +resolving that Baron R. ought to claim his seat, which he accordingly +did on the 26th of July. He asked to be sworn on the Old Testament, +against which Sir Robert Inglis protested. The question was debated for +several days, and was finally postponed until the next session.—The +proceedings of <span class="smcap">Parliament</span>, during the month, have not been of special +interest. The House of Commons passed the resolutions approving of the +foreign policy of the ministry, and especially its conduct in regard to +the claims on the government of Greece, by a vote of ayes 310, nays 264, +showing a ministerial majority of 46. The selection of a site for the +great Industrial Exhibition of next year has elicited a good deal of +discussion. Hyde Park has been fixed upon as the site against the very +earnest remonstrances of many who live in its vicinity; and the building +committee have accepted an offer made by Mr. Paxton, to erect a building +chiefly of iron and glass. It is to be of wood-work to the height of +eighteen feet, and arrangements have been made to provide complete +ventilation, and to secure a moderate temperature. It is to be made in +Birmingham, and the entire cost is stated at about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span> a million of +dollars. There will be on the ground-floor alone seven miles of tables. +There will be 1,200,000 square feet of glass, 24 miles of one +description of gutter, and 218 miles of “sash-bar;” and in the +construction 4500 tons of iron will be expended. The wooden floor will +be arranged with “divisions,” so as to allow the dust to fall +through.—An attempt was made to secure a vote in the House of Commons +in favor of repealing the malt-tax, on the ground that it pressed too +heavily upon the agricultural interest; but it failed, 247 voting +against it and 123 in its favor.—An effort was made to extend still +further the principles of the reform bill, by making the franchise of +counties in England and Wales the same as it is in boroughs, giving the +right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of +£10. The motion was warmly advocated by several members, but opposed by +Lord John Russel, partly on the ground that it was brought forward at a +wrong time, and partly because he thought the changes contemplated +inconsistent with the maintenance of the monarchy, the House of Lords, +and the House of Commons, which were fundamental parts of the British +Constitution. The motion was lost by 159 to 100.—A motion to inquire +into the working of the existing regulation concerning Sunday labor in +the Post-offices was carried 195 to 112.—A motion made by Lord John +Russell to erect a monument in Westminster Abbey, to the memory of Sir +Robert Peel was carried by acclamation.—The sum of £12,000 per annum +was voted to the present Duke of Cambridge, and £3000 to the Princess +Mary of Cambridge—being grandchildren of the late King George III.—not +without strenuous opposition from members, who thought the sums +unnecessarily large.</p> + +<p>A petition was recently presented in the House of Lords, purporting to +be signed by 18,000 rate payers, against the bill for the Liverpool +Corporation Water-works. In consequence of suspicions that were +entertained, the document was referred to a select committee and it was +found on investigation that many of the names had been affixed by +clerks, and the paper then wet to make it appear that it had been +carried round from place to place in the rain. Evidence was taken +showing that this had been a very common practice of agents employed by +the parties interested to get up signatures to petitions. The Committee +in the House of Lords had expressed themselves very strongly as to the +necessity of some law for preventing such abuses in future.—The +criminal tables for the year 1849 have been laid before Parliament. Of +the persons committed for trial during the year, 6786 were acquitted, +and 21,001 convicted. Of these convicted one in 318 was sentenced to +death, and one in 8 to transportation. There has been no execution since +1841 except for murder: of 19 persons convicted during the past year of +this offense 15 were executed, <em>five</em> of whom were females.—The Royal +Agricultural Society held its annual meeting July 18th at Exeter. Mr. +<span class="smcap">Lawrence</span> the American Minister at London, and Mr. <span class="smcap">Rives</span> the Minister at +Paris were both present and made eloquent speeches, upon the +agricultural state of England.—The boiler of the steamer Red Rover at +Bristol exploded July 22d, killing six persons and severely injuring +many others.—An explosion took place in the coal-pits belonging to Mr. +Sneden, near Airdrie on the 23d, by which <em>nineteen</em> persons were +instantly killed. Only one man in the mine escaped; he saved his life by +throwing himself upon the ground the moment he heard the explosion. The +men were not provided with Davy safety-lamps.—At a meeting of the Royal +Humane Society a new invention of Lieutenant Halkett, of the Navy, was +introduced. It is a boat-cloak which may be worn, like a common cloak on +the shoulders, and may be inflated in three or four minutes by a bellows +and will then sustain six or eight persons—forming a kind of boat which +it is almost impossible to overturn. A trial was to be made of its +efficacy.—Sir Thomas Wilde has been made Lord Chancellor and raised to +the peerage by the title of Baron Truro of Bowes, in the County of +Middlesex.—Sir Robert Peel, Bart., has been returned to Parliament for +the borough of Tamworth made vacant by the death of his father. It is +stated that Sir Robert’s last injunction was that his children should +not receive titles or pensions for any supposed services their father +might have rendered. This is in keeping with the severe simplicity of +his character and negatives conclusively the representations of those +who have charged his advocacy of measures designed to aid the poor, to +interested motives of selfish or family ambition. A subscription has +been set on foot for a testimonial to his memory to be called “the +Working-man’s Monument.”</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The foreign<span class="smcap"> Literary Intelligence</span> of the month is unusually meagre. The +only work of great interest that has been published is <span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> +posthumous Poem, <cite>The Prelude</cite>, of which a somewhat extended notice will +be found on a preceding page. It has already been republished in this +country, where it will find a wide circle of sympathizing readers. The +Household Narrative, in summing up the literary news, says that another +note-worthy poem of the month, also a posthumous publication though +written some years ago, is a dramatic piece attributed to Mr. Beddoes, +and partaking largely of his well-known eccentricity and genius, called +<cite>Death’s Jest-Book or the Fool’s Tragedy</cite>. A republication of Mr. +Cottle’s twenty-four books of <cite>Alfred</cite>, though the old pleasant butt and +“jest-book” of his ancient friend Charles Lamb, is said hardly to +deserve even so many words of mention. Nor is there much novelty in <cite>A +Selection from the Poems and Dramatic Works of Theodore Korner</cite>, though +the translation is a new one, and by the clever translator of the +<cite lang="de" xml:lang="la">Nibelungen</cite>. To this brief catalogue of works of fancy is added the +mention of two somewhat clever tales in one volume, with the title of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span><cite>Hearts in Mortmain</cite> and <cite>Cornelia</cite>, intended to illustrate the working +of particular phases of mental emotion; and another by Mrs. Trollope, +called <cite>Petticoat Government</cite>.——In the department of history there is +nothing more important than a somewhat small volume with the very large +title of the <cite>Correspondence of the Emperor Charles V. and his +Embassadors at the Courts of England and France</cite>; which turns out to be +a limited selection from letters existing in the archives at Vienna, but +not uninteresting to English readers, from the fact of their incidental +illustrations of the history of Henry VIII., and the close of Wolsey’s +career. Two books of less pretension have contributed new facts to the +history of the late civil war in Hungary; the first from the Austrian +point of view by an <em>Eye-witness</em>, and the second from the Hungarian by +<em>Max Schlesinger</em>. Mr. Baillie Cochrane has also contributed his mite to +the elucidation of recent revolutions in a volume called <cite>Young Italy</cite>, +which is chiefly remarkable for its praise of Lord Brougham, its defense +of the Pope, its exaggerated scene-painting of the murder of Rossi, its +abuse of the Roman Republic, and its devotion of half a line to the +mention of Mazzini.</p> + +<p>Better worthy of brief record are the few miscellaneous publications, +which comprise an excellent new translation of <cite class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Rochefoucauld’s Maxims</cite>, +with a better account of the author, and more intelligent notes, than +exist in any previous edition; most curious and interesting <cite>Memorials +of the Empire of Japan in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries</cite>, +which Mr. Rundell of the East India House has issued under the +superintendence of the Hakluyt Society, and which illustrate English +relations with those Japanese; an intelligent and striking summary of +the <cite>Antiquities of Richborough, Reculver, and Lynne</cite>, written by Mr. +Roach Smith and illustrated by Mr. Fairholt, which exhibits the results +of recent discoveries of many remarkable Roman antiquities in Kent; and +a brief, unassuming narrative of the Hudson’s Bay Company’s <cite>Expedition +to the Shores of the Arctic Sea in 1846 and 1847</cite>, by the commander of +the expedition, Mr. John Rae.</p> + +<p>Ballooning in France and England seems to have become a temporary mania. +The ascent of Messrs. Barral and Bixio, of which a detailed and very +interesting account will be found in a preceding page, has encouraged +imitators in various styles. One M. Poitevin made an ascent in Paris +seated on a horse, which was attached to the balloon in place of the +car. The London <cite>Athenæum</cite> invokes the aid of the police to prevent such +needless cruelty to animals, and to exercise proper supervision over the +madmen who undertake such fool-hardy feats.——A plaster mask said to +have been taken from the face of Shakspeare, and bearing the date 1616 +on its back, has been brought to London from Mayence, which is said to +have been procured from an ecclesiastical personage of high rank at +Cologne. It excites considerable attention among virtuosos.——The +English, undeterred by the indignation which has been poured out upon +Lord Elgin by <span class="smcap">Byron</span> and others for rifling Athens of its antiquities for +display at home, are practicing the same desecration in regard to the +treasures discovered in Nineveh by Mr. Layard. It is announced that the +Great Bull and upwards of 100 tons of sculpture excavated by him, may be +expected in England in September for the British Museum. The French +Government are also making extensive collections of Assyrian works of +art.——Among those who perished by the loss of the British steamer +<em>Orion</em> was Dr. <span class="smcap">John Burns</span>, Professor of Surgery in the University of +Glasgow, and a man of considerable eminence in his profession. He was +the author of several works upon various medical subjects and had also +written upon literary and theological topics. Dr. <span class="smcap">Gray</span>, Professor of +Oriental languages in the same university has also deceased within the +month.——A new filtering apparatus, intended to render sea-water +drinkable, has recently been brought to the notice of the Paris +Academy.——A letter in the London <cite>Athenæum</cite> from the Nile complains +bitterly of the constant devastation of the remains of ancient temples, +&c., caused by the rapacious economy of the government. The writer +states that immense sculptured and painted blocks have been taken from +the temple of Karnac, for the construction of a sugar factory; a fine +ancient tomb has also entirely disappeared under this process. Very +earnest complaints are also made of the Prussian traveler Dr. Lepsius, +for carrying away relies of antiquity, and for destroying others. The +writer urges that if this process is continued Egypt will lose far more +by the cessation of English travel than she can gain in the value of +material used.——Rev. <span class="smcap">W. Kirby</span>, distinguished as one of the first +entomologists of the age, died at his residence in Suffolk, July 4th, at +the advanced age of 91. He has left behind him several works of great +ability and reputation on his favorite science.——It is stated that the +late Sir Robert Peel left his papers to Lord Mahon and Mr. Edward +Cardwell M.P.——Among the deaths of the month we find that of an +amiable man and accomplished writer, Mr. B. Simmons, whose name will be +recollected as that of a frequent contributor of lyrical poems of a high +order to <cite>Blackwood’s Magazine</cite>, and to several of the Annuals. Mr. +Simmons, who held a situation in the Excise office, died July +19th.——<span class="smcap">Guizot</span>, the eminent historian, on the marriage of his two +daughters recently to descendants of the illustrious Hollander De <span class="smcap">Witt</span>, +was unable to give them any thing as marriage portions. Notwithstanding +the eminent positions he has filled for so much of his life—positions +which most men would have made the means of acquiring enormous wealth, +<span class="smcap">Guizot</span> is still poor. This fact alone furnishes at once evidence and +illustration of his sterling integrity.——A new History of Spain, by +<span class="smcap">St. Hilaire</span>, is in course of publication in Paris. He has been engaged +upon it for a number of years, and it is said to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span>be a work of great +ability and learning.——<span class="smcap">Leverrier</span>, the French astronomer, has published +a strong appeal in favor of throwing the electric telegraph open to the +public in France, as it has been in the United States. At present it is +guarded by the government as a close monopoly. His paper contains a good +deal of interesting matter in regard to this greatest of modern +inventions.——<span class="smcap">Meinhold</span>, the author of the “Amber Witch,” has lately +been fined and imprisoned for slandering a brother clergyman. This is +the second instance in which he has been convicted of this +offense.——M. <span class="smcap">Guizot</span> has addressed a long letter to each of the five +classes of the Institute of France, to declare that he can not accept +the candidateship offered him for a seat in the Superior Council of +Public Instruction.——Sir <span class="smcap">Edward Bulwer Lytton</span> is to be a candidate for +the House of Commons, with Colonel Sibthorpe, for Lincoln. He has a new +play forthcoming for the Princess’s Theater.——Miss <span class="smcap">Strickland</span> has in +preparation a series of volumes on the Queens of Scotland, as a +companion to her interesting and successful work on the Queens of +England.——Sir <span class="smcap">Francis Knowles</span> has recently taken out a patent for +producing iron in an improved form. In blast-furnaces, as at present +constructed, the ore, the flux, and combustibles, are mixed together; +and the liberated gases of the fuel injure the quality of the iron, and +cause great waste, in the shape of slag. By the new process the ore is +to be kept separate from the sulphureous fuel in a compartment contrived +for the purpose, in the centre of the furnace, where it will be in +contact with peat only; and in this way the waste will be avoided, and a +quality of metal will be produced fully equal to the best Swedish. The +invention is likely to be one of considerable importance.——Professor +<span class="smcap">Johnston</span>, the distinguished English agriculturist, who visited this +country last year, and lectured in several of the principal cities, at a +late farmers’ meeting in Berwickshire, gave a general account of the +state of agriculture in America, as it fell under his personal +observation. He represented it in the Northern States as about what it +was in Scotland eighty or ninety years ago. The land in all New England +he said had been exhausted by bad farming, and even in the Western +States the tendency of things was to the same result. He thought it +would not be long before America would be utterly unable to export wheat +to England in any large quantity.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Affairs in <span class="smcap">France</span> are still unsettled. The Government goes steadily +forward in the enactment of laws restraining the Press, forbidding free +discussion among the people, diminishing popular rights and preparing +the way, by all the means in their power, for another revolution. The +most explicit provisions of the Constitution have been set aside and the +government of the Republic is really more despotic than was that of +Louis Philippe at any time during his reign. A warm debate occurred in +the Assembly on the bill for restricting the liberty of the press. It +commenced on the 8th of July and gave occasion to a violent scene. M. +Rouher, the Minister of Justice, spoke of the Revolution of February as +a “disastrous catastrophe,” which elicited loud demands from the +opposition that he should be called to order. The President refused to +call him to order and M. Girardin threatened to resign saying, that he +would not sit in an assembly where such language was permitted. He did +not resign, however, but his friends contented themselves with handing +in a protest the next day which the President refused to receive. The +debate then proceeded and an amendment was passed, 313 to 281, declaring +that all leading articles in journals should be signed by the writers. +On the 15th an amendment was adopted that papers publishing a +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">feuilleton</span> should pay an additional tax of one centime beyond the +ordinary stamp duty. On the 16th the bill was finally passed by a vote +of 390 to 265.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">Portugal</span> we learn that Mr. <span class="smcap">Clay</span>, having failed to secure from the +Portuguese government a compliance with the demands he was instructed to +make, asked for his passports and withdrew. The difficulty engages the +attention of the Portuguese Minister at Washington, and the Department +of State, and it is supposed that it will be amicably settled. No +details of the negotiations in progress have been made public, but it is +understood that no doubt exists as to the result.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In <span class="smcap">Germany</span> the event of the month which excites most interest in this +country, is the death of <span class="smcap">Neander</span>. Our preceding pages contain a notice +of his life, writings, and character, which renders any further mention +here unnecessary.——At Berlin the Academy of Sciences has been holding +a sitting, according to its statutes, in honor of the memory of +Leibnitz. In the course of the oration delivered on the occasion it was +stated that, the 4th of August next being the 50th anniversary of the +admission of Alexander von Humboldt as a member of the Academy, it has +been resolved, in celebration of the event, to place a marble bust of +the “Nestor of Science” in the lecture-room of the Society.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">Spain</span> there is nothing of importance. The Queen, Isabella, gave +birth to an heir, on the 13th of July, but it lived scarcely an hour, so +that the Duchess of Montpensier is still heir presumptive to the throne. +The Count of Montemolin has married a sister of the king of Naples, and +the Spanish minister, taking offense, has left that court.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">Denmark</span> there is intelligence of new hostilities. The +Schleswig-Holstein difficulty, which was supposed to have been settled, +has broken out afresh. The negotiations which had been in progress +between the five great powers, were broken off by Prussia, she declaring +that neither Austria nor Prussia could ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span> assent to considering the +provinces in question as parts of the Danish monarchy. The failure to +agree upon satisfactory terms, led both parties to prepare for renewed +hostilities, and a severe engagement took place on the 25th of July, +between the Danes and the Holsteiners, in which the latter were +defeated. The field of action was Idstedt, a small village on the +Flensburg road. The Danish army amounted to about 45,000 men, commanded +by General Von Krogh; the army of the Holsteiners to 28,000 only, +commanded at the centre by General Willisen, a Prussian volunteer; at +the right by Colonel Von der Horst, also a Prussian, and at the left by +Colonel Von der Taun, a Bavarian officer, of chivalrous courage and +great impetuosity. The battle commenced at three o’clock in the morning +with an attack of the Danes on both wings of the enemy. They were very +warmly received, and after the battle had lasted two or three hours, +they made an assault upon the centre, with infantry, cavalry, and +artillery at the same time. They were so strongly repulsed, however, +that they were compelled to retreat. An attack of their whole force, +concentrated upon the centre and right wing of the Holsteiners was more +successful, and by bringing up a reserve, after ten or twelve hours hard +fighting, they compelled the Holstein centre to give way, and by two +o’clock the army was in full retreat, but in good order. The Danes +appear to have been either too fatigued or too indolent to follow up +their advantage. The members of the Holstein government, who were in +Schleswig, fled immediately to Kiel, on hearing the battle was lost; all +the officials also left the town; the post-office was shut, the doors +locked, and all business suspended. The battle was more sanguinary than +that fought under the walls of Frederica on the 6th of July last year. +The loss on both sides has been estimated at about 7000 men in killed, +wounded, and missing—of which the Holstein party say the greater share +has fallen upon the Danes. Another engagement is said to have taken +place on the 1st of August near Mohede, in which the Danes were +defeated, with but slight loss on either side. The interference of the +great powers is anticipated.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From <span class="smcap">India</span> and the <span class="smcap">East</span> there is little news of interest. A terrible +accident occurred at Benares on the 1st of May. A fleet of thirty boats, +containing ordnance stores, was destroyed by the explosion of 3000 +barrels of gunpowder with which they were freighted. Four hundred and +twenty persons were killed on the spot, about 800 more were wounded, and +a number of houses were leveled with the ground. The cause of the +disaster remained unexplained, as not a human being was left alive who +could tell the tale.——The city of Canton has been visited with a +severe fever which has been very destructive, though it had spared the +European factories.——The great Oriental diamond, seized by the British +as part of the spoils of the Sikh war, was presented to the Queen on the +3d of July, having arrived from India a few days before. It was +discovered in the mines of Golconda three hundred years ago, and first +belonged to the Mogul emperor, the father of the great Aurungzebee. Its +shape and size are like those of the pointed end of a hen’s egg; and its +value is estimated at two millions of pounds sterling.——News has been +received of an insurrection against the Dutch government in the district +of Bantam. The insurgents attacked the town of Anjear, in the Straits of +Sunda, but, after burning the houses, were driven back to their +fastnesses by the military.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="LITERARY_NOTICES" id="LITERARY_NOTICES"></a>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">In Memoriam.</span> Boston: Ticknor, Reed, and Fields. 12mo. pp. 216.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> impressive beauty of these touching lyrics proceeds, in a great +degree, from the “sad sincerity” which so evidently inspired their +composition. In memory of a youthful friend, who was distinguished for +his rare early promise, his ripe and manifold accomplishments, and a +strange, magnetic affinity with the genius of the author, these +exquisite poems are the gushing expression of a heart touched and +softened, but not enervated by deep sorrow. The poet takes a pensive +delight in gathering up every memorial of the brother of his affections; +his fancy teems with all sweet and beautiful images to show the +tenderness of his grief; every object in external nature recalls the +lost treasure; until, after reveling in the luxury of woe, he regains a +serene tranquillity, with the lapse of many years. With the exquisite +pathos that pervades this volume, there is no indulgence in weak and +morbid sentiment. It is free from the preternatural gloom which so often +makes elegiac poetry an abomination to every healthy intellect. The +tearful bard does not allow himself to be drowned in sorrow, but draws +from its pure and bitter fountains the sources of noble inspiration and +earnest resolve. No one can read these natural records of a spirit, +wounded but not crushed, without fresh admiration of the rich poetical +resources, the firm, masculine intellect, and the unbounded wealth of +feeling, which have placed <span class="smcap">Tennyson</span> in such a lofty position among the +living poets of England.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Harper and Brothers have recently published <cite>The History of Darius</cite>, by +<span class="smcap">Jacob Abbott</span>, <cite>The English Language in its Elements and Forms</cite>, by +<span class="smcap">William C. Fowler</span>, <cite>Julia Howard</cite>, a Romance, by Mrs. <span class="smcap">Martin Bell</span>, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span><cite>Five Years of a Hunter’s Life in the Interior of South Africa</cite>, by <span class="smcap">R. +G. Cumming</span>, <cite>Health, Disease, and Remedy</cite>, by <span class="smcap">George Moore</span>, and <cite>Latter +Day Pamphlets</cite>, No. viii., by <span class="smcap">Thomas Carlyle</span>.</p> + +<p><cite>The History of Darius</cite> is one of Mr.<span class="smcap"> Abbott’s</span> popular historical +series, written in the style of easy and graceful idiomatic English +(though not always free from inaccuracies), which give a pleasant flavor +to all the productions of the author. In a neat preface, with which the +volume is introduced, Mr. Abbott explains the reasons for the mildness +and reserve with which he speaks of the errors, and often the crimes of +the persons whose history he describes. He justifies this course, both +on the ground of its intrinsic propriety, and of the authority of +Scripture, which, as he justly observes, relates the narratives of crime +“in a calm, simple, impartial, and forbearing spirit, which leads us to +condemn, the sins, but not to feel a pharisaical resentment and wrath +against the sinner.” The present volume sets forth the leading facts in +the life of Darius the Great with remarkable clearness and condensation, +and can scarcely be too highly commended, both for the use of juvenile +readers, and of those who wish to become acquainted with the subject, +but who have not the leisure to pursue a more extended course of +historical study.</p> + +<p>Professor <span class="smcap">Fowler’s</span> work on the English Language is a profound treatise +on the Philosophy of Grammar, the fruit of laborious and patient +research for many years, and an addition of unmistakable value to our +abundant philological treasures. It treats of the English Language in +its elements and forms, giving a copious history of its origin and +development, and ascending to the original principles on which its +construction is founded. The work is divided into eight parts, each of +which presents a different aspect of the subject, yet all of them, in +their mutual correlation, and logical dependence, are intended to form a +complete and symmetrical system. We are acquainted with no work on this +subject which is better adapted for a text-book in collegiate +instruction, for which purpose it is especially designed by the author. +At the same time it will prove an invaluable aid to more advanced +students of the niceties of our language, and may even be of service to +the most practiced writers, by showing them the raw material, in its +primitive state, out of which they cunningly weave together their most +finished and beautiful fabrics.</p> + +<p><cite>Julia Howard</cite> is the reprint of an Irish story of exciting interest, +which, by its powerful delineation of passion, its bright daguerreotypes +of character, and the wild intensity of its plot, must become a favorite +with the lovers of high-wrought fiction.</p> + +<p>We have given a taste of <span class="smcap">Cumming’s</span> <cite>Five Years of a Hunter’s Life</cite> in +the last number of <cite>The New Monthly Magazine</cite>, from which it will be +seen that the writer is a fierce, blood-thirsty Nimrod, whose highest +ideal is found in the destruction of wild-beasts, and who relates his +adventures with the same eagerness of passion which led him to +expatriate himself from the charms of English society in the tangled +depths of the African forest. Every page is redolent of gunpowder, and +you almost hear the growl of the victim as he falls before the unerring +shot of this mighty hunter.</p> + +<p>Dr. <span class="smcap">Moore’s</span> book on <cite>Health, Disease, and Remedy</cite> is a plain, practical, +common-sense treatise on hygiene, without confinement in the harness of +any of the modern <em>opathies</em>. His alert and cheerful spirit will prevent +the increase of hypochondria by the perusal of his volume, and his +directions are so clear and definite, that they can be easily +comprehended even by the most nervous invalid. Its purpose can not be +more happily described than in the words of the author. “It is neither a +popular compendium of physiology, hand-book of physic, an art of healing +made easy, a medical guide-book, a domestic medicine, a digest of odd +scraps on digestion, nor a dry reduction of a better book, but rather a +running comment on a few prominent truths in medical science, viewed +according to the writer’s own experience. The object has been to assist +the unprofessional reader to form a sober estimate of Physic, and enable +him to second the physician’s efforts to promote health.” Dr. Moore’s +habits of thought and expression are singularly direct, and he never +leaves you at a loss for his meaning.</p> + +<p>We can not say so much for <span class="smcap">Carlyle</span>, whose eighth number of <cite>Latter-Day +Tracts</cite>, on <em>Jesuitism</em>, brings that flaming and fantastic series to a +close, with little detriment, we presume, to the public.</p> + +<p>Phillips, Sampson, and Co. have published a critique on Carlyle, by +<span class="smcap">Elizur Wright</span>, the pungent editor of the Boston Chronotype, entitled +<cite>Perforations of the “Latter-Day Pamphlets, by one of the Eighteen +Million Bores,”</cite> in which he makes some effective hits, reducing the +strongest positions of his opponent to impalpable powder.</p> + +<p><cite>The Odd Fellows’ Offering for</cite> 1851, published by Edward Walker, is the +ninth volume of this beautiful annual, and is issued with the earliest +of its competitors for public favor. As a representative of the literary +character of the Order, it is highly creditable to the Institution. +Seven of the eleven illustrations are from original paintings by native +artists. The frontispiece, representing the Marriage of Washington, +appeals forcibly to the national sentiment, and is an appropriate +embellishment for a work dedicated to a large and increasing fraternity, +whose principles are in admirable harmony with those of our free +institutions.</p> + +<p><cite>Haw-Ho-Noo, or, Records of a Tourist</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Charles Lanman</span>, published by +Lippincott, Grambo and Co., under an inappropriate title, presents many +lively and agreeable descriptions of adventures in various journeys in +different parts of the United States. The author has a keen sense of the +beauties of nature, is always at home in the forest or at the side of +the mountain stream, and tells all sorts of stories about trout, salmon, +beavers, maple-sugar, rat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span>tle-snakes, and barbecues, with a heart-felt +unction that is quite contagious. As a writer of simple narrative, his +imagination sometimes outstrips his discretion, but every one who reads +his book will admit that he is not often surpassed for the fresh and +racy character of his anecdotes.</p> + +<p><cite>The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt</cite>, published by Harper and Brothers, as +our readers may judge from the specimens given in a former number of +this Magazine, is one of the most charming works that have lately been +issued from the English press. Leigh Hunt so easily falls into the +egotistic and ridiculous, that it is a matter of wonder how he has +escaped from them to so great a degree in the present volumes. His +vanity seems to have been essentially softened by the experience of +life, the asperities of his nature greatly worn away, and his mind +brought under the influence of a kindly and genial humor. With his rare +mental agility, his susceptibility to many-sided impressions, and his +catholic sympathy with almost every phase of character and intellect, he +could not fail to have treasured up a rich store of reminiscences, and +his personal connection with the most-celebrated literary men of his +day, gives them a spirit and flavor, which could not have been obtained +by the mere records of his individual biography. The work abounds with +piquant anecdotes of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, Byron, Keats, Lamb, +Hazlitt, and Moore—gives a detailed exposition of Hunt’s connection +with the Examiner, and his imprisonment for libel—his residence in +Italy—his return to England—and his various literary projects—and +describes with the most childlike frankness the present state of his +opinions and feelings on the manifold questions which have given a +direction to his intellectual activity through life. Whatever +impressions it may leave as to the character of the author, there can be +but one opinion as to the fascination of his easy, sprightly, gossiping +style, and the interest which attaches to the literary circles, whose +folding-doors he not ungracefully throws open.</p> + +<p>The <cite>United States Railroad Guide and Steam-boat Journal</cite>, by Holbrook +and Company, is one of the best manuals for the use of travelers now +issued by the monthly press, containing a great variety of valuable +information, in a neat and portable form.</p> + +<p><cite>Hints to Young Men on the True Relation of the Sexes</cite>, by <span class="smcap">John Ware, +M.D.</span>, is a brief treatise, prepared by a distinguished scientific man of +Boston, in which an important subject is treated with delicacy, good +sense, and an earnest spirit. It is published by Tappan, Whittimore, and +Mason, Boston.</p> + +<p>Among the publications of the last month by Lippincott, Grambo, and +Company, is the <cite>Iris</cite>, an elegant illuminated souvenir, edited by +Professor <span class="smcap">John S. Hart</span>, and comprising literary contributions from +distinguished American authors, several of whom, we notice, are from the +younger class of writers, who have already won a proud and enviable fame +by the admirable productions of their pens. In addition to the +well-written preface by the Editor, we observe original articles by +<span class="smcap">Stoddard, Boker, Caroline May, Alice Carey, Phebe Carey,</span> Rev. <span class="smcap">Charles T. +Brooks, Mary Spenser Pease, Edith May, Eliza A. Starr, Kate Campbell,</span> +and others, most of which are superior specimens of the lighter form of +periodical literature. The volume is embellished with exquisite beauty, +containing four brilliantly illuminated pages, and eight line +engravings, executed in the highest style of London art. We are pleased +to welcome so beautiful a work from the spirited and intelligent house +by which it is issued, as a promise that it will sustain the well-earned +reputation of the old establishment of Grigg, Elliot, and Co., of which +it is the successor. The head of that firm, Mr. <span class="smcap">John Grigg</span>, we may take +this occasion to remark, presents as striking a history as can be +furnished by the records of bookselling in this country. Commencing life +without the aid of any external facilities, and obtaining the highest +eminence in his profession, by a long career of industry, enterprise, +and ability, he has retired from active business with an ample fortune, +and the universal esteem of a large circle of friends. We trust that his +future years may be as happy, as his busy life has been exemplary and +prosperous.</p> + +<p>George P. Putnam has published <cite>The Chronicle of the Conquest of +Granada</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Washington Irving</span>, forming the fourteenth volume of the +beautiful revised edition of Irving’s collected works. Since the first +publication of this romantic prose-poem, the fictitious dress, in which +the inventive fancy of the author had arrayed the story, had been made +the subject of somewhat stringent criticism; Fray Antonio Agapida had +been found to belong to a Spanish branch of the family of Diedrich +Knickerbocker; and doubts were thus cast over the credibility of the +whole veracious chronicle. Mr. Irving extricates himself from the +dilemma with his usual graceful ingenuity. In a characteristic note to +this edition, he explains the circumstances in which the history had its +origin, and shows conclusively that whatever dimness may be thrown over +the identity of the worthy Fray Antonio, the work itself was constructed +from authentic documents, and is faithful in all its essential points to +historical fact. While occupied at Madrid in writing the life of +Columbus, Mr. Irving was strongly impressed with the rich materials +presented by the war of Granada, for a composition which should blend +the interest of romance with the fidelity of history. Alive as he always +is to picturesque effect, he was struck with the contrast presented by +the combatants of Oriental and European creeds, costumes, and manners; +with the hairbrained enterprises, chivalric adventures, and wild forays +through mountain regions; and with the moss-trooping assaults on +cliff-built castles and cragged fortresses, which succeeded each other +with dazzling brilliancy and variety. Fortunately in the well-stored +libraries of Madrid, he had ac<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span>cess to copious and authentic chronicles, +often in manuscript, written at the time by eye-witnesses, and in some +instances, by persons who had been actually engaged in the scenes +described. At a subsequent period, after completing the Life of +Columbus, he made an extensive tour in Andalusia, visiting the ruins of +the Moorish towns, fortresses, and castles, and the wild mountain +passes, which had been the principal theatre of the war, and passing +some time in the stately old palace of the Alhambra, the once favorite +abode of the Moorish monarchs. With this preparation, he finished the +manuscript of which he had already drawn up the general outline, +adopting the fiction of a Spanish monk as the chronicler of the history. +By this innocent stratagem, Mr. Irving intended to personify in Fray +Antonio the monkish zealots who made themselves busy in the campaigns, +marring the chivalry of the camp by the bigotry of the cloister, and +exulting in every act of intolerance toward the Moors.</p> + +<p>This ingenious explanation will give a fresh interest to the present +edition. The costume of the garrulous Agapida is still retained, +although the narrative is reduced more strictly within historical +bounds, and is enriched with new facts that have been recently brought +to light by the erudite researches of Alcántara and other diligent +explorers of this romantic field. With excellent taste, the publisher +has issued this volume in a style of typographical elegance not unworthy +the magnificent paragraphs of the golden-mouthed author.</p> + +<p><cite>The Life and Times of General John Lamb</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Isaac Q. Leake</span>, published +at Albany by J. Munsell, is an important contribution to the history of +the Revolution, compiled from original documents, many of which possess +great interest.</p> + +<p><cite>Progress in the Northwest</cite> is the title of the Annual Discourse +delivered before the Historical Society of Ohio, by the President, +<span class="smcap">William D. Gallagher</span>, and published by H. W. Derby and Co., Cincinnati. +It gives a rapid description of the progress of cultivation and +improvement in the Northwestern portion of the United States, showing +the giant steps which have been taken, especially, within the last +twenty years, on that broad and fertile domain. The conditions of future +advancement are also discussed in the spirit of philosophical analysis, +and with occasional touches of genuine eloquence.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Edward Everett’s</span> <cite>Oration at the Celebration of the Battle of Bunker +Hill</cite>, published by Redding and Co., Boston, describes some of the +leading incidents in that opening scene of the American Revolution, and +is distinguished for the rhetorical felicity, the picturesque beauty of +expression, and the patriotic enthusiasm which have given a wide +celebrity to the anniversary performances of the author. Its flowing +melody of style, combined with the impressive tones and graceful manner +of the speaker, enables us to imagine the effect which is said to have +been produced by its delivery. The ability exhibited in Mr. <span class="smcap">Everett’s</span> +expressive and luminous narrative, if devoted to an elaborate +historical composition, would leave him with but few rivals in this +department of literature.</p> + +<p><cite>Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society</cite> of Harvard University, by +<span class="smcap">Timothy Walker</span>, published by James Munroe and Co., Boston, is a +temperate discussion of the Reform Spirit of the day, abounding in +salutary cautions and judicious discriminations. The style of the +Oration savors more of the man of affairs than of the practical writer, +and its good sense and moderate tone must have commended it to the +cultivated audience before which it was delivered.</p> + +<p><cite>The Poem on the American Legend</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Bayard Taylor</span>, pronounced on the +same occasion, and published by John Bartlett, Cambridge, is a graceful +portraiture of the elements of romance and poetry in the traditions of +our country, and contains passages of uncommon energy of versification, +expressing a high order of moral and patriotic sentiment. His allusion +to the special legends of different localities are very felicitous in +their tone, and the tribute to the character of the lamented President +is a fine instance of the condensation and forcible brevity which Mr. +Taylor commands with eminent success.</p> + +<p>A useful and seasonable work, entitled <cite>Europe, Past and Present</cite>, by +<span class="smcap">Francis H. Ungewitter, LL.D.</span>, has been issued by G. P. Putnam, which +will be found to contain a mass of information, carefully arranged and +digested, of great service to the student of European Geography and +History. The author, who is a native German, has published several +extensive geographical works in his own country, which have given him +the reputation of a sound and accurate scholar in that department of +research. He appears to have made a faithful and discriminating use of +the abundant materials at his command, and has produced a work which can +not fail to do him credit in his adopted land.</p> + +<p><cite>The Architecture of Country Houses</cite>, by <span class="smcap">A. J. Downing</span>, published by D. +Appleton and Co., is from the pen of a writer whose former productions +entitle him to the rank of a standard authority on the attractive +subject of the present volume. Mr. Downing has certainly some uncommon +qualifications for the successful accomplishment of his task, which +requires no less practical experience and knowledge than a sound and +cultivated taste. He is familiar with the best publications of previous +authors; his pursuits, have led him to a thorough appreciation of the +wants and capabilities of country life; he has been trained by the +constant influence of rural scenes; and with an eye keenly susceptible +to the effect of proportion and form, he brings the refinements of true +culture and the suggestions of a vigilant common-sense to the +improvement of Rural Architecture, which he wishes to see in harmony +with the grand and beautiful scenery of this country. His remarks in the +commencement of the volume, with regard to the general significance of +architecture are worthy of profound attention. A due ob<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span>servance of the +principles, which he eloquently sets forth, would rescue the fine +localities for which nature has done so much from the monstrosities in +wood and brick with which they are so often deformed. His discussion of +the materials and modes of construction are of great practical value. +With the abundance of designs which he presents, for every style of +rural building, and the careful estimates of the expense, no one who +proposes to erect a house in the country can fail to derive great +advantage from consulting his well-written and interesting pages.</p> + +<p>Tallis, Willoughby, & Co. are publishing as serials the <cite>Adventures of +Don Quixote</cite>, translated by <span class="smcap">Jarvis</span>, and the <cite>Complete Works of +Shakspeare</cite>, edited by <span class="smcap">James Orchard Halliwell</span>. The Don Quixote is a +cheap edition, embellished with wood cuts by Tony Johannot. The +Shakspeare is illustrated with steel engravings by Rogers, Heath, +Finden, and Walker, from designs by Henry Warren, Edward Corbould, and +other English artists who are favorably known to the public. It is +intended that this edition shall contain all the writings ascribed to +the immortal dramatist, without distinction, including not only the +Poems and well-authenticated Plays, but also the Plays of doubtful +origin, or of which Shakspeare is supposed to have been only in part the +author.</p> + +<p>Herrman J. Meyer, a German publisher in this city, is issuing an edition +of <span class="smcap">Meyer’s</span> <cite>Universum</cite>, a splendid pictorial work, which is to appear in +monthly parts, each containing four engravings on steel, and twelve of +them making an annual volume with forty-eight plates. They consist of +the most celebrated views of natural scenery, and of rare works of art, +selected from prominent objects of interest in every part of the globe. +The first number contains an engraving of Bunker Hill Monument, the +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ecole Nationale</span> at Paris, Rousseau’s Hermitage at Montmorency, and the +Royal Palace at Munich, besides a well-executed vignette on the +title-page and cover. The letter-press descriptions by the author are +retained in the original language, which, in a professed American +edition, is an injudicious arrangement, serving to limit the circulation +of the work, in a great degree, to Germans, and to those familiar with +the German language.</p> + +<p>Mrs. <span class="smcap">Crowe’s</span> <cite>Night Side of Nature</cite>, published by J. S. Redfield, is +another contribution to the literature of Ghosts and Ghost-Seers, which, +like the furniture and costume of the middle ages, seems to be coming +into fashion with many curious amateurs of novelties. The reviving taste +for this kind of speculation is a singular feature of the age, showing +the prevalence of a dissatisfied and restless skepticism, rather than an +enlightened and robust faith in spiritual realities. Mrs. Crowe is a +decided, though gentle advocate of the preternatural character of the +marvelous phenomena, of which probably every country and age presents a +more or less extended record. She has collected a large mass of +incidents, which have been supposed to bear upon the subject, many of +which were communicated to her on personal authority, and were first +brought to the notice of the public in her volume. She has pursued her +researches, with incredible industry, into the traditions of various +nations, making free use of the copious erudition of the Germans in this +department, and arranging the facts or legends she has obtained with a +certain degree of historical criticism, that gives a value to her work +as an illustration of national beliefs, without reference to its +character as a <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">hortus siccus</span> of weird and marvelous stories. In point +of style, her volume is unexceptionable; its spirit is modest and +reverent; it can not be justly accused of superstition, though it +betrays a womanly instinct for the supernatural: and without being +imbued with any love of dogmas, breathes an unmistakable atmosphere of +purity and religious trust. The study of this subject can not be +recommended to the weak-minded and timorous, but an omnivorous digestion +may find a wholesome exercise of its capacity in Mrs. Crowe’s tough +revelations.</p> + +<p>A volume of Discourses, entitled <cite>Christian Thoughts on Life</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Henry +Giles</span>, has been published by Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, Boston, +consisting of a series of elaborate essays, intended to gather into a +compact form some fragments of moral experience, and to give a certain +record and order to the author’s desultory studies of man’s interior +life. Among the subjects of which it treats are The Worth of Life, the +Continuity of Life, the Discipline of Life, Weariness of Life, and +Mystery in Religion and in Life. The views presented by Mr. Giles are +evidently the fruit of profound personal reflection; they glow with the +vitality of experience; and in their tender and pleading eloquence will +doubtless commend themselves to many human sympathies. Mr. Giles has +been hitherto most favorably known to the public in this country, as a +brilliant rhetorician, and an original and piquant literary critic; in +the present volume, he displays a rare mastery of ethical analysis and +deduction.</p> + +<p>W. Phillips & Co., Cincinnati, have issued an octavo volume of nearly +seven hundred pages, composed of <cite>Lectures on the American Eclectic +System of Surgery</cite>, by <span class="smcap">Benjamin L. Hill, M.D.</span>, with over one hundred +illustrative engravings. It is based on the principles of the medical +system of which the author is a distinguished practitioner.</p> + +<p>The <cite>National Temperance Offering</cite>, edited by S. F. Cary, and published +by R. Vandien, is got up in an expensive style, and is intended as a +gift-book worthy the patronage of the advocates of the Temperance +Reform. In addition to a variety of contributions both in prose and +poetry from several able writers, it contains biographical sketches of +some distinguished Temperance men, accompanied with their portraits, +among whom we notice Rev. Dr. Beecher, Horace Greeley, John H. Hawkins, +T. P. Hunt, and others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2 class="blackletter"><a name="Fashions_for_Early_Autumn" id="Fashions_for_Early_Autumn"></a>Fashions for Early Autumn.</h2> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;"> +<img src="images/illo_10.png" width="800" height="698" alt="FIG. 1.—PROMENADE DRESS. FIG. 2.—COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY." title="FIG. 1.—PROMENADE DRESS. FIG. 2.—COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY." /> +<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig. 1.—Promenade Dress</span>. <span class="smcap">Fig. 2.—Costume for a Young Lady</span>.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fig 1. A Promenade Dress</span> of a beautiful lavender <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">taffetas</span>, the front +of the skirt trimmed with folds of the same, confined at regular +distances with seven flutes of lavender gauze ribbon, put on the reverse +of the folds; a double fluted frilling, rather narrow, encircles the +opening of the body, which is made high at the back, and closed in the +front with a fluting of ribbon similar to that on the skirt; <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">demi-long</span> +sleeves, cut up in a kind of wave at the back, so as to show the under +full sleeve of spotted white muslin. Chemisette of fulled muslin, +confined with bands of needlework. Scarf of white China <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">crape</span>, +beautifully embroidered, and finished with a deep, white, silk fringe. +Drawn <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">capote</span> of pink <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">crape</span>, adorned in the interior with +half-wreaths of green myrtle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 2. Costume For A Young Lady</span>.—A dress of white <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">barège</span> trimmed +with three deep vandyked flounces put on close to each other; high body, +formed of worked inlet, finished with a stand-up row round the throat; +the sleeves descend as low as the elbow, where they are finished with +two deep frillings, vandyked similar to the flounces. Half-long gloves +of straw-colored kid, surmounted with a bracelet of black velvet. Drawn +<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">capote</span> of white <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">crape</span>, adorned with clusters of the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rose de mott</span> +both in the interior and exterior. <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Pardessus</span> of pink <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">glacé</span> silk, +trimmed with three frillings of the same, edged with a narrow silk +fringe, which also forms a heading to the same; over each hip is a +trimming <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en tablier</span> formed of the fringe; short sleeves, trimmed with +one fulling edged with fringe; these sleeves are of the same piece as +the cape, not cut separate; the trimming over the top of the arms being +similar to that under, and formed also of fringe; this <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pardessus</span> is +perfectly round in its form, and only closes just upon the front of the +waist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Morning Caps</span> which are slightly ornamented, vary more in the way in +which they are trimmed, than in the positive form; some being trimmed +with <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chicorées</span>, wreaths of gauze ribbon, or knobs of ribbon edged with +a festooned open-work encircling a simple round of <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tulle</span>, or what is +perhaps prettier, a cluster of lace. A pretty form, differing a little +from the monotonous round, is composed of a round forming a star, the +points being cut off; these points are brought close together,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span> and are +encircled with a narrow <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bavolet</span>, the front part being formed so as to +descend just below the ears, approaching somewhat to the appearance of +the front of a capote. A pretty style of morning cap are those made of +India muslin, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">à petit papillon</span>, flat, edged with a choice Mechlin +lace, and having three <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ricochets</span> and a bunch of fancy ribbon placed +upon each side, from which depend the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">brides</span> or strings. Others are +extremely pretty, made of the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">appliqué</span> lace, rich Mechlin, or +needlework, and are sometimes ornamented with flowers, giving a +lightness to their appearance.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_11.png" width="600" height="417" alt="MORNING CAPS." title="" /> +<span class="caption smcap">Morning Caps.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 4. Morning Costume</span>.—Dress and pardessus of printed cambric muslin, +the pattern consisting of wreaths and bouquets of flowers. Jupon of +plain, white cambric muslin, edged with a border of rich open +needlework. The sleeves of the pardessus are gathered up in front of the +arm. The white under-sleeves, which do not descend to the wrists, are +finished by two rows of vandyked needlework. A small needlework collar. +Lace cap of the round form, placed very backward on the head, and +trimmed with full coques of pink and green ribbon at each ear.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illo_12.png" width="600" height="1056" alt="FIG. 4—MORNING COSTUME." title="FIG. 4—MORNING COSTUME." /> +<span class="caption smcap">Fig. 4—Morning Costume.</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="tn"> +<h2><a name="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTE" id="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTE"></a>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE.</h2> + + +<p>The table of contents has been added. Minor errors in punctuation have been corrected without note.</p> + +<p>The following typographical errors have been corrected:</p> +<div class="indent"> +Page Corrected Text<span class="rtcol2">Original had</span><br /> +435 fine view of the Firth of Forth<span class="rtcol2">Frith</span><br /> +439 when the curtains of the evening<span class="rtcol2">curttains</span><br /> +456 so I couldn’t sleep comfortable<span class="rtcol2">could’nt</span><br /> +465 splendid creature on which he is mounted<span class="rtcol2">spendid</span><br /> +486 ancient hilarity of the English peasan<span class="rtcol2">peasaat</span><br /> +496 I shall not readily forget,<span class="rtcol2">readi-</span><br /> +497 “They didn’t think so at Enghein.”<span class="rtcol2">did’nt</span><br /> +507 Andrew to be out so late<span class="rtcol2">to to</span><br /> +522 I was no sooner in bed<span class="rtcol2">was was</span><br /> +524 Were murmuring to the moon!<span class="rtcol2">to to</span><br /> +532 heavy frames, hung round the walls<span class="rtcol2">roung</span><br /> +549 he is justly punished for his offenses<span class="rtcol2">punnished</span><br /> +549 publisher gives ₤500<span class="rtcol2">gives gives</span><br /> +565 Progress of the World<span class="rtcol2">of of</span><br /> +566 be very rich in gold<span class="rtcol2">be be</span><br /> +567 published is <span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> posthumous<span class="rtcol2 smcap">Wordswort’s</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>The following words with questionable spellings have been retained: +auspicies, dacent, dacency, Elizabethean, vleys. Variant spellings of +dillettanti and dilettanti have been retained. Inconsistent hyphenation +is as per the original.</p> + +<p>The following errors which can not be corrected were noted:</p> +<div class="indent"> +<p>On page 520, it appears that one or more lines may be missing from the +original here:</p> +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">“sulphur mixed with it—and they said,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed it was putting a great affront on the”</span><br /> +</div> +<p>On page 560, in the paragraph starting “A communication from M. +Trémaux...” the protagonist is later referred to as M. Trévaux.</p></div> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume +1, No. 4, September, 1850, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 31358-h.htm or 31358-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/5/31358/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume 1, No. 4, September, 1850 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: February 22, 2010 [EBook #31358] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +HARPER'S + +NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. + +No. IV.--SEPTEMBER, 1850.--Vol. I. + + + + +[Illustration: MISS JANE PORTER] + +[From the London Art Journal.] + +MEMORIES OF MISS JANE PORTER. + +BY MRS S. C. HALL. + + +The frequent observation of foreigners is, that in England we have few +"celebrated women." Perhaps they mean that we have few who are +"notorious;" but let us admit that in either case they are right; and +may we not express our belief in its being better for women and for the +community that such is the case: "celebrity" rarely adds to the +happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The +time and attention required to attain "celebrity," must, except under +very peculiar circumstances, interfere with the faithful discharge of +those feminine duties upon which the well-doing of society depends, and +which shed so pure a halo around our English homes. Within these "homes" +our heroes--statesmen--philosophers--men of letters--men of +genius--receive their first impressions, and the _impetus_ to a faithful +discharge of their after callings as Christian subjects of the State. + +There are few of such men who do not trace back their resolution, their +patriotism, their wisdom, their learning--the nourishment of all their +higher aspirations--to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and +faith-inspired mother; one who _believed_ in a son's destiny to be +great; it may be, impelled by such belief rather by instinct than by +reason; who cherished (we can find no better word), the "Hero-feeling" +of devotion to what was right, though it might have been unworldly; and +whose deep heart welled up perpetual love and patience, toward the +over-boiling faults and frequent stumblings of a hot youth, which she +felt would mellow into a fruitful manhood. + +The strength and glory of England are in the keeping of the wives and +mothers of its men; and when we are questioned touching our "celebrated +women," we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over, +moulded, and inspired our "celebrated" men. + +Happy is the country where the laws of God and nature are held in +reverence--where each sex fulfills its peculiar duties, and renders its +sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the +Almighty--for while other nations writhe in anarchy and poverty, our own +spreads wide her arms to receive all who seek protection or need repose. + +But if we have few "celebrated" women, few, who impelled either by +circumstances or the irrepressible restlessness of genius, go forth amid +the pitfalls of publicity, and battle with the world, either as +poets--or dramatists--or moralists--or mere tale-tellers in simple +prose--or, more dangerous still, "hold the mirror up to nature" on the +stage that mimics life--if we have but few, we have, and have had +_some_, of whom we are justly proud; women of such well-balanced minds, +that toil they ever so laboriously in their public and perilous paths, +their domestic and social duties have been fulfilled with as diligent +and faithful love as though the world had never been purified and +enriched by the treasures of their feminine wisdom; yet this does not +shake our belief, that, despite the spotless and well-earned reputations +they enjoyed, the homage they received (and it has its charm), and even +the blessed consciousness of having contributed to the healthful +recreation, the improved morality, the diffusion of the best sort of +knowledge--the _woman_ would have been happier had she continued +enshrined in the privacy of domestic love and domestic duty. She may not +think this at the commencement of her career; and at its termination, if +she has lived sufficiently long to have descended, even gracefully from +her pedestal, she may often recall the homage of the _past_ to make up +for its lack in the _present_. But so perfectly is woman constituted for +the cares, the affections, the duties--the blessed duties of +_un_-public life--that if she give nature way it will whisper to her a +text that "celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman." She +must look for her happiness to HOME. We would have young women ponder +over this, and watch carefully, ere the vail is lifted, and the hard +cruel eye of public criticism fixed upon them. No profession is pastime; +still less so now than ever, when so many people are "clever," though so +few are great. We would pray those especially who direct their thoughts +to literature, to think of what they have to say, and why they wish to +say it; and above all, to weigh what they may expect from a capricious +public, against the blessed shelter and pure harmonies of private +life.[A] + +But we have had some--and still have some--"celebrated" women of whom we +have said "we may be justly proud." We have done pilgrimage to the +shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly "domestic" that the +Corinthian beauty of her character would never have been matter of +history, but for the wickedness of a bad king. We have recorded the +hours spent with Hannah More; the happy days passed with, and the years +invigorated by Maria Edgeworth. We might recall the stern and faithful +puritanism of Maria Jane Jewsbury; and the Old World devotion of the +true and high-souled daughter of Israel--Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones +of Felicia Heman's poetry linger still among all who appreciate the holy +sympathies of religion and virtue. We could dwell long and profitably on +the enduring patience and life-long labor of Barbara Hofland, and steep +a diamond in tears to record the memories of L.E.L. We could--alas, +alas! barely five-and-twenty years' acquaintance with literature and its +ornaments, and the brilliant catalogue is but a _Momento Mori_! Perhaps +of all this list, Maria Edgworth's life was the happiest; simply because +she was the most retired, the least exposed to the gaze and observation +of the world, the most occupied by loving duties toward the most united +circle of old and young we ever saw assembled in one happy home. + +The very young have never, perhaps read one of the tales of a lady whose +reputation, as a novelist, was in its zenith when Walter Scott published +his first novel. We desire to place a chaplet upon the grave of a woman +once "celebrated" all over the known world; yet who drew all her +happiness from the lovingness of home and friends, while her life was as +pure as her renown was extensive. + +In our own childhood romance reading was prohibited, but earnest +entreaty procured an exception in favor of the "Scottish Chiefs." It was +the bright summer, and we read it by moonlight, only disturbed by the +murmur of the distant ocean. We read it, crouched in the deep recess of +the nursery window; we read it until moonlight and morning met, and the +breakfast bell ringing out into the soft air from the old gable, found +us at the end of the fourth volume. Dear old times! when it would have +been deemed little less than sacrilege to crush a respectable romance +into a shilling volume, and our mammas considered _only_ a five volume +story curtailed of its just proportions. + +Sir William Wallace has never lost his heroic ascendency over us, and we +have steadily resisted every temptation to open the "popular edition" of +the long-loved romance, lest what people will call "the improved state +of the human mind," might displace the sweet memory of the mingled +admiration and indignation that chased each other, while we read and +wept, without ever questioning the truth of the absorbing narrative. + +Yet, the "Scottish Chiefs" scarcely achieved the popularity of "Thaddeus +of Warsaw," the first romance originated by the active brain and +singularly constructive power of Jane Porter, produced at an almost +girlish age. + +The hero of "Thaddeus of Warsaw" was really Kosciuszko, the beloved +pupil of George Washington, the grandest and purest patriot the Modern +World has known. The enthusiastic girl was moved to its composition by +the stirring times in which she lived; and a personal observation of, +and acquaintance with some of those brave men whose struggles for +liberty only ceased with their exile, or their existence. + +Miss Porter placed her standard of excellence on high ground, and--all +gentle-spirited as was her nature--it was firm and unflinching toward +what she believed the right and true. We must not, therefore, judge her +by the depressed state of "feeling" in these times, when its +demonstration is looked upon as artificial or affected. Toward the +termination of the last and the commencement of the present century, the +world was roused into an interest and enthusiasm, which now we can +scarcely appreciate or account for; the sympathies of England were +awakened by the terrible revolutions of France, and the desolation of +Poland; as a principle, we hated Napoleon, though he had neither act nor +part in the doings of the democrats; and the sea-songs of Dibdin, which +our youth _now_ would call uncouth and ungraceful rhymes, were key-notes +to public feeling; the English of that time were thoroughly "awake," +the British Lion had not slumbered through a thirty years' peace. We +were a nation of soldiers and sailors, and patriots; not of mingled +cotton-spinners and railway speculators and angry protectionists; we do +not say which state of things is best or worst, we desire merely to +account for what may be called the taste for _heroic_ literature at that +time, and the taste for--we really hardly know what to call +it--literature of the present, made up, as it too generally is, of +shreds and patches--bits of gold and bits of tinsel--things written in a +hurry to be read in a hurry, and never thought of afterward--suggestive +rather than reflective, at the best; and we must plead guilty to a too +great proneness to underrate what our fathers probably overrated. + +At all events we must bear in mind, while reading or thinking over Miss +Porter's novels, that, in her day, even the exaggeration of enthusiasm +was considered good tone and good taste. How this enthusiasm was +_fostered_, not subdued, can be gathered by the author's ingenious +preface to the, we believe, tenth edition of "Thaddeus of Warsaw." + +This story brought her abundant honors, and rendered her society, as +well as the society of her sister and brother, sought for by all who +aimed at a reputation for taste and talent. Mrs. Porter, on her +husband's death (he was the younger son of a well-connected Irish +family, born in Ireland, in or near Coleraine, we believe, and a major +in the Enniskillen dragoons), sought a residence for her family in +Edinburgh, where education and good society are attainable to persons of +moderate fortunes, if they are "well born;" but the extraordinary +artistic skill of her son Robert required a wider field, and she brought +her children to London sooner than she had intended, that his promising +talents might be cultivated. We believe the greater part of "Thaddeus of +Warsaw" was written in London, either in St. Martin's-lane, +Newport-street, or Gerard-street, Soho (for in these three streets the +family lived after their arrival in the metropolis); though as soon as +Robert Ker Porter's abilities floated him on the stream, his mother and +sisters retired, in the brightness of their fame and beauty, to the +village of Thames Ditton, a residence they loved to speak of as their +"home." The actual labor of "Thaddeus"--her first novel--must have been +considerable; for testimony was frequently borne to the fidelity of its +localities, and Poles refused to believe that the author had not visited +Poland; indeed, she had a happy power in describing localities. + +It was on the publication of Miss Porter's two first works in the German +language that their author was honored by being made a Lady of the +Chapter of St. Joachim, and received the gold cross of the order from +Wurtemberg; but "The Scottish Chiefs" was never so popular on the +continent as "Thaddeus of Warsaw," although Napoleon honored it with an +interdict, to prevent its circulation in France. If Jane Porter owed +her Polish inspirations so peculiarly to the tone of the times in which +she lived, she traces back, in her introduction to the latest edition of +"The Scottish Chiefs," her enthusiasm in the cause of Sir William +Wallace to the influence of an old "Scotch wife's" tales and ballads +produced upon her mind while in early childhood. She wandered amid what +she describes as "beautiful green banks," which rose in natural terraces +behind her mother's house, and where a cow and a few sheep occasionally +fed. This house stood alone, at the head of a little square, near the +high school; the distinguished Lord Elchies formerly lived in the house, +which was very ancient, and from those green banks it commanded a fine +view of the Firth of Forth. While gathering "_gowans_" or other wild +flowers for her infant sister (whom she loved more dearly than her life, +during the years they lived in most tender and affectionate +companionship), she frequently encountered this aged woman with her +knitting in her hand; and she would speak to the eager and intelligent +child of the blessed quiet of the land, where the cattle were browsing +without fear of an enemy; and then she would talk of the awful times of +the brave Sir William Wallace, when he fought for Scotland "against a +cruel tyrant; like unto them whom Abraham overcame when he recovered +Lot, with all his herds and flocks, from the proud foray of the robber +kings of the South," who, she never failed to add, "were all rightly +punished for oppressing the stranger in a foreign land! for the Lord +careth for the stranger." Miss Porter says that this woman never omitted +mingling pious allusions with her narrative, "Yet she was a person of +low degree, dressed in a coarse woolen gown, and a plain _Mutch_ cap +clasped under the chin with a silver brooch, which her father had worn +at the battle of Culloden." Of course she filled with tales of Sir +William Wallace and the Bruce, the listening ears of the lovely Saxon +child who treasured them in her heart and brain, until they fructified +in after years into the "Scottish Chiefs." To these two were added "The +Pastor's Fireside," and a number of other tales and romances; she +contributed to several annuals and magazines, and always took pains to +keep up the reputation she had won, achieving a large share of the +popularity, to which, as an author, she never looked for happiness. No +one could be more alive to praise or more grateful for attention, but +the heart of a genuine, pure, loving woman, beat within Jane Porter's +bosom, and she was never drawn _out_ of her domestic circle by the +flattery that has spoiled so many, men as well as women. Her mind was +admirably balanced by her home affections, which remained unsullied and +unshaken to the end of her days. She had, in common with her three +brothers and her charming sister, the advantage of a wise and loving +mother--a woman pious without cant, and worldly-wise without being +worldly. Mrs. Porter was born at Durham, and when very young bestowed +her hand and heart on Major Porter; an old friend of the family assures +us that two or three of their children were born in Ireland, and that +certainly Jane was among the number;[B] although she left Ireland when +in early youth, perhaps almost an infant, she certainly must be +considered "Irish," as her father was so both by birth and descent, and +esteemed during his brief life as a brave and generous gentleman; he +died young, leaving his lovely widow in straightened circumstances, +having only her widow's pension to depend on. The eldest son--afterward +Colonel Porter--was sent to school by his grandfather. + +We have glanced briefly at Sir Robert Ker Porter's wonderful talents, +and Anna Maria, when in her twelfth year, rushed, as Jane acknowledged, +"prematurely into print." Of Anna Maria we knew personally but very +little; enough, however, to recall with a pleasant memory her readiness +in conversation, and her bland and cheerful manners. No two sisters +could have been more different in bearing and appearance: Maria was a +delicate blonde, with a _riant_ face, and an animated manner--we had +said almost _peculiarly Irish_--rushing at conclusions, where her more +thoughtful and careful sister paused to consider and calculate. The +beauty of Jane was statuesque, her deportment serious yet cheerful, a +seriousness quite as natural as her younger sister's gayety; they both +labored diligently, but Anna Maria's labor was sport when compared to +her elder sister's careful toil; Jane's mind was of a more lofty order, +she was intense, and felt more than she said, while Anna Maria often +said more than she felt; they were a delightful contrast, and yet the +harmony between them was complete; and one of the happiest days we ever +spent, while trembling on the threshold of literature, was with them at +their pretty road-side cottage, in the village of Esher, before the +death of their venerable and dearly-beloved mother, whose rectitude and +prudence had both guided and sheltered their youth, and who lived to +reap with them the harvest of their industry and exertion. We remember +the drive there, and the anxiety as to how those very "clever ladies" +would look, and what they would say; we talked over the various letters +we had received from Jane, and thought of the cordial invitation to +their cottage--their "mother's cottage"--as they always called it. We +remember the old white friendly spaniel who looked at us with blinking +eyes, and preceded us up-stairs; we remember the formal, old-fashioned +courtesy of the venerable old lady, who was then nearly eighty--the blue +ribbons and good-natured frankness of Anna Maria, and the noble courtesy +of Jane, who received visitors as if she granted an audience; this +manner was natural to her; it was only the manner of one whose thoughts +have dwelt more on heroic deeds, and lived more with heroes than with +actual living men and women; the effect of this, however, soon passed +away, but not so the fascination which was in all she said and did. Her +voice was soft and musical, and her conversation addressed to one person +rather than to the company at large, while Maria talked rapidly to every +one, or _for_ every one who chose to listen. How happily the hours +passed! we were shown some of those extraordinary drawings of Sir +Robert, who gained an artist's reputation before he was twenty, and +attracted the attention of West and Shee[C] in his mere boyhood. We +heard all the interesting particulars of his panoramic picture of the +Storming of Seringapatam, which, the first of its class, was known half +over the world. We must not, however, be misunderstood--there was +neither personal nor family egotism in the Porters; they invariably +spoke of each other with the tenderest affection--but unless the +conversation was _forced_ by their friends, they never mentioned their +own, or each other's works, while they were most ready to praise what +was excellent in the works of others; they spoke with pleasure of their +sojourns in London; while their mother said, it was much wiser and +better for young ladies who were not rich, to live quietly in the +country, and escape the temptations of luxury and display. At that time +the "young ladies" seemed to us certainly _not_ young; that was about +two-and-twenty years ago, and Jane Porter was seventy-five when she +died. They talked much of their previous dwelling at Thames Ditton, of +the pleasant neighborhood they enjoyed there, though their mother's +health and their own had much improved since their residence on +Esher-hill; their little garden was bounded at the back by the beautiful +park of Claremont, and the front of the house overlooked the leading +roads, broken as they are by the village green, and some noble elms. The +view is crowned by the high trees of Esher-place, opening from the +village on that side of the brow of the hill. Jane pointed out the +_locale_ of the proud Cardinal Wolsey's domain, inhabited during the +days of his power over Henry VIII., and in their cloudy evening, when +that capricious monarch's favor changed to bitterest hate. It was the +very spot to foster her high romance, while she could at the same time +enjoy the sweets of that domestic converse she loved best of all. We +were prevented by the occupations and heart-beatings of our own literary +labors from repeating this visit; and in 1831, four years after these +well-remembered hours, the venerable mother of a family so distinguished +in literature and art, rendering their names known and honored wherever +art and letters flourish, was called HOME. The sisters, who had resided +ten years at Esher, left it, intending to sojourn for a time with their +second brother, Doctor Porter, (who commenced his career as a surgeon in +the navy) in Bristol; but within a year the youngest, the +light-spirited, bright-hearted Anna Maria died: her sister was +dreadfully shaken by her loss, and the letters we received from her +after this bereavement, though containing the outpourings of a sorrowing +spirit, were full of the certainty of that reunion hereafter which +became the hope of her life. She soon resigned her cottage home at +Esher, and found the affectionate welcome she so well deserved in many +homes, where friends vied with each other to fill the void in her +sensitive heart. She was of too wise a nature, and too sympathizing a +habit, to shut out new interests and affections, but her _old ones_ +never withered, nor were they ever replaced; were the love of such a +sister-friend--the watchful tenderness and uncompromising love of a +mother--ever "replaced," to a lonely sister or a bereaved daughter! Miss +Porter's pen had been laid aside for some time, when suddenly she came +before the world as the editor of "Sir Edward Seward's Narrative," and +set people hunting over old atlases to find out the island where he +resided. The whole was a clever fiction; yet Miss Porter never confided +its authorship, we believe, beyond her family circle; perhaps the +correspondence and documents, which are in the hands of one of her +kindest friends (her executor), Mr. Shepherd, may throw some light upon +a subject which the "Quarterly" honored by an article. We think the +editor certainly used her pen, as well as her judgment, in the work, and +we have imagined that it might have been written by the family circle, +more in sport than in earnest, and then produced to serve a double +purpose. + +After her sister's death Miss Jane Porter was afflicted with so severe +an illness, that we, in common with her other friends, thought it +impossible she could carry out her plan of journeying to St. Petersburgh +to visit her brother, Sir Robert Ker Porter, who had been long united to +a Russian princess, and was then a widower; her strength was fearfully +reduced; her once round figure become almost spectral, and little beyond +the placid and dignified expression of her noble countenance remained to +tell of her former beauty; but her resolve was taken; she wished, she +said, to see once more her youngest and most beloved brother, so +distinguished in several careers, almost deemed incompatible--as a +painter, an author, a soldier, and a diplomatist, and nothing could turn +her from her purpose: she reached St. Petersburgh in safety, and with +apparently improved health, found her brother as much courted and +beloved there as in his own land, and his daughter married to a Russian +of high distinction. Sir Robert longed to return to England. He did not +complain of any illness, and every thing was arranged for their +departure; his final visits were paid, all but one to the Emperor, who +had ever treated him as a friend; the day before his intended journey he +went to the palace, was graciously received, and then drove home, but +when the servant opened the carriage-door at his own residence he was +dead! One sorrow after another pressed heavily upon her, yet she was +still the same sweet, gentle, holy-minded woman she had ever been, +bending with Christian faith to the will of the Almighty--"biding her +time." + +[Illustration: JANE PORTER'S COTTAGE AT ESHER.] + +How differently would she have "watched and waited" had she been tainted +by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of "literary +reputation." While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the success +of those who scramble up--where she bore the standard to the heights--of +Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing some literary +"Tyro" to those who could aid or advise a future career. We can speak +from experience of the warm interest she took in the Hospital for the +cure of Consumption, and the Governesses' Benevolent Institution; during +the progress of the latter, her health was painfully feeble, yet she +used personal influence for its success, and worked with her own hands +for its bazaars. She was ever aiding those who could not aid themselves; +and all her thoughts, words, and deeds, were evidence of her clear, +powerful mind, and kindly loving heart; her appearance in the London +_coteries_ was always hailed with interest and pleasure; to the young +she was especially affectionate; but it was in the quiet mornings, or in +the long twilight evenings of summer, when visiting her cherished +friends at Shirley Park, in Kensington-square, or wherever she might be +located for the time--it was then that her former spirit revived and she +poured forth anecdote and illustration, and the store of many years' +observation, filtered by experience and purified by that delightful +faith to which she held--that "all things work together for good to them +that love the Lord." She held this in practice, even more than in +theory: you saw her chastened yet hopeful spirit beaming forth from her +gentle eyes, and her sweet smile can never be forgotten. The last time +we saw her, was about two years ago--in Bristol--at her brother, Dr. +Porter's house in Portland-square: then she could hardly stand without +assistance, yet she never complained of her own suffering or +feebleness--all her anxiety was about the brother--then dangerously ill, +and now the last of "his race." Major Porter, it will be remembered, +left five children, and these have left only one descendant--the +daughter of Sir Robert Ker Porter and the Russian Princess whom he +married, a young Russian lady, whose present name we do not even know. + +We did not think at our last leave-taking that Miss Porter's fragile +frame could have so long withstood the Power that takes away all we hold +most dear; but her spirit was at length summoned, after a few days' +total insensibility, on the 24th of May. + +We were haunted by the idea that the pretty cottage at Esher, where we +spent those happy hours, had been treated even as "Mrs. Porter's +Arcadia" at Thames Ditton--now altogether removed; and it was with a +melancholy pleasure we found it the other morning in nothing changed; it +was almost impossible to believe that so many years had passed since our +last visit. While Mr. Fairholt was sketching the cottage, we knocked at +the door, and were kindly permitted by two gentle sisters, who now +inhabit it, to enter the little drawing-room and walk round the garden; +except that the drawing-room has been re-papered and painted, and that +there were no drawings and no flowers, the room was not in the least +altered; yet to us it seemed like a sepulchre, and we rejoiced to +breathe the sweet air of the little garden, and listen to a nightingale, +whose melancholy cadence harmonized with our feelings. + +"Whenever you are at Esher," said the devoted daughter, the last time we +conversed with her, "do visit my mother's tomb." We did so. A cypress +flourishes at the head of the grave; and the following touching +inscription is carved on the stone: + + HERE SLEEPS IN JESUS A CHRISTIAN WIDOW + + JANE PORTER + OBIIT JUNE 18TH, 1831, AETAT. 86; + + THE BELOVED MOTHER OF + W. PORTER, M.D., OF SIR ROBERT KER PORTER, + AND OF JANE AND ANNA MARIA PORTER, + WHO MOURN IN HOPE, HUMBLY TRUSTING TO BE BORN + AGAIN WITH HER UNTO THE BLESSED KINGDOM + OF THEIR LORD AND SAVIOUR. + RESPECT HER GRAVE, FOR SHE MINISTERED TO THE POOR + +[Illustration] + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] In support of this opinion, which we know is opposed to the popular +feeling of many in the present day, we venture to quote what Miss Porter +herself repeats, as said to her by Madame de Stael: "She frequently +praised my revered mother for the retired manner in which she maintained +her little domestic establishment, _yielding her daughters to society, +but not to the world_." We pray those we love, to mark the delicate and +most true distinction, between "society" and the "world." "I was set on +a stage," continued De Stael, "I was set on a stage, at a child's age, +to be listened to as a wit and worshiped for my premature judgment. I +drank adulation as my soul's nourishment, _and I cannot now live without +its poison; it has been my bane_, never an aliment. My heart ever sighed +for happiness, and I ever lost it, when I thought it approaching my +grasp. I was admired, made an idol, _but never beloved_. I do not accuse +my parents for having made this mistake, but I have not repeated it in +my Albertine" (her daughter.) "She shall not + + 'Seek for love, and fill her arms with bays.' + +I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade." + +[B] Miss Porter never told me she was an Irishwoman, but once she +questioned me concerning my own parentage and place of birth; and upon +my explaining that my mother was an English woman, my father Irish, and +that I was born in Ireland, which I quitted early in life, she observed +_her own circumstances were very similar to mine_. For my own part, I +have no doubt that she was Irish by birth and by descent on the father's +side, but it will be no difficult matter to obtain direct evidence of +the facts; and we hope that some Irish patriotic friend will make due +inquiries on the subject. During her life, I had no idea of her +connection with Ireland, or I should certainly have ascertained if my +own country had a claim of which it may be justly proud. + +[C] In his early days the President of the Royal Academy painted a very +striking portrait of Jane Porter, as "Miranda," and Harlowe painted her +in the canoness dress of the order of St. Joachim. + + + + +[From the Gallery of Nature.] + +SHOOTING STARS AND METEORIC SHOWERS. + + +[Illustration] + +From every region of the globe and in all ages of time within the range +of history, exhibitions of apparent instability in the heavens have been +observed, when the curtains of the evening have been drawn. Suddenly, a +line of light arrests the eye, darting like an arrow through a varying +extent of space, and in a moment the firmament is as sombre as before. +The appearance is exactly that of a star falling from its sphere, and +hence the popular title of shooting star applied to it. The apparent +magnitudes of these meteorites are widely different, and also their +brilliancy. Occasionally, they are far more resplendent than the +brightest of the planets, and throw a very perceptible illumination upon +the path of the observer. A second or two commonly suffices for the +individual display, but in some instances it has lasted several minutes. +In every climate it is witnessed, and at all times of the year, but most +frequently in the autumnal months. As far back as records go, we meet +with allusions to these swift and evanescent luminous travelers. +Minerva's hasty flight from the peaks of Olympus to break the truce +between the Greeks and Trojans, is compared by Homer to the emission of +a brilliant star. Virgil, in the first book of the Georgics, mentions +the shooting stars as prognosticating weather changes: + + "And on, before tempestuous winds arise, + The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies, + And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night + With sweeping glories and long trains of light." + +Various hypotheses have been framed to explain the nature and origin of +these remarkable appearances. When electricity began to be understood, +this was thought to afford a satisfactory explanation, and the shooting +stars were regarded by Beccaria and Vassali as merely electrical sparks. +When the inflammable nature of the gases became known, Lavosier and +Volta supposed an accumulation of hydrogen in the higher regions of the +atmosphere, because of its inferior density, giving rise by ignition to +the meteoric exhibitions. While these theories of the older philosophers +have been shown to be untenable, there is still great obscurity resting +upon the question, though we have reason to refer the phenomena to a +cause exterior to the bounds of our atmosphere. Upon this ground, the +subject assumes a strictly astronomical aspect, and claims a place in a +treatise on the economy of the solar system. + +The first attempt accurately to investigate these elegant meteors was +made by two university students, afterward Professors Brandes of +Leipsic, and Benzenberg of Dusseldorf, in the year 1798. They selected a +base line of 46,200 feet, somewhat less than nine English miles, and +placed themselves at its extremities on appointed nights, for the +purpose of ascertaining their average altitude and velocity. Out of +twenty-two appearances identified as the same, they found, + + 7 under 45 miles + 9 between 45 and 90 miles + 5 above 90 miles + 1 above 140 miles. + +The greatest observed velocity gave twenty-five miles in a second. A +more extensive plan was organized by Brandes in the year 1823, and +carried into effect in the neighborhood of Breslaw. Out of ninety-eight +appearances, the computed heights were, + + 4 under 15 miles + 15 from 15 to 30 miles + 22 from 30 to 45 miles + 33 from 45 to 70 miles + 13 from 70 to 90 miles + 6 above 90 miles + 5 from 140 to 460 miles. + +The velocities were between eighteen and thirty-six miles in a second, +an average velocity far greater than that of the earth in its orbit. + +The rush of luminous bodies through the sky of a more extraordinary +kind, though a rare occurrence, has repeatedly been observed. They are +usually discriminated from shooting stars, and known by the vulgar as +fire-balls; but probably both proceed from the same cause, and are +identical phenomena. They have sometimes been seen of large volume, +giving an intense light, a hissing noise accompanying their progress, +and a loud explosion attending their termination. In the year 1676, a +meteor passed over Italy about two hours after sunset, upon which +Montanari wrote a treatise. It came over the Adriatic Sea as if from +Dalmatia, crossed the country in the direction of Rimini and Leghorn, a +loud report being heard at the latter place, and disappeared upon the +sea toward Corsica. A similar visitor was witnessed all over England, in +1718, and forms the subject of one of Halley's papers to the Royal +Society. Sir Hans Sloane was one of its spectators. Being abroad at the +time of its appearance, at a quarter past eight at night, in the streets +of London, his path was suddenly and intensely illuminated. This, he +apprehended at first, might arise from a discharge of rockets; but found +a fiery object in the heavens, moving after the manner of a falling +star, in a direct line from the Pleiades to below the girdle of Orion. +Its brightness was so vivid, that several times he was obliged to turn +away his eyes from it. The stars disappeared, and the moon, then nine +days old, and high near the meridian, the sky being very clear, was so +effaced by the lustre of the meteor as to be scarcely seen. It was +computed to have passed over three hundred geographical miles in a +minute, at the distance of sixty miles above the surface, and was +observed at different extremities of the kingdom. The sound of an +explosion was heard through Devon and Cornwall, and along the opposite +coast of Bretagne. Halley conjectured this and similar displays to +proceed from combustible vapors aggregated on the outskirts of the +atmosphere, and suddenly set on fire by some unknown cause. But since +his time, the fact has been established, of the actual fall of heavy +bodies to the earth from surrounding space, which requires another +hypothesis. To these bodies the term aerolites is applied, signifying +atmospheric stones, from [Greek: aer], the atmosphere, and [Greek: lithos], a stone. While +many meteoric appearances may simply arise from electricity, or from the +inflammable gases, it is now certain, from the proved descent of +aerolites, that such bodies are of extra-terrestrial origin. + +Antiquity refers us to several objects as having descended from the +skies, the gifts of the immortal gods. Such was the Palladium of Troy, +the image of the goddess of Ephesus, and the sacred shield of Numa. The +folly of the ancients in believing such narrations has often been the +subject of remark; but, however fabulous the particular cases referred +to, the moderns have been compelled to renounce their skepticism +respecting the fact itself, of the actual transition of substances from +celestial space to terrestrial regions; and no doubt the ancient faith +upon this subject was founded on observed events. The following table, +taken from the work of M. Izarn, _Des Pierres tombees du Ciel_, exhibits +a collection of instances of the fall of aerolites, together with the +eras of their descent, and the persons on whose evidence the facts rest; +but the list might be largely extended. + + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Substance. |Place. |Period. |Authority. | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Under Tullus |Livy. | + | | | Hostilius | | + |Shower of stones |At Rome |Consuls C. Martius |J. Obsequens. | + | | | and M. Torquatus | | + |Shower of iron |In Lucania |Year before the |Pliny. | + | | | defeat of Crassus | | + |Shower of mercury |In Italy | |Dion. | + |Large stone |Near the river |Second year of the |Pliny. | + | | Negos, Thrace | 78th Olympiad | | + |Three large stones |In Thrace |Year before J. C. |Ch. of Count | + | | | 452 | Marcellin. | + |Shower of fire |At Quesnoy |January 4, 1717 |Geoffroy le | + | | | | Cadet. | + |Stone of 72lbs. |Near Larissa, |January 1706 |Paul Lucas. | + | | Macedonia | | | + |About 1200 stones } | | | | + | --one of 120lbs.} |Near Padua in |In 1510 |Carden, Varcit. | + |Another of 60lbs. } | Italy | | | + |Another of 59lbs. |On Mount Vasier, |November 27, 1627 |Gassendi. | + | | Provence | | | + |Shower of sand for |In the Atlantic |April 6, 1719 |Pere la Fuillee. | + | 15 hours | | | | + |Shower of sulphur |Sodom and Gomorra | |Moses. | + |Sulphurous rain |In the Duchy of |In 1658 |Spangenburgh. | + | | Mansfield | | | + |The same |Copenhagen |In 1646 |Olaus Wormius. | + |Shower of sulphur |Brunswick |October 1721 |Siegesbaer. | + |Shower of unknown |Ireland |In 1695 |Muschenbroeck. | + | matter | | | | + |Two large stones, |Liponas, in |September 1753 |Lalande. | + | weighing 20lbs. | Bresse | | | + |A stony mass |Niort, Normandy |In 1750 |Lalande. | + |A stone of |At Luce, in Le |September 13, 1768 |Bachelay. | + | 7-1/2lbs. | Maine | | | + |A stone |At Aire, in |In 1768 |Gursonde de | + | | Artois | | Boyaval. | + |A stone |In Le Cotentin |In 1768 |Morand. | + |Extensive shower |Environs of Agen |July 24, 1790 |St. Amand, | + | of stones | | | Baudin, &c. | + |About twelve stones |Sienna, Tuscany |July 1794 |Earl of Bristol. | + |A large stone of |Wold Cottage, |December 13, 1795 |Captain Topham. | + | 56lbs. | Yorkshire | | | + |A stone of about |Sale, Department |March 17, 1798 |Lelievre and De | + | 20lbs. | of the Rhone | | Dree. | + |A stone of 10lbs. |In Portugal |February 19, 1796 |Southey. | + |Shower of stones |Benares, East |December 19, 1798 |J. Lloyd | + | | Indies | | Williams, Esq. | + |Shower of stones |At Plaun, near |July 3, 1753 |B. de Born. | + | | Tabor, Bohemia | | | + |Mass of iron, |America |April 5, 1800 |Philosophical | + | 70 cubic feet | | | Mag. | + |Mass of iron, |Abakauk, Siberia |Very old |Pallas, Chladni, | + | 14 quintals | | | &c. | + |Shower of stones |Barboutan, near |July 1789 |Darcet Jun., | + | | Roquefort | | Lomet, &c. | + |Large stone of |Ensisheim, Upper |November 7, 1492 |Butenschoen. | + | 260lbs. | Rhine | | | + |Two stones, 200 |Near Verona |In 1762 |Acad. de Bourd. | + | and 300lbs. | | | | + |A stone of 20lbs. |Sules, near Ville |March 12, 1798 |De Dree. | + | | Franche | | | + |Several stones from |Near L'Aigle, |April 26, 1803 |Fourcroy. | + | 10 to 17lbs. | Normandy | | | + +--------------------+------------------+-------------------+-----------------+ + +Some of the instances in the table are of sufficient interest to deserve +a notice. + +A singular relation respecting the stone of Ensisheim on the Rhine, at +which philosophy once smiled incredulously, regarding it as one of the +romances of the middle ages, may now be admitted to sober attention as a +piece of authentic history. A homely narrative of its fall was drawn up +at the time by order of the Emperor Maximilian, and deposited with the +stone in the church. It may thus be rendered: "In the year of the Lord +1492, on Wednesday, which was Martinmas eve, the 7th of November, a +singular miracle occurred; for, between eleven o'clock and noon, there +was a loud clap of thunder, and a prolonged confused noise, which was +heard at a great distance; and a stone fell from the air, in the +jurisdiction of Ensisheim, which weighed two hundred and sixty pounds, +and the confused noise was, besides, much louder than here. Then a child +saw it strike on a field in the upper jurisdiction, toward the Rhine and +Inn, near the district of Giscano, which was sown with wheat, and it did +it no harm, except that it made a hole there: and then they conveyed it +from that spot; and many pieces were broken from it; which the landvogt +forbade. They, therefore, caused it to be placed in the church, with the +intention of suspending it as a miracle: and there came here many people +to see this stone. So there were remarkable conversations about this +stone: but the learned said that they knew not what it was; for it was +beyond the ordinary course of nature that such a large stone should +smite the earth from the height of the air; but that it was really a +miracle of God; for, before that time, never any thing was heard like +it, nor seen, nor described. When they found that stone, it had entered +into the earth to the depth of a man's stature, which every body +explained to be the will of God that it should be found; and the noise +of it was heard at Lucerne, at Vitting, and in many other places, so +loud that it was believed that houses had been overturned: and as the +King Maximilian was here the Monday after St. Catharine's day of the +same year, his royal excellency ordered the stone which had fallen to be +brought to the castle, and, after having conversed a long time about it +with the noblemen, he said that the people of Ensisheim should take it, +and order it to be hung up in the church, and not to allow any body to +take any thing from it. His excellency, however, took two pieces of it; +of which he kept one, and sent the other to the Duke Sigismund of +Austria: and they spoke a great deal about this stone, which they +suspended in the choir, where it still is; and a great many people came +to see it." Contemporary writers confirm the substance of this +narration, and the evidence of the fact exists; the aerolite is +precisely identical in its chemical composition with that of other +meteoric stones. It remained for three centuries suspended in the +church, was carried off to Colmar during the French revolution; but has +since been restored to its former site, and Ensisheim rejoices in the +possession of the relic. A piece broken from it is in the Museum of the +_Jardin des Plantes_ at Paris. + +The celebrated Gassendi was an eye-witness of a similar event. In the +year 1627, on the 27th of November, the sky being quite clear, he saw a +burning stone fall in the neighborhood of Nice, and examined the mass. +While in the air it appeared to be about four feet in diameter, was +surrounded by a luminous circle of colors like a rainbow, and its fall +was accompanied by a noise like the discharge of artillery. Upon +inspecting the substance, he found it weighed 59 lbs., was extremely +hard, of a dull, metallic color, and of a specific gravity considerably +greater than that of common marble. Having only this solitary instance +of such an occurrence, Gassendi concluded that the mass came from some +of the mountains of Provence, which had been in a transient state of +volcanic activity. Instances of the same phenomenon occurred in the +years 1672, 1756, and 1768; but the facts were generally doubted by +naturalists, and considered as electrical appearances, magnified by +popular ignorance and timidity. A remarkable example took place in +France in the year 1790. Between nine and ten o'clock at night, on the +24th of July, a luminous ball was seen traversing the atmosphere with +great rapidity, and leaving behind it a train of light; a loud explosion +was then heard, accompanied with sparks which flew off in all +directions; this was followed by a shower of stones over a considerable +extent of ground, at various distances from each other, and of different +sizes. A _proces verbal_ was drawn up, attesting the circumstance, +signed by the magistrates of the municipality, and by several hundreds +of persons inhabiting the district. This curious document is literally +as follows: "In the year one thousand seven hundred and ninety, and the +thirtieth day of the month of August, we, the Lieut. Jean Duby, mayor, +and Louis Massillon, procurator of the commune of the municipality of La +Grange-de-Juillac, and Jean Darmite, resident in the parish of La +Grange-de-Juillac, certify in truth and verity, that on Saturday, the +24th of July last, between nine and ten o'clock, there passed a great +fire, and after it we heard in the air a very loud and extraordinary +noise; and about two minutes after there fell stones from heaven; but +fortunately there fell only a very few, and they fell about ten paces +from one another in some places, and in others nearer, and, finally, in +some other places farther; and falling, most of them, of the weight of +about half a quarter of a pound each, some others of about half a pound, +like that found in our parish of La Grange; and on the borders of the +parish of Creon, they were found of a pound weight; and in falling, they +seemed not to be inflamed, but very hard and black without, and within +of the color of steel: and, thank God, they occasioned no harm to the +people, nor to the trees, but only to some tiles which were broken on +the houses; and most of them fell gently, and others fell quickly, with +a hissing noise; and some were found which had entered into the earth, +but very few. In witness thereof, we have written and signed these +presents. Duby, mayor. Darmite." Though such a document as this, coming +from the unlearned of the district where the phenomenon occurred, was +not calculated to win acceptance with the _savans_ of the French +capital, yet it was corroborated by a host of intelligent witnesses at +Bayonne, Thoulouse, and Bordeaux, and by transmitted specimens +containing the substances usually found in atmospheric stones, and in +nearly the same proportions. A few years afterward, an undoubted +instance of the fall of an aerolite occurred in England, which largely +excited public curiosity. This was in the neighborhood of Wold Cottage, +the house of Captain Topham, in Yorkshire. Several persons heard the +report of an explosion in the air, followed by a hissing sound; and +afterward felt a shock, as if a heavy body had fallen to the ground at a +little distance from them. One of these, a plowman, saw a huge stone +falling toward the earth, eight or nine yards from the place where he +stood. It threw up the mould on every side, and after penetrating +through the soil, lodged some inches deep in solid chalk rock. Upon +being raised, the stone was found to weigh fifty-six pounds. It fell in +the afternoon of a mild but hazy day, during which there was no thunder +or lightning; and the noise of the explosion was heard through a +considerable district. It deserves remark, that in most recorded cases +of the descent of projectiles, the weather has been settled, and the sky +clear; a fact which plainly places them apart from the causes which +operate to produce the tempest, and shows the popular term thunder-bolt +to be an entire misnomer. + +While this train of circumstances was preparing the philosophic mind of +Europe to admit as a truth what had hitherto been deemed a vulgar error, +and acknowledge the appearance of masses of ignited matter in the +atmosphere occasionally descending to the earth, an account of a +phenomenon of this kind was received from India, vouched by an authority +calculated to secure it general respect. It came from Mr. Williams, +F.R.S., a resident in Bengal. It stated that on December 19th, 1798, at +eight o'clock in the evening, a large, luminous meteor was seen at +Benares and other parts of the country. It was attended with a loud, +rumbling noise, like an ill-discharged platoon of musketry; and about +the same time, the inhabitants of Krakhut, fourteen miles from Benares, +saw the light, heard an explosion, and immediately after the noise of +heavy bodies falling in the neighborhood. The sky had previously been +serene, and not the smallest vestige of a cloud had appeared for many +days. Next morning, the mould in the fields was found to have been +turned up in many spots; and unusual stones, of various sizes, but of +the same substance, were picked out from the moist soil, generally from +a depth of six inches. As the occurrence took place in the night, after +the people had retired to rest, the explosion and the actual fall of the +stones were not observed; but the watchman of an English gentleman, near +Krakhut, brought him a stone the next morning, which had fallen through +the top of his hut, and buried itself in the earthen floor. This event +in India was followed, in the year 1803, by a convincing demonstration +in France, which compelled the eminent men of the capital to believe, +though much against their will. On Tuesday, April 26th, about one in the +afternoon, the weather being serene, there was observed in a part of +Normandy, including Caen, Falaise, Alencon, and a large number of +villages, a fiery globe of great brilliancy moving in the atmosphere +with great rapidity. Some moments after, there was heard in L'Aigle and +in the environs, to the extent of more than thirty leagues in every +direction, a violent explosion, which lasted five or six minutes. At +first there were three or four reports, like those of a cannon, followed +by a kind of discharge which resembled the firing of musketry; after +which there was heard a rumbling like the beating of a drum. The air was +calm, and the sky serene, except a few clouds, such as are frequently +observed. The noise proceeded from a small cloud which had a rectangular +form, and appeared motionless all the time that the phenomenon lasted. +The vapor of which it was composed was projected in all directions at +the successive explosions. The cloud seemed about half a league to the +northeast of the town of L'Aigle, and must have been at a great +elevation in the atmosphere, for the inhabitants of two hamlets, a +league distant from each other, saw it at the same time above their +heads. In the whole canton over which it hovered, a hissing noise like +that of a stone discharged from a sling was heard, and a multitude of +mineral masses were seen to fall to the ground. The largest that fell +weighed 17-1/2 pounds; and the gross number amounted to nearly three +thousand. By the direction of the Academy of Sciences, all the +circumstances of this event were minutely examined by a commission of +inquiry, with the celebrated M. Biot at its head. They were found in +harmony with the preceding relation, and reported to the French minister +of the interior. Upon analyzing the stones, they were found identical +with those of Benares. + +The following are the principal facts with reference to the aerolites, +upon which general dependence may be placed. Immediately after their +descent they are always intensely hot. They are covered with a fused +black incrustation, consisting chiefly of oxide of iron; and, what is +most remarkable, their chemical analysis develops the same substances in +nearly the same proportions, though one may have reached the earth in +India and another in England. Their specific gravities are about the +same; considering 1000 as the proportionate number for the specific +gravity of water, that of some of the aerolites has been found to be, + + Ensisheim stone 3233 + Benares 3352 + Sienna 3418 + Gassendi's 3456 + Yorkshire 3508 + Bachelay's 3535 + Bohemia 4281. + +The greater specific gravity of the Bohemian stone arose from its +containing a greater proportion of iron. An analysis of one of the +stones that fell at L'Aigle gives: + + Silica 46 per cent + Magnesia 10 " + Iron 45 " + Nickel 2 " + Sulphur 5 " + Zinc 1 " + +Iron is found in all these bodies, and in a considerable quantity, with +the rare metal nickel. It is a singular fact, that though a chemical +examination of their composition has not discovered any substance with +which we were not previously acquainted, yet no other bodies have yet +been found, native to the earth, which contain the same ingredients +combined. Neither products of the volcanoes, whether extinct or in +action, nor the stratified or unstratified rocks, have exhibited a +sample of that combination of metallic and earthy substances which the +meteoric stones present. During the era that science has admitted their +path to the earth as a physical truth, scarcely amounting to half a +century, few years have elapsed without a known instance of descent +occurring in some region of the globe. To Izarn's list, previously +given, upward of seventy cases might be added, which have transpired +during the last forty years. A report relating to one of the most +recent, which fell in a valley near the Cape of Good Hope, with the +affidavits of the witnesses, was communicated to the Royal Society, by +Sir John Herschel, in March, 1840. Previously to the descent of the +aerolites, the usual sound of explosion was heard, and some of the +fragments falling upon grass, caused it instantly to smoke, and were too +hot to admit of being touched. When, however, we consider the wide range +of the ocean, and the vast unoccupied regions of the globe, its +mountains, deserts, and forests, we can hardly fail to admit that the +observed cases of descent must form but a small proportion of the actual +number; and obviously in countries upon which the human race are thickly +planted many may escape notice through descending in the night, and will +lie imbedded in the soil till some accidental circumstance exposes their +existence. Some, too, are no doubt completely fused and dissipated in +the atmosphere, while others move by us horizontally, as brilliant +lights, and pass into the depths of space. The volume of some of these +passing bodies is very great. One which traveled within twenty-five +miles of the surface, and cast down a fragment, was suppose to weigh +upward of half a million of tons. But for its great velocity, the whole +mass would have been precipitated to the earth. Two aerolites fell at +Braunau, in Bohemia, July 14, 1847. + +In addition to aerolites, properly so called, or bodies known to have +come to us from outlying space, large metallic masses exist in various +parts of the world, lying in insulated situations, far remote from the +abodes of civilization, whose chemical composition is closely analogous +to that of the substances the descent of which has been witnessed. These +circumstances leave no doubt as to their common origin. Pallas +discovered an immense mass of malleable iron, mixed with nickel, at a +considerable elevation on a mountain of slate in Siberia, a site plainly +irreconcilable with the supposition of art having been there with its +forges, even had it possessed the character of the common iron. In one +of the rooms of the British Museum there is a specimen of a large mass +which was found, and still remains, on the plain of Otumba, in the +district of Buenos Ayres. The specimen alone weighs 1400 lbs., and the +weight of the whole mass, which lies half buried in the ground, is +computed to be thirteen tons. In the province of Bahia, in Brazil, +another block has been discovered weighing upward of six tons. +Considering the situation of these masses, with the details of their +chemical analysis, the presumption is clearly warranted that they owe +their origin to the same causes that have formed and projected the +aerolites to the surface. With reference to the Siberian iron a general +tradition prevails among the Tartars that it formerly descended from the +heavens. A curious extract, translated from the Emperor Tchangire's +memoirs of his own reign is given in a paper communicated to the Royal +Society, which speaks of the fall of a metallic mass in India. The +prince relates, that in the year 1620 (of our era) a violent explosion +was heard at a village in the Punjaub, and at the same time a luminous +body fell through the air on the earth. The officer of the district +immediately repaired to the spot where it was said the body fell, and +having found the place to be still hot, he caused it to be dug. He found +that the heat kept increasing till they reached a lump of iron violently +hot. This was afterward sent to court, where the emperor had it weighed +in his presence, and ordered it to be forged into a sabre, a knife, and +a dagger. After a trial the workmen reported that it was not malleable, +but shivered under the hammer; and it required to be mixed with one +third part of common iron, after which the mass was found to make +excellent blades. The royal historian adds, that on the incident of this +_iron of lightning_ being manufactured, a poet presented him with a +distich that, "during his reign the earth attained order and regularity; +that raw iron fell from lightning, which was, by his world-subduing +authority, converted into a dagger, a knife, and two sabres." + +A multitude of theories have been devised to account for the origin of +these remarkable bodies. The idea is completely inadmissible that they +are concretions formed within the limits of the atmosphere. The +ingredients that enter into their composition have never been discovered +in it, and the air has been analyzed at the sea level and on the tops of +high mountains. Even supposing that to have been the case, the enormous +volume of atmospheric air so charged required to furnish the particles +of a mass of several tons, not to say many masses, is, alone, sufficient +to refute the notion. They can not, either, be projectiles from +terrestrial volcanoes, because coincident volcanic activity has not been +observed, and aerolites descend thousands of miles apart from the +nearest volcano, and their substances are discordant with any known +volcanic product. Laplace suggested their projection from lunar +volcanoes. It has been calculated that a projectile leaving the lunar +surface, where there is no atmospheric resistance, with a velocity of +7771 feet in the first second, would be carried beyond the point where +the forces of the earth and the moon are equal, would be detached, +therefore, from the satellite, and come so far within the sphere of the +earth's attraction as necessarily to fall to it. But the enormous number +of ignited bodies that have been visible, the shooting stars of all +ages, and the periodical meteoric showers that have astonished the +moderns, render this hypothesis untenable, for the moon, ere this, would +have undergone such a waste as must have sensibly diminished her orb, +and almost blotted her from the heavens. Olbers, was the first to prove +the possibility of a projectile reaching us from the moon, but at the +same he deemed the event highly improbable, regarding the satellite as a +very peaceable neighbor, not capable now of strong explosions from the +want of water and an atmosphere. The theory of Chladni will account +generally for all the phenomena, be attended with the fewest +difficulties, and, with some modifications to meet circumstances not +known in his day, it is now widely embraced. He conceived the system to +include an immense number of small bodies, either the scattered +fragments of a larger mass, or original accumulations of matter, which, +circulating round the sun, encounter the earth in its orbit, and are +drawn toward it by attraction, become ignited upon entering the +atmosphere, in consequence of their velocity, and constitute the +shooting stars, aerolites, and meteoric appearances that are observed. +Sir Humphry Davy, in a paper which contains his researches on flame, +strongly expresses an opinion that the meteorites are solid bodies +moving in space, and that the heat produced by the compression of the +most rarefied air from the velocity of their motion must be sufficient +to ignite their mass so that they are fused on entering the atmosphere. +It is estimated that a body moving through our atmosphere with the +velocity of one mile in a second, would extricate heat equal to 30,000 deg. +of Fahrenheit--a heat more intense than that of the fiercest artificial +furnace that ever glowed. The chief modification given to the Chladnian +theory has arisen from the observed periodical occurrence of meteoric +showers--a brilliant and astonishing exhibition--to some notices of +which we proceed. + +The writers of the middle ages report the occurrence of the stars +falling from heaven in resplendent showers among the physical +appearances of their time. The experience of modern days establishes the +substantial truth of such relations, however once rejected as the +inventions of men delighting in the marvelous. Conde, in his history of +the dominion of the Arabs, states, referring to the month of October in +the year 902 of our era, that on the night of the death of King Ibrahim +ben Ahmed, an infinite number of falling stars were seen to spread +themselves like rain over the heavens from right to left, and this year +was afterward called the year of stars. In some Eastern annals of Cairo, +it is related that "In this year (1029 of our era) in the month Redjeb +(August) many stars passed, with a great noise, and brilliant light;" +and in another place the same document states: "In the year 599, on +Saturday night, in the last Moharrem (1202 of our era, and on the 19th +of October), the stars appeared like waves upon the sky, toward the east +and west; they flew about like grasshoppers, and were dispersed from +left to right; this lasted till day-break; the people were alarmed." The +researches of the Orientalist, M. Von Hammer, have brought these +singular accounts to light. Theophanes, one of the Byzantine historians, +records, that in November of the year 472 the sky appeared to be on fire +over the city of Constantinople with the coruscations of flying meteors. +The chronicles of the West agree with those of the East in reporting +such phenomena. A remarkable display was observed on the 4th of April, +1095, both in France and England. The stars seemed, says one, "falling +like a shower of rain from heaven upon the earth;" and in another case, +a bystander, having noted the spot where an aerolite fell, "cast water +upon it, which was raised in steam, with a great noise of boiling." The +chronicle of Rheims describes the appearance, as if all the stars in +heaven were driven like dust before the wind. "By the reporte of the +common people, in this kynge's time (William Rufus)," says Rastel, +"divers great wonders were sene--and therefore the king was told by +divers of his familiars, that God was not content with his lyvyng, but +he was so wilful and proude of minde, that he regarded little their +saying." There can be no hesitation now in giving credence to such +narrations as these, since similar facts have passed under the notice of +the present generation. + +The first grand phenomena of a meteoric shower which attracted attention +in modern times was witnessed by the Moravian Missionaries at their +settlements in Greenland. For several hours the hemisphere presented a +magnificent and astonishing spectacle, that of fiery particles, thick as +hail, crowding the concave of the sky, as though some magazine of +combustion in celestial space was discharging its contents toward the +earth. This was observed over a wide extent of territory. Humboldt, then +traveling in South America, accompanied by M. Bonpland, thus speaks of +it: "Toward the morning of the 13th November, 1799, we witnessed a most +extraordinary scene of shooting meteors. Thousands of bodies and falling +stars succeeded each other during four hours. Their direction was very +regular from north to south. From the beginning of the phenomenon there +was not a space in the firmament equal in extent to three diameters of +the moon which was not filled every instant with bodies of falling +stars. All the meteors left luminous traces or phosphorescent bands +behind them, which lasted seven or eight seconds." An agent of the +United States, Mr. Ellicott, at that time at sea between Cape Florida +and the West India Islands, was another spectator, and thus describes +the scene: "I was called up about three o'clock in the morning, to see +the shooting stars, as they are called. The phenomenon was grand and +awful The whole heavens appeared as if illuminated with sky-rockets, +which disappeared only by the light of the sun after daybreak. The +meteors, which at any one instant of time appeared as numerous as the +stars, flew in all possible directions, except from the earth, toward +which they all inclined more or less; and some of them descended +perpendicularly over the vessel we were in, so that I was in constant +expectation of their falling on us." The same individual states that his +thermometer, which had been at 80 deg. Fahr. for four days preceding, fell +to 56 deg., and, at the same time, the wind changed from the south to the +northwest, from whence it blew with great violence for three days +without intermission. The Capuchin missionary at San Fernando, a village +amid the savannahs of the province of Varinas, and the Franciscan monks +stationed near the entrance of the Oronoco, also observed this shower of +asteroids, which appears to have been visible, more or less, over an +area of several thousand miles, from Greenland to the equator, and from +the lonely deserts of South America to Weimar in Germany. About thirty +years previous, at the city of Quito, a similar event occurred. So great +a number of falling stars were seen in a part of the sky above the +volcano of Cayambaro, that the mountain itself was thought at first to +be on fire. The sight lasted more than an hour. The people assembled in +the plain of Exida, where a magnificent view presented itself of the +highest summits of the Cordilleras. A procession was already on the +point of setting out from the convent of Saint Francis, when it was +perceived that the blaze on the horizon was caused by fiery meteors, +which ran along the sky in all directions, at the altitude of twelve or +thirteen degrees. In Canada, in the years 1814 and 1819, the stellar +showers were noticed, and in the autumn of 1818 on the North Sea, when, +in the language of one of the observers, the surrounding atmosphere +seemed enveloped in one expansive ocean of fire, exhibiting the +appearance of another Moscow in flames. In the former cases, a residiuum +of dust was deposited upon the surface of the waters, on the roofs of +buildings, and on other objects. The deposition of particles of matter +of a ruddy color has frequently followed the descent of aerolites--the +origin of the popular stories of the sky having rained blood. The next +exhibition upon a great scale of the falling stars occurred on the 13th +of November, 1831, and was seen off the coasts of Spain and in the Ohio +country. This was followed by another in the ensuing year at exactly the +same time. Captain Hammond, then in the Red Sea, off Mocha, in the ship +Restitution, gives the following account of it; "From one o'clock A.M. +till after daylight, there was a very unusual phenomenon in the heavens. +It appeared like meteors bursting in every direction. The sky at the +time was clear, and the stars and moon bright, with streaks of light and +thin white clouds interspersed in the sky. On landing in the morning, I +inquired of the Arabs if they had noticed the above. They said they had +been observing it most of the night. I asked them if ever the like had +appeared before? The oldest of them replied it had not." The shower was +witnessed from the Red Sea westward to the Atlantic, and from +Switzerland to the Mauritius. + +We now come to by far the most splendid display on record; which, as it +was the third in successive years, and on the same day of the month as +the two preceding, seemed to invest the meteoric showers with a +periodical character; and hence originated the title of the November +meteors. The chief scene of the exhibition was included within the +limits of the longitude of 61 deg. in the Atlantic Ocean, and that of 100 deg. +in Central Mexico, and from the North American lakes to the West Indies. +Over this wide area, an appearance presented itself, far surpassing in +grandeur the most imposing artificial fire-works. An incessant play of +dazzlingly brilliant luminosities was kept up in the heavens for several +hours. Some of these were of considerable magnitude and peculiar form. +One of large size remained for some time almost stationary in the +zenith, over the Falls of Niagara, emitting streams of light. The wild +dash of the waters, as contrasted with the fiery uproar above them, +formed a scene of unequaled sublimity. In many districts, the mass of +the population were terror-struck, and the more enlightened were awed at +contemplating so vivid a picture of the Apocalyptic image--that of the +stars of heaven falling to the earth, even as a fig-tree casting her +untimely figs, when she is shaken of a mighty wind. A planter of South +Carolina, thus describes the effect of the scene upon the ignorant +blacks: "I was suddenly awakened by the most distressing cries that ever +fell on my ears. Shrieks of horror and cries for mercy I could hear from +most of the negroes of three plantations, amounting in all to about six +or eight hundred. While earnestly listening for the cause, I heard a +faint voice near the door calling my name. I arose, and taking my sword, +stood at the door. At this moment, I heard the same voice still +beseeching me to rise, and saying, 'O my God, the world is on fire!' I +then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most +--the awfulness of the scene, or the distressed cries of the negroes. +Upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground--some speechless, and +some with the bitterest cries, but with their hands raised, imploring +God to save the world and them. The scene was truly awful; for never did +rain fall much thicker than the meteors fell toward the earth; east, +west, north, and south, it was the same." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +This extraordinary spectacle commenced a little before midnight, and +reached its height between four and six o'clock in the morning. The +night was remarkably fine. Not a cloud obscured the firmament. Upon +attentive observation, the materials of the shower were found to exhibit +three distinct varieties:--1. Phosphoric lines formed one class +apparently described by a point. These were the most abundant. They +passed along the sky with immense velocity, as numerous as the flakes of +a sharp snow-storm. 2. Large fire-balls formed another constituency of +the scene. These darted forth at intervals along the arch of the sky, +describing an arc of 30 deg. or 40 deg. in a few seconds. Luminous trains marked +their path, which remained in view for a number of minutes, and in some +cases for half an hour or more. The trains were commonly white, but the +various prismatic colors occasionally appeared, vividly and beautifully +displayed. Some of these fire-balls, or shooting-stars, were of enormous +size. Dr. Smith of North Carolina observed one which appeared larger +than the full moon at the horizon. "I was startled," he remarks, "by the +splendid light in which the surrounding scene was exhibited, rendering +even small objects quite visible." The same, or a similar luminous body, +seen at New Haven, passed off in a northwest direction, and exploded +near the star Capella. 3. Another class consisted of luminosities of +irregular form, which remained nearly stationary for a considerable +time, like the one that gleamed aloft over the Niagara Falls. The +remarkable circumstance is testified by every witness, that all the +luminous bodies, without a single exception, moved in lines, which +converged in one and the same point of the heavens; a little to the +southeast of the zenith. They none of them started from this point, but +their direction, to whatever part of the horizon it might be, when +traced backward, led to a common focus. Conceive the centre of the +diagram to be nearly overhead, and a proximate idea may be formed of the +character of the scene, and the uniform radiation of the meteors from +the same source. The position of this radiant point among the stars was +near [Greek: g] Leonis. It remained stationary with respect to the stars +during the whole of the exhibition. Instead of accompanying the earth in +its diurnal motion eastward, it attended the stars in their apparent +movement westward. The source of the meteoric shower was thus +independent of the earth's rotation, and this shows its position to have +been in the regions of space exterior to our atmosphere. According to +the American Professor, Dr. Olmsted, it could not have been less than +2238 miles above the earth's surface. + +[Illustration] + +The attention of astronomers in Europe, and all over the world, was, as +may be imagined, strongly roused by intelligence of this celestial +display on the western continent; and as the occurrence of a meteoric +shower had now been observed for three years successively, at a +coincident era, it was inferred that a return of this fiery hail-storm +might be expected in succeeding Novembers. Arrangements were therefore +made to watch the heavens on the nights of the 12th and 13th in the +following years at the principal observatories; and though no such +imposing spectacle as that of 1833 has been witnessed, yet extraordinary +flights of shooting stars have been observed in various places at the +periodic time, tending also from a fixed point in the constellation Leo. +They were seen in Europe and America on November 13th, 1834. The +following results of simultaneous observation were obtained by Arago +from different parts of France on the nights of November 12th and 13th, +1830: + + Place. Meteors. + + Paris, at the Observatory 170 + Dieppe 36 + Arras 27 + Strasburg 85 + Von Altimarl 75 + Angou 49 + Rochefort 23 + Havre 300 + +On November 12th, 1837, at eight o'clock in the evening, the attention +of observers in various parts of Great Britain was directed to a bright, +luminous body, apparently proceeding from the north, which, after making +a rapid descent, in the manner of a rocket, suddenly burst, and +scattering its particles into various beautiful forms, vanished in the +atmosphere. This was succeeded by others all similar to the first, both +in shape and the manner of its ultimate disappearance. The whole display +terminated at ten o'clock, when dark clouds which continued up to a late +hour, overspread the earth, preventing any further observation. In the +November of 1838, at the same date, the falling stars were abundant at +Vienna: and one of remarkable brilliancy and size, as large as the full +moon in the zenith, was seen on the 13th by M. Verusmor, off Cherburg, +passing in the direction of Cape La Hogue, a long, luminous train +marking its course through the sky. The same year, the non-commissioned +officers in the island of Ceylon were instructed to look out for the +falling stars. Only a few appeared at the usual time; but on the 5th of +December, from nine o'clock till midnight, the shower was incessant, +and the number defied all attempts at counting them. + +[Illustration] + +Professor Olmsted, an eminent man of science, himself an eye-witness of +the great meteoric shower on the American continent, after carefully +collecting and comparing facts, proposed the following theory: The +meteors of November 13th, 1833, emanated from a nebulous body which was +then pursuing its way along with the earth around the sun; that this +body continues to revolve around the sun in an elliptical orbit, but +little inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and having its aphelion +near the orbit of the earth; and finally, that the body has a period of +nearly six months, and that its perihelion is a little within the orbit +of Mercury. The diagram represents the ellipse supposed to be described, +E being the orbit of the earth, M that of Mercury, and N that of the +assumed nebula, its aphelion distance being about 95 millions of miles, +and the perihelion 24 millions. Thus, when in aphelion, the body is +close to the orbit of the earth, and this occurring periodically, when +the earth is at the same time in that part of its orbit, nebulous +particles are attracted toward it by its gravity, and then, entering the +atmosphere, are consumed in it by their concurrent velocities, causing +the appearance of a meteoric shower. The parent body is inferred to be +nebular, because, though the meteors fall toward the earth with +prodigious velocity, few, if any, appear to have reached the surface. +They were stopped by the resistance of the air and dissipated in it, +whereas, if they had possessed any considerable quantity of matter, the +momentum would have been sufficient to have brought them down in some +instances to the earth. Arago has suggested a similar theory, that of a +stream or group of innumerable bodies, comparatively small, but of +various dimensions, sweeping round the solar focus in an orbit which +periodically cuts that of the earth. These two theories are in substance +the Chladnian hypothesis, first started to explain the observed actual +descent of aerolites. Though great obscurity rests upon the subject, the +fact may be deemed certain that independently of the great planets and +satellites of the system, there are vast numbers of bodies circling +round the sun, both singly and in groups, and probably an extensive +nebula, contact with which causes the phenomena of shooting stars, +aerolites, and meteoric showers. But admitting the existence of such +bodies to be placed beyond all doubt, the question of their origin, +whether original accumulations of matter, old as the planetary orbs, or +the dispersed trains of comets, or the remains of a ruined world, is a +point beyond the power of the human understanding to reach. + + + + +A FIVE DAYS' TOUR IN THE ODENWALD. + +A SKETCH OF GERMAN LIFE. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + + +The Odenwald, or Forest of Odin, is one of the most primitive districts +of Germany. It consists of a hilly, rather than a mountainous district, +of some forty miles in one direction, and thirty in another. The +beautiful Neckar bounds it on the south; on the west it is terminated by +the sudden descent of its hills into the great Rhine plain. This +boundary is well known by the name of the Bergstrasse, or mountain road; +which road, however, was at the foot of the mountains, and not over +them, as the name would seem to imply. To English travelers, the beauty +of this Bergstrasse is familiar. The hills, continually broken into by +openings into romantic valleys, slope rapidly down to the plain, covered +with picturesque vineyards; and at their feet lie antique villages, and +the richly-cultivated plains of the Rhine, here thirty or forty miles +wide. On almost every steep and projecting hill, or precipitous cliff, +stands a ruined castle, each, as throughout Germany, with its wild +history, its wilder traditions, and local associations of a hundred +kinds. The railroad from Frankfort to Heidelberg now runs along the +Bergstrasse, and will ever present to the eyes of travelers the charming +aspect of these old legendary hills; till the enchanting valley of the +Neckar, with Heidelberg reposing amid its lovely scenery at its mouth, +terminates the Bergstrasse, and the hills which stretch onward, on the +way toward Carlsruhe, assume another name. + +Every one ascending the Rhine from Mayence to Mannheim has been struck +with the beauty of these Odenwald hills, and has stood watching that +tall white tower on the summit of one of them, which, with windings of +the river, seem now brought near, and then again thrown very far off; +seemed to watch and haunt you, and, for many hours, to take short cuts +to meet you, till, at length, like a giant disappointed of his prey, it +glided away into the gray distance, and was lost in the clouds. This is +the tower of Melibocus, above the village of Auerbach, to which we shall +presently ascend, in order to take our first survey of this old and +secluded haunt of Odin. + +This quiet region of hidden valleys and deep forests extends from the +borders of the Black Forest, which commences on the other side of the +Neckar, to the Spessart, another old German forest; and in the other +direction, from Heidelberg and Darmstadt, toward Heilbronn. It is full +of ancient castles, and a world of legends. In it stands, besides the +Melibocus, another tower, on a still loftier point, called the +Katzenbuckel, which overlooks a vast extent of these forest hills. Near +this lies Eberbach, a castle of the descendants of Charlemagne, which we +shall visit; the scenes of the legend of the Wild Huntsman; the castles +of Goetz von Berlichingen, and many another spot familiar by its fame to +our minds from childhood. But besides this, the inhabitants are a people +living in a world of their own; retaining all the simplicity of their +abodes and habits; and it is only in such a region that you now +recognize the pictures of German life such as you find them in the _Haus +Maerchen_ of the brothers Grimm. + +In order to make ourselves somewhat acquainted with this interesting +district, Mrs. Howitt and myself, with knapsack on back, set out at the +end of August, 1841, to make a few days' ramble on foot through it. The +weather, however, proved so intensely hot, and the electrical sultriness +of the woods so oppressive, that we only footed it one day, when we were +compelled to make use of a carriage, much to our regret. + +On the last day in August we drove with a party of friends, and our +children, to Weinheim; rambled through its vineyards, ascended to its +ancient castle, and then went on to Birkenau Thal, a charming valley, +celebrated, as its name denotes, for its lovely hanging birches, under +which, with much happy mirth, we dined. + +Scrambling among the hills, and winding up the dry footpaths, among the +vineyards of this neighborhood, we were yet more delighted with the +general beauty of the scenery, and with the wild-flowers which every +where adorned the hanging cliffs and warm waysides. The marjorum stood +in ruddy and fragrant masses; harebells and campanulas of several kinds, +that are cultivated in our gardens, with bells large and clear; crimson +pinks; the Michaelmas daisy; a plant with a thin, radiated yellow +flower, of the character of an aster; a centaurea of a light purple, +handsomer than any English one; a thistle in the dryest places, +resembling an eryngo, with a thick, bushy top; mulleins, yellow and +white; the wild mignonnette, and the white convolvulus; and clematis +festooning the bushes, recalled the flowery fields and lanes of England, +and yet told us that we were not there. The meadows had also their moist +emerald sward scattered with the grass of Parnassus, and an autumnal +crocus of a particularly delicate lilac. + +At the inn, at the mouth of Birkenau Thal, we proposed to take the +eilwagen as far as Auerbach, but that not arriving, we availed ourselves +of a peasant's light wicker wagon. The owner was a merry fellow, and had +a particularly spirited black horse; and taking leave of our friends, +after a delightful day, we had a most charming drive to Auerbach, and +one equally amusing, from the conversation of our driver. + +After tea we ascended to Auerbach Castle, which occupies a hill above +the town, still far overtopped, however, by the height of Melibocus. The +view was glorious. The sunset across the great Rhine plain was +magnificent. It diffused over the whole western sky an atmosphere of +intense crimson light, with scattered golden clouds, and surrounded by a +deep violet splendor. The extremities of the plain, from the eye being +dazzled with this central effulgence, lay in a solemn and nearly +impenetrable gloom. The castle in ruins, seen by this light, looked +peculiarly beautiful and impressive. In the court on the wall was an +inscription, purporting that a society in honor of the military career +of the Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, in whose territory and in that of +Baden the Odenwald chiefly lies, had here celebrated his birthday in the +preceding July. Round the inscription hung oaken garlands, within each +of which was written the name and date of the battles in which he had +been engaged against the French. An altar of moss and stones stood at a +few yards' distance in front of these memorials, at which a peasant +living in the tower told us, the field-preacher had delivered an oration +on the occasion. + +In the morning, at five o'clock, we began to ascend the neighboring +heights of Melibocus. It took us an hour and a quarter. The guide +carried my knapsack; and as we went, men came up through different +footpaths in the woods, with hoes on their shoulders. When we arrived +on the top, we found others, and among them some women, accompanied by a +policeman. They were peasants who had been convicted of cutting wood for +fuel in the hills, and were adjudged to pay a penalty, or in default, to +work it out in hoeing and clearing the young plantations for a +proportionate time--a much wiser way than shutting them up in a prison, +where they are of no use either to themselves or the state. + +The view from the tower, eighty feet in height, over the great Rhine +plain, is immense and splendid, including two hundred villages, towns, +and cities. The windings of the magnificent Rhine lie mapped out below +you, and on its banks are seen, as objects of peculiar interest, the +cathedral of Speier, the lofty dome of the Jesuits' church at Mannheim, +and the four towers of the noble cathedral of Worms. In the remote +distance, as a fitting termination to this noble landscape, are seen the +heights of the Donnersberg, the Vosges, and the Schwarzwald. + +The policeman, who followed us up into the tower, mentioned the time +when the inhabitants of that district had hastened thither to watch the +approach of the French armies, and pointed out the spot where they were +first seen, and described their approach, and the terrors and anxieties +of the people, in the most lively and touching manner. + +The wind was strong on this lofty height, and the rattling of the +shutters in the look-out windows in the tower, and of their fastenings, +would have been dismal enough on a stormy night, and gave quite a +wildness to it even then. The view over the Odenwald was beautiful. Half +covered with wood, as far as you could see, with green, winding straths +between them, distant castles, and glimpses of the white walls of +low-lying dorfs or villages, it gave you an idea of a region at once +solitary and attractive. The whole was filled with the cheerful light of +morning, and the wooded hills looked of the most brilliant green. We +descended, and pursued our way through the forest glades with that +feeling of enjoyment which the entrance into an unknown region, pleasant +companionship, and fine weather, inspire. When we issued from the woods +which clothe the sides of Melibocus, we sate down on the heathy turf, +and gazed with a feeling of ever-youthful delight on the scene around +us. Above us, and over its woods, rose the square white tower of +Melibocus; below, lay green valleys, from among whose orchards issued +the smoke of peaceful cottages; and beyond, rose hills covered with +other woods, with shrouded spots, the legends of which had reached us in +England, and had excited the wonder of our early days--the castle of the +Wild Huntsman--the traditions of the followers of Odin--and the +strongholds of many an iron-clad knight, as free to seize the goods of +his neighbors as he was strong to take and keep them. Now all was +peaceful and Arcadian. We met, as we descended into the valley, young +women coming up with their cows, and a shepherd with a mixed flock of +sheep and swine. He had a belt around him, to which hung a chain, +probably to fasten a cow to, as we afterward saw cows so secured. + +We found the cottages, in the depths of the valleys, among their +orchards, just those heavy, old-fashioned sort of things that we see in +German engravings; buildings of wood-framing, the plaster panels of +which were painted in various ways, and the windows of those circular +and octagon panes which, from old association, always seem to belong to +German cottages, just such as that in which the old witch lived in +_Grimm's Kinder und Haus Maerchen_; and in the _Folk Sagor_ of Sweden and +Norway. There were, too, the large ovens built out of doors and roofed +over, such as the old giantess, _Kaeringen som vardt stekt i ugnen_, was +put into, according to German and Scandinavian legends. The people were +of the simplest character and appearance. We seemed at once to have +stepped out of modern times into the far-past ages. We saw several +children sitting on a bench in the open air, near a school-house, +learning their lessons, and writing on their slates; and we wept into +the school. + +The schoolmaster was a man befitting the place; simple, rustic, and +devout. He told us that the boys and girls, of which his school was +full, came, some of them, from a considerable distance. They came in at +six o'clock in the morning and staid till eight, had an hour's rest, and +then came in till eleven, when they went home, and did not return again +till the next morning, being employed the rest of the day in helping +their parents; in going into the woods for fuel; into the fields to +glean, tend cattle, cut grass, or do what was wanted. All the barefooted +children of every village, how ever remote, thus acquire a tolerable +education, learning singing as a regular part of it. They have what they +call their _Sing-Stunde_, singing lesson, every day. On a black board +the _Lied_, song, or hymn for the day, was written in German character +in chalk; and the master, who was naturally anxious to exhibit the +proficiency of his scholars, gave them their singing lesson while we +were there. The scene was very interesting in itself; but there was +something humiliating to our English minds, to think that in the +Odenwald, a portion of the great Hyrcanian forest, a region associating +itself with all that is wild and obscure, every child of every hamlet +and cottage, however secluded, was provided with that instruction which +the villages of England are in a great measure yet destitute of. But +here the peasants are not, as with us, totally cut off from property in +the soil which they cultivate; totally dependent on the labor afforded +by others; on the contrary, they are themselves the possessors. This +country is, in fact, in the hands of the people. It is all parceled out +among the multitude; and, wherever you go, instead of the great halls, +vast parks, and broad lands of the few, you see perpetual evidences of +an agrarian system. Except the woods, the whole land is thrown into +small allotments, and upon them the people are laboring busily for +themselves. + +Here, in the Odenwald, the harvest, which in the great Rhine plain was +over in July, was now, in great measure, cut. Men, women, and children, +were all engaged in cutting it, getting it in, or in tending the cattle. +Everywhere stood the simple wagons of the country with their pair of +yoked cows. Women were doing all sorts of work; reaping, and mowing, and +threshing with the men. They were without shoes and stockings, clad in a +simple, dark-blue petticoat; a body of the same, leaving the white +chemise sleeves as a pleasing contrast; and their hair, in some +instances, turned up under their little black or white caps; in others +hanging wild and sunburnt on their shoulders. The women, old and young, +work as hard as the men, at all kinds of work, and yet with right +good-will, for they work for themselves. They often take their dinners +with them to the fields, frequently giving the lesser children a piece +of bread each, and locking them up in their cottages till they return. +This would be thought a hard life in England; but hard as it is, it is +better than the degradation of agricultural laborers, in a dear country +like England, with six or eight shillings a week, and no cow, no pig, +no fruit for the market, no house, garden, or field of their own; but, +on the contrary, constant anxiety, the fear of a master on whom they are +constantly dependent, and the desolate prospect of ending their days in +a union work-house. + +Each German has his house, his orchard, his road-side trees, so laden +with fruit, that if he did not carefully prop up, and tie together, and +in many places hold the boughs together with wooden clamps, they would +be torn asunder by their own weight. He has his corn-plot, his plot for +mangel-wurzel or hay, for potatoes, for hemp, etc. He is his own master, +and he therefore, and every branch of his family, have the strongest +motives for constant exertion. You see the effect of this in his +industry and his economy. + +In Germany, nothing is lost. The produce of the trees and the cows is +carried to market. Much fruit is dried for winter use. You see wooden +trays of plums, cherries, and sliced apples, lying in the sun to dry. +You see strings of them hanging from their chamber windows in the sun. +The cows are kept up for the greater part of the year, and every green +thing is collected for them. Every little nook where the grass prows by +roadside, and river, and brook, is carefully cut with the sickle, and +carried home, on the heads of women and children, in baskets, or tied in +large cloths. Nothing of any kind that can possibly be made of any use +is lost. Weeds, nettles, nay, the very goose-grass which covers waste +places, is cut up and taken for the cows. You see the little children +standing in the streets of the villages, in the streams which generally +run down them, busy washing these weeds before they are given to the +cattle. They carefully collect the leaves of the marsh-grass, carefully +cut their potato tops for them, and even, if other things fail, gather +green leaves from the woodlands. One can not help thinking continually +of the enormous waste of such things in England--of the vast quantities +of grass on banks, by roadsides, in the openings of plantations, in +lanes, in church-yards, where grass from year to year springs and dies, +but which, if carefully cut, would maintain many thousand cows for the +poor. + +To pursue still further this subject of German economy. The very +cuttings of the vines are dried and preserved for winter fodder. The +tops and refuse of the hemp serve as bedding for the cows; nay, even the +rough stalks of the poppies, after the heads have been gathered for oil, +are saved, and all these are converted into manure for the land. When +these are not sufficient, the children are sent into the woods to gather +moss; and all our readers familiar with Germany will remember to have +seen them coming homeward with large bundles of this on their heads. In +autumn, the falling leaves are gathered and stocked for the same +purpose. The fir-cones, which with us lie and rot in the woods, are +carefully collected, and sold for lighting fires. + +In short, the economy and care of the German peasant are an example to +all Europe. He has for years--nay, ages--been doing that, as it regards +agricultural management, to which the British public is but just now +beginning to open its eyes. Time, also, is as carefully economized as +every thing else. They are early risers, as may well be conceived, when +the children, many of whom come from considerable distances, are in +school at six in the morning. As they tend their cattle, or their swine, +the knitting never ceases, and hence the quantities of stockings, and +other household things, which they accumulate, are astonishing. + +We could not help, as often before, being struck in the Odenwald with +the resemblance of the present country and life of the Germans to those +of the ancient Hebrews. Germany, like Judea, is literally a land flowing +with milk and honey: a land of corn, and vine, and oil. The plains are +full of corn; the hill-sides, however stony, are green with vineyards; +and though they have not the olive, they procure vast quantities of oil +from the walnut, the poppy, and the rape. The whole country is parceled +out among its people. There are no hedges, but the landmarks, against +the removal of which the Jewish law so repeatedly and so emphatically +denounces its terrors, alone indicate the boundaries of each man's +possession. Every where you see the ox and the heifer toiling beneath +the primitive yoke, as in the days of David. The threshing-floor of +Araunah often comes to your mind when you see the different members of a +family--father, mother, brother, and sister, all threshing out their +corn together on the mud floor of their barn; but much more so when you +see them, in the corn-field itself, collect the sheaves into one place, +and treading down the earth into a solid floor, there, in the face of +heaven and fanned by its winds, thresh out on the spot the corn which +has been cut. This we saw continually going forward on the steep slopes +of the Odenwald, ten or a dozen men and women all threshing together. A +whole field is thus soon threshed, the corn being beaten out much more +easily while the ear is crisp with the hot sun. + +Having taken leave of the schoolmaster, his scholars, and his bees, with +whose hives nearly all his house-side was covered, we pursued our way to +the Jaegerhaus on the top of the Felsberg, one of the highest hills in +the Odenwald. The day was splendid, with a fine breeze, and all around +was new, cheerful, yet solitary, bright and inspiriting. The peasants in +the harvest-fields, the herds watching their cattle, gave us a passing +salutation, and when within sight of you, took off their hats, even at a +field's distance. We walked on in great enjoyment, here sitting to look +back on the scenes we had left, or to drink from the glittering waters +that we had to pass. + +Just as we were about to enter the woods again, we met an old woman +slowly wandering on from some cottages among the trees by the wood-side. +She had a leathern belt round her waist, and a cord fastened to it, by +which she led her cow to graze in the thickets and by the foot-path, +while her hands were busy with her knitting. A boy, about seven years +old, was leading a kid by a chain, letting it crop the flowers of the +hawkweed in the grass. The old woman saluted us cheerfully; told us that +the boy's father was in America, and his mother gone out to service, and +that he was intrusted to her care. Could there be any thing more like a +scene in the old _Maerchen_, or less like one in England? + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE MYSTERIOUS PREACHER. + + +In one of those strolls which I have always loved to take into different +and little frequented parts of these kingdoms, I fell in with a +venerable old man, dressed in black, with very white hair, and of a +mild, somewhat melancholy and intelligent look. It was a beautiful scene +where I first encountered him--in a wood, on the banks of a noble river. +I accosted the old man with a remark on the delightfulness of the time +and place; and he replied to my observations with a warmth, and in a +tone, which strongly affected me. I soon found that he was as +enthusiastic a lover of nature as myself--that he had seen many of the +finest portions of the kingdom, and had wandered through them with +Milton or Shakspeare, Herbert or Quarles, in his hand. He was one of +those who, reading with his own eyes and heart, and not through the +spectacles of critics, had not been taught to despise the last old poet, +nor to treat his rich and quaint versification, and his many manly and +noble thoughts, as the conceits and rhymes of a poetaster. His reverence +for the great names of our literature, and his just appreciation of +their works, won upon me greatly. I invited him to continue his walk; +and--so well was I pleased with him--to visit me at my rustic lodgment. + +From that day, for some weeks, we daily walked together. I more and more +contemplated with admiration and esteem the knowledge, the fine taste, +the generous sentiments, the profound love of nature which seemed to +fill the whole being of the old man. But who and whence was he? He said +not a word on that subject, and I did not, therefore, feel freedom to +inquire. He might have secret griefs, which such a query might awaken. I +respect too much the wounded heart of humanity carelessly to probe it, +and especially the heart of a solitary being who, in the downward stage +of life, may, perchance, be the stripped and scathed remnant of a +once-endeared family. He stood before me alone. He entered into +reminiscences, but they were reminiscences connected with no near ties; +but had such ties now existed, he would in some hour of frank enthusiasm +have said so. He did not say it, and it was, therefore, sufficiently +obvious, that he had a history which he left down in the depths of his +heart, beyond the vision of all but that heart itself. And yet, whatever +were the inward memories of this venerable man, there was a buoyancy and +youthfulness of feeling about him which amply manifested that they had +not quenched the love and enjoyment of life in him. + +On different days we took, during the most beautiful spring, strolls of +many miles into distant dales and villages, and on the wild brown moors. +Now we sate by a moorland stream, talking of many absorbing things in +the history of the poetry and the religion of our country, and I could +plainly see that my ancient friend had in him the spirit of an old +Covenanter, and that, had he lived in the days of contest between the +church of kings and the church of God, he would have gone to the field +or the stake for his faith as triumphantly as any martyr of those times. +It was under the influence of one of these conversations that I could +not avoid addressing to the old man the following youthful stanzas, +which, though they may exhibit little poetry, testify to the patriotism +which his language inspired: + + My friend! there have been men + To whom we turn again + After contemplating the present age, + And long, with vain regret, + That they were living yet, + Virtue's high war triumphantly to wage. + + Men whose renown was built + Not on resplendent guilt-- + Not through life's waste, or the abuse of power, + But by the dauntless zeal + With which at truth's appeal, + They stood unto the death in some eventful hour. + + But he who now shall deem, + Because among us seem + No dubious symptoms of a realm's decline-- + Wealth blind with its excess + 'Mid far-diffused distress, + And pride that kills, professing to refine-- + + He who deems hence shall flow + The utter overthrow + Of this most honored and long happy land, + Little knows what there lies + Even beneath his eyes, + Slumbering in forms that round about him stand. + + Little knows he the zeal + Myriads of spirits feel + In love, pure principle, and knowledge strong; + Little knows he what men + Tread this dear land again, + Whose souls of fire invigorate the throng. + + My friend! I lay with thee + Beneath the forest tree, + When spring was shedding her first sweets around. + And the bright sky above + Woke feelings of deep love, + And thoughts which traveled through the blue profound. + + I lay, and as I heard-- + The joyful faith thus stirred, + Shot like Heaven's lightning through my wondering breast + I heard, and in my thought + Glory and greatness wrought, + And blessing God--my native land I blest. + +Now we entered a village inn, and ate our simple luncheon; and now we +stood in some hamlet lane, or by its mossy well, with a group of +children about us, among whom not a child appeared more child-like or +more delighted than the old man. Nay, as we came back from a fifteen or +twenty miles' stroll, he would leap over a stile with the activity of a +boy, or run up to a wilding bush, covered with its beautiful pink +blossoms, and breaking off a branch hold it up in admiration, and +declare that it appeared almost sinful for an old man like him to enjoy +himself so keenly. I know not when I more deeply felt the happiness and +the holiness of existence, the wealth of intellect, and the blessings of +our fancies, sympathies, and affection, than I used to do as this +singular stranger sate with me on the turf-seat at the vine-covered end +of the old cottage, which then made my temporary residence, on the +serene evenings of that season, over our rustic tea-table, and with the +spicy breath of the wall-flowers of that little garden breathing around +us, and held conversation on many a subject of moral and intellectual +speculation which then deeply interested me. In some of those evening +hours he at length gave me glimpses into his past existence. Things more +strange and melancholy than I could ever have suspected had passed over +him, and only the more interested me in him. + +Such had been our acquaintance for some months, when, one evening, +happening to be in the neighboring town, and passing through a +densely-populated part of it, I saw a number of people crowding into a +chapel. With my usual curiosity in all that relates to the life, habits, +and opinions of my fellow-men, I entered, and was no little surprised to +behold my ancient friend in the pulpit. As I believed he had not +observed me enter, and as I was desirous to hear my worthy friend, thus +most unexpectedly found in this situation, without attracting his +attention, I therefore seated myself in the shade of a pillar, and +awaited the sermon. My surprise, as I listened to it, was excessive, on +more accounts than one. I was surprised at the intense, fervid, and +picturesque blaze of eloquence that breathed forth from the preacher, +seeming to light up the whole place, and fill it with an unearthly and +cloudy fire. I was more astonished by the singularity and wildness of +the sentiments uttered. I looked again and again at the rapt and +ecstatic preacher. His frame seemed to expand, and to be buoyed up, by +his glowing enthusiasm, above the very height of humanity. His hair, +white as snow, seemed a pale glory burning round his head, and his +countenance, warm with the expression of his entranced spirit, was +molten into the visage of a pleading seraph, who saw the terrors of the +Divinity revealed before him, and felt only that they for whom he +wrestled were around him. _They_ hung upon that awful and unearthly +countenance with an intensity which, in beings at the very bar of +eternal judgment, hanging on the advocacy of an angel, could scarcely +have been exceeded; and when he ceased, and sat down, a sigh, as from +every heart at once, went through the place, which marked the fall of +their rapt imaginations from the high region whither his words and +expressive features had raised them, to the dimness and reality of +earth. I could scarcely persuade myself that this was my late friend of +the woods and fields, and of the evening discourse, so calm and +dispassionate, over our little tea-table. + +I escaped cautiously with the crowd, and eagerly interrogated a man who +passed out near me who was the preacher? He looked at me with an air of +surprise; but seeing me a stranger, he said he thought I could not have +been in those parts long, or I should have known Mr. M----. I then +learned that my venerable acquaintance was one whose name was known far +and wide--known for the strange and fascinating powers of his pulpit +eloquence, and for the peculiarity of his religious views. The +singularity of those notions alone had prevented his becoming one of the +most popular religious orators of his time. They had been the source of +perpetual troubles and persecutions to him, they had estranged from him +the most zealous of his friends from time to time; yet they were such +only as he could lay down at the threshold of Divine judgment; and +still, wherever he went, although they were a root of bitterness to him +in private, he found in public a crowd of eager and enthusiastic +hearers, who hung on his words as if they came at once warm from the +inner courts of heaven. + +The sense of this discovery, and of the whole strange scene of the last +evening, hung powerfully upon me through the following day. I sat on the +bench of my cottage window, with a book in my hand, the greater part of +it, but my thoughts continually reverted to the image of the preacher in +the midst of his audience; when, at evening, in walked the old man with +his usual quiet smile, and shaking me affectionately by the hand, sat +down in a wooden chair opposite me. I looked again and again, but in +vain, to recognize the floating figure and the exalted countenance of +the evening. + +The old man took up my book, and began to read. A sudden impulse seized +me which I have never ceased to regret. I did not wish abruptly to tell +the old man that I had seen him in the pulpit, but I longed to discuss +with him the ground of his peculiar views, and said, + +"What do you think, my friend, of the actual future destiny of the--?" + +I made the question include his peculiar doctrines. He laid down the +volume with a remarkable quickness of action. He gazed at me for a +moment with a look humbled but not confused, such as I had never seen in +him before, and, in a low voice, said, + +"You were then at my chapel last night?" + +"I was," I replied. + +"I am sorry--I am sorry," he said, rising with a sigh. "It has been a +pleasant time, but it is ended. Good-by, my dear young friend, and may +God bless you!" + +He turned silently but quickly away. + +"Stop!" I cried. "Stop!" But he heard or heeded not. I ran to the gate +to lay hold on him, and assure him that his sentiments would not alter +my regard for him, but I observed him already hastening down the lane at +such a speed that I judged it rude and useless at that moment to pursue. + +I went down that day to his lodgings, to assure him of my sentiments +toward him, but door and window were closed, and if he were in he would +not hear me. Early next morning a little ragged boy brought me a note, +saying a gentleman in the lane had given it to him. It simply said: + +"Dear young friend, good-by. You wonder at my abruptness; but my +religion has always been fatal to my friendship. You will say it would +not with you: so has many another assured me; but I am too well schooled +by bitter experience. I have had a call to a distant place. No one knows +of it, and I trust the name to no one. The pleasure of your society has +detained me, or I had obeyed the call a month ago. May we meet in +Heaven! C.M." + +He was actually gone, and no one knew whither. + +Time had passed over, and I had long imagined this strange and gifted +being in his grave, when in a wild and remote part of the kingdom, the +other day, I accidentally stumbled upon his retreat, and found him in +his pulpit with the same rapt aspect, uttering an harangue as exciting, +and surrounded by an audience as eagerly devouring his words. + + + + +[From Chesney's Expedition to the Euphrates and Tigris.] + +ASSYRIAN SECTS. + + +There are two remarkable sects, one of which, called the Mendajaha +(disciples of John), is found scattered in small communities in Basrah, +Kurnah, Mohammarah, and, lastly, Sheikh el Shuyukh, where there are +about three hundred families. Those of Basrah are noticed by Pietro de +la Valle who says the Arabs call them Sabeans. Their religion is +evidently a mixture of Paganism, Hebrew, Mohammedan, and Christian. They +profess to regulate their lives by a book called the Sidra, containing +many moral precepts, which, according to tradition, have been handed +down from Adam, through Seth and Enoch; and it is understood to be in +their language (the Chaldee), but written in a peculiar character. They +abhor circumcision, but are very particular in distinguishing between +clean and unclean animals, and likewise in keeping the Sabbath with +extraordinary strictness. The Psalms of David are in use, but they are +held to be inferior to their own book. They abstain from garlic, beans, +and several kinds of pulse, and likewise most carefully from every +description of food between sunrise and sunset during a whole moon +before the vernal equinox; in addition to which, an annual festival is +kept, called the feast of five days. Much respect is entertained for the +city of Mecca, and a still greater reverence for the Pyramids of Egypt, +in one of which they believe that their great progenitor, Saba, son of +Seth, is buried; and to his original residence at Haran they make very +particular pilgrimages, sacrificing on these occasions a ram and a hen. +They pray seven times a day, turning sometimes to the south and +sometimes to the north. But, at the same time, they retain a part of the +ancient worship of the heavenly bodies, adding that of angels, with the +belief that the souls of the wicked are to enjoy a happier state after +nine hundred centuries of suffering. The priests, who are called +sheikhs, or chiefs, use a particular kind of baptism, which, they say, +was instituted by St. John; and the Chaldee language is used in this and +other ceremonies. + +The other religion, that of a more numerous branch, the Yezidis, is, in +some respects, like the Mendajaha, but with the addition of the evil +principle, the exalted doctor, who, as an instrument of the divine will, +is propitiated rather than worshiped, as had been once supposed. The +Yezidis reverence Moses, Christ, and Mohammed, in addition to many of +the saints and prophets held in veneration both by Christians and +Moslems. They adore the sun, as symbolical of Christ, and believe in an +intermediate state after death. The Yezidis of Sinjar do not practice +circumcision, nor do they eat pork; but they freely partake of the blood +of other animals. Their manners are simple, and their habits, both +within and without, remarkable for cleanliness. They are, besides, +brave, hospitable, sober, faithful, and, with the exception of the +Mohammedan, are inclined to tolerate other religions; they are, however, +lamentably deficient in every branch of education. Polygamy is not +permitted, and the tribes intermarry with each other. The families of +the father and sons live under the same roof, and the patriarchal system +is carried out still further, each village being under its own +hereditary chief. + + + + +THE APPROACH OF CHRISTMAS. + + The time draws near the birth of Christ, + The moon is hid, the night is still; + A single church below the hill + Is pealing, folded in the mist + + A single peal of bells below, + That wakens at this hour of rest + A single murmur in the breast, + That these are not the bells I know + + Like strangers' voices here they sound, + In lands where not a memory strays, + Nor landmark breathes of other days. + But all is new unhallow'd ground. + +TENNYSON'S "_In Memoriam_". + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +UGLINESS REDEEMED--A TALE OF A LONDON DUST-HEAP. + + +On a murky morning in November, wind northeast, a poor old woman with a +wooden leg was seen struggling against the fitful gusts of the bitter +breeze, along a stony, zig-zag road full of deep and irregular +cart-ruts. Her ragged petticoat was blue, and so was her wretched nose. +A stick was in her left hand, which assisted her to dig and hobble her +way along; and in her other hand, supported also beneath her withered +arm, was a large, rusty, iron sieve. Dust and fine ashes filled up all +the wrinkles in her face; and of these there were a prodigious number, +for she was eighty-three years old. Her name was Peg Dotting. + +About a quarter of a mile distant, having a long ditch and a broken-down +fence as a foreground, there rose against the muddled-gray sky, a huge +dust-heap of a dirty-black color--being, in fact, one of those immense +mounds of cinders, ashes, and other emptyings from dust-holes and bins, +which have conferred celebrity on certain suburban neighborhoods of a +great city. Toward this dusky mountain old Peg Dotting was now making +her way. + +Advancing toward the dust-heap by an opposite path, very narrow and just +reclaimed from the mud by a thick layer of freshly broken flints, there +came at the same time Gaffer Doubleyear, with his bone-bag slung over +his shoulder. The rags of his coat fluttered in the east-wind, which +also whistled keenly round his almost rimless hat, and troubled his one +eye. The other eye, having met with an accident last week, he had +covered neatly with an oyster-shell, which was kept in its place by a +string at each side, fastened through a hole. He used no staff to help +him along, though his body was nearly bent double, so that his face was +constantly turned to the earth, like that of a four-footed creature. He +was ninety-seven years of age. + +As these two patriarchal laborers approached the great dust-heap, a +discordant voice hallooed to them from the top of a broken wall. It was +meant as a greeting of the morning, and proceeded from little Jem +Clinker, a poor deformed lad, whose back had been broken when a child. +His nose and chin were much too large for the rest of his face, and he +had lost nearly all his teeth from premature decay. But he had an eye +gleaming with intelligence and life, and an expression at once patient +and hopeful. He had balanced his misshapen frame on the top of the old +wall, over which one shriveled leg dangled, as if by the weight of a +hob-nailed boot, that covered a foot large enough for a plowman. + +In addition to his first morning's salutation of his two aged friends, +he now shouted out in a tone of triumph and self-gratulation, in which +he felt assured of their sympathy--"Two white skins, and a +tor'shell-un." + +It may be requisite to state that little Jem Clinker belonged to the +dead-cat department of the dust-heap, and now announced that a prize of +three skins, in superior condition, had rewarded him for being first in +the field. He was enjoying a seat on the wall in order to recover +himself from the excitement of his good fortune. + +At the base of the great dust-heap the two old people now met their +young friend--a sort of great-grandson by mutual adoption--and they at +once joined the party who had by this time assembled as usual, and were +already busy at their several occupations. + +But besides all these, another individual, belonging to a very different +class, formed a part of the scene, though appearing only on its +outskirts. A canal ran along at the rear of the dust-heap, and on the +banks of its opposite side slowly wandered by--with hands clasped and +hanging down in front of him, and eyes bent vacantly upon his hands--the +forlorn figure of a man in a very shabby great-coat, which had evidently +once belonged to one in the position of a gentleman. And to a gentleman +it still belonged--but in _what_ a position! A scholar, a man of wit, of +high sentiment, of refinement, and a good fortune withal--now by a +sudden "turn of law" bereft of the last only, and finding that none of +the rest, for which (having his fortune) he had been so much admired, +enabled him to gain a livelihood. His title deeds had been lost or +stolen, and so he was bereft of every thing he possessed. He had +talents, and such as would have been profitably available had he known +how to use them for this new purpose; but he did not; he was +misdirected; he made fruitless efforts, in his want of experience; and +he was now starving. As he passed the great dust-heap, he gave one +vague, melancholy gaze that way, and then looked wistfully into the +canal. And he continued to look into the canal as he slowly moved along, +till he was out of sight. + +A dust-heap of this kind is often worth thousands of pounds. The present +one was very large and very valuable. It was in fact a large hill, and +being in the vicinity of small suburb cottages, it rose above them like +a great black mountain. Thistles, groundsel, and rank grass grew in +knots on small parts which had remained for a long time undisturbed; +crows often alighted on its top, and seemed to put on their spectacles +and become very busy and serious; flocks of sparrows often made +predatory descents upon it; an old goose and gander might sometimes be +seen following each other up its side, nearly midway; pigs rooted round +its base, and, now and then, one bolder than the rest would venture some +way up, attracted by the mixed odors of some hidden marrow-bone +enveloped in a decayed cabbage leaf--a rare event, both of these +articles being unusual oversights of the searchers below. + +The principal ingredient of all these dust-heaps is fine cinders and +ashes; but as they are accumulated from the contents of all the +dust-holes and bins of the vicinity, and as many more as possible, the +fresh arrivals in their original state present very heterogeneous +materials. We can not better describe them, than by presenting a brief +sketch of the different departments of the searchers and sorters, who +are assembled below to busy themselves upon the mass of original matters +which are shot out from the carts of the dustmen. + +The bits of coal, the pretty numerous results of accident and servants' +carelessness, are picked out, to be sold forthwith; the largest and best +of the cinders are also selected, by another party, who sell them to +laundresses, or to braziers (for whose purposes coke would not do so +well); and the next sort of cinders, called the _breeze_, because it is +left after the wind has blown the finer cinders through an upright +sieve, is sold to the brick-makers. + +Two other departments, called the "soft-ware" and the "hard-ware," are +very important. The former includes all vegetable and animal +matters--every thing that will decompose. These are selected and bagged +at once, and carried off as soon as possible, to be sold as manure for +ploughed land, wheat, barley, &c. Under this head, also, the dead cats +are comprised. They are, generally, the perquisites of the women +searchers. Dealers come to the wharf, or dust-field, every evening; they +give sixpence for a white cat, fourpence for a colored cat, and for a +black one according to her quality. The "hard-ware" includes all broken +pottery, pans, crockery, earthenware, oyster-shells, &c, which are sold +to make new roads. + +"The bones" are selected with care, and sold to the soap-boiler. He +boils out the fat and marrow first, for special use, and the bones are +then crushed and sold for manure. + +Of "rags," the woolen rags are bagged and sent off for hop-manure; the +white linen rags are washed, and sold to make paper, &c. + +The "tin things" are collected and put into an oven with a grating at +the bottom, so that the solder which unites the parts melts, and runs +through into a receiver. This is sold separately; the detached pieces of +tin are then sold to be melted up with old iron, &c. + +Bits of old brass, lead, &c., are sold to be melted up separately, or in +the mixture of ores. + +All broken glass vessels, as cruets, mustard-pots, tumblers, +wine-glasses, bottles, &c., are sold to the old-glass shops. + +As for any articles of jewelry, silver-spoons, forks, thimbles, or other +plate and valuables, they are pocketed off-hand by the first finder. +Coins of gold and silver are often found, and many "coppers." + +Meantime, every body is hard at work near the base of the great +dust-heap. A certain number of cart-loads having been raked and searched +for all the different things just described, the whole of it now +undergoes the process of sifting. The men throw up the stuff, and the +women sift it. + +"When I was a young girl," said Peg Dotting-- + +"That's a long while ago, Peggy," interrupted one of the sifters: but +Peg did not hear her. + +"When I was quite a young thing," continued she, addressing old John +Doubleyear, who threw up the dust into her sieve, "it was the fashion to +wear pink roses in the shoes, as bright as that morsel of ribbon Sally +has just picked out of the dust; yes, and sometimes in the hair, too, on +one side of the head, to set off the white powder and salve-stuff. I +never wore one of these head-dresses myself--don't throw up the dust so +high, John--but I lived only a few doors lower down from those as _did_. +Don't throw up the dust so high, I tell 'ee--the wind takes it into my +face." + +"Ah! There! What's that?" suddenly exclaimed little Jem, running as fast +as his poor withered legs would allow him, toward a fresh heap, which +had just been shot down on the wharf from a dustman's cart. He made a +dive and a search--then another--then one deeper still. "I'm _sure_ I +saw it!" cried he, and again made a dash with both hands into a fresh +place, and began to distribute the ashes, and dust, and rubbish on every +side, to the great merriment of all the rest. + +"What did you see, Jemmy?" asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate +tone. + +"Oh, I don't know," said the boy, "only it was like a bit of something +made of real gold!" + +A fresh burst of laughter from the company assembled followed this +somewhat vague declaration, to which the dustmen added one or two +elegant epithets, expressive of their contempt of the notion that _they_ +could have overlooked a bit of any thing valuable in the process of +emptying sundry dust-holes, and carting them away. + +"Ah," said one of the sifters, "poor Jem's always a-fancying something +or other good--but it never comes." + +"Didn't I find three cats this morning!" cried Jem; "two on 'em white +'uns! How you go on!" + +"I meant something quite different from the like o' that," said the +other; "I was a-thinking of the rare sights all you three there have +had, one time and another." + +The wind having changed and the day become bright, the party at work all +seemed disposed to be more merry than usual. The foregoing remark +excited the curiosity of several of the sifters, who had recently joined +the "company," the parties alluded to were requested to favor them with +the recital; and though the request was made with only a half-concealed +irony, still it was all in good-natured pleasantry, and was immediately +complied with. Old Doubleyear spoke first. + +"I had a bad night of it with the rats some years ago--they run'd all +over the floor, and over the bed, and one on 'em come'd and guv a squeak +close into my ear--so I couldn't sleep comfortable. I wouldn't ha' +minded a trifle of at; but this was too much of a good thing. So, I got +up before sun-rise, and went out for a walk; and thinking I might as +well be near our work-place, I slowly come'd down this way. I worked in +a brick-field at that time, near the canal yonder. The sun was just +a-rising up behind the dust-heap as I got in sight of it; and soon it +rose above, and was very bright; and though I had two eyes then, I was +obligated to shut them both. When I opened them again, the sun was +higher up; but in his haste to get over the dust-heap, he had dropped +something. You may laugh. I say he had dropped something. Well--I can't +say what it was, in course--a bit of his-self, I suppose. It was just +like him--a bit on him, I mean--quite as bright--just the same--only not +so big. And not up in the sky, but a-lying and sparkling all on fire +upon the dust-heap. Thinks I--I was a younger man then by some years +than I am now--I'll go and have a nearer look. Though you be a bit o' +the sun, maybe you won't hurt a poor man. So, I walked toward the +dust-heap, and up I went, keeping the piece of sparkling fire in sight +all the while. But before I got up to it, the sun went behind a +cloud--and as he went out-like, so the young 'un he had dropped, went +out after him. And I had my climb up the heap for nothing, though I had +marked the place were it lay very percizely. But there was no signs at +all on him, and no morsel left of the light as had been there. I +searched all about; but found nothing 'cept a bit o' broken glass as had +got stuck in the heel of an old shoe. And that's my story. But if ever a +man saw any thing at all, I saw a bit o' the sun; and I thank God for +it. It was a blessed sight for a poor ragged old man of three score and +ten, which was my age at that time." + +"Now, Peggy!" cried several voices, "tell us what you saw. Peg saw a bit +o' the moon." + +"No," said Mrs. Dotting, rather indignantly; "I'm no moon-raker. Not a +sign of the moon was there, nor a spark of a star--the time I speak on." + +"Well--go on, Peggy--go on." + +"I don't know as I will," said Peggy. + +But being pacified by a few good-tempered, though somewhat humorous +compliments, she thus favored them with her little adventure: + +"There was no moon, nor stars, nor comet, in the 'versal heavens, nor +lamp nor lantern along the road, when I walked home one winter's night +from the cottage of Widow Pin, where I had been to tea, with her and +Mrs. Dry, as lived in the almshouses. They wanted Davy, the son of Bill +Davy the milkman, to see me home with the lantern, but I wouldn't let +him 'cause of his sore throat. Throat!--no, it wasn't his throat as was +rare sore--it was--no, it wasn't--yes, it was--it was his toe as was +sore. His big toe. A nail out of his boot had got into it. I _told_ him +he'd be sure to have a bad toe, if he didn't go to church more regular, +but he wouldn't listen; and so my words come'd true. But, as I was +a-saying, I wouldn't let him light me with the lantern by reason of his +sore throat--_toe_, I mean--and as I went along, the night seemed to +grow darker and darker. A straight road, though, and I was so used to it +by day-time, it didn't matter for the darkness. Hows'ever, when I come'd +near the bottom of the dust-heap as I had to pass, the great dark heap +was so zackly the same as the night, you couldn't tell one from t'other. +So, thinks I to myself--_what_ was I thinking of at this moment?--for +the life o' me I can't call it to mind; but that's neither here nor +there, only for this--it was a something that led me to remember the +story of how the devil goes about like a roaring lion. And while I was +a-hoping he might not be out a-roaring that night, what should I see +rise out of one side of the dust-heap, but a beautiful shining star of a +violet color. I stood as still--as stock-still as any I don't-know-what! +There it lay, as beautiful as a new-born babe, all a-shining in the +dust! By degrees I got courage to go a little nearer--and then a little +nearer still--for, says I to myself, I'm a sinful woman, I know, but I +have repented, and do repent constantly of all the sins of my youth, and +the backslidings of my age--which have been numerous; and once I had a +very heavy backsliding--but that's neither here nor there. So, as I was +a-saying, having collected all my sinfulness of life, and humbleness +before heaven, into a goodish bit of courage, forward I steps--little +furder--and a leetle furder more--_un_-til I come'd just up to the +beautiful shining star lying upon the dust. Well, it was a long time I +stood a-looking down at it, before I ventured to do, what I arterwards +did. But _at_ last I did stoop down with both hands slowly--in case it +might burn, or bite--and gathering up a good scoop of ashes as my hands +went along, I took it up, and began a-carrying it home, all shining +before me, and with a soft, blue mist rising up round about it. Heaven +forgive me!--I was punished for meddling with what Providence had sent +for some better purpose than to be carried home by an old woman like me, +whom it has pleased heaven to afflict with the loss of one leg, and the +pain, ixpinse, and inconvenience of a wooden one. Well--I _was_ +punished; covetousness had its reward; for, presently, the violet light +got very pale, and then went out; and when I reached home, still holding +in both hands all I had gathered up, and when I took it to the candle, +it had turned into the red shell of a lobsky's head, and its two black +eyes poked up at me with a long stare--and I may say, a strong smell +too--enough to knock a poor body down." + +Great applause, and no little laughter, followed the conclusion of old +Peggy's story, but she did not join in the merriment. She said it was +all very well for young people to laugh, but at her age she had enough +to do to pray; and she had never said so many prayers, nor with so much +fervency, as she had done since she received the blessed sight of the +blue star on the dust-heap, and the chastising rod of the lobster's +head at home. + +Little Jem's turn now came; the poor lad was, however, so excited by the +recollection of what his companions called "Jem's Ghost," that he was +unable to describe it in any coherent language. To his imagination it +had been a lovely vision--the one "bright consummate flower" of his +life, which he treasured up as the most sacred image in his heart. He +endeavored, in wild and hasty words, to set forth, how that he had been +bred a chimney-sweep; that one Sunday afternoon he had left a set of +companions, most on 'em sweeps, who were all playing at marbles in the +church-yard, and he had wandered to the dust-heap, where he had fallen +asleep; that he was awoke by a sweet voice in the air, which said +something about some one having lost her way!--that he, being now wide +awake, looked up, and saw with his own eyes a young angel, with fair +hair and rosy cheeks, and large white wings at her shoulders, floating +about like bright clouds, rise out of the dust! She had on a garment of +shining crimson, which changed as he looked upon her to shining gold, +then to purple and gold. She then exclaimed, with a joyful smile, "I see +the right way!" and the next moment the angel was gone. + +As the sun was just now very bright and warm for the time of the year, +and shining full upon the dust-heap in its setting, one of the men +endeavored to raise a laugh at the deformed lad, by asking him if he +didn't expect to see just such another angel at this minute, who had +lost her way in the field on the other side of the heap; but his jest +failed. The earnestness and devout emotion of the boy to the vision of +reality which his imagination, aided by the hues of sunset, had thus +exalted, were too much for the gross spirit of banter, and the speaker +shrank back into his dust-hovel, and affected to be very assiduous in +his work as the day was drawing to a close. + +Before the day's work was ended, however, little Jem again had a glimpse +of the prize which had escaped him on the previous occasion. He +instantly darted, hands and head foremost, into the mass of cinders and +rubbish, and brought up a black mass of half-burnt parchment, entwined +with vegetable refuse, from which he speedily disengaged an oval frame +of gold, containing a miniature, still protected by its glass, but half +covered with mildew from the damp. He was in ecstasies at the prize. +Even the white cat-skins paled before it. In all probability some of the +men would have taken it from, him "to try and find the owner," but for +the presence and interference of his friends Peg Dotting and old +Doubleyear, whose great age, even among the present company, gave them a +certain position of respect and consideration. So all the rest now went +their way, leaving the three to examine and speculate on the prize. + +The dust-heaps are a wonderful compound of things. A banker's check for +a considerable sum was found in one of them. It was on Herries and +Farquhar, in 1847. But bankers' checks, or gold and silver articles, are +the least valuable of their ingredients. Among other things, a variety +of useful chemicals are extracted. Their chief value, however, is for +the making of bricks. The fine cinder-dust and ashes are used in the +clay of the bricks, both for the red and gray stacks. Ashes are also +used as fuel between the layers of the clump of bricks, which could not +be burned in that position without them. The ashes burn away, and keep +the bricks open. Enormous quantities are used. In the brick-fields at +Uxbridge, near the Drayton Station, one of the brickmakers alone will +frequently contract for fifteen or sixteen thousand chaldron of this +cinder-dust, in one order. Fine coke or coke-dust, affects the market at +times as a rival; but fine coal, or coal-dust, never, because it would +spoil the bricks. + +As one of the heroes of our tale had been originally--before his +promotion--a chimney-sweeper, it may be only appropriate to offer a +passing word on the genial subject of soot. Without speculating on its +origin and parentage, whether derived from the cooking of a Christmas +dinner, or the production of the beautiful colors and odors of exotic +plants in a conservatory, it can briefly be shown to possess many +qualities both useful and ornamental. When soot is first collected, it +is called "rough soot," which, being sifted, is then called "fine soot," +and is sold to farmers for manuring and preserving wheat and turnips. +This is more especially used in Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Essex, &c. +It is rather a costly article, being fivepence per bushel. One +contractor sells annually as much as three thousand bushels; and he +gives it as his opinion, that there must be at least one hundred and +fifty times this quantity (four hundred and fifty thousand bushels per +annum) sold in London. Farmer Smutwise of Bradford, distinctly asserts +that the price of the soot he uses on his land is returned to him in the +straw, with improvement also to the grain. And we believe him. Lime is +used to dilute soot when employed as a manure. Using it pure will keep +off snails, slugs, and caterpillars, from peas and various other +vegetables, as also from dahlias just shooting up, and other flowers; +but we regret to add that we have sometimes known it kill, or burn up +the things it was intended to preserve from unlawful eating. In short, +it is by no means so safe to use for any purpose of garden manure, as +fine cinders, and wood-ashes, which are good for almost any kind of +produce, whether turnips or roses. Indeed, we should like to have one +fourth or fifth part of our garden-beds composed of excellent stuff of +this kind. From all that has been said, it will have become very +intelligible why these dust-heaps are so valuable. Their worth, however, +varies not only with their magnitude (the quality of all of them is much +the same), but with the demand. About the year 1820, the Marylebone +dust-heap produced between four thousand and five thousand pounds. In +1832, St. George's paid Mr. Stapleton five hundred pounds a year, not +to leave the heap standing, but to carry it away. Of course he was only +too glad to be paid highly for selling his dust. + +But to return. The three friends having settled to their satisfaction +the amount of money they should probably obtain by the sale of the +golden miniature-frame, and finished the castles which they had built +with it in the air, the frame was again enfolded in the sound part of +the parchment, the rags and rottenness of the law were cast away, and up +they rose to bend their steps homeward to the little hovel where Peggy +lived, she having invited the others to tea that they might talk yet +more fully over the wonderful good luck that had befallen them. + +"Why, if there isn't a man's head in the canal!" suddenly cried little +Jem. "Looky there!--isn't that a man's head?--Yes; it's a drowndedd +man?" + +"A drowndedd man, as I live!" ejaculated old Doubleyear. + +"Let's get him out, and see!" cried Peggy. "Perhaps the poor soul's not +quite gone." + +Little Jem scuttled off to the edge of the canal, followed by the two +old people. As soon as the body had floated nearer, Jem got down into +the water, and stood breast-high, vainly measuring his distance with one +arm out, to see if he could reach some part of the body as it was +passing. As the attempt was evidently without a chance, old Doubleyear +managed to get down into the water behind him, and holding him by one +hand, the boy was thus enabled to make a plunge forward as the body was +floating by. He succeeded in reaching it; but the jerk was too much for +the weakness of his aged companion, who was pulled forward into the +canal. A loud cry burst from both of them, which was yet more loudly +echoed by Peggy on the bank. Doubleyear and the boy were now struggling +almost in the middle of the canal with the body of the man swirling +about between them. They would inevitably have been drowned, had not old +Peggy caught up a long dust-rake that was close at hand--scrambled down +up to her knees in the canal--clawed hold of the struggling group with +the teeth of the rake, and fairly brought the whole to land. Jem was +first up the bank, and helped up his two heroic companions; after which +with no small difficulty, they contrived to haul the body of the +stranger out of the water. Jem at once recognized in him the forlorn +figure of the man who had passed by in the morning, looking so sadly +into the canal, as he walked along. + +It is a fact well known to those who work in the vicinity of these great +dust-heaps, that when the ashes have been warmed by the sun, cats and +kittens that have been taken out of the canal and buried a few inches +beneath the surface, have usually revived; and the same has often +occurred in the case of men. Accordingly the three, without a moment's +hesitation, dragged the body along to the dust-heap, where they made a +deep trench, in which they placed it, covering it all over up to the +neck. + +"There now," ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover +her breath, "he'll lie very comfortable, whether or no." + +"Couldn't lie better," said old Doubleyear, "even if he knew it." + +The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result. + +"I thought I'd a lost him," said Jem, "and myself too; and when I pulled +Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world." + +"Yes," said Doubleyear, "it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had +not come in with the rake. How d'yee feel, old girl; for you've had a +narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled +you in to go with us." + +"The Lord be praised!" fervently ejaculated Peggy, pointing toward the +pallid face that lay surrounded with ashes. A convulsive twitching +passed over the features, the lips trembled, the ashes over the breast +heaved, and a low moaning sound, which might have come from the bottom +of the canal, was heard. Again the moaning sound, and then the eyes +opened, but closed almost immediately. "Poor dear soul!" whispered +Peggy, "how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don't +be afeared. We're only your good angels, like--only poor +cinder-sifters--don'tee be afeared." + +By various kindly attentions and man[oe]uvres such as these poor people +had been accustomed to practice on those who were taken out of the +canal, the unfortunate gentleman was gradually brought to his senses. He +gazed about him, as well he might--now looking in the anxious, though +begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their "weeds" and +dust--and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now +slowly rising. + +"Land of quiet Death!" murmured he, faintly, "or land of Life, as dark +and still--I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am +now in, seems doubtful to my senses." + +"Here we are, poor gentleman," cried Peggy, "here we are, all friends +about you. How did 'ee tumble into the canal?" + +"The Earth, then, once more!" said the stranger, with a deep sigh. "I +know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes--like +Death's kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many +uses." + +"Where do you live?" asked old Doubleyear; "shall we try and take you +home, sir?" + +The stranger shook his head mournfully. All this time, little Jem had +been assiduously employed in rubbing his feet and then his hands; in +doing which the piece of dirty parchment, with the miniature-frame, +dropped out of his breast-pocket. A good thought instantly struck Peggy. + +"Run, Jemmy dear--run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the +pawnbroker's--get something upon it directly, and buy some nice +brandy--and some Godfrey's cordial--and a blanket, Jemmy--and call a +coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as +fast as you can." + +But before Jemmy could attend to this, Mr. Waterhouse, the stranger +whose life they had preserved, raised himself on one elbow, and extended +his hand to the miniature-frame. Directly he looked at it, he raised +himself higher up--turned it about once or twice--then caught up the +piece of parchment; and uttering an ejaculation, which no one could have +distinguished either as of joy or of pain, sank back fainting. + +In brief, this parchment was a portion of the title-deeds he had lost; +and though it did not prove sufficient to enable him to recover his +fortune, it brought his opponent to a composition, which gave him an +annuity for life. Small as this was, he determined that these poor +people, who had so generously saved his life at the risk of their own, +should be sharers in it. Finding that what they most desired was to have +a cottage in the neighborhood of the dust-heap, built large enough for +all three to live together, and keep a cow, Mr. Waterhouse paid a visit +to Manchester-square, where the owner of the property resided. He told +his story, as far as was needful, and proposed to purchase the field in +question. + +The great dust-contractor was much amused, and his daughter--a very +accomplished young lady--was extremely interested. So the matter was +speedily arranged to the satisfaction and pleasure of all parties. The +acquaintance, however, did not end here. Mr. Waterhouse renewed his +visits very frequently, and finally made proposals for the young lady's +hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from +her father. + +"Well, sir," said the latter, "you wish to marry my daughter, and she +wishes to marry you. You are a gentleman and a scholar, but you have no +money. My daughter is what you see, and she has no money. But I have; +and therefore, as she likes you, and I like you, I'll make you both an +offer. I will give my daughter twenty thousand pounds--or you shall have +the dust-heap. Choose!" + +Mr. Waterhouse was puzzled and amused, and referred the matter entirely +to the young lady. But she was for having the money, and no trouble. She +said the dust-heap might be worth much, but they did not understand the +business. "Very well," said her father, laughing, "then there's the +money." + +This was the identical dust-heap, as we know from authentic information, +which was subsequently sold for forty thousand pounds, and was exported +to Russia to rebuild Moscow. + + + + +SKETCHES OF ENGLISH CHARACTER. + +BY WILLIAM HOWITT. + +THE OLD SQUIRE. + + +The old squire, or, in other words, the squire of the old school, is the +eldest born of John Bull; he is the "very moral of him;" as like him as +pea to pea. He has a tolerable share of his good qualities; and as for +his prejudices--oh, they are his meat and drink, and the very clothes +he wears. He is made up of prejudices--he is covered all over with them. +They are the staple of his dreams; they garnish his dishes, they spice +his cup, they enter into his very prayers, and they make his will +altogether. His oaks and elms in his park, and in his woods--they are +sturdy timbers, in troth, and gnarled and knotted to some purpose, for +they have stood for centuries; but what are they to the towering +upshoots of his prejudices? Oh, they are mere wands! If he has not stood +for centuries, his prejudices have; for they have come down from +generation to generation with the family and the estate. They have +ridden, to use another figure, like the Old Man of the Sea, on the +shoulders of his ancestors, and have skipped from those of one ancestor +to those of the next; and there they sit on his own most venerable, +well-fed, comfortable, ancient, and gray-eyed prejudices, as familiar to +their seat as the collar of his coat. He would take cold without them; +to part with them would be the death of him. So! don't go too +near--don't let us alarm them; for, in truth, they have had insults, and +met with impertinences of late years, and have grown fretful and +cantankerous in their old age. Nay, horrid radicals have not hesitated, +in this wicked generation, to aim sundry deadly blows at them; and it +has been all that the old squire has been able to do to protect them. +Then-- + + You need not rub them backwards like a cat, + If you would see them spirt and sparkle up. + +You have only to give one look at them, and they will appear to all in +bristles and fury, like a nest of porcupines. + +The old squire, like his father, is a sincere lover and a most hearty +hater. What does he love? Oh, he loves the country--'tis the only +country on the earth that is worth calling a country; and he loves the +constitution. But don't ask him what it is, unless you want to test the +hardness of his walking-stick; it is the constitution, the finest thing +in the world, and all the better for being, like the Athanasian creed, a +mystery. Of what use is it that the mob should understand it? It is our +glorious constitution--that is enough. Are you not contented to feel how +good it is, without going to peer into its very entrails, and perhaps +ruin it, like an ignorant fellow putting his hand into the works of a +clock? Are you not contented to let the sun shine on you? Do you want to +go up and see what it is made of? Well, then, it is the +constitution--the finest thing in the world; and, good as the country +is, it would be good for nothing without it, no more than a hare would +without stuffing, or a lantern without a candle, or the church without +the steeple or the ring of bells. Well, he loves the constitution, as he +ought to do; for has it not done well for him and his forefathers? And +has it not kept the mob in their places, spite of the French Revolution? +And taken care of the National Debt? And has it not taught us all to +"fear God and honor the king;" and given the family estate to him, the +church to his brother Ned, and put Fred and George into the army and +navy? Could there possibly be a better constitution, if the Whigs could +but let it alone with their Reform Bills? And, therefore, as he most +reasonably loves the dear, old, mysterious, and benevolent constitution +to distraction, and places it in the region of his veneration somewhere +in the seventh heaven itself, so he hates every body and thing that +hates it. + +He hates Frenchmen because he loves his country, and thinks we are +dreadfully degenerated that we do not nowadays find some cause, as the +wisdom of our ancestors did, to pick a quarrel with them, and give them +a good drubbing. Is not all our glory made up of beating the French and +the Dutch? And what is to become of history, and the army and the fleet, +if we go on this way? He does not stop to consider that the army, at +least, thrives as well with peace as war; that it continues to increase; +that it eats, drinks, and sleeps as well, and dresses better, and lives +a great deal more easily and comfortably in peace than in war. But, +then, what is to become of history, and the drubbing of the French? Who +may, however, possibly die of "envy and admiration of our glorious +constitution." + +The old squire loves the laws of England; that is, all the laws that +ever were passed by kings, lords, and commons, especially if they have +been passed some twenty years, and he has had to administer them. The +poor-law and the game-law, the impressment act, the law of +primogeniture, the law of capital punishments; all kind of private acts +for the inclosure of commons; turnpike acts, stamp acts, and acts of all +sorts; he loves and venerates them all, for they are part and parcel of +the statute law of England. As a matter of course, he hates most +religiously all offenders against such acts. The poor are a very good +sort of people; nay, he has a thorough and hereditary liking for the +poor, and they have sundry doles and messes of soup from the Hall, as +they had in his father's time, so long as they go to church, and don't +happen to be asleep there when he is awake himself; and don't come upon +the parish, or send bastards there; so long as they take off their hats +with all due reverence, and open gates when they see him coming. But if +they presume to go to the Methodists' meeting, or to a Radical club, or +complain of the price of bread, which is a grievous sin against the +agricultural interest; or to poach, which is all crimes in one--if they +fall into any of these sins, oh, then, they are poor devils indeed! Then +does the worthy old squire hate all the brood of them most righteously; +for what are they but Atheists, Jacobins, Revolutionists, Chartists, +rogues and vagabonds? With what a frown he scowls on them as he meets +them in one of the narrow old lanes, returning from some camp meeting or +other; how he expects every dark night to hear of ricks being burnt, or +pheasants shot. How does he tremble for the safety of the country while +they are at large; and with what satisfaction does he grant a warrant to +bring them before him; and, as a matter of course, how joyfully, spite +of all pleas and protestations of innocence, does he commit them to the +treadmill, or the county jail, for trial at the quarter sessions. + +He has a particular affection for the quarter sessions, for there he, +and his brethren all put together, make, he thinks, a tolerable +representation of majesty; and thence he has the satisfaction of seeing +all the poachers transported beyond the seas. The county jail and the +house of correction are particular pets of his. He admires even their +architecture, and prides himself especially on the size and massiveness +of the prison. He used to extend his fondness even to the stocks; but +the treadmill, almost the only modern thing which has wrought such a +miracle, has superseded it in his affections, and the ancient stocks now +stand deserted, and half lost in a bed of nettles; but he still looks +with a gracious eye on the parish pound, and returns the pinder's touch +of his hat with a marked attention, looking upon him as one of the most +venerable appendages of antique institutions. + +Of course the old squire loves the church. Why, it is ancient, and that +is enough of itself; but, beside that, all the wisdom of his ancestors +belonged to it. His great-great-uncle was a bishop; his wife's +grandfather was a dean; he has the presentation of the living, which is +now in the hands of his brother Ned; and he has himself all the great +tithes which, in the days of popery, belonged to it. He loves it all the +better, because he thinks that the upstart dissenters want to pull it +down; and he hates all upstarts. And what! Is it not the church of the +queen, and the ministers, and all the nobility, and of all the old +families? It is the only religion for a gentleman, and, therefore, it is +his religion. Would the dissenting minister hob-nob with him as +comfortably over the after-dinner bottle as Ned does, and play a rubber +as comfortably with him, and let him swear a comfortable oath now and +then? 'Tis not to be supposed. Besides, of what family is this +dissenting minister? Where does he spring from? At what university did +he graduate? 'Twon't do for the old squire. No! the clerk, the sexton, +and the very churchwardens of the time being, partake, in his eye, of +the time-tried sanctity of the good old church, and are bound up in the +bundle of his affections. + +These are a few of the old squire's likings and antipathies, which are +just as much part of himself, as the entail is of his inheritance. But +we shall see yet more of them when we come to see more of him and his +abode. The old squire is turned of threescore, and every thing is old +about him. He lives in an old house in the midst of an old park, which +has a very old wall, end gates so old, that though they are made of oak +as hard as iron, they begin to stoop in the shoulders, like the old +gentleman himself and the carpenter, who is an old man too, and has +been watching them forty years in hopes of their tumbling, and gives +them a good lusty bang after him every time he passes through, swears +they must have been made in the days of King Canute. The squire has an +old coach drawn by two and occasionally by four old fat horses, and +driven by a jolly old coachman, in which his old lady and his old maiden +sister ride; for he seldom gets into it himself, thinking it a thing fit +only for women and children, preferring infinitely the back of Jack, his +old roadster. + +If you went to dine with him, you would find him just as you would have +found his father; not a thing has been changed since his days. There is +the great entrance hall, with its cold stone floor, and its fine +tall-backed chairs, and an old walnut cabinet; and on the walls a +quantity of stags' horns, with caps and riding-whips hung on them; and +the pictures of his ancestors, in their antiquated dresses, and slender, +tarnished, antiquated frames. In his drawing-room you will find none of +your new grand pianos and fashionable couches and ottomans; but an old +spinet and a fiddle, another set of those long-legged, tall-backed +chairs, two or three little settees, a good massy table, and a fine +large carved mantle-piece, with bright steel dogs instead of a modern +stove, and logs of oak burning, if it be cold. At table, all his plate +is of the most ancient make, and he drinks toasts and healths in +tankards of ale that is strong enough to make a horse reel, but which he +continually avows is as mild as mother's milk, and wouldn't hurt an +infant. He has an old rosy butler, and loves very old venison, which +fills the whole house with its perfume while roasting; and an old +double-Gloucester cheese, full of jumpers and mites; and after it a +bottle of old port, at which he is often joined by the parson, and +always by a queer, quiet sort of a tall, thin man, in a seedy black +coat, and with a crimson face, bearing testimony to the efficacy of the +squire's port and "mother's milk." + +This man is always to be seen about, and has been these twenty years. He +goes with the squire a-coursing and shooting, and into the woods with +him. He carries his shot-belt and powder-flask, and gives him out his +chargings and his copper caps. He is as often seen about the steward's +house; and he comes in and out of the squire's just as he pleases, +always seating himself in a particular chair near the fire, and pinches +the ears of the dogs, and gives the cat, now and then, a pinch of snuff +as she lies sleeping in a chair; and when the squire's old lady says, +"How _can_ you do so, Mr. Wagstaff?" he only gives a quiet, chuckling +laugh, and says, "Oh, they like it, madam; they like it, you may +depend." That is the longest speech he ever makes, for he seldom does +more than say "yes" and "no" to what is said to him, and still oftener +gives only a quiet smile and a soft of little nasal "hum." The squire +has a vast affection for him, and always walks up to the little chamber +which is allotted to him, once a week, to see that the maid does not +neglect it; though at table he cuts many a sharp joke upon Wagstaff, to +which Wagstaff only returns a smile and a shake of the head, which is +more full of meaning to the squire than a long speech. Such is the old +squire's constant companion. + +But we have not yet done with the squire's antiquities. He has an old +woodman, an old shepherd, an old justice's clerk, and almost all his +farmers are old. He seems to have an antipathy to almost every thing +that is not old. Young men are his aversion; they are such coxcombs, he +says, nowadays. The only exception is a young woman. He always was a +great admirer of the fair sex; though we are not going to rake up the +floating stories of the neighborhood about the gallantries of his youth; +but his lady, who is justly considered to have been as fine a woman as +ever stepped in shoe-leather, is a striking proof of his judgment in +women. Never, however, does his face relax into such pleasantness of +smiles and humorous twinkles of the eye, as when he is in company with +young ladies. He is full of sly compliments and knowing hints about +their lovers, and is universally reckoned among them "a dear old +gentleman." + +When he meets a blooming country damsel crossing the park, or as he +rides along a lane, he is sure to stop and have a word with her. "Aha, +Mary! I know you, there! I can tell you by your mother's eyes and lips +that you've stole away from her. Ay, you're a pretty slut enough, but I +remember your mother. Gad! I don't know whether you are entitled to +carry her slippers after her! But never mind, you're handsome enough; +and I reckon you're going to be married directly. Well, well, I won't +make you blush; so, good-by, Mary, good-by! Father and mother are both +hearty--eh?" + +The routine of the old squire's life may be summed up in a sentence: +hearing cases and granting warrants and licenses, and making out +commitments as justice; going through the woods to look after the +growth, and trimming, and felling of his trees; going out with his +keeper to reconnoitre the state of his covers and preserves; attending +quarter sessions; dining occasionally with the judge on circuit; +attending the county ball and the races; hunting and shooting, dining +and singing a catch or glee with Wagstaff and the parson over his port. +He has a large, dingy room, surrounded with dingy folios, and other +books in vellum bindings, which he calls his library. Here he sits as +justice; and here he receives his farmers on rent-days, and a wonderful +effect it has on their imaginations; for who can think otherwise than +that the squire must be a prodigious scholar, seeing all that array of +big books? And, in fact, the old squire is a great reader in his own +line. He reads the _Times_ daily; and he reads Gwillim's "Heraldry," the +"History of the Landed Gentry," Rapin's "History of England," and all +the works of Fielding, Richardson, and Sterne, whom he declares to be +the greatest writers England ever produced, or ever will produce. + +But the old squire is not without his troubles. In his serious judgment +all the world is degenerating. The nation is running headlong to ruin. +"Lord, how different it was in my time!" is his constant exclamation. +The world is now completely turned topsy-turvy. Here is the Reform Bill, +the New Poor-law, which though it does make sharp work among the rogues +and vagabonds, yet has sorely shorn the authority of magistrates. Here +are the New Game-laws, Repeal of the Corn-laws, and the Navigation-laws; +new books, all trash and nonsense; and these harum-scarum railroads, +cutting up the country and making it dangerous to be riding out any +where. "Just," says he, "as a sober gentleman is riding quietly by the +side of his wood, bang! goes that 'hell-in-harness,' a steam-engine, +past. Up goes the horse, down goes the rider to a souse in the ditch, +and a broken collar bone." + +Then all the world is now running all over the continent, learning all +sorts of Frenchified airs and fashions and notions, and beggaring +themselves into the bargain. He never set foot on the d--d, beggarly, +frog-eating Continent--not he! It was thought enough to live at home, +and eat good roast beef, and sing "God save the King," in his time; but +now a man is looked upon as a mere clown who has not run so far round +the world that he can seldom ever find his way back again to his +estate, but stops short in London, where all the extravagance and +nonsense in creation are concentrated, to help our mad gentry out of +their wits and their money together. The old squire groans here in +earnest; for his daughter, who has married Sir Benjamin Spankitt, and +his son Tom, who has married the Lady Babara Ridemdown, are as mad as +the rest of them. + +Of Tom, the young squire, we shall take a more complete view anon. But +there is another of the old squire's troubles yet to be noticed, and +that is in the shape of an upstart. One of the worst features of the +times is the growth and spread of upstarts. Old families going down, as +well as old customs, and new people, who are nobody, taking their +places. Old estates bought up--not by the old gentry, who are scattering +their money in London, and among all the grinning monsieurs, mynheers, +and signores, on the frogified continent, but by the soap-boilers and +sugar-bakers of London. The country gentry, he avers, have been fools +enough to spend their money in London, and now the people they have +spent it among are coming and buying up all the estates about them. Ask +him, as you ride out with him by the side of some great wood or +venerable park, "What old family lives there?" "Old family!" he +exclaims, with an air of angry astonishment; "old family! Where do you +see old families nowadays? That is Sir Peter Post, the great +horse-racer, who was a stable-boy not twenty years ago; and that great +brick house on the hill there is the seat of one of the great Bearrings, +who have made money enough among the bulls and bears to buy up the +estates of half the fools hereabout. But that is nothing; I can assure +you, men are living in halls and abbeys in these parts, who began their +lives in butchers' shops and cobblers' stalls." + +It might, however, be tolerated that merchants and lawyers, +stock-jobbers, and even sugar-bakers and soap-boilers, should buy up the +old houses; but the most grievous nuisance, and perpetual thorn in the +old squire's side, is Abel Grundy, the son of an old wheelwright, who, +by dint of his father's saving and his own sharpness, has grown into a +man of substance under the squire's own nose. Abel began by buying odds +and ends of lands and scattered cottages, which did not attract the +squire's notice; till at length, a farm being to be sold, which the +squire meant to have, and did not fear any opponent, Abel Grundy bid for +it, and bought it, striking the old steward actually dumb with +astonishment; and then it was found that all the scattered lots which +Grundy had been buying up, lay on one side or other of this farm, and +made a most imposing whole. To make bad worse, Grundy, instead of taking +off his hat when he met the old squire, began now to lift up his own +head very high; built a grand house on the land plump opposite to the +squire's hall-gates; has brought a grand wife--a rich citizen's +daughter; set up a smart carriage; and as the old squire is riding out +on his old horse Jack, with his groom behind him, on a roan pony with a +whitish mane and tail, the said groom having his master's great coat +strapped to his back, as he always has on such occasions, drives past +with a dash and a cool impudence that are most astonishing. + +The only comfort that the old squire has in the case is talking of the +fellow's low origin. "Only to think," says he, "that this fellow's +father hadn't even wood enough to make a wheel-barrow till my family +helped him; and I have seen this scoundrel himself scraping manure in +the high roads, before he went to the village school in the morning, +with his toes peeping out of his shoes, and his shirt hanging like a +rabbit's tail out of his ragged trowsers; and now the puppy talks of 'my +carriage,' and 'my footman,' and says that 'he and _his lady purpose_ to +spend the winter in _the_ town,' meaning London!" + +Wagstaff laughs at the squire's little criticism on Abel Grundy, and +shakes his head; but he can not shake the chagrin out of the old +gentleman's heart. Abel Grundy's upstart greatness will be the death of +the OLD SQUIRE. + + * * * * * + +THE YOUNG SQUIRE. + + By smiling fortune blessed + With large demesnes, hereditary wealth. + SOMERVILLE. + + +The Old Squire and the Young Squire are the antipodes of each other. +They are representatives of two entirely different states of society in +this country; the one, but the vestige of that which has been; the +other, the full and perfect image of that which is. The old squires are +like the last fading and shriveled leaves of autumn that yet hang on +the tree. A few more days will pass; age will send one of his nipping +nights, and down they will twirl, and be swept away into the oblivious +hiding-places of death, to be seen no more. But the young squire is one +of the full-blown blossoms of another summer. He is flaunting in the +sunshine of a state of wealth and luxury, which we, as our fathers in +their days did, fancy can by no possibility be carried many degrees +farther, and yet we see it every day making some new and extraordinary +advance. + +It is obvious that there are many intervening stages of society, among +our country gentry, between the old squire and the young, as there are +intermediate degrees of age. The old squires are those of the completely +last generation, who have outlived their contemporaries, and have made a +dead halt on the ground of their old habits, sympathies, and opinions, +and are resolved to quit none of them for what they call the follies and +new-fangled notions of a younger, and, of course, more degenerate race. +They are continually crying, "Oh, it never was so in my day!" They point +to tea, and stoves in churches, and the universal use of umbrellas, +parasols, cork-soled shoes, warming-pans, and carriages, as +incontestible proofs of the rapidly-increasing effeminacy of mankind. +But between these old veterans and their children, there are the men of +the middle ages, who have, more or less, become corrupted with modern +ways and indulgences; have, more or less, introduced modern furniture, +modern hours, modern education, and tastes, and books; and have, more or +less, fallen into the modern custom of spending a certain part of the +year in London. With these we have nothing whatever to do. The old +squire is the landmark of the ancient state of things, and his son Tom +is the epitome of the new; all between is a mere transition and +evanescent condition. + +Tom Chesselton was duly sent by his father to Eton as a boy, where he +became a most accomplished scholar in cricket, boxing, horses, and dogs, +and made the acquaintance of several lords, who taught him the way of +letting his father's money slip easily through his fingers without +burning them, and engrafted him besides with a fine stock of truly +aristocratic tastes, which will last him his whole life. From Eton he +was duly transferred to Oxford, where he wore his gown and trencher-cap +with a peculiar grace, and gave a classic finish to his taste in horses, +in driving, and in ladies. Having completed his education with great +_eclat_, he was destined by his father to a few years' soldiership in +the militia, as being devoid of all danger, and moreover, giving +opportunities for seeing a great deal of the good old substantial +families in different parts of the kingdom. But Tom turned up his nose, +or rather his handsome upper lip, with a most consummate scorn at so +groveling a proposal, and assured his father that nothing but a +commission in the Guards, where several of his noble friends were doing +distinguished honor to their country, by the display of their fine +figures, would suit him. The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders and +was silent, thinking that the six thousand pounds purchase-money would +be quite as well at fifteen per cent. in turnpike shares a little +longer. But Tom, luckily, was not doomed to rusticate long in melancholy +under his patrimonial oaks: his mother's brother, an old bachelor of +immense wealth, died just in time, leaving Tom's sister, Lady Spankitt, +thirty thousand pounds in the funds; and Tom, as heir-at-law, his great +Irish estates. Tom, on the very first vacancy, bought into the Guards, +and was soon marked out by the ladies as one of the most _distingue_ +officers that ever wore a uniform. In truth, Tom was a very handsome +fellow; that he owed to his parents, who, in their day, were as +noble-looking a couple as ever danced at a county-ball, or graced the +balcony of a race-stand. + +Tom soon married; but he did not throw himself away sentimentally on a +mere face; he achieved the hand of the sister of one of his old college +chums, and now brother-officer--the Lady Barbara Ridemdown. An earl's +daughter was something in the world's eye; but such an earl's daughter +as Lady Barbara, was the height of Tom's ambition. She was equally +celebrated for her wit, her beauty, and her large fortune. Tom had won +her from amid the very blaze of popularity and the most splendid offers. +Their united fortunes enabled them to live in the highest style. Lady +Barbara's rank and connections demanded it, and the spirit of our young +squire required it as much. Tom Chesselton disdained to be a whit behind +any of his friends, however wealthy or high titled. His tastes were +purely aristocratic; with him, dress, equipage, and amusements, were +matters of science. He knew, both from a proud instinct and from study, +what was precisely the true _ton_ in every article of dress or equipage, +and the exact etiquette in every situation. But Lady Barbara panted to +visit the Continent, where she had already spent some years, and which +presented so many attractions to her elegant tastes. Tom had elegant +tastes, too, in his way; and to the Continent they went. The old squire +never set his foot on even the coast of Calais: when he has seen it from +Dover, he has only wished that he could have a few hundred tons of +gunpowder, and blow it into the air; but Tom and Lady Barbara have lived +on the Continent for years. + +This was a bitter pill for the old squire. When Tom purchased his +commission in the Guards, and when he opened a house like a palace, on +his wedding with Lady Barbara, the old gentleman felt proud of his son's +figure, and proud of his connections. "Ah," said he, "Tom's a lad of +spirit; he'll sow his wild oats, and come to his senses presently." But +when he fairly embarked for France, with a troop of servants, and a +suite of carriages, like a nobleman, then did the old fellow fairly +curse and swear, and call him all the unnatural and petticoat-pinioned +fools in his vocabulary, and prophesy his bringing his ninepence to a +groat. Tom and Lady Barbara, however, upheld the honor of England all +over the Continent. In Paris, at the baths of Germany, at Vienna, +Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples--every where, they were distinguished by +their fine persons, their fine equipage, their exquisite tastes, and +their splendid entertainments. They were courted and caressed by all the +distinguished, both of their own countrymen and of foreigners. Tom's +horses and equipage were the admiration of the natives. He drove, he +rode, he yachted, to universal admiration; and, meantime, his lady +visited all the galleries and works of art, and received in her house +all the learned and the literary of all countries. There, you always +found artists, poets, travelers, critics, _dilettanti_, and +connoisseurs, of all nations and creeds. + +They have again honored their country with their presence; and who so +much the fashion as they? They are, of course, _au fait_ in every matter +of taste and fashion; on all questions of foreign life, manners, and +opinions, their judgment is the law. Their town-house is in +Eaton-square; and what a house is that! What a paradise of fairy +splendor! what a mine of wealth, in the most superb furniture, in books +in all languages, paintings, statuary, and precious fragments of the +antique, collected out of every classical city and country. If you see a +most exquisitely tasteful carriage, with a most fascinatingly beautiful +lady in it, in the park, amid all the brilliant concourse of the ring, +you may be sure you see the celebrated Lady Barbara Chesselton; and you +can not fail to recognize Tom Chesselton the moment you clap eyes on +him, by his distinguished figure, and the splendid creature on which he +is mounted--to say nothing of the perfection of his groom, and the steed +which he also bestrides. Tom never crosses the back of a horse of less +value than a thousand pounds; and if you want to know really what horses +are, you must go down to his villa at Wimbledon, if you are not lucky +enough to catch a sight of him proceeding to a levee, or driving his +four-in-hand to Ascot or Epsom. All Piccadilly has been seen to stand, +lost in silent admiration, as he has driven his splendid britchzka along +it, with his perfection of a little tiger by his side; and such cattle +as never besides were seen in even harness of such richness and +elegance. Nay, some scores of ambitious young whips became sick of their +envy of his superb gauntlet driving-gloves. + +But, in fact, in Tom's case, as in all others, you have only to know his +companions to know him; and who are they but Chesterfield, Conyngham, +D'Orsay, Eglintoun, my Lord Waterford, and men of similar figure and +reputation. To say that he is well known to all the principal +frequenters of the Carlton Club; that his carriages are of the most +perfect make ever turned out by Windsor; that his harness is only from +Shipley's; and that Stultz has the honor of gracing his person with his +habiliments; is to say that our young squire is one of the most perfect +men of fashion in England. Lady Barbara and himself have a common +ground of elegance of taste, and knowledge of the first principles of +genuine aristocratic life; but they have very different pursuits, +arising from the difference of their genius, and they follow them with +the utmost mutual approbation. + +Lady Barbara is at once the worshiped beauty, the woman of fashion, and +of literature. No one has turned so many heads, by the loveliness of her +person, and the bewitching fascination of her manners, as Lady Barbara. +She is a wit, a poetess, a connoisseur in art; and what can be so +dangerously delightful as all these characters in a fashionable beauty, +and a woman, moreover, of such rank and wealth? She does the honors of +her house to the mutual friends and noble connections of her husband and +herself with a perpetual grace; but she has, besides, her evenings for +the reception of her literary and artistic acquaintance and admirers. +And who, of all the throng of authors, artists, critics, journalists, +connoisseurs, and amateurs, who flock there are not her admirers? Lady +Barbara Chesselton writes travels, novels, novellets, philosophical +reflections, poems, and almost every species of thing which ever has +been written--such is the universality of her knowledge, experience, and +genius: and who does not hasten to be the first to pour out in reviews, +magazines, daily and hebdomadal journals, the earliest and most fervid +words of homage and admiration? Lady Barbara edits an annual, and is a +contributor to the "Keepsake;" and in her kindness, she is sure to find +out all the nice young men about the press; to encourage them by her +smile, and to raise them, by her fascinating conversation and her +brilliant saloons, above those depressing influences of a too sensitive +modesty, which so weighs on the genius of the youth of this age; so that +she sends them away, all heart and soul, in the service of herself and +literature, which are the same thing; and away they go, extemporizing +praises on her ladyship, and spreading them through leaves of all sizes, +to the wondering eyes of readers all the world over. Publishers run with +their unsalable manuscripts, and beg Lady Barbara to have the goodness +to put her name on the title, knowing by golden experience that one +stroke of her pen, like the point of a galvanic wire, will turn all the +dullness of the dead mass into flame. Lady Barbara is not barbarous +enough to refuse so simple and complimentary a request; nay, her +benevolence extends on every hand. Distressed authors, male and female, +who have not her rank, and, therefore, most clearly not her genius, beg +her to take their literary bantlings under her wing; and with a heart, +as full of generous sympathies as her pen is of magic, she writes but +her name on the title as an "Open Sesame!" and lo! the dead become +alive; her genius permeates the whole volume, which that moment puts +forth wings of popularity, and flies into every bookseller's shop and +every circulating library in the kingdom. + +Such is the life of glory and Christian benevolence which Lady Barbara +daily leads, making authors, critics, and publishers all happy together, +by the overflowing radiance of her indefatigable and inexhaustible +genius, though she sometimes slyly laughs to herself, and says, "What a +thing is a title! if it were not for that, would all these people come +to me?" While Tom, who is member of parliament for the little borough of +Dearish, most patriotically discharges his duty by pairing off--visits +the classic grounds of Ascot, Epsom, Newmarket, or Goodwood, or +traverses the moors of Scotland and Ireland in pursuit of grouse. But +once a year they indulge their filial virtues in a visit to the old +squire. The old squire, we are sorry to say, has grown of late years +queer and snappish, and does not look on this visit quite as gratefully +as he should. "If they would but come," he says, "in a quiet way, as I +used to ride over and see my father in his time, why I should be right +glad to see them; but, here they come, like the first regiment of an +invading army, and God help those who are old, and want to be quiet!" + +The old gentleman, moreover, is continually haranguing about Tom's folly +and extravagance. It is his perpetual topic to his wife, and wife's +maiden sister, and Wagstaff. Wagstaff only shakes his head, and says, +"Young blood! young blood!" but Mrs. Chesselton and the maiden sister +say, "Oh! Mr. Chesselton, you don't consider: Tom has great connections, +and he is obliged to keep a certain establishment. Things are different +now to what they were in our time. Tom is universally allowed to be a +very fine man, and Lady Barbara is a very fine woman, and a prodigious +clever woman! and you ought to be proud of them, Chesselton." At which +the old gentleman breaks out, if he be a little elevated over his wine: + + When the Duke of Leeds shall married be + To a fine young lady of high quality, + How happy will that gentlewoman be + In his grace of Leeds good company! + + She shall have all that's fine and fair, + And the best of silk and satin to wear; + And ride in a coach to take the air, + And have a house in St. James's-square. + +Lady Barbara always professes great affection and reverence for the old +gentleman, and sends him many merry and kind compliments and messages; +and sends him, moreover, her new books as soon as they are out, most +magnificently bound; but all won't do. He only says, "If she'd please +me, she'd give up that cursed opera-box. Why, the rent of that +thing--only to sit in and hear Italian women squealing and squalling, +and to see impudent, outlandish baggages kicking up their heels higher +than any decent heads ought to be--the rent, I say, would maintain a +parish rector, or keep half-a-dozen parish schools a-going." As for her +books, that all the world besides are in raptures about, the old squire +turns them over as a dog would a hot dumpling; says nothing but a Bible +ought to be so extravagantly bound; and professes that "the matter may +all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it." Yet, +whenever Lady Barbara is with him, she is sure to talk and smile herself +in about half an hour into his high favor; and he begins to run about to +show her this and that, and calls out every now and then, "Let Lady +Barbara see this, and go to look at that." She can do any thing with +him, except get him to London. "London!" he exclaims; "no; get me to +Bedlam at once! What has a rusty old fellow, like me, to do at London? +If I could find again the jolly set that used to meet, thirty years ago, +at the Star and Garter, Pall Mall, it might do; but London isn't what +London used to be. It's too fine by half for a country squire, and would +drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and +nonsense." + +But the old squire does get pretty well distracted with the annual +visit. Down come driving the young squire and Lady Barbara, with a train +of carriages like a fleet of men-of-war, leading the way with their +traveling-coach and four horses. Up they twirl to the door of old hall. +The old bell rings a thundering peal through the house. Doors fly +open--out come servants--down come the young guests from their +carriages; and while embraces and salutations are going on in the +drawing-room, the hall is fast filling with packages upon packages; +servants are running to and fro along the passages; grooms and carriages +are moving off to the stables without; there is lifting and grunting at +portmanteaus and imperials, as they are borne up-stairs; while ladies' +maids and nursemaids are crying out, "Oh, take care of that trunk!" +"Mind that ban'-box!" "Oh, gracious! that is my lady's dressing-case; it +will be down, and be totally ruined!" Dogs are barking; children crying, +or romping about, and the whole house in the most blessed state of +bustle and confusion. + +For a week the hurly-burly continues; in pour all the great people to +see Tom and Lady Barbara. There are shootings in the mornings, and great +dinner parties in the evenings. Tom and my lady have sent down before +them plenty of hampers of such wines as the old squire neither keeps nor +drinks, and they have brought their plate along with them; and the old +house itself is astonished at the odors of champagne, claret, and hook, +that pervade, and at the glitter of gold and silver in it. The old man +is full of attention and politeness, both to his guests and to their +guests; but he is half worried with the children, and t'other half +worried with so many fine folks; and muddled with drinking things that +he is not used to, and with late hours. Wagstaff has fled--as he always +does on such occasions--to a farm-house on the verge of the estate. The +hall, and the parsonage, and even the gardener's house, are all full of +beds for guests, and servants, and grooms. Presently, the old gentleman, +in his morning rides, sees some of the young bucks shooting the +pheasants in his home-park, where he never allows them to be disturbed, +and comes home in a fume, to hear that the house is turned upside-down +by the host of scarlet-breeched and powdered livery-servants, and that +they have turned all the maids' heads with sweethearting. But, at +length, the day of departure arrives, and all sweep away as suddenly and +rapidly as they came; and the old squire sends off for Wagstaff, and +blesses his stars that what he calls "the annual hurricane," is over. + +But what a change will there be when the old squire is dead! Already +have Tom and Lady Barbara walked over the ground, and planned it. That +horrid fright of an old house, as they call it, will be swept as clean +away as if it had not stood there five hundred years. A grand +Elizabethean pile is already decreed to succeed it. The fashionable +architect will come driving down in his smart Brougham, with all his +plans and papers. A host of mechanics will come speedily after him, by +coach or by wagon: booths will be seen rising all around the old place, +which will vanish away, and its superb successor rise where it stood, +like a magical vision. Already are ponderous cases lying loaded, in +London, with massive mantle-pieces of the finest Italian marble, marble +busts, and heads of old Greek and Roman heroes, genuine burial-urns from +Herculaneum and Pompeii, and vessels of terra-cotta, +gloriously-sculptured vases, and even columns of verde antique--all from +classic Italy--to adorn the walls of this same noble new house. + +But, meantime, spite of the large income of Tom and Lady Barbara, the +old squire has strange suspicions of mortgages, and dealings with Jews. +He has actually inklings of horrid post-obits; and groans as he looks on +his old oaks, as he rides through his woods and parks, foreseeing their +overthrow; nay, he fancies he sees the land-agent among his quiet old +farmers, like a wild-cat in a rabbit warren, startling them out of their +long dream of ease and safety, with news of doubled rents, and notices +to quit, to make way for threshing-machines, winnowing-machines, +corn-crushers, patent ploughs, scufflers, scarifiers, and young men of +more enterprise. And, sure enough, such will be the order of the day the +moment the estate falls to the YOUNG SQUIRE.--_Country Year Book._ + + + + +[From Hogg's Instructor.] + +PRESENCE OF MIND--A FRAGMENT. + +BY THOMAS DE QUINCEY. + + +The Roman _formula_ for summoning an earnest concentration of the +faculties upon any object whatever, that happened to be critically +urgent, was _Hoc age_, "Mind _this_!" or, in other words, do not mind +_that_--_non illud age_. The antithetic formula was "_aliud_ agere," to +mind something alien, or remote from the interest then clamoring for +attention. Our modern military orders of "_Attention!_" and "_Eyes +strait!_" were both included in the "_Hoc age_." In the stern +peremptoriness of this Roman formula we read a picturesque expression of +the Roman character both as to its strength and its weakness--of the +energy which brooked no faltering or delay (for beyond all other races +the Roman was _natus rebus agendis_)--and also of the morbid craving for +action, which was intolerant of any thing but the intensely practical. + +In modern times, it is we of the Anglo-Saxon blood, that is, the British +and the Americans of the United States, who inherit the Roman +temperament with its vices and its fearful advantages of power. In the +ancient Roman these vices appeared more barbarously conspicuous. We, the +countrymen of Lord Bacon and Sir Isaac Newton, and at one time the +leaders of austere thinking, can not be supposed to shrink from the +speculative through any native incapacity for sounding its depths. But +the Roman had a real inaptitude for the speculative: to _him_ nothing +was real that was not practical. He had no metaphysics; he wanted the +metaphysical instinct. There was no school of _native_ Roman philosophy: +the Roman was merely an eclectic or _dilettanti_ picking up the crumbs +which fell from Grecian tables; and even mathematics was so repulsive in +its sublimer aspects to the Roman mind, that the very word mathematics +had in Rome collapsed into another name for the dotages of astrology. +The mathematician was a mere variety of expression for the wizard or the +conjurer. + +From this unfavorable aspect of the Roman intellect it is but justice +that we should turn away to contemplate those situations in which that +same intellect showed itself preternaturally strong. To face a sudden +danger by a corresponding weight of sudden counsel or sudden +evasion--_that_ was a privilege essentially lodged in the Roman mind. +But in every nation some minds much more than others are representative +of the national type: they are normal minds, reflecting, as in a focus, +the characteristics of the race. Thus Louis XIV. has been held to be the +idealized expression of the French character; and among the Romans there +can not be a doubt that the first Caesar offers in a rare perfection the +revelation of that peculiar grandeur which belonged to the children of +Romulus. + +What _was_ that grandeur? We do not need, in this place, to attempt its +analysis. One feature will suffice for our purpose. The late celebrated +John Foster, in his essay on decision of character, among the accidents +of life which might serve to strengthen the natural tendencies to such a +character, or to promote its development, rightly insists on +_desertion_. To find itself in solitude, and still more to find itself +thrown upon that state of abandonment by sudden treachery, crushes the +feeble mind, but rouses a terrific reaction of haughty self-assertion in +that order of spirits which matches and measures itself against +difficulty and danger. There is something corresponding to this case of +human treachery in the sudden caprices of fortune. A danger, offering +itself unexpectedly in some momentary change of blind external agencies, +assumes to the feelings the character of a perfidy accomplished by +mysterious powers, and calls forth something of the same resentment, and +in a gladiatorial intellect something of the same spontaneous +resistance. A sword that breaks in the very crisis of a duel, a horse +killed by a flash of lightning in the moment of collision with the +enemy, a bridge carried away by an avalanche at the instant of a +commencing retreat, affect the feelings like dramatic incidents +emanating from a human will. This man they confound and paralyze, that +man they rouse into resistance, as by a personal provocation and insult. +And if it happens that these opposite effects show themselves in cases +wearing a national importance, they raise what would else have been a +mere casualty into the tragic or the epic grandeur of a fatality. The +superb character, for instance, of Caesar's intellect throws a colossal +shadow as of predestination over the most trivial incidents of his +career. On the morning of Pharsalia, every man who reads a record of +that mighty event feels[D] by a secret instinct that an earthquake is +approaching which must determine the final distribution of the ground, +and the relations among the whole family of man through a thousand +generations. Precisely the inverse case is realized in some modern +sections of history, where the feebleness or the inertia of the +presiding intellect communicates a character of triviality to events +that otherwise are of paramount historical importance. In Caesar's case, +simply through the perfection of his preparations arrayed against all +conceivable contingencies, there is an impression left as of some +incarnate Providence, vailed in a human form, ranging through the ranks +of the legions; while, on the contrary, in the modern cases to which we +allude, a mission, seemingly authorized by inspiration, is suddenly +quenched, like a torch falling into water, by the careless character of +the superintending intellect. Neither case is without its appropriate +interest. The spectacle of a vast historical dependency, pre-organized +by an intellect of unusual grandeur, wears the grace of congruity and +reciprocal proportion. And on the other hand, a series of mighty events +contingent upon the motion this way or that of a frivolous hand, or +suspended on the breath of caprice, suggests the wild and fantastic +disproportions of ordinary life, when the mighty masquerade moves on +forever through successions of the gay and the solemn--of the petty and +the majestic. + +Caesar's cast of character owed its impressiveness to the combination +which it offered of moral grandeur and monumental immobility, such as we +see in Marius, with the dazzling intellectual versatility found in the +Gracchi, in Sylla, in Catiline, in Antony. The comprehension and the +absolute perfection of his prescience did not escape the eye of Lucan, +who describes him as--"Nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum." +A fine lambent gleam of his character escapes also in that magnificent +fraction of a line, where he is described as one incapable of learning +the style and sentiments suited to a private interest--"Indocilis +privata loqui." + +There has been a disposition manifested among modern writers to disturb +the traditional characters of Caesar and his chief antagonist. +Audaciously to disparage Caesar, and without a shadow of any new historic +grounds to exalt his feeble competitor, has been adopted as the best +chance for filling up the mighty gulf between them. Lord Brougham, for +instance, on occasion of a dinner given by the Cinque Ports at Dover to +the Duke of Wellington, vainly attempted to raise our countryman by +unfounded and romantic depreciations of Caesar. He alleged that Caesar had +contended only with barbarians. Now, _that_ happens to be the literal +truth as regards Pompey. The victories on which his early reputation was +built were won from semi-barbarians--luxurious, it is true, but also +effeminate in a degree never suspected at Rome until the next +generation. The slight but summary contest of Caesar with Pharnaces, the +son of Mithridates, dissipated at once the cloud of ignorance in which +Rome had been involved on this subject by the vast distance and the +total want of familiarity with Oriental habits. But Caesar's chief +antagonists, those whom Lord Brougham specially indicated, viz., the +Gauls, were _not_ barbarians. As a military people, they were in a stage +of civilization next to that of the Romans. They were quite as much +_aguerris_, hardened and seasoned to war, as the children of Rome. In +certain military habits they were even superior. For purposes of war +four races were then pre-eminent in Europe--viz., the Romans, the +Macedonians, certain select tribes among the mixed population of the +Spanish peninsula, and finally the Gauls. These were all open to the +recruiting parties of Caesar; and among them all he had deliberately +assigned his preference to the Gauls. The famous legion, who carried the +_Alauda_ (the lark) upon their helmets, was raised in Gaul from Caesar's +private funds. They composed a select and favored division in his army, +and, together with the famous tenth legion, constituted a third part of +his forces--a third numerically on the day of battle, but virtually a +half. Even the rest of Caesar's army had been for so long a space +recruited in the Gauls, Transalpine as well as Cisalpine, that at +Pharsalia the bulk of his forces is known to have been Gaulish. There +were more reasons than one for concealing that fact. The policy of Caesar +was, to conceal it not less from Rome than from the army itself. But the +truth became known at last to all wary observers. Lord Brougham's +objection to the quality of Caesar's enemies falls away at once when it +is collated with the deliberate composition of Caesar's own army. Besides +that, Caesar's enemies were _not_ in any exclusive sense Gauls. The +German tribes, the Spanish, the Helvetian, the Illyrian, Africans of +every race, and Moors; the islanders of the Mediterranean, and the mixed +populations of Asia, had all been faced by Caesar. And if it is alleged +that the forces of Pompey, however superior in numbers, were at +Pharsalia largely composed of an Asiatic rabble, the answer is--that +precisely of such a rabble were the hostile armies composed from which +he had won his laurels. False and windy reputations are sown thickly in +history; but never was there a reputation more thoroughly histrionic +than that of Pompey. The late Dr. Arnold of Rugby, among a million of +other crotchets, did (it is true) make a pet of Pompey; and he was +encouraged in this caprice (which had for its origin the doctor's +_political_[E] animosity to Caesar) by one military critic, viz., Sir +William Napier. This distinguished soldier conveyed messages to Dr. +Arnold, warning him against the popular notion, that Pompey was a poor +strategist. Now, had there been any Roman state-paper office, which Sir +William could be supposed to have searched and weighed against the +statements of surviving history, we might, in deference to Sir William's +great experience and talents, have consented to a rehearing of the case. +Unfortunately, no new materials have been discovered; nor is it alleged +that the old ones are capable of being thrown into new combinations, so +as to reverse or to suspend the old adjudications. The judgment of +history stands; and among the records which it involves, none is more +striking than this--that, while Caesar and Pompey were equally assaulted +by sudden surprises, the first invariably met the sudden danger (sudden +but never unlooked-for) by counter resources of evasion. He showed a new +front, as often as his situation exposed a new peril. At Pharsalia, +where the cavalry of Pompey was far superior to his own, he anticipated +and was in full readiness for the particular man[oe]uvre by which it was +attempted to make this superiority available against himself. By a new +formation of his troops he foiled the attack, and caused it to recoil +upon the enemy. Had Pompey then no rejoinder ready for meeting this +reply? No. His one arrow being shot, his quiver was exhausted. Without +an effort at parrying any longer, the mighty game was surrendered as +desperate. "Check to the king!" was heard in silent submission; and no +further stratagem was invoked even in silent prayer, but the stratagem +of flight. Yet Caesar himself, objects a celebrated doctor (viz., Bishop +Warburton), was reduced by his own rashness at Alexandria to a condition +of peril and embarrassment not less alarming than the condition of +Pompey at Pharsalia. How far this surprise might be reconcilable with +Caesar's military credit, is a question yet undecided; but this at least +is certain, that he was equal to the occasion; and, if the surprise was +all but fatal, the evasion was all but miraculous. Many were the sudden +surprises which Caesar had to face before and after this--on the shores +of Britain, at Marseilles, at Munda, at Thapsus--from all of which he +issued triumphantly, failing only as to that final one from which he had +in pure nobility of heart announced his determination to shelter himself +under no precautions. + +Such eases of personal danger and escape are exciting to the +imagination, from the disproportion between the interests of an +individual and the interests of a whole nation which for the moment +happen to be concurrent. The death or the escape of Caesar, at one +moment, rather than another, would make a difference in the destiny of +many nations. And in kind, though not in degree, the same interest has +frequently attached to the fortunes of a prince or military leader. +Effectually the same dramatic character belongs to any struggle with +sudden danger, though not (like Caesar's) successful. That it was _not_ +successful becomes a new reason for pursuing it with interest; since +equally in that result, as in one more triumphant, we read the altered +course by which history is henceforward destined to flow. + +For instance, how much depended--what a weight of history hung in +suspense, upon the evasions, or attempts at evasion, of Charles I. He +was a prince of great ability; and yet it confounds us to observe, with +how little of foresight, or of circumstantial inquiry, either as +regarded things or persons, he entered upon these difficult enterprises +of escape from the vigilance of military guardians. His first escape, +viz., that into the Scottish camp before Newark, was not surrounded with +any circumstances of difficulty. His second escape from Hampton Court +had become a matter of more urgent policy, and was proportionally more +difficult of execution. He was attended on that occasion by two +gentlemen (Berkely and Ashburnham), upon whose qualities of courage and +readiness, and upon whose acquaintance with the accidents, local or +personal, that surrounded their path, all was staked. Yet one of these +gentlemen was always suspected of treachery, and both were imbecile as +regarded that sort of wisdom on which it was possible for a royal person +to rely. Had the questions likely to arise been such as belong to a +masquerading adventure, these gentlemen might have been qualified for +the situation. As it was, they sank in mere distraction under the +responsibilities of the occasion. The king was as yet in safety. At Lord +Southampton's country mansion, he enjoyed the protection of a loyal +family ready to face any risk in his behalf; and his retreat was +entirely concealed. Suddenly this scene changes. The military commander +in the Isle of Wight is acquainted with the king's situation, and +brought into his presence, together with a military guard, though no +effort had been made to exact securities from his honor in behalf of the +king. His single object was evidently to arrest the king. His military +honor, his duty to the parliament, his private interest, all pointed to +the same result, viz., the immediate apprehension of the fugitive +prince. What was there in the opposite scale to set against these +notorious motives? Simply the fact that he was nephew to the king's +favorite chaplain, Dr. Hammond. What rational man, in a case of that +nature, would have relied upon so poor a trifle? Yet even this +inconsiderable bias was much more than balanced by another of the same +kind but in the opposite direction. Colonel Hammond was nephew to the +king's chaplain, but in the meantime he was the husband of Cromwell's +niece; and upon Cromwell privately, and the whole faction of the +Independents politically, he relied for all his hopes of advancement. +The result was, that, from mere inertia of mind and criminal negligence +in his two attendants, the poor king had run right into the custody of +the very jailer whom his enemies would have selected by preference. + +Thus, then, from fear of being made a prisoner Charles had quietly +walked into the military prison of Carisbrook Castle. The very security +of this prison, however, might throw the governor off his guard. Another +escape might be possible; and again an escape was arranged. It reads +like some leaf torn from the records of a lunatic hospital, to hear its +circumstances and the particular point upon which it split. Charles was +to make his exit through a window. This window, however, was fenced by +iron bars; and these bars had been to a certain extent eaten through +with _aqua fortis_. The king had succeeded in pushing his head through, +and upon that result he relied for his escape; for he connected this +trial with the following strange maxim or postulate, viz., that +wheresoever the head could pass, there the whole person could pass. It +needs not to be said, that, in the final experiment, this absurd rule +was found not to hold good. The king stuck fast about the chest and +shoulders, and was extricated with some difficulty. Had it even been +otherwise, the attempt would have failed; for, on looking down from +amidst the iron bars, the king beheld, in the imperfect light, a number +of people who were not among his accomplices. + +Equal in fatuity, almost 150 years later, were the several attempts at +escape concerted on behalf of the French royal family. The abortive +escape to Varennes is now familiarly known to all the world, and +impeaches the good sense of the king himself not less than of his +friends. The arrangements for the falling in with the cavalry escort +could not have been worse managed had they been intrusted to children. +But even the general outline of the scheme, an escape in a collective +family party--father, mother, children, and servants--and the king +himself, whose features were known to millions, not even withdrawing +himself from the public gaze at the stations for changing horses--all +this is calculated to perplex and sadden the pitying reader with the +idea that some supernatural infatuation had bewildered the predestined +victims. Meantime an earlier escape than this to Varennes had been +planned, viz., to Brussels. The preparations for this, which have been +narrated by Madame de Campan, were conducted with a disregard of +concealment even more astounding to people of ordinary good sense. "Do +you really need to escape at all?" would have been the question of many +a lunatic; "if you do, surely you need also to disguise your +preparations for escape." + +But alike the madness, or the providential wisdom, of such attempts +commands our profoundest interest; alike--whether conducted by a Caesar +or by the helpless members of families utterly unfitted to act +independently for themselves. These attempts belong to history, and it +is in that relation that they become philosophically so impressive. +Generations through an infinite series are contemplated by us as +silently awaiting the turning of a sentinel round a corner, or the +casual echo of a footstep. Dynasties have trepidated on the chances of a +sudden cry from an infant carried in a basket; and the safety of empires +has been suspended, like the descent of an avalanche, upon the moment +earlier or the moment later of a cough or a sneeze. And, high above all, +ascends solemnly the philosophic truth, that the least things and the +greatest are bound together as elements equally essential of the +mysterious universe. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[D] "Feels by a secret instinct;"--A sentiment of this nature is finely +expressed by Lucan in the passage beginning, "Advenisse diem," &c. The +circumstance by which Lucan chiefly defeats the grandeur and +simplicities of the truth, is, the monstrous numerical exaggeration of +the combatants and the killed at Pharsalia. + +[E] It is very evident that Dr. Arnold could not have understood the +position of politics in Rome, when he allowed himself to make a favorite +of Pompey. The doctor hated aristocrats as he hated the gates of Erebus. +Now Pompey was not only the leader of a most selfish aristocracy, but +also their tool. Secondly, as if this were not bad enough, that section +of the aristocracy to which he had dedicated his services was an odious +oligarchy; and to this oligarchy, again, though nominally its head, he +was in effect the most submissive of tools. Caesar, on the other hand, if +a democrat in the sense of working by democratic agencies, was bending +all his efforts to the reconstruction of a new, purer, and enlarged +aristocracy, no longer reduced to the necessity of buying and selling +the people in mere self-defense. The everlasting war of bribery, +operating upon universal poverty, the internal disease of Roman society, +would have been redressed by Caesar's measures, and _was_ redressed +according to the degree in which those measures were really brought into +action. New judicatures were wanted, new judicial laws, a new +aristocracy, by slow degrees a new people, and the right of suffrage +exercised within new restrictions--all these things were needed for the +cleansing of Rome; and that Caesar would have accomplished this labor of +Hercules was the true cause of his death. The scoundrels of the +oligarchy felt their doom to be approaching. It was the just remark of +Napoleon, that Brutus (but still more, we may say, Cicero), though +falsely accredited as a patriot, was, in fact, the most exclusive and +the most selfish of aristocrats. + + + + +[From Cumming's Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +FEARFUL TRAGEDY--A MAN-EATING LION. + + +On the 29th we arrived at a small village of Bakalahari. These natives +told me that elephants were abundant on the opposite side of the river. +I accordingly resolved to halt here and hunt, and drew my wagons up on +the river's bank, within thirty yards of the water, and about one +hundred yards from the native village. Having outspanned, we at once set +about making for the cattle a kraal of the worst description of +thorn-trees. Of this I had now become very particular, since my severe +loss by lions on the first of this month; and my cattle were, at night, +secured by a strong kraal, which inclosed my two wagons, the horses +being made fast to a trek-tow stretched between the hind wheels of the +wagons. I had yet, however, a fearful lesson to learn as to the nature +and character of the lion, of which I had at one time entertained so +little fear; and on this night a horrible tragedy was to be acted in my +little lonely camp of so very awful and appalling a nature as to make +the blood curdle in our veins. I worked till near sundown at one side of +the kraal with Hendric, my first wagon-driver--I cutting down the trees +with my ax, and he dragging them to the kraal. When the kraal for the +cattle was finished, I turned my attention to making a pot of +barley-broth, and lighted a fire between the wagons and the water, close +on the river's bank, under a dense grove of shady trees, making no sort +of kraal around our sitting-place for the evening. + +The Hottentots, without any reason, made their fire about fifty yards +from mine; they, according to their usual custom, being satisfied with +the shelter of a large dense bush. The evening passed away cheerfully. +Soon after it was dark we heard elephants breaking the trees in the +forest across the river, and once or twice I strode away into the +darkness some distance from the fireside to stand and listen to them. I +little, at that moment, deemed of the imminent peril to which I was +exposing my life, nor thought that a bloodthirsty man-eater lion was +crouching near, and only watching his opportunity to spring into the +kraal, and consign one of us to a most horrible death. About three hours +after the sun went down I called to my men to come and take their coffee +and supper, which was ready for them at my fire; and after supper three +of them returned before their comrades to their own fireside, and lay +down; these were John Stofolus, Hendric, and Ruyter. In a few minutes an +ox came out by the gate of the kraal and walked round the back of it. +Hendric got up and drove him in again, and then went back to his +fireside and lay down. Hendric and Ruyter lay on one side of the fire +under one blanket, and John Stofolus lay on the other. At this moment I +was sitting taking some barley-broth; our fire was very small, and the +night was pitch-dark and windy. Owing to our proximity to the native +village the wood was very scarce, the Bakalahari having burned it all in +their fires. + +Suddenly the appalling and murderous voice of an angry, bloodthirsty +lion burst upon my ear within a few yards of us, followed by the +shrieking of the Hottentots. Again and again the murderous roar of +attack was repeated. We heard John and Ruyter shriek "The lion! the +lion!" still, for a few moments, we thought he was but chasing one of +the dogs round the kraal; but, next instant, John Stofolus rushed into +the midst of us almost speechless with fear and terror, his eyes +bursting from their sockets, and shrieked out, "The lion! the lion! He +has got Hendric; he dragged him away from the fire beside me. I struck +him with the burning brands upon his head, but he would not let go his +hold. Hendric is dead! Oh God! Hendric is dead! Let us take fire and +seek him." The rest of my people rushed about, shrieking and yelling as +if they were mad. I was at once angry with them for their folly, and +told them that if they did not stand still and keep quiet the lion would +have another of us; and that very likely there was a troop of them. I +ordered the dogs, which were nearly all fast, to be made loose, and the +fire to be increased as far as could be. I then shouted Hendric's name, +but all was still. I told my men that Hendric was dead, and that a +regiment of soldiers could not now help him, and, hunting my dogs +forward, I had every thing brought within the cattle-kraal, when we +lighted our fire and closed the entrance as well as we could. + +My terrified people sat round the fire with guns in their hands till the +day broke, still fancying that every moment the lion would return and +spring again into the midst of us. When the dogs were first let go, the +stupid brutes, as dogs often prove when most required, instead of going +at the lion, rushed fiercely on one another, and fought desperately for +some minutes. After this they got his wind, and, going at him, disclosed +to us his position: they kept up a continued barking until the day +dawned, the lion occasionally springing after them and driving them in +upon the kraal. The horrible monster lay all night within forty yards of +us, consuming the wretched man whom he had chosen for his prey. He had +dragged him into a little hollow at the back of the thick bush beside +which the fire was kindled, and there he remained till the day dawned, +careless of our proximity. + +It appeared that when the unfortunate Hendric rose to drive in the ox, +the lion had watched him to his fireside, and he had scarcely laid down +when the brute sprang upon him and Ruyter (for both lay under one +blanket), with his appalling, murderous roar, and, roaring as he lay, +grappled him with his fearful claws, and kept biting him on the breast +and shoulder, all the while feeling for his neck; having got hold of +which, he at once dragged him away backward round the bush into the +dense shade. + +As the lion lay upon the unfortunate man, he faintly cried, "Help me, +help me! Oh God! men, help me!" After which the fearful beast got a hold +of his neck, and then all was still, except that his comrades heard the +bones of his neck cracking between the teeth of the lion. John Stofolus +had lain with his back to the fire on the opposite side, and on hearing +the lion he sprang up, and, seizing a large flaming brand, had belabored +him on the head with the burning wood; but the brute did not take any +notice of him. The Bushman had a narrow escape; he was not altogether +scatheless, the lion having inflicted two gashes in his seat with his +claws. + +The next morning, just as the day began to dawn, we heard the lion +dragging something up the river side, under cover of the bank. We drove +the cattle out of the kraal, and then proceeded to inspect the scene of +the night's awful tragedy. In the hollow, where the lion had lain +consuming his prey, we found one leg of the unfortunate Hendric, bitten +off below the knee, the shoe still on his foot; the grass and bushes +were all stained with his blood, and fragments of his pea-coat lay +around. Poor Hendric! I knew the fragments of that old coat, and had +often marked them hanging in the dense covers where the elephant had +charged after my unfortunate after-rider. Hendric was by far the best +man I had about my wagons, of a most cheerful disposition, a first-rate +wagon-driver, fearless in the field, ever active, willing, and obliging: +his loss to us all was very serious. I felt confounded and utterly sick +in my heart; I could not remain at the wagons, so I resolved to go after +elephants to divert my mind. I had that morning heard them breaking the +trees on the opposite side of the river. I accordingly told the natives +of the village of my intentions, and having ordered my people to devote +the day to fortifying the kraal, started with Piet and Ruyter as my +after-riders. It was a very cool day. We crossed the river, and at once +took up the fresh spoor of a troop of bull elephants. These bulls +unfortunately joined a troop of cows, and when we came on them the dogs +attacked the cows, and the bulls were off in a moment, before we could +even see them. One remarkably fine old cow charged the dogs. I hunted +this cow, and finished her with two shots from the saddle. Being anxious +to return to my people before night, I did not attempt to follow the +troop. My followers were not a little gratified to see me returning, for +terror had taken hold of their minds, and they expected that the lion +would return, and, emboldened by the success of the preceding night, +would prove still more daring in his attack. The lion would most +certainly have returned, but fate had otherwise ordained. My health had +been better in the last three days: my fever was leaving me, but I was, +of course, still very weak. It would still be two hours before the sun +would set, and, feeling refreshed by a little rest, and able for further +work, I ordered the steeds to be saddled, and went in search of the +lion. + +I took John and Carey as after-riders, armed, and a party of the natives +followed up the spoor and led the dogs. The lion had dragged the remains +of poor Hendric along a native foot-path that led up the river side. We +found fragments of his coat all along the spoor, and at last the mangled +coat itself. About six hundred yards from our camp a dry river's course +joined the Limpopo. At this spot was much shade, cover, and heaps of dry +reeds and trees deposited by the Limpopo in some great flood. The lion +had left the foot-path and entered this secluded spot. I at once felt +convinced that we were upon him, and ordered the natives to make loose +the dogs. These walked suspiciously forward on the spoor, and next +minute began to spring about, barking angrily, with all their hair +bristling on their backs: a crash upon the dry reeds immediately +followed--it was the lion bounding away. + +Several of the dogs were extremely afraid of him, and kept rushing +continually backward and springing aloft to obtain a view. I now pressed +forward and urged them on; old Argyll and Bles took up his spoor in +gallant style, and led on the other dogs. Then commenced a short but +lively and glorious chase, whose conclusion was the only small +satisfaction that I could obtain to answer for the horrors of the +preceding evening. The lion held up the river's bank for a short +distance, and took away through some wait-a-bit thorn cover, the best he +could find, but nevertheless open. Here, in two minutes, the dogs were +up with him, and he turned and stood at bay. As I approached, he stood, +his horrid head right to me, with open jaws, growling fiercely, his tail +waving from side to side. + +On beholding him my blood boiled with rage. I wished that I could take +him alive and torture him, and, setting my teeth, I dashed my steed +forward within thirty yards of him and shouted, "_Your_ time is up, old +fellow." I halted my horse, and, placing my rifle to my shoulder, waited +for a broadside. This the next moment he exposed, when I sent a bullet +through his shoulder and dropped him on the spot. He rose, however, +again, when I finished him with a second in the breast. The Bakalahari +now came up in wonder and delight. I ordered John to cut off his head +and forepaws and bring them to the wagons, and, mounting my horse, +galloped home, having been absent about fifteen minutes. When the +Bakalahari women heard that the man-eater was dead, they all commenced +dancing about with joy, calling me _their father_. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE HAUNTED HOUSE IN CHARNWOOD FOREST. + + +One fine, blustering, autumn day, a quiet and venerable-looking old +gentleman might be seen, with stick in hand, taking his way through the +streets of Leicester. If any one had followed him, they would have +found him directing his steps toward that side of the town which leads +to Charnwood. The old gentleman, who was a Quaker, took his way +leisurely, but thoughtfully, stopping every now and then to see what the +farmers' men were about, who were plowing up the stubbles to prepare for +another year's crop. He paused, also, at this and that farm-house, +evidently having a pleasure in the sight of good fat cattle, and in the +flocks of poultry--fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys, busy about the +barn-door, where the sound of the flail, or the swipple, as they there +term it, was already heard busily knocking out the corn of the last +bountiful harvest. Our old friend--a Friend--for though you, dear +reader, do not know him, he was both at the time we speak of--our old +friend, again trudging on, would pause on the brow of a hill, at a +stile, or on some rustic bridge, casting its little obliging arch over a +brooklet, and inhale the fresh autumnal air; and after looking round +him, nod to himself, as if to say, "Ay, all good, all beautiful!" and so +he went on again. But it would not be long before he would be arrested +again by clusters of rich, jetty blackberries, hanging from some old +hawthorn hedge; or by clusters of nuts, hanging by the wayside, through +the copse. In all these natural beauties our old wayfarer seemed to have +the enjoyment of a child. Blackberries went into his mouth, and nuts +into his pockets; and so, with a quiet, inquiring, and thoughtful, yet +thoughtfully cheerful look, the good old man went on. + +He seemed bound for a long walk, and yet to be in no hurry. In one place +he stopped to talk to a very old laborer, who was clearing out a ditch; +and if you had been near, you would have heard that their discourse was +of the past days, and the changes in that part of the country, which the +old laborer thought were very much for the worse. And worse they were +for him: for formerly he was young and full of life; and now he was old +and nearly empty of life. Then he was buoyant, sang songs, made love, +went to wakes and merry-makings; now his wooing days, and his marrying +days, and his married days were over. His good old dame, who in those +young, buxom days was a round-faced, rosy, plump, and light-hearted +damsel, was dead, and his children were married, and had enough to do. +In those days, the poor fellow was strong and lusty, had no fear and no +care; in these, he was weak and tottering; had been pulled and harassed +a thousand ways; and was left, as he said, like an old dry kex--_i.e._ a +hemlock or cow-parsnip stalk, hollow and dry, to be knocked down and +trodden into the dust some day. + +Yes, sure enough, those past days _were_ much better days than these +days were to him. No comparison. But Mr. John Basford, our old wanderer, +was taking a more cheerful view of things, and telling the nearly +worn-out laborer, that when the night came there followed morning, and +that the next would be a heavenly morning, shining on hills of glory, +on waters of life, on cities of the blest, where no sun rose, and no sun +set; and where every joyful creature of joyful youth, who had been dear +to him, and true to him and God, would again meet him, and make times +such as should cause songs of praise to spring out of his heart, just as +flowers spring out of a vernal tree in the rekindled warmth of the sun. + +The old laborer leaned reverently on his spade as the worthy man talked +to him. His gray locks, uncovered at his labor by any hat, were tossed +in the autumn wind. His dim eye was fixed on the distant sky, that +rolled its dark masses of clouds on the gale, and the deep wrinkles of +his pale and feeble temples seemed to grow deeper at the thoughts +passing within him. He was listening as to a sermon, which brought +together his youth and his age; his past and his future; and there were +verified on that spot words which Jesus Christ spoke nearly two thousand +years ago--"Wherever two or three are met together in my name, there am +I in the midst of them." + +He was in the midst of the two only. There was a temple there in those +open fields, sanctified by two pious hearts, which no ringing of bells, +no sound of solemn organ, nor voice of congregated prayers, nor any +preacher but the ever-present and invisible One, who there and then +fulfilled His promise and was gracious, could have made more holy. + +Our old friend again turned to set forward; he shook the old laborer +kindly by the hand, and there was a gaze of astonishment in the old +man's face--the stranger had not only cheered him by his words, but left +something to cheer him when he was gone. + +The Friend now went on with a more determined step. He skirted the +memorable park of Bradgate, famous for the abode of Lady Jane Grey, and +the visit of her schoolmaster, Roger Ascham. He went on into a region of +woods and hills. At some seven or eight miles from Leicester, he drew +near a solitary farm-house, within the ancient limits of the forest of +Charnwood. It was certainly a lonely place amid the woodlands and the +wild autumn fields. Evening was fast dropping down; and as the shade of +night fell on the scene, the wind tossed more rushingly the boughs of +the thick trees, and roared down the rocky valley. John Basford went up +to the farm-house, however, as if that was the object of his journey, +and a woman opening it at his knock, he soon disappeared within. + +Now our old friend was a perfect stranger here; had never been here +before; had no acquaintance nor actual business with the inhabitants, +though any one watching his progress hither would have been quite +satisfied that he was not wandering without an object. But he merely +stated that he was somewhat fatigued with his walk from the town, and +requested leave to rest awhile. In such a place, such a request is +readily, and even gladly granted. + +There was a cheerful fire burning on a bright, clean hearth. The kettle +was singing on the hob for tea, and the contrast of the in-door comfort +was sensibly heightened by the wild gloom without. The farmer's wife, +who had admitted the stranger, soon went out, and called her husband +from the fold-yard. He was a plain, hearty sort of man; gave our friend +a hearty shake of the hand, sate down, and began to converse. A little +time seemed to establish a friendly interest between the stranger and +the farmer and his wife. John Basford asked whether they would allow him +to smoke a pipe, which was not only readily accorded, but the farmer +joined him. They smoked and talked alternately of the country and the +town, Leicester being the farmer's market, and as familiar to him as his +own neighborhood. He soon came to know, too, who his guest was, and +expressed much pleasure in the visit. Tea was carried into the parlor, +and thither they all adjourned, for now the farming men were coming into +the kitchen, where they sate for the evening. + +Tea over, the two gentlemen again had a pipe, and the conversation +wandered over a multitude of things and people known to both. + +But the night was come down pitch dark, wild, and windy, and old John +Basford had to return to Leicester. + +"To Leicester!" exclaimed at once man and wife; "to Leicester!" No such +thing. He must stay where he was--where could he be better? + +John Basford confessed that that was true; he had great pleasure in +conversing with them; but then, was it not an unwarrantable liberty to +come to a stranger's house, and make thus free? + +"Not in the least," the farmer replied; "the freer the better!" + +The matter thus was settled, and the evening wore on; but in the course +of the evening, the guest, whose simple manner, strong sense, and deeply +pious feeling, had made a most favorable impression on his entertainers, +hinted that he had heard some strange rumors regarding this house, and +that, in truth, had been the cause which had attracted him thither. He +had heard, in fact, that a particular chamber in this house was haunted; +and he had for a long time felt a growing desire to pass a night in it. +He now begged this favor might be granted him. + +As he had opened this subject, an evident cloud, and something of an +unpleasant surprise, had fallen on the countenances of both man and +wife. It deepened as he proceeded; the farmer had withdrawn his pipe +from his mouth, and laid it on the table; and the woman had risen, and +looked uneasily at their guest. The moment that he uttered the wish to +sleep in the haunted room, both exclaimed in the same instant against +it. + +"No, never!" they exclaimed; "never, on any consideration! They had made +a firm resolve on that point, which nothing would induce them to break +through." + +The guest expressed himself disappointed, but did not press the matter +further at the moment. He contented himself with turning the +conversation quietly upon this subject, and after a while found the +farmer and his wife confirm to him every thing that he had heard. Once +more then, and as incidentally, he expressed his regret that he could +not gratify the curiosity which had brought him so far; and, before the +time for retiring arrived, again ventured to express how much what he +had now heard had increased his previous desire to pass a night in that +room. He did not profess to believe himself invulnerable to fears of +such a kind, but was curious to convince himself of the actual existence +of spiritual agency of this character. + +The farmer and his wife steadily refused. They declared that others who +had come with the same wish, and had been allowed to gratify it, had +suffered such terrors as had made their after-lives miserable. The last +of these guests was a clergyman, who received such a fright that he +sprang from his bed at midnight, had descended, gone into the stable, +and saddling his horse, had ridden away at full speed. Those things had +caused them to refuse, and that firmly, any fresh experiment of the +kind. + +The spirit visitation was described to be generally this: At midnight, +the stranger sleeping in that room would hear the latch of the door +raised, and would in the dark perceive a light step enter, and, as with +a stealthy tread, cross the room, and approach the foot of the bed. The +curtains would be agitated, and something would be perceived mounted on +the bed, and proceeding up it, just upon the body of the person in it. +The supernatural visitant would then stretch itself full length on the +person of the agitated guest, and the next moment he would feel an +oppression at his chest, as of a nightmare, and something extremely cold +would touch his face. + +At this crisis, the terrified guest would usually utter a fearful +shriek, and often go into a swoon. The whole family would be roused from +their beds by the alarm; but on no occasion had any traces of the cause +of terror been found, though the house, on such occasions, had been +diligently and thoroughly searched. The annoying visit was described as +being by no means uniform. Sometimes it would not take place for a very +long time, so that they would begin to hope that there would be no more +of it; but it would, when least expected, occur again. Few people of +late years, however, had ventured to sleep in that room, and never since +the aforementioned clergyman was so terribly alarmed, about two years +ago, had it once been occupied. + +"Then," said John Basford, "it is probable that the annoyance is done +with forever. If the troublesome visitant was still occasionally present +it would, no doubt, take care to manifest itself in some mode or place. +It was necessary to test the matter to see whether this particular room +was still subject to so strange a phenomenon." + +This seemed to have an effect on the farmer and his wife. The old man +urged his suit all the more earnestly, and, after further show of +extreme reluctance on the part of his entertainers, finally prevailed. + +The consent once being given, the farmer's wife retired to make the +necessary arrangements. Our friend heard sundry goings to and fro; but +at length it was announced to him that all was ready; the farmer and his +wife both repeating that they would be much better pleased if Mr. +Basford would be pleased to sleep in some other room. The old man, +however, remained firm to his purpose; he was shown to his chamber, and +the maid who led the way stood at some distance from the denoted door, +and pointing to it, bade him good night, and hurried away. + +Mr. Basford found himself alone in the haunted room, he looked round and +discovered nothing that should make it differ from any other good and +comfortable chamber, or that should give to some invisible agent so +singular a propensity to disturb any innocent mortal that nocturnated in +it. Whether he felt any nervous terrors, we know not; but as he was come +to see all that would or could occur there, he kept himself most +vigilantly awake. He lay down in a very good feather bed, extinguished +his light, and waited in patience. Time and tide, as they will wait for +no man, went on. All sounds of life ceased in the house; nothing could +be heard but the rushing wind without, and the bark of the yard-dog +occasionally amid the laughing blast. Midnight came, and found John +Basford wide-awake and watchfully expectant. Nothing stirred, but he lay +still on the watch. At length--was it so? Did he hear a rustling +movement, as it were, near his door, or was it his excited fancy? He +raised his head from his pillow, and listened intensely. Hush! there is +something!--no!--it was his contagious mind ready to hear and see--what? +There was an actual sound of the latch! He could hear it raised! He +could not be mistaken. There was a sound as if his door was cautiously +opened. List! it was true. There were soft, stealthy footsteps on the +carpet; they came directly toward the bed; they paused at its foot; the +curtains were agitated; there were steps on the bed; something +crept--did not the heart and the very flesh of the rash old man now +creep too?--and upon him sank a palpable form, palpable from its +pressure, for the night was dark as an oven. There was a heavy weight on +his chest, and in the same instant something almost icy cold touched his +face. + +With a sudden, convulsive action, the old man suddenly flung up his +arms, clutched at the terrible object which thus oppressed him, and +shouted with a loud cry, + +"I have got him! I have got him!" + +There was a sound as of a deep growl, a vehement struggle, but John +Basford held fast his hold, and felt that he had something within it +huge, shaggy, and powerful. Once more he raised his voice loud enough to +have roused the whole house; but it seemed no voice of terror, but one +of triumph and satisfaction. In the next instant, the farmer rushed into +the room with a light in his hand, and revealed to John Basford that he +held in his arms the struggling form of a huge Newfoundland dog! + +"Let him go, sir, in God's name!" exclaimed the farmer, on whose brow +drops of real anguish stood, and glistened in the light of the candle. +"Down stairs, Caesar!" and the dog, released from the hold of the Quaker, +departed as if much ashamed. + +In the same instant, the farmer and his wife, who now also came in +dressed, and evidently never having been to bed, were on their knees by +the bedside. + +"You know it all, sir," said the farmer; "you see through it. You were +too deep and strong-minded to be imposed on. We were, therefore, afraid +of this when you asked to sleep in this room. Promise us now, that while +we live you will never reveal what you know?" + +They then related to him, that this house and chamber had never been +haunted by any other than this dog, which had been trained to play the +part. That, for generations, their family had lived on this farm; but +some years ago, their landlord having suddenly raised their rent to an +amount that they felt they could not give, they were compelled to think +of quitting the farm. This was to them an insuperable source of grief. +It was the place that all their lives and memories were bound up with. +They were extremely cast down. Suddenly it occurred to them to give an +ill name to the house. They hit on this scheme, and, having practiced it +well, did not long want an opportunity of trying it. It had succeeded +beyond their expectations. The fears of their guests were found to be of +a force which completely blinded them to any discovery of the truth. +There had been occasions where they thought some clumsy accident must +have stripped away the delusion; but no! there seemed a thick vail of +blindness, a fascination of terror cast over the strongest minds, which +nothing could pierce through. Case after case occurred; and the house +and farm acquired such a character, that no money or consideration of +any kind would have induced a fresh tenant to live there. The old +tenants continued at their old rent; and the comfortable ghost stretched +himself every night in a capacious kennel, without any need of +disturbing his slumbers by calls to disturb those of the guests of the +haunted chamber. + +Having made this revelation, the farmer and his wife again implored +their guest to preserve their secret. + +He hesitated. + +"Nay," said he, "I think it would not be right to do that. That would be +to make myself a party to a public deception. It would be a kind of +fraud on the world and the landlord. It would serve to keep up those +superstitious terrors which should be as speedily as possible +dissipated." + +The farmer was in agony. He rose and strode to and fro in the room. His +countenance grew red and wrathful. He cast dark glances at his guest, +whom his wife continued to implore, and who sate silent, and, as it +were, lost in reflection. + +"And do you think it a right thing, sir," said the farmer, "thus to +force yourself into a stranger's house and family, and, in spite of the +strongest wishes expressed to the contrary, into his very chambers, and +that only to do him a mischief? Is that your religion, sir? I thought +you had something better in you than that. Am I now to think your +mildness and piety were only so much hypocrisy put on to ruin me?" + +"Nay, friend, I don't want to ruin thee," said the Quaker. + +"But ruin me you will, though, if you publish this discovery. Out I must +turn, and be the laughing-stock of the whole country to boot. Now, if +that is what you mean, say so, and I shall know what sort of a man you +are. Let me know at once whether you are an honest man or a cockatrice?" + +"My friend," said the Quaker, "canst thou call thyself an honest man, in +practicing this deception for all these years, and depriving thy +landlord of the rent he would otherwise have got from another? And dost +thou think it would be honest in me to assist in the continuance of this +fraud?" + +"I rob the landlord of nothing," replied the farmer. "I pay a good, fair +rent; but I don't want to quit the old spot. And if you had not thrust +yourself into this affair, you would have had nothing to lay on your +conscience concerning it. I must, let me tell you, look on it as a piece +of unwarrantable impertinence to come thus to my house and be kindly +treated only to turn Judas against me." + +The word Judas seemed to hit the Friend a great blow. + +"A Judas!" + +"Yes--a Judas! a real Judas!" exclaimed the wife. "Who could have +thought it!" + +"Nay, nay," said the old man. "I am no Judas. It is true, I forced +myself into it; and if you pay the landlord an honest rent, why, I don't +know that it is any business of mine--at least while you live." + +"That is all we want," replied the farmer, his countenance changing, and +again flinging himself by his wife on his knees by the bed. "Promise us +never to reveal it while we live, and we shall be quite satisfied. We +have no children, and when we go, those may come to th' old spot who +will." + +"Promise me never to practice this trick again," said John Basford. + +"We promise faithfully," rejoined both farmer and wife. + +"Then I promise too," said the Friend, "that not a whisper of what has +passed here shall pass my lips during your lifetime." + +With warmest expressions of thanks, the farmer and his wife withdrew; +and John Basford, having cleared the chamber of its mystery, lay down +and passed one of the sweetest nights he ever enjoyed. + +The farmer and his wife lived a good many years after this, but they +both died before Mr. Basford; and after their death, he related to his +friends the facts which are here detailed. He, too, has passed, years +ago, to his longer night in the grave, and to the clearing up of greater +mysteries than that of--the Haunted House of Charnwood Forest. + + + + +[From Fraser's Magazine.] + +LEDRU ROLLIN--BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. + + +Ledru Rollin is now in his forty-fourth or forty-fifth year, having been +born in 1806 or 1807. He is the grandson of the famous _Prestidigateur_, +or Conjurer Comus, who, about four or five-and-forty years ago, was in +the acme of his fame. During the Consulate, and a considerable portion +of the Empire, Comus traveled from one department of France to the +other, and is even known to have extended his journeys beyond the Rhine +and the Moselle on one side, and beyond the Rhone and Garonne on the +other. Of all the conjurors of his day he was the most famous and the +most successful, always, of course, excepting that Corsican conjuror who +ruled for so many years the destinies of France. From those who have +seen that famous trickster, we have learned that the Charleses, the +Alexandres, even the Robert-Houdins, were children compared with the +magical wonder-worker of the past generation. The fame of Comus was +enormous, and his gains proportionate; and when he had shuffled off this +mortal coil it was found he had left to his descendants a very +ample--indeed, for France a very large fortune. Of the descendants in a +right line, his grandson, Ledru Rollin, was his favorite, and to him the +old man left the bulk of his fortune, which, during the minority of +Ledru Rollin, grew to a sum amounting to nearly, if not fully, L4000 per +annum of our money. + +The scholastic education of the young man who was to inherit this +considerable fortune, was nearly completed during the reign of Louis +XVIII., and shortly after Charles X. ascended the throne _il commencait +a faire sur droit_, as they phrase it in the _pays Latin_. Neither +during the reign of Louis XVIII., nor indeed now, unless in the exact +and physical sciences, does Paris afford a very solid and substantial +education. Though the Roman poets and historians are tolerably well +studied and taught, yet little attention is paid to Greek literature. +The physical and exact sciences are unquestionably admirably taught at +the Polytechnique and other schools; but neither at the College of St. +Barbe, nor of Henry IV., can a pupil be so well grounded in the +rudiments and humanities as in our grammar and public schools. A +studious, painstaking, and docile youth, will, no doubt, learn a great +deal, no matter where he has been placed in pupilage; but we have heard +from a contemporary of M. Rollin, that he was not particularly +distinguished either for his industry or his docility in early life. The +earliest days of the reign of Charles X. saw M. Ledru Rollin an +_etudiant en droit_ in Paris. Though the schools of law had been +re-established during the Consulate pretty much after the fashion in +which they existed in the time of Louis XIV., yet the application of the +_alumni_ was fitful and desultory, and perhaps there were no two classes +in France, at the commencement of 1825, who were more imbued with the +Voltarian philosophy, and the doctrines and principles of Rosseau, than +the _eleves_ of the schools of law and medicine. + +Under a king so skeptical and voluptuous, so much of a _philosophe_ and +_pyrrhoneste_, as Louis XVIII., such tendencies were likely to spread +themselves through all ranks of society--to permeate from the very +highest to the very lowest classes; and not all the lately acquired +asceticism of the monarch, his successor, nor all the efforts of the +Jesuits, could restrain or control the tendencies of the _etudiants en +droit_. What the law students were antecedently and subsequent to 1825, +we know from the _Physiologic de l'Homme de Loi_; and it is not to be +supposed that M. Ledru Rollin, with more ample pecuniary means at +command, very much differed from his fellows. After undergoing a three +years' course of study, M. Rollin obtained a diploma as a _licencie en +droit_, and commenced his career as _stagiare_ somewhere about the end +of 1826, or the beginning of 1827. Toward the close of 1829, or in the +first months of 1830, he was, we believe, placed on the roll of +advocates: so that he was called to the bar, or, as they say in France, +received an advocate, in his twenty-second or twenty-third year. + +The first years of an advocate, even in France, are generally passed in +as enforced an idleness as in England. Clients come not to consult the +greenhorn of the last term; nor does any _avoue_ among our neighbors, +any more than any attorney among ourselves, fancy that an old head is to +be found on young shoulders. The years 1830 and 1831 were not marked by +any oratorical effort of the author of the _Decline of England_; nor was +it till 1832 that, being then one of the youngest of the bar of Paris, +he prepared and signed an opinion against the placing of Paris in a +state of siege consequent on the insurrections of June. Two years after +he prepared a memoir, or _factum_, on the affair of the Rue Transonian, +and defended Dupoty, accused of _complicite morale_, a monstrous +doctrine, invented by the Attorney-general Hebert. From 1834 to 1841 he +appeared as counsel in nearly all the cases of _emeute_ or conspiracy +where the individuals prosecuted were Republicans or +_quasi_-Republicans. Meanwhile, he had become the proprietor and +_redacteur en chief_ of the _Reforme_ newspaper, a political journal of +an ultra-liberal--indeed, of a republican-complexion, which was then +called of extreme opinions, as he had previously been editor of a legal +newspaper called _Journal du Palais. La Reforme_ had been originally +conducted by Godefroy Cavaignac, the brother of the general, who +continued editor till the period of the fatal illness which preceded his +death. The defense of Dupoty, tried and sentenced under the ministry of +Thiers to five years' imprisonment, as a regicide, because a letter was +found open in the letter-box of the paper of which he was editor, +addressed to him by a man said to be implicated in the conspiracy of +Quenisset, naturally brought M. Rollin into contact with many of the +writers in _La Reforme_; and these persons, among others Guinard Arago, +Etienne Arago, and Flocon, induced him to embark some portion of his +fortune in the paper. From one step he was led on to another, and +ultimately became one of the chief, indeed, is not the chief proprietor. +The speculation was far from successful in a pecuniary sense; but M. +Rollin, in furtherance of his opinions, continued for some years to +disburse considerable sums in the support of the journal. By this he no +doubt increased his popularity and his credit with the republican party, +but it can not be denied that he very materially injured his private +fortune. In the earlier portion of his career M. Rollin was, it is +known, not indisposed to seek a seat in the chamber under the auspicies +of M. Barrot, but subsequently to his connection with the _Reforme_, he +had himself become thoroughly known to the extreme party in the +departments, and on the death of Garnier Pages the elder, was elected in +1841 for Le Mans, in the department of La Sarthe. + +In addressing the electors after his return, M. Rollin delivered a +speech much more republican than monarchical. For this he was sentenced +to four months' imprisonment, but the sentence was appealed against and +annulled on a technical ground, and the honorable member was ultimately +acquitted by the Cour d'Assizes of Angers. + +The parliamentary _debut_ of M. Rollin took place in 1842. His first +speech was delivered on the subject of the secret-service money. The +elocution was easy and flowing, the manner oratorical, the style +somewhat turgid and bombastic. But in the course of the session M. +Rollin improved, and his discourse on the modification of the criminal +law, on other legal subjects, and on railways, were more sober specimens +of style. In 1843 and 1844 M. Rollin frequently spoke; but though his +speeches were a good deal talked of outside the walls of the chamber, +they produced little effect within it. Nevertheless, it was plain to +every candid observer that he possessed many of the requisites of the +orator--a good voice, a copious flow of words, considerable energy and +enthusiasm, a sanguine temperament and jovial and generous disposition. +In the sessions of 1845-46, M. Rollin took a still more prominent part. +His purse, his house in the Rue Tournon, his counsels and advice, were +all placed at the service of the men of the movement, and by the +beginning of 1847 he seemed to be acknowledged by the extreme party as +its most conspicuous and popular member. Such, indeed, was his position +when the electoral reform banquets, on a large scale, began to take +place in the autumn of 1847. These banquets, promoted and forwarded by +the principal members of the opposition to serve the cause of electoral +reform, were looked on by M. Rollin and his friends in another light. +While Odillon Barrot, Duvergier d'Hauranne, and others, sought by means +of them to produce an enlarged constituency, the member for Sarthe +looked not merely to functional, but to organic reform--not merely to an +enlargement of the constituency, but to a change in the form of the +government. The desire of Barrot was _a la verite, a la sincerite des +institutions conquises en Julliet 1830_; whereas the desire of Rollin +was, _a l'amelioration des classes laborieuses_: the one was willing to +go on with the dynasty of Louis Philippe and the Constitution of July +improved by diffusion and extension of the franchise, the other looked +to a democratic and social republic. The result is now known. It is not +here our purpose to go over the events of the Revolution of February, +1848, but we may be permitted to observe, that the combinations by which +that event was effected were ramified and extensive, and were long +silently and secretly in motion. + +The personal history of Ledru Rollin, since February, 1848, is well +known and patent to all the world. He was the _ame damnee_ of the +Provisional Government--the man whose extreme opinions, intemperate +circulars, and vehement patronage of persons professing the political +creed of Robespierre--indisposed all moderate men to rally around the +new system. It was in covering Ledru Rollin with the shield of his +popularity that Lamartine lost his own, and that he ceased to be the +political idol of a people of whom he must ever be regarded as one of +the literary glories and illustrations. On the dissolution of the +Provisional Government, Ledru Rollin constituted himself one of the +leaders of the movement party. In ready powers of speech and in +popularity no man stood higher; but he did not possess the power of +restraining his followers or of holding them in hand, and the result +was, that instead of being their leader he became their instrument. Fond +of applause, ambitious of distinction, timid by nature, destitute of +pluck, and of that rarer virtue moral courage, Ledru Rollin, to avoid +the imputation of faint-heartedness, put himself in the foreground, but +the measures of his followers being ill-taken, the plot in which he was +mixed up egregiously failed, and he is now in consequence an exile in +England. + + + + +[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] + +A CHIP FROM A SAILOR'S LOG. + + +It was a dead calm--not a breath of air--the sails flapped idly against +the masts; the helm had lost its power, and the ship turned her head how +and where she liked. The heat was intense, so much so, that the chief +mate had told the boatswain to keep the watch out of the sun; but the +watch below found it too warm to sleep, and were tormented with thirst, +which they could not gratify till the water was served out. They had +drunk all the previous day's allowance; and now that their scuttle but +was dry, there was nothing left for them but endurance. Some of the +seamen had congregated on the top-gallant forecastle, where they gazed +on the clear blue water with longing eyes. + +"How cool and clear it looks," said a tall, powerful young seaman; "I +don't think there are many sharks about: what do you say for a bath, +lads?" + +"That for the sharks!" burst almost simultaneously from the parched lips +of the group: "we'll have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in +to dinner." In about half an hour the dinner-bell rang. The boatswain +took charge of the deck; some twenty sailors were now stripped, except a +pair of light duck trowsers; among the rest was a tall, powerful, +coast-of-Africa nigger of the name of Leigh: they used to joke him, and +call him Sambo. + +"You no swim to-day, Ned?" said he, addressing me. "Feared of shark, +heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after +him--him run like debbel." I was tempted, and, like the rest, was soon +ready. In quick succession we jumped off the spritsail yard, the black +leading. We had scarcely been in the water five minutes, when some voice +in-board cried out, "A shark! a shark!" In an instant every one of the +swimmers came tumbling up the ship's sides, half mad with fright, the +gallant black among the rest. It was a false alarm. We felt angry with +ourselves for being frightened, angry with those who had frightened us, +and furious with those who had laughed at us. In another moment we were +all again in the water, the black and myself swimming some distance from +the ship. For two successive voyages there had been a sort of rivalry +between us: each fancied that he was the best swimmer, and we were now +testing our speed. + +"Well done, Ned!" cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. "Go it, +Sambo!" cried some others. We were both straining our utmost, excited by +the cheers of our respective partisans. Suddenly the voice of the +boatswain was heard shouting, "A shark! a shark! Come back for God's +sake!" + +"Lay aft, and lower the cutter down," then came faintly on our ear. The +race instantly ceased. As yet, we only half believed what we heard, our +recent fright being still fresh in our memories. + +"Swim, for God's sake!" cried the captain, who was now on deck; "he has +not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him. +Strike out, lads, for God's sake!" My heart stood still: I felt weaker +than a child as I gazed with horror at the dorsal fin of a large shark +on the starboard quarter. Though in the water, the perspiration dropped +from me like rain: the black was striking out like mad for the ship. + +"Swim, Ned--swim!" cried several voices; "they never take black when +they can get white." + +I did swim, and that desperately: the water foamed past me. I soon +breasted the black, but could not head him. We both strained every nerve +to be first, for we each fancied the last man would be taken. Yet we +scarcely seemed to move: the ship appeared as far as ever from us. We +were both powerful swimmers, and both of us swam in the French way +called _la brasse_, or hand over hand, in English. There was something +the matter with the boat's falls, and they could not lower her. + +"He sees you now!" was shouted; "he is after you!" Oh the agony of that +moment! I thought of every thing at the same instant, at least so it +seemed to me then. Scenes long forgotten rushed through my brain with +the rapidity of lightning, yet in the midst of this I was striking out +madly for the ship. Each moment I fancied I could feel the pilot-fish +touching me, and I almost screamed with agony. We were now not ten yards +from the ship: fifty ropes were thrown to us; but, as if by mutual +instinct, we swam for the same. + +"Hurra! they are saved!--they are alongside!" was shouted by the eager +crew. We both grasped the rope at the same time: a slight struggle +ensued: I had the highest hold. Regardless of every thing but my own +safety, I placed my feet on the black's shoulders, scrambled up the +side, and fell exhausted on the deck. The negro followed roaring with +pain, for the shark had taken away part of his heel. Since then, I have +never bathed at sea; nor, I believe, has Sambo been ever heard again to +assert that he would swim after a shark if he met one in the water. + + + + +[From Howitt's Country Year-Book.] + +THE TWO THOMPSONS. + + +By the wayside, not far from the town of Mansfield--on a high and heathy +ground, which gives a far-off view of the minster of Lincoln--you may +behold a little clump of trees, encircled by a wall. That is called +THOMPSON'S GRAVE. But who is this Thompson; and why lies he so far from +his fellows? In ground unconsecrated; in the desert, or on the verge of +it--for cultivation now approaches it? The poor man and his wants spread +themselves, and corn and potatoes crowd upon Thompson's grave. But who +is this Thompson; and why lies he here? + +In the town of Mansfield there was a poor boy, and this poor boy became +employed in a hosier's warehouse. From the warehouse his assiduity and +probity sent him to the counting-house; from the counting-house, abroad. +He traveled to carry stockings to the Asiatic and the people of the +south. He sailed up the rivers of Persia, and saw the tulips growing +wild on their banks, with many a lily and flower of our proudest +gardens. He traveled in Spain and Portugal, and was in Lisbon when the +great earthquake shook his house over his head. He fled. The streets +reeled; the houses fell; church towers dashed down in thunder across his +path. There were flying crowds, shrieks, and dust, and darkness. But he +fled on. The farther, the more misery. Crowds filled the fields when he +reached them--naked, half-naked, terrified, starving, and looking in +vain for a refuge. He fled across the hills, and gazed. The whole huge +city rocked and staggered below. There were clouds of dust, columns of +flame, the thunder of down-crashing buildings, the wild cries of men. He +suffered amid ten thousand suffering outcasts. + +At length, the tumult ceased; the earth became stable. With other ruined +and curious men he climbed over the heaps of desolation in quest of what +once was his home, and the depository of his property. His servant was +nowhere to be seen: Thompson felt that he must certainly have been +killed. After many days' quest, and many uncertainties, he found the +spot where his house had stood; it was a heap of rubbish. His servant +and merchandise lay beneath it. He had money enough, or credit enough, +to set to work men to clear away some of the fallen materials, and to +explore whether any amount of property were recoverable. What's that +sound? A subterranean, or subruinan, voice? The workmen stop, and are +ready to fly with fear. Thompson exhorts them, and they work on. But +again that voice! No _human_ creature can be living there. The laborers +again turn to fly. They are a poor, ignorant, and superstitious crew; +but Thompson's commands, and Thompson's gold, arrest them. They work on, +and out walks Thompson's living servant, still in the body, though a +body not much more substantial than a ghost All cry, "How have you +managed to live?" + +"I fled to the cellar. I have sipped the wine; but now I want bread, +meat, every thing!" and the living skeleton walked staggeringly on, and +looked voraciously for shops and loaves, and saw only brickbats and +ruins. + +Thompson recovered his goods, and retreated as soon as possible to his +native land. Here, in his native town, the memory of the earthquake +still haunted him. He used almost daily to hasten out of the place, and +up the forest hill, where he imagined that he saw Lisbon reeling, +tottering, churches falling, and men flying. But he saw only the red +tiles of some thousand peaceful houses, and the twirling of a dozen +windmill sails. Here he chose his burial-ground; walled it, and planted +it, and left special directions for his burial. The grave should be +deep, and the spades of resurrection-men disappointed by repeated layers +of straw, not easy to dig through. In the church-yard of Mansfield, +meantime, he found the grave of his parents, and honored it with an +inclosure of iron palisades. + +He died. How? Not in travel; not in sailing over the ocean, nor up +tulip-margined rivers of Persia or Arabia Felix; nor yet in an +earthquake--but in the dream of one. One night he was heard crying in a +voice of horror, "There! there!--fly! fly!--the town shakes! the house +falls! Ha! the earth opens!--away!" Then the voice ceased; but in the +morning it was found that he had rolled out of bed, lodged between the +bedstead and the wall, and there, like a sandbag wedged in a windy +crevice, he was--dead! + +There is, therefore, a dead Thompson in Sherwood Forest, where no +clergyman laid him, and yet he sleeps; and there is also a living +Thompson. + +In the village of Edwinstowe, on the very verge of the beautiful old +Birkland, there stands a painter's house. In his little parlor you find +books, and water-color-paintings on the walls, which show that the +painter has read and looked about him in the world. And yet he is but a +house-painter, who owes his establishment here to his love of nature +rather than to his love of art. In the neighboring Dukery, some one of +the wealthy wanted a piece of oak-painting done; but he was dissatisfied +with the style in which painters now paint oak; a style very splendid, +but as much resembling genuine oak as a frying-pan resembles the moon. +Christopher Thompson determined to try _his_ hand; and for this purpose +he did not put himself to school to some great master of the art, who +had copied the copy of a hundred consecutive copies of a piece of oak, +till the thing produced was very fine, but like no wood that ever grew +or ever will grow. Christopher Thompson went to nature. He got a piece +of well-figured, real oak, well planed and polished, and copied it +precisely. When the different specimens of the different painters were +presented to the aforesaid party, he found only one specimen at all like +oak, and that was Thompson's. The whole crowd of master house-painters +were exasperated and amazed. Such a fellow preferred to them! No; they +were wrong; it was nature that was preferred. + +Christopher Thompson was a self-taught painter. He had been tossed about +the world in a variety of characters--errand-boy, brickmakers' boy, +potter, shipwright, sailor, sawyer, strolling player; and here he +finally settled down as painter, and, having achieved a trade, he turned +author, and wrote his life. That life--_The Autobiography of an +Artisan_--is one of the best written and most interesting books of its +class that we ever read. It is full of the difficulties of a poor man's +life, and of the resolute spirit that conquers them. It is, moreover, +full of a desire to enlighten, elevate, and in every way better the +condition of his fellow-men. Christopher Thompson is not satisfied to +have made his own way; he is anxious to pave the way for the whole +struggling population. He is a zealous politician, and advocate of the +Odd Fellow system, as calculated to link men together and give them +power, while it gives them a stimulus to social improvement. He has +labored to diffuse a love of reading, and to establish mechanics' +libraries in neglected and obscure places. + +Behold the Thompson of Edwinstowe. Time, in eight-and-forty years, has +whitened his hair, though it has left the color of health on his cheek, +and the fire of intelligence in his eye. With a well-built frame and +figure, and a comely countenance, there is a buoyancy of step, an energy +of manner about him, that agree with what he has written of his life and +aspirations. Such are the men that England is now, ever and anon, in +every nook and corner of the island, producing. She produces them +because they are needed. They are the awakeners who are to stir up the +sluggish to what the time demands of them. + +The two Thompsons of Sherwood are types of their ages. He of the +grave--lies solitary and apart from his race. He lived to earn +money--his thought was for himself--and there he sleeps, alone in his +glory--such as it is. He was no worse, nay, he was better than many of +his contemporaries. He had no lack of benevolence; but trade and the +spirit of his age, cold and unsympathetic, absorbed him. He was content +to lie alone in the desert, amid the heath "that knows not when good +cometh," and where the lonely raven perches on the blasted tree. + +The living Thompson is, too, the man of his age: for it is an age of +awakening enterprise, of wider views, of stronger sympathies. He lives +and works, not for himself alone. His motto is Progress; and while the +forest whispers to him of the past, books and his own heart commune with +him of the future. Such men belong to both. When the present becomes the +past, their work will survive them; and their tomb will not be a desert, +but the grateful memories of improved men. May they spring up in every +hamlet, and carry knowledge and refinement to every cottage fireside! + + + + +[From Five Years' Hunting Adventures in South Africa.] + +HABITS OF THE AFRICAN LION. + + +The night of the 19th was to me rather a memorable one, as being the +first on which I had the satisfaction of hearing the deep-toned thunder +of the lion's roar. Although there was no one near to inform me by what +beast the haughty and impressive sounds which echoed through the +wilderness were produced, I had little difficulty in divining. There was +no mistake about it; and on hearing it I at once knew, as well as if +accustomed to the sound from my infancy; that the appalling roar which +was uttered within half a mile of me was no other than that of the +mighty and terrible king of beasts. Although the dignified and truly +monarchical appearance of the lion has long rendered him famous among +his fellow quadrupeds, and his appearance and habits have oftener been +described by abler pens than mine, nevertheless I consider that a few +remarks, resulting from my own personal experience, formed by a +tolerable long acquaintance with him, both by day and by night, may not +prove uninteresting to the reader. There is something so noble and +imposing in the presence of the lion, when seen walking with dignified +self-possession, free and undaunted, on his native soil, that no +description can convey an adequate idea of his striking appearance. The +lion is exquisitely formed by nature for the predatory habits which he +is destined to pursue. Combining in comparatively small compass the +qualities of power and agility, he is enabled, by means of the +tremendous machinery with which nature has gifted him, easily to +overcome and destroy almost every beast of the forest, however superior +to him in weight and stature. + +Though considerably under four feet in height, he has little difficulty +in dashing to the ground and overcoming the lofty and apparently +powerful giraffe, whose head towers above the trees of the forest, and +whose skin is nearly an inch in thickness. The lion is the constant +attendant of the vast herds of buffaloes which frequent the interminable +forests of the interior; and a full-grown one, so long as his teeth are +unbroken, generally proves a match for an old bull buffalo, which in +size and strength greatly surpasses the most powerful breed of English +cattle: the lion also preys on all the larger varieties of the +antelopes, and on both varieties of the gnoo. The zebra, which is met +with in large herds throughout the interior, is also a favorite object +of his pursuit. + +Lions do not refuse, as has been asserted, to feast upon the venison +that they have not killed themselves. I have repeatedly discovered lions +of all ages which had taken possession of, and were feasting upon, the +carcasses of various game quadrupeds which had fallen before my rifle. +The lion is very generally diffused throughout the secluded parts of +Southern Africa. He is, however, nowhere met with in great abundance, it +being very rare to find more than three, or even two, families of lions +frequenting the same district and drinking at the same fountain. When a +greater number were met with, I remarked that it was owing to +long-protracted droughts, which, by drying nearly all the fountains, had +compelled the game of various districts to crowd the remaining springs, +and the lions, according to their custom, followed in the wake. It is a +common thing to come upon a full-grown lion and lioness associating with +three or four large young ones nearly full-grown; at other times, +full-grown males will be found associating and hunting together in a +happy state of friendship: two, three, and four full-grown male lions +may thus be discovered consorting together. + +The male lion is adorned with a long, rank, shaggy mane, which in some +instances, almost sweeps the ground. The color of these manes varies, +some being very dark, and others of a golden yellow. This appearance has +given rise to a prevailing opinion among the boers that there are two +distinct varieties of lions, which they distinguish by the respective +names of "Schwart fore life" and "Chiel fore life:" this idea, however, +is erroneous. The color of the lion's mane is generally influenced by +his age. He attains his mane in the third year of his existence. I have +remarked that at first it is of a yellowish color; in the prime of life +it is blackest, and when he has numbered many years, but still is in the +full enjoyment of his power, it assumes a yellowish-gray, +pepper-and-salt sort of color. These old fellows are cunning and +dangerous, and most to be dreaded. The females are utterly destitute of +a mane, being covered with a short, thick, glossy coat of tawny hair. +The manes and coats of lions frequenting open-lying districts utterly +destitute of trees, such as the borders of the great Kalahari desert, +are more rank and handsome than those inhabiting forest districts. + +One of the most striking things connected with the lion is his voice, +which is extremely grand and peculiarly striking. It consists at times +of a low, deep moaning, repeated five or six times, ending in faintly +audible sighs; at other times he startles the forest with loud, +deep-toned, solemn roars, repeated five or six times in quick +succession, each increasing in loudness to the third or fourth, when his +voice dies away in five or six low, muffled sounds, very much resembling +distant thunder. At times, and not unfrequently, a troop may be heard +roaring in concert, one assuming the lead, and two, three, or four more +regularly taking up their parts, like persons singing a catch. Like our +Scottish stags at the rutting season, they roar loudest in cold, frosty +nights; but on no occasions are their voices to be heard in such +perfection, or so intensely powerful, as when two or three strange +troops of lions approach a fountain to drink at the same time. When this +occurs, every member of each troop sounds a bold roar of defiance at the +opposite parties; and when one roars, all roar together, and each seems +to vie with his comrades in the intensity and power of his voice. + +The power and grandeur of these nocturnal forest concerts is +inconceivably striking and pleasing to the hunter's ear. The effect, I +may remark, is greatly enhanced when the hearer happens to be situated +in the depths of the forest, at the dead hour of midnight, unaccompanied +by any attendant, and ensconced within twenty yards of the fountain +which the surrounding troops of lions are approaching. Such has been my +situation many scores of times; and though I am allowed to have a +tolerable good taste for music, I consider the catches with which I was +then regaled as the sweetest and most natural I ever heard. + +As a general rule, lions roar during the night; their sighing moans +commencing as the shades of evening envelop the forest, and continuing +at intervals throughout the night. In distant and secluded regions, +however, I have constantly heard them roaring loudly as late as nine and +ten o'clock on a bright sunny morning. In hazy and rainy weather they +are to be heard at every hour in the day, but their roar is subdued. It +often happens that when two strange male lions meet at a fountain, a +terrific combat ensues, which not unfrequently ends in the death of one +of them. The habits of the lion are strictly nocturnal; during the day +he lies concealed beneath the shade of some low, bushy tree or +wide-spreading bush, either in the level forest or on the mountain side. +He is also partial to lofty reeds, or fields of long, rank, yellow +grass, such as occur in low-lying vleys. From these haunts he sallies +forth when the sun goes down, and commences his nightly prowl. When he +is successful in his beat and has secured his prey, he does not roar +much that night, only uttering occasionally a few low moans; that is, +provided no intruders approach him, otherwise the case would be very +different. + +Lions are ever most active, daring, and presuming in dark and stormy +nights, and consequently, on such occasions, the traveler ought more +particularly to be on his guard. I remarked a fact connected with the +lions' hour of drinking peculiar to themselves: they seemed unwilling to +visit the fountains with good moonlight. Thus, when the moon rose early, +the lions deferred their hour of watering until late in the morning; and +when the moon rose late, they drank at a very early hour in the night. +By this acute system many a grisly lion saved his bacon, and is now +luxuriating in the forests of South Africa, which had otherwise fallen +by the barrels of my "Westley Richards." Owing to the tawny color of the +coat with which nature has robed him, he is perfectly invisible in the +dark; and although I have often heard them loudly lapping the water +under my very nose, not twenty yards from me. I could not possibly make +out so much as the outline of their forms. When a thirsty lion comes to +water, he stretches out his massive arms, lies down on his breast to +drink, and makes a loud lapping noise in drinking not to be mistaken. He +continues lapping up the water for a long while, and four or five times +during the proceeding he pauses for half a minute as if to take breath. +One thing conspicuous about them is their eyes, which, in a dark night, +glow like two balls of fire. The female is more fierce and active than +the male, as a general rule. Lionesses which have never had young are +much more dangerous than those which have. At no time is the lion so +much to be dreaded as when his partner has got small young ones. At that +season he knows no fear, and, in the coolest and most intrepid manner, +he will face a thousand men. A remarkable instance of this kind came +under my own observation, which confirmed the reports I had before heard +from the natives. One day, when out elephant-hunting in the territory of +the "Baseleka," accompanied by two hundred and fifty men, I was +astonished suddenly to behold a majestic lion slowly and steadily +advancing toward us with a dignified step and undaunted bearing, the +most noble and imposing that can be conceived. Lashing his tail from +side to side, and growling haughtily, his terribly expressive eye +resolutely fixed upon us, and displaying a show of ivory well calculated +to inspire terror among the timid "Bechuanas," he approached. A headlong +flight of the two hundred and fifty men was the immediate result; and, +in the confusion of the moment, four couples of my dogs, which they had +been leading, were allowed to escape in their couples. These instantly +faced the lion, who, finding that by his bold bearing he had succeeded +in putting his enemies to flight, now became solicitous for the safety +of his little family, with which the lioness was retreating in the +background. Facing about, he followed after them with a haughty and +independent step, growling fiercely at the dogs which trotted along on +either side of him. Three troops of elephants having been discovered a +few minutes previous to this, upon which I was marching for the attack, +I, with the most heartfelt reluctance, reserved my fire. On running down +the hill side to endeavor to recall my dogs, I observed, for the first +time, the retreating lioness with four cubs. About twenty minutes +afterward two noble elephants repaid my forbearance. + +Among Indian Nimrods, a certain class of royal tigers is dignified with +the appellation of "man-eaters." These are tigers which, having once +tasted human flesh, show a predilection for the same, and such +characters are very naturally famed and dreaded among the natives. +Elderly gentlemen of similar tastes and habits are occasionally met with +among the lions in the interior of South Africa, and the danger of such +neighbors may be easily imagined. I account for lions first acquiring +this taste in the following manner: the Bechuana tribes of the far +interior do not bury their dead, but unceremoniously carry them forth, +and leave them lying exposed in the forest or on the plain, a prey to +the lion and hyaena, or the jackal and vulture; and I can readily imagine +that a lion, having thus once tasted human flesh, would have little +hesitation, when opportunity presented itself, of springing upon and +carrying off the unwary traveler or "Bechuana" inhabiting his country. +Be this as it may, man-eaters occur; and on my fourth hunting +expedition, a horrible tragedy was acted one dark night in my little +lonely camp by one of these formidable characters, which deprived me, in +the far wilderness, of my most valuable servant. In winding up these few +observations on the lion, which I trust will not have been tiresome to +the reader, I may remark that lion-hunting, under any circumstances, is +decidedly a dangerous pursuit. It may nevertheless be followed, to a +certain extent, with comparative safety by those who have naturally a +turn for that sort of thing. A recklessness of death, perfect coolness +and self-possession, an acquaintance with the disposition and manners of +lions, and a tolerable knowledge of the use of the rifle, are +indispensable to him who would shine in the overpoweringly exciting +pastime of hunting this justly-celebrated king of beasts. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE OLD CHURCH-YARD TREE. + +A PROSE POEM. + + +There is an old yew tree which stands by the wall in a dark quiet corner +of the church-yard. + +And a child was at play beneath its wide-spreading branches, one fine +day in the early spring. He had his lap full of flowers, which the +fields and lanes had supplied him with, and he was humming a tune to +himself as he wove them into garlands. + +And a little girl at play among the tombstones crept near to listen; but +the boy was so intent upon his garland, that he did not hear the gentle +footsteps as they trod softly over the fresh green grass. When his work +was finished, and all the flowers that were in his lap were woven +together in one long wreath, he started, up to measure its length upon +the ground, and then he saw the little girl, as she stood with her eyes +fixed upon him. He did not move or speak, but thought to himself that +she looked very beautiful as she stood there with her flaxen ringlets +hanging down upon her neck. The little girl was so startled by his +sudden movement, that she let fall all the flowers she had collected in +her apron, and ran away as fast as she could. But the boy was older and +taller than she, and soon caught her, and coaxed her to come back and +play with him, and help him to make more garlands; and from that time +they saw each other nearly every day, and became great friends. + +Twenty years passed away. Again, he was seated beneath the old yew tree +in the church-yard. + +It was summer now; bright, beautiful summer, with the birds singing, and +the flowers covering the ground, and scenting the air with their +perfume. + +But he was not alone now, nor did the little girl steal near on tiptoe, +fearful of being heard. She was seated by his side, and his arm was +round her, and she looked up into his face, and smiled as she whispered: +"The first evening of our lives we were ever together was passed here: +we will spend the first evening of our wedded life in the same quiet, +happy place." And he drew her closer to him as she spoke. + +The summer is gone; and the autumn; and twenty more summers and autumns +have passed away since that evening, in the old church-yard. + +A young man, on a bright moonlight night, comes reeling through the +little white gate, and stumbling over the graves. He shouts and he +sings, and is presently followed by others like unto himself, or worse. +So, they all laugh at the dark solemn head of the yew tree, and throw +stones up at the place where the moon has silvered the boughs. + +Those same boughs are again silvered by the moon, and they droop over +his mother's grave. There is a little stone which bears this +inscription: + + "HER HEART BRAKE IN SILENCE." + +But the silence of the church-yard is now broken by a voice--not of the +youth--nor a voice of laughter and ribaldry. + +"My son! dost thou see this grave? and dost thou read the record in +anguish, whereof may come repentance?" + +"Of what should I repent?" answers the son; "and why should my young +ambition for fame relax in its strength because my mother was old and +weak?" + +"Is this indeed our son?" says the father, bending in agony over the +grave of his beloved. + +"I can well believe I am not;" exclaimeth the youth. "It is well that +you have brought me here to say so. Our natures are unlike; our courses +must be opposite. Your way lieth here--mine yonder!" + +So the son left the father kneeling by the grave. + +Again a few years are passed. It is winter, with a roaring wind and a +thick gray fog. The graves in the church-yard are covered with snow, and +there are great icicles in the church-porch. The wind now carries a +swathe of snow along the tops of the graves, as though the "sheeted +dead" were at some melancholy play; and hark! the icicles fall with a +crash and jingle, like a solemn mockery of the echo of the unseemly +mirth of one who is now coming to his final rest. + +There are two graves near the old yew tree; and the grass has overgrown +them. A third is close by; and the dark earth at each side has just been +thrown up. The bearers come; with a heavy pace they move along; the +coffin heaveth up and down, as they step over the intervening graves. + +Grief and old age had seized upon the father, and worn out his life; and +premature decay soon seized upon the son, and gnawed away his vain +ambition, and his useless strength, till he prayed to be borne, not the +way yonder that was most opposite to his father and his mother, but even +the same way they had gone--the way which leads to the Old Church-yard +Tree. + + + + +THE ENGLISH PEASANT. + +BY HOWITT. + + +The English peasant is generally reckoned a very simple, monotonous +animal; and most people, when they have called him a clown, or a +country-hob, think they have described him. If you see a picture of him, +he is a long, silly-looking fellow, in a straw hat, a white slop, and a +pair of ankle-boots, with a bill in his hand--just as the London artist +sees him in the juxta-metropolitan districts; and that is the English +peasant. They who have gone farther into England, however, than Surrey, +Kent, or Middlesex, have seen the English peasant in some different +costume, under a good many different aspects; and they who will take the +trouble to recollect what they have heard of him, will find him a rather +multifarious creature. He is, in truth, a very Protean personage. What +is he, in fact? A day-laborer, a woodman, a plowman, a wagoner, a +collier, a worker in railroad and canal making, a gamekeeper, a poacher, +an incendiary, a charcoal-burner, a keeper of village ale-houses, and +Tom-and-Jerrys; a tramp, a pauper, pacing sullenly in the court-yard of +a parish-union, or working in his frieze jacket on some parish-farm; a +boatman, a road-side stone-breaker, a quarryman, a journeyman +bricklayer, or his clerk; a shepherd, a drover, a rat-catcher, a +mole-catcher, and a hundred other things; in any one of which, he is as +different from the sheepish, straw-hatted, and ankle-booted, +bill-holding fellow of the print-shop windows, as a cockney is from a +Newcastle keelman. + +In the matter of costume only, every different district presents him in +a different shape. In the counties round London, eastward and westward, +through Berkshire, Hampshire, Wiltshire, etc., he is the _white-slopped_ +man of the London prints, with a longish, rosy-cheeked face, and a +stupid, quiet manner. In Hertfordshire, Bedfordshire, and in that +direction, he sports his _olive-green_ slop, and his wide-awake, larking +hat, bit-o'-blood, or whatever else the hatters call those +round-crowned, turned-up-brimmed felts of eighteen-pence or two +shillings cost, which have of late years so wonderfully taken the fancy +of the country-chaps. In the Midland counties, especially +Leicestershire, Derby, Nottingham, Warwick, and Staffordshire, he dons a +_blue-slop_, called the Newark frock, which is finely gathered in a +square piece of puckerment on the back and breast, on the shoulders and +at the wrists; is adorned also, in those parts, with flourishes of white +thread, and as invariably has a little white heart stitched in at the +bottom of the slit at the neck. A man would not think himself a man, if +he had not one of those slops, which are the first things that he sees +at a market or a fair, hung aloft at the end of the slop-vender's stall, +on a crossed pole, and waving about like a scarecrow in the wind. + +Under this he generally wears a coarse blue jacket, a red or yellow shag +waistcoat, stout blue worsted stockings, tall laced ankle-boots, and +corduroy breeches or trowsers. A red handkerchief round his neck is his +delight, with two good long ends dangling in front. In many other parts +of the country, he wears no slop at all, but a corduroy or fustian +jacket, with capacious pockets, and buttons of giant size. + +That is his every-day, work-a-day style; but see him on a Sunday, or a +holiday--see him turn out to church, wake, or fair--there's a _beau_ for +you! If he has not his best slop on, which has never yet been defiled by +touch of labor, he is conspicuous in his blue, brown, or olive-green +coat, and waistcoat of glaring color--scarlet, or blue, or green +striped--but it must be showy; and a pair of trowsers, generally blue, +with a width nearly as ample as a sailor's, and not only guiltless of +the foppery of being strapped down, but if he find the road rather +dirty, or the grass dewy, they are turned up three or four inches at the +bottom, so as to show the lining. On those days, he has a hat of modern +shape, that has very lately cost him four-and-sixpence; and if he fancy +himself rather handsome, or stands well with the women, he cocks it a +little on one side, and wears it with a knowing air. He wears the collar +of his coarse shirt up on a holiday, and his flaming handkerchief round +his neck puts forth dangling ends of an extra length, like streamers. +The most troublesome business of a full-dress day is to know what to do +with his hands. He is dreadfully at a loss where to put them. On other +days, they have plenty of occupation with their familiar implements, but +to-day they are miserably sensible of a vacuum; and, except he be very +old, he wears no gloves. They are sometimes diving into his +trowser-pockets, sometimes into his waistcoat-pocket, and at others into +his coat-pockets behind, turning his laps out like a couple of tails. + +The great remedy for this inconvenience is a stick, or a switch; and in +the corner of his cottage, between the clock-case and the wall, you +commonly see a stick of a description that indicates its owner. It is an +ash-plant, with a face cut on its knob; or a thick hazel, which a +woodbine has grown tightly round, and raised on it a spiral, serpentine +swelling; or it is a switch, that is famous for cutting off the heads of +thistles, docks, and nettles, as he goes along. + +The women, in their paraphernalia, generally bear a nearer resemblance +to their sisters of the town; the village dressmaker undertaking to put +them into the very newest fashion which has reached that part of the +country; and truly, were it not for the genuine country manner in which +their clothes are thrown on, they might pass very well, too, at the +market. + +But the old men and old women, they are of the ancient world, truly. +There they go, tottering and stooping along to church! It is now their +longest journey. The old man leans heavily on his stout stick. His thin +white hair covers his shoulders; his coat, with large steel buttons, and +square-cut collar, has an antique air; his breeches are of leather, and +worn bright with age, standing up at the knees, like the lids of +tankards; and his loose shoes have large steel buckles. By his side, +comes on his old dame, with her little, old-fashioned black bonnet; her +gown, of a large flowery pattern, pulled up through the pocket-hole, +showing a well-quilted petticoat, black stockings, high-heeled shoes, +and large buckles also. She has on a black mode cloak, edged with +old-fashioned lace, carefully darned; or if winter, her warm red cloak, +with a narrow edging of fur down the front. You see, in fancy, the oaken +chest in which that drapery has been kept for the last half century; and +you wonder who is to wear it next. Not their children--for the fashions +of this world are changed; they must be cut down into primitive raiment +for the grandchildren. + +But who says the English peasant is dull and unvaried in his character? +To be sure, he has not the wild wit, the voluble tongue, the reckless +fondness for laughing, dancing, carousing, and shillalying of the Irish +peasant; nor the grave, plodding habits and intelligence of the Scotch +one. He may be said, in his own phraseology, to be "betwixt and +between." He has wit enough when it is wanted; he can be merry enough +when there is occasion; he is ready for a row when his blood is well up; +and he will take to his book, if you will give him a schoolmaster. What +is he, indeed, but the rough block of English character? Hew him out of +the quarry of ignorance; dig him out of the slough of everlasting labor; +chisel him, and polish him; and he will come out whatever you please. +What is the stuff of which your armies have been chiefly made, but this +English peasant? Who won your Cressys, your Agincourts, your Quebecs, +your Indies, East and West, and your Waterloos, but the English peasant, +trimmed and trained into the game-cock of war? How many of them have +been carried off to man your fleets, to win your Camperdowns and +Trafalgars? and when they came ashore again, were no longer the simple, +slouching Simons of the village; but jolly tars, with rolling gait, quid +in mouth, glazed hats, with crowns of one inch high, and brims of five +wide, and with as much glib slang, and glib money to treat the girls +with, as any Jack of them all. + +Cowper has drawn a capital picture of the ease and perfection with which +the clownish chrysalis may be metamorphosed into the scarlet moth of +war. Catch the animal young, and you may turn him into any shape you +please. He will learn to wear silk stockings, scarlet plush breeches, +collarless coats, with silver buttons; and swing open a gate with a +grace, or stand behind my lady's carriage with his wand, as smoothly +impudent as any of the tribe. He will clerk it with a pen behind his +ear; or mount a pulpit, as Stephen Duck, the thresher, did, if you will +only give him the chance. The fault is not in him, it is in fortune. He +has rich fallows in his soul, if any body thought them worth turning. +But keep him down, and don't press him too hard; feed him pretty well, +and give him plenty of work; and, like one of his companions, the +cart-horse, he will drudge on till the day of his death. + +So in the north of England, where they give him a cottage and his food, +and keep no more of his species than will just do the work, letting all +the rest march off to the Tyne collieries; he is a very patient +creature; and if they did not show him books, would not wince at all. So +in the fens of Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdon, and on many +a fat and clayey level of England, where there are no resident gentry, +and but here and there a farm-house, you may meet, the English peasant +in his most sluggish and benumbed condition. He is then a long-legged, +staring creature, considerably "lower than the angels," who, if you ask +him a question, gapes like an Indian frog, which, when its mouth is +open, has its head half off; and neither understands your language, nor, +if he did, could grasp your ideas. He is there a walking lump, a thing +with members, but very little membership with the intellectual world; +but with a soul as stagnant as one of his own dykes. All that has been +wanted in him has been cultivated, and is there--good sturdy limbs, to +plow and sow, reap and mow, and feed bullocks; and even in those +operations, his sinews have been half-superseded by machinery. There +never was any need of his mind; and, therefore, it never has been +minded. + +This is the English peasant, where there is nobody to breathe a soul +into the clod. But what is he where there are thousands of the wealthy +and the wise? What is he round London--the great, the noble, and the +enlightened? Pretty much the same, and from pretty much the same causes. +Few trouble themselves about him. He feels that he is a mere serf, among +the great and free; a mere machine in the hands of the mighty, who use +him as such. He sees the sunshine of grandeur, but he does not feel its +warmth. He hears that the great folks are wise; but all he knows is, +that their wisdom does not trouble itself about his ignorance. He asks, +with "The Farmer's Boy," + + Whence comes this change, ungracious, irksome, cold? + Whence this new grandeur that mine eyes behold?-- + The widening distance that I daily see? + Has wealth done this? Then wealth's a foe to me! + Foe to my rights, that leaves a powerful few + The paths of emulation to pursue. + +Beneath the overwhelming sense of his position, that he belongs to a +neglected, despised caste, he is, in the locality alluded to, truly a +dull fellow. That the peasant there is not an ass or a sheep, you only +know by his standing on end. You hear no strains of country drollery, +and no characters of curious or eccentric humor; all is dull, plodding, +and lumpish. + +But go forth, my masters, to a greater distance from the luminous +capital of England; get away into the Midland and more Northern +counties, where the pride of greatness is not so palpably before the +poor man's eyes--where the peasantry and villagers are numerous enough +to keep one another in countenance; and there you shall find the English +peasant a "happier and a wiser man." Sunday-schools, and village +day-schools, give him at least the ability to read the Bible. There, the +peasant feels that he is a man; he speaks in a broad dialect, indeed, +but he is "a fellow of infinite jest." Hear him in the hay-field, in the +corn-field, at the harvest-supper, or by the village ale-house fire, if +he be not very refined, he is, nevertheless, a very independent fellow. +Look at the man indeed! None of your long, lanky fellows, with a sleepy +visage; but a sturdy, square-built chap, propped on a pair of legs, that +have self-will, and the spirit of Hampden in them, as plain as the ribs +of the gray-worsted stockings that cover them. What thews, what sinews, +what a pair of _calves_! why, they more resemble a couple of full-grown +_bulls_! See to his salutation, as he passes any of his neighbors--hear +it. Does he touch his hat, and bow his head, and look down, as the great +man goes by in his carriage? No! he leaves that to the cowed bumpkin of +the south. He looks his rich-neighbor full in the face, with a fearless, +but respectful gaze, and bolts from his manly breast a hearty, "Good day +to ye, sir!" To his other neighbor, his equal in worldly matters, he +extends his broad hand, and gives him a shake that is felt to the bottom +of the heart. "Well, and how are you, John?--and how's Molly, and all +the little ankle-biters?--and how goes the pig on, and the garden--eh?" + +Let me hear the dialogue of those two brave fellows; there is the soul +of England's brightest days in it. I am sick of slavish poverty on the +one hand, and callous pride on the other. I yearn for the sound of +language breathed from the lungs of humble independence, and the +cordial, earnest greetings of poor, but warm-hearted men, as I long for +the breeze of the mountains and the sea. Oh! I doubt much if this + + Bold peasantry, a country's pride, + +is lowered in its tone, both of heart-wholeness, boldness, and +affection, by the harsh times and harsh measures that have passed over +every district, even the most favored; or why all these emigrations, and +why all these parish-unions? What, then, is not the English peasant what +he was? If I went among them where I used to go, should I not find the +same merry groups seated among the sheaves, or under the hedgerows, full +of laughter, and full of droll anecdotes of all the country round? +Should I not hear of the farmer who never wrote but one letter in his +life, and that was to a gentleman forty miles off; who, on opening it, +and not being able to puzzle out more than the name and address of his +correspondent, mounted his horse in his vexation, and rode all the way +to ask the farmer to read the letter himself; and he could not do +it--could not read his own writing? Should I not hear Jonathan Moore, +the stout old mower, rallied on his address to the bull, when it pursued +him till he escaped into a tree? How Jonathan, sitting across a branch, +looked down with the utmost contempt on the bull, and endeavored to +convince him that he was a bully and a coward? "My! what a vaporing +coward art thou! Where's the fairness, where's the equalness of the +match? I tell thee, my heart's good enough; but what's my strength to +thine?" + +Should I not once more hear the hundred-times-told story of Jockey +Dawes, and the man who sold him his horse? Should I not hear these, and +scores of such anecdotes, that show the simple life of the district, and +yet have more hearty merriment in them than much finer stories in much +finer places? Hard times and hard measures may have, quenched some of +the ancient hilarity of the English peasant, and struck a silence into +lungs that were wont to "crow like chanticleer;" yet I will not believe +but that, in many a sweet and picturesque district, on many a brown +moor-land, in many a far-off glen and dale of our wilder and more +primitive districts, where the peasantry are almost the sole +inhabitants--whether shepherds, laborers, hewers of wood, or drawers of +waters-- + + The ancient spirit is not dead, + +that homely and loving groups gather round evening fires, beneath low +and smoky rafters, and feel that they have labor and care enough, as +their fathers had, but that they have the pride of homes, hearts, and +sympathies still. + +Let England take care that these are the portion of the English peasant, +and he will never cease to show himself the noblest peasant on the face +of the earth. Is he not that, in his patience with penury with him, and +old age, and the union before him? Is he not that, when his landlord has +given him his sympathy? When he has given him an ALLOTMENT--who so +grateful, so industrious, so provident, so contented, and so +respectable? + +The English peasant has in his nature all the elements of the English +character. Give him ease, and who so readily pleased; wrong him, and who +so desperate in his rage? + +In his younger days, before the care of a family weighs on him, he is a +clumsy, but a very light-hearted creature. To see a number of young +country fellows get into play together, always reminds one of a quantity +of heavy cart-horses turned into a field on a Sunday. They gallop, and +kick, and scream. There is no malice, but a dreadful jeopardy of bruises +and broken ribs. Their play is truly called horse-play; it is all slaps +and bangs, tripping-up, tumbles, and laughter. But to see the young +peasant in his glory, you should see him hastening to the +Michaelmas-fair, statute, bull-roasting, or mop. He has served his year; +he has money in his pocket, his sweetheart on his arm, or he is sure to +meet her at the fair. Whether he goes again to his old place or a new +one, he will have a week's holiday. Thus, on old Michaelmas-day, he and +all his fellows, all the country over, are let loose, and are on the way +to the fair. The houses are empty of them--the highways are full of +them; there they go, lads and lasses, streaming along, all in their +finery, and with a world of laughter and loud talk. See, here they come, +flocking into the market-town! And there, what preparations for them! +shows, strolling theatres, stalls of all kinds--bearing clothes of all +kinds, knives, combs, queen-cakes, and gingerbread, and a hundred +inventions to lure those hard-earned wages out of his fob. And he does +not mean to be stingy to-day; he will treat his lass, and buy her a new +gown into the bargain. See, how they go rolling on together! He holds up +his elbow sharply by his side; she thrusts her arm through his, _up to +the elbow_, and away they go--a walking miracle that they can walk +together at all. As to keeping step, that is out of the question; but, +besides this, they wag and roll about in such a way, that, keeping their +arms tightly linked, it is amazing that they don't pull off one or the +other; but they don't. They shall see the shows, and stand all in a +crowd before them, with open eyes and open mouths, wondering at the +beauty of the dancing-women, and their gowns all over spangles, and at +all the wit and grimaces, and somersets of harlequin and clown. They +have had a merry dinner and a dance, like a dance of elephants and +hippopotami; and then-- + + To-morrow to fresh fields and pastures new. + +And these are the men that become sullen and desperate--that become +poachers and incendiaries. How and why! It is not plenty and kind words +that make them so? What, then? What makes the wolves herd together, and +descend from the Alps and the Pyrenees? What makes them desperate and +voracious, blind with fury, and reveling with vengeance? Hunger and +hardship! + +When the English peasant is gay, at ease, well-fed and clothed, what +cares he how many pheasants are in a wood, or ricks in a farmer's yard? +When he has a dozen backs to clothe, and a dozen mouths to feed, and +nothing to put on the one, and little to put into the other--then that +which seemed a mere playful puppy, suddenly starts up a snarling, +red-eyed monster! How sullen he grows! With what equal indifference he +shoots down pheasants or game-keepers. How the man who so recently held +up his head and laughed aloud, now sneaks, a villainous fiend, with the +dark lantern and the match, to his neighbor's rick! Monster! Can this be +the English peasant? 'Tis the same!--'tis the very man! But what has +made him so? What has thus demonized, thus infuriated, thus converted +him into a walking pestilence? Villain as he is, is he alone to +blame?--or is there another? + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. + +[_Continued from Page_ 340.] + +CHAPTER IX. + +A SCRAPE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. + + +When I reached the quarters of the etat major, I found the great +court-yard of the "hotel" crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of +the service. Some were newly-joined recruits waiting for the orders to +be forwarded to their respective regiments. Some were invalids just +issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way +homeward. There were sergeants with billet rolls, and returns, and +court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents, hastening +hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went; +all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms +called out the orders from the different windows, and dispatches were +sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient +palace of the dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble +in the centre of the "Cour," still showed the proud armorial bearings of +that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated +groups of soldiers; their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting +strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that +still decorated the rich "plateau." Chakos, helmets, and great coats +were hung upon the orange trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the +white leather apron of the "sapeur," were drying along the marble +benches of the terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, +which separated the court from the garden, was actually covered with +belts, swords, bayonets, and horse gear, in every stage and process of +cleaning. Within the garden itself, however, all was silent and still. +Two sentries, who paced backward and forward beneath the "grille," +showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose careless +gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the mere "genius +of the place" would exercise over them. + +To me, the interest of every thing was increasing; and whether I +lingered to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at +all he saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old +soldiers of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they +were going; perhaps to the north to join the army of Sambre; perhaps to +the east, to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they were +destined for Italy: none cared! Meanwhile, at every moment, detachments +moved off, and their places were filled by fresh arrivals--all dusty and +way-worn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel, +when they were called on to "fall in," and again the word "forward" was +given. Such of the infantry as appeared too weary for the march were +sent on in great charrettes drawn by six or eight horses, and capable of +carrying forty men in each; and of these, there seemed to be no end. No +sooner was one detachment away, than another succeeded. Whatever their +destination, one thing seemed evident, the urgency that called them was +beyond the common. For a while I forgot all about myself in the greater +interest of the scene; but then came the thought, that I, too, should +have my share in this onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my +young friend, the "Sous-Lieutenant." I had not asked his name, but his +regiment I knew to be the 22d Chasseurs a Cheval. The uniform was light +green, and easily enough to be recognized; yet nowhere was it to be +seen. There were cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and +carabiniers in abundance--every thing, in short, but what I sought. + +At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22d were quartered, +and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that morning at +eight o'clock. There were two more squadrons expected to arrive at noon, +but the orders were that they were to proceed without further halt. + +"And whither to?" asked I. + +"To Treves, on the Moselle," said he, and turned away as if he would not +be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not have +been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me. He was +to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have obtained +the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one even to +advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but could +resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now become a +reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles hastening +forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers just flushed +with recent victory; even the peasant boys were "eager for the fray;" +but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The enthusiasm of +all around only served to increase and deepen my depression. There was +not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran of the ranks to the +merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have exchanged fortunes. Some +hours passed over in these gloomy reveries, and when I looked up from +the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over me, "the Cour" was almost +empty. A few sick soldiers waiting for their billets of leave, a few +recruits not yet named to any corps, and a stray orderly or two standing +beside his horse, were all that remained. + +I arose to go away, but in my pre-occupation of mind, instead of turning +toward the street, I passed beneath a large arch-way into another court +of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in decoration and +ornament than the outer one. After spending some time admiring the +quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all the architraves +and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched door-way, in the middle +of which was a small railed window, like the grille of a convent. I +approached, and perceived that it led into a garden, by a long, narrow +walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a wall. The trimly-raked +gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge, showed the care bestowed on +the grounds to be a wide contrast to the neglect exhibited in the +mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths and carnations ran along +either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms appearing in strong +relief against the back-ground of dark foliage. + +The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of my +arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within the +precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire and +close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I could not +resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so tempting. There was +no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought it likely the garden +was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with cautious and uncertain +steps; at last, with more confidence, for as I issued from the +hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the solitude seemed +unbroken. Fruit trees, loaded with their produce, stood in a closely +shaven lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks planted +with daffodills and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about through the +grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn boldly came +over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not finding an old +friend, continued to walk beside me as I went. + +The grounds appeared of great extent; paths led off in every direction; +and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering roof and +sides of a conservatory, in others, the humble culture of a vegetable +garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in the calm and +tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so immediately after +the busy bustle of the "soldiering," I soon not only forgot that I was +an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander "fancy free," following +out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the +choice were given me, I would rather have been the "Adam of that Eden" +than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory! +Fortunately, or unfortunately--it would not be easy to decide which--the +alternative was not open to me. It was while I was still musing, I found +myself at the foot of a little eminence, on which stood a tower, whose +height and position showed it had been built for the view it afforded +over a vast tract of country. Even from where I stood, at its base, I +could see over miles and miles of a great plain, with the main roads +leading toward the north and eastward. This spot was also the boundary +of the grounds, and a portion of the old boulevard of the town formed +the defense against the open country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with +sides of sloping sward, cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order; but, +from its depth and width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was +peering cautiously down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to +my ear, that I started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the +speaker was directly above me; and leaning over the battlements at the +top of the tower. + +"You're quite right, cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his eye, +and directed his view toward the plain. He _has_ gone wrong! He has +taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one." + +An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the +telescope passed to another hand, and to my astonishment, that of a +lady. + +"Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and +yet--Parbleu! it's too bad!" + +I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but not +distinguish the words; when the man again spoke: + +"No, no; it's all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without an +orderly to send after him. Diable! it _is_ provoking." + +"Isn't that one of your people at the foot of the tower?" said the lady, +as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open, and +close over me; for as he moved his head to look down, I saw the epaulets +of a staff officer. + +"Halloa!" cried he, "are you on duty?" + +"No, sir; I was--" + +Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on, + +"Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road, and +tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned off +to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are +mounted, of course?" + +"No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can--" + +"No, no; it will be too late," he broke in again. "Take my troop horse, +and be off. You'll find him in the stable, to your left." + +Then turning to the lady I heard him say-- + +"It may save Roquelard from an arrest." + +I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had +pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in +the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I +guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door being +unlatched, I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were feeding +at the racks, their glossy coats and long silky manes showing the care +bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I surveyed them +all with keen and scrutinizing eye. All my skill in such matters was +unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable and +handsome--in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of +careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters +"R.F.;" and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful +black horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action, +while the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a +"tartar." Making choice of him without an instant's hesitation, I threw +on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the +bridle, and led him forth. In all my "school experience" I had never +seen an animal that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and +slightly-dipped back showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the +stronger qualities of the Norman horse. I sprung to my saddle with +delight; to be astride such a beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm +of my nature, and as I grasped the reins, and urged him forward, I was +half wild with excitement. + +Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for he +gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will give, +and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me. This +failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and threatening +even to fall backward. I saw that I had, indeed, selected a wicked one; +for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap, the object was +clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would crouch, as if to +lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air, with a toss up of +his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At another he would +spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a fish, till the +saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe body. Not only did I +resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued to punish with whip +and spur the entire time--a proceeding, I could easily see, he was not +prepared for. At last, actually maddened with his inability to throw me, +and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he broke away, and dashing +headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest of the grove. +Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of stunted growth, +so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger; but suddenly +emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if his passion +became more furious as he indulged it, he threw up his head, and struck +out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was heading for the +great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on its brink. A +shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower; but I heard +nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps at that moment +just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his flanks, and +over we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a seagull on a +wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat sobered _him_; but +on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt that I had gained +the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting punishment, then, +I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay straight before me. The +few fences which divided the great fields were too insignificant to be +called leaps, and he took them in the "sling" of his stretching gallop. +He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of my wrist, and obeying +every motive of my will like an instinct. It may read like a petty +victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph over an enraged and +powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are more pleasurably +exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne along in full speed, +leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge and mill behind +you--now careering up the mountain side, with the fresh breeze upon your +brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the hare from her +cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before you--it is still +increased by the sense of a victory, by feeling that the mastery is with +you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath you has its impulse +in your own heart. + +Although the cavalry squadrons I was dispatched to overtake had quitted +Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an hour, and +inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of the +division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man who listened +to my message without changing a muscle. + +"Who sent you with this order?" said he. + +"A general officer, sir, whose name I don't know; but who told me to +take his own horse and follow you." + +"Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir," said he, pointing to the +heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast. + +"He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the +Boulevard, rode away with me." + +"Why it's Colonel Mahon's Arab, 'Aleppo,'" said another officer; "what +could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a best worth ten +thousand francs?" + +I thought I'd have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole +consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest, +trial, sentence, imprisonment, and heaven knew what afterward, like a +panorama rolling out to my view. + +"Tell the colonel, sir," said the major, "that I have taken the north +road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery trains +have cut up the Metz road so deeply that cavalry can not travel; tell +him that I thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this dispatch +to me; and tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should +prevent my sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest, for +the manner in which you have ridden--you hear, sir?" + +I touched my cap in salute. + +"Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?" + +"I am, sir." + +"Repeat it, then." + +I mentioned the reply, word for word, as he spoke it. + +"No, sir," said he, as I concluded; "I said for unsoldierlike and cruel +treatment to your horse." + +One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly +added-- + +"I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done so; +give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first." + +"Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty," muttered one of the captains. + +"I'd not blame him," joined another; "that horse saved his life at +Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!" + +The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set out toward +Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate. + +If I did not feel that these brief records of an humble career were +"upon honor," and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant can +teach is, the conflict between opposing influences, I might possibly be +disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along toward Nancy, a very +great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to desert! It is a +very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were not in the French +service any of those ignominious punishments which, once undergone, a +man is dishonored forever, and no more admissible to rank with men of +character than if convicted of actual crime; but there were marks of +degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and which men dreaded with +a fear nearly as acute--such, for instance, as being ordered for service +at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon--the arduous duty of guarding the +galley slaves, and which was scarcely a degree above the condition of +the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as this, I would willingly +have preferred death. It was, then, this thought that suggested +desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy temptation, and held on my +way toward Nancy. + +Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while he +showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue; and +as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at each +fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths, to give him +freedom, long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his +looks, and much of his spirit. + +At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart, I +found myself at the gate of the Ducal palace. The sentries suffered me +to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the court-yard, +toward the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left it, was +unlatched. + +It was strange enough, the nearer I drew toward the eventful moment of +my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is possible, +thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball through me, as +the officer said. Be it so--the matter is the sooner ended. If, however, +he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I may be able to assert +my innocence, at least so far as intention went. With this comforting +conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two dragoons in undress were +smoking, as they lay at full length upon a bench, and speedily arose as +I came up. + +"Tell the colonel he's come, Jacques," said one, in a loud voice, and +the other retired; while the speaker, turning toward me, took the bridle +from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word to me. + +"An active beast that," said I, affecting the easiest and coolest +indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I +continued, + +"He has had a bad hand on him, I should say--some one too flurried and +too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse." + +Another stare was all the reply. + +"In a little time, and with a little patience, I'd make him as gentle as +a lamb." + +"I am afraid you'll not have the opportunity," replied he, +significantly; "but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can +discuss the matter together." + +The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to follow +him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion, at which a +sentry stood, and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide left me. An +orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and beckoning to me to +advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me forward, let the heavy +folds close behind me; and now I found myself in a richly-furnished +chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was at supper with a +young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax lights on the table--the +glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain--the richness of the lady's +dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball--were all objects +distracting enough, but they could not turn me from the thought of my +own condition; and I stood still and motionless, while the officer, a +man of about fifty, with dark and stern features, deliberately scanned +me from head to foot. Not a word did he speak, not a gesture did he +make, but sat, with his black eyes actually piercing me. I would have +given any thing for some outbreak of anger, some burst of passion, that +would have put an end to this horrible suspense, but none came; and +there he remained several minutes, as if contemplating something too new +and strange for utterance. "This must have an end," thought I--"here +goes;" and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said, + +"I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major +Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was +cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz +Chaussee as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of +your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded +his dispatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in +which I had ridden with the order." + +"Any thing more?" asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and +guttural with passion. + +"Nothing more, sir." + +"No further remark or observation?" + +"None, sir--at least from the major." + +"What then--from any other?" + +"A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something." + +"What was it?" + +"I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel +Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back." + +"And you replied?" + +"I don't believe I made any reply at the time, sir." + +"But you thought, sir--what were your thoughts?" + +"I thought it very like what I'd have done myself in a like case, +although certain to be sorry for it afterward." + +Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained, or +that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I can not tell, but the +lady here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly +checked by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features +grew sterner and darker every moment. + +"There we differ, sir," said he, "for _I_ should not." At the same +instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small +portfolio, opening which he prepared to write. + +"You will bring this paper," continued he, "to the 'Prevot Marshal.' +To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and +as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labor--" + +"I'll save them the trouble," said I, quietly drawing my sword; but +scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the lady, +who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant the +colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow upon +the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground. + +"You want the 'fusillade'--is that what you want?" cried he, as, in a +towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now +standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes toward me, and at +once broke out into a burst of laughter; such hearty, merry laughter, +that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined +in it. + +"What is it--what do you mean, Laure?" cried the colonel angrily. + +"Don't you see it?" said she, still holding her kerchief to her +face--"can't you perceive it yourself? He has only one mustache!" + +I turned hastily toward the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal +fact revealed--one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek, +while the other was left bare. + +"Is the fellow mad--a mountebank?" said the colonel, whose anger was now +at its white heat. + +"Neither, sir," said I, tearing off my remaining mustache, in shame and +passion together. "Among my other misfortunes I have that of being +young; and what's worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my +error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity +or temper." + +With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every +glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath +that was only current in the days of that army. "This is beyond belief," +cried he. "Come, gredin, you have at least had one piece of good +fortune: you've fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with +you. Your regiment?" + +"The Ninth Hussars." + +"Your name." + +"Tiernay." + +"Tiernay; that's not a French name?" + +"Not originally; we were Irish once." + +"Irish!" said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used. +"Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in +the Royal Guard?" + +"His son, sir." + +"What--his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother's +name, then; what was it?" + +"I never knew which was my mother," said I. "Mademoiselle de la +Lasterie, or--" + +He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck, +pressed me to his bosom. + +"You are little Maurice, then," said he, "the son of my old and valued +comrade! Only think of it, Laure--I was that boy's godfather." + +Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great +effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated +between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me +with attention. It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a +fellow-guardsman with my father, for whom he had ever preserved the +warmest attachment. One of the few survivors of the "Garde du Corps," he +had taken service with the republic, and was already reputed as one of +the most distinguished cavalry officers. + +"Strange enough, Maurice," said he to me, "there was something in your +look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor +father to my memory; and, without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered +you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have ordered +you to be ironed and sent to prison." + +Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not +speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own +adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the lady +enjoyed all the absurdities of my checkered fortune with a keen sense of +the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but so many +resemblances to my father's character, and constantly broke out into +exclamations of "How like him!" "Just what he would have done himself!" +"His own very words!" and so on. + +It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the +mantle-piece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the +hour, and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next +morning, for absence from quarters. + +"Never fret about that, Maurice, I'll return your name as on a special +service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you shall be +named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal." + +"Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?" said the lady, in a half whisper. +"I'm sure he is better worth his epaulets than any I have seen on your +staff." + +"Nay, nay," muttered the colonel, "the rules of the service forbid it. +He'll win his spurs time enough, or I'm much mistaken." + +While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not +help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual +service; and that, proud as I should be of his protection, I would +rather merit it by my conduct, than owe my advancement to favor. + +"Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and +want to see how men comport themselves where the man[oe]uvres are not +arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all +likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which you +may have advanced a stage or so toward those epaulets my fair friend +desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be sent +forward to your own corps. I'll write to the colonel to confirm the rank +of corporal: the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and, if I +mistake not, will soon be actively employed. Come to me to-morrow, +before noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that +are sent forward." + +A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady having +also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my leave, the +happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after hours, and as +indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of discipline as if +the whole code of martial law were a mere fable. + + +CHAPTER X. + +AN ARISTOCRATIC REPUBLICAN + + +If the worthy reader would wish to fancy the happiest of all youthful +beings, let him imagine what I must have been, as, mounted upon Aleppo, +a present from my godfather, with a purse of six shining Louis in my +pocket, and a letter to my colonel, I set forth for Metz. I had +breakfasted with Colonel Mahon, who, amid much good advice for my future +guidance, gave me, half slyly, to understand that the days of Jacobinism +had almost run their course, and that a reactionary movement had already +set in. The republic, he added, was as strong, perhaps stronger than +ever, but that men had grown weary of mob tyranny, and were, day by day, +reverting to the old loyalty, in respect for whatever pretended to +culture, good breeding, and superior intelligence. "As in a shipwreck, +the crew instinctively turn for counsel and direction to the officers, +you will see that France will, notwithstanding all the libertinism of +our age, place her confidence in the men who have been the tried and +worthy servants of former governments. So far, then, from suffering on +account of your gentle blood, Maurice, the time is not distant when it +will do you good service, and when every association that links you with +family and fortune will be deemed an additional guarantee of your good +conduct. I mention these things," continued he, "because your colonel is +what they call a 'Grosbleu,' that is, a coarse-minded, inveterate +republican, detesting aristocracy and all that belongs to it. Take care, +therefore, to give him no just cause for discontent, but be just as +steady in maintaining your position as the descendant of a noble house, +who has not forgotten what were once the privileges of his rank. Write +to me frequently and freely, and I'll take care that you want for +nothing, so far as my small means go, to sustain whatever grade you +occupy. Your own conduct shall decide whether I ever desire to have any +other inheritor than the son of my oldest friend in the world." + +Such were his last words to me, as I set forth, in company with a large +party, consisting, for the most part, of under officers and employees +attached to the medical staff of the army. It was a very joyous and +merry fraternity, and, consisting of ingredients drawn from different +pursuits and arms of the service, infinitely amusing from contrast of +character and habits. My chief associate among them was a young +sous-lieutenant of dragoons, whose age, scarcely much above my own, +joined to a joyous, reckless temperament, soon pointed him out as the +character to suit me: his name was Eugene Santron. In appearance he was +slightly formed, and somewhat under-sized, but with handsome features, +their animation rendered sparkling by two of the wickedest black eyes +that ever glistened and glittered in a human head. I soon saw that, +under the mask of affected fraternity and equality, he nourished the +most profound contempt for the greater number of associates, who, in +truth, were, however "braves gens," the very roughest and least-polished +specimens of the polite nation. In all his intercourse with them, Eugene +affected the easiest tone of camaradere and equality, never assuming in +the slightest, nor making any pretensions to the least superiority on +the score of position or acquirements, but on the whole consoling +himself, as it were, by "playing them off," in their several +eccentricities, and rendering every trait of their vulgarity and +ignorance tributary to his own amusement. Partly from seeing that he +made me an exception to this practice, and partly from his perceiving +the amusement it afforded me, we drew closer toward each other, and +before many days elapsed, had become sworn friends. + +There is probably no feature of character so very attractive to a young +man as frankness. The most artful of all flatteries is that which +addresses itself by candor, and seems at once to select, as it were, by +intuition, the object most suited fur a confidence. Santron carried me +by a _coup de main_ of this kind, as taking my arm one evening, as I was +strolling along the banks of the Moselle, he said, + +"My dear Maurice, it's very easy to see that the society of our +excellent friends yonder is just as distasteful to you as to me. One can +not always be satisfied laughing at their solecisms in breeding and +propriety. One grows weary at last of ridiculing their thousand +absurdities; and then there comes the terrible retribution in the +reflection of what the devil brought me into such company? a question +that, however easily answered, grows more and more intolerable the +oftener it is asked. To be sure, in my case there was little choice in +the matter, for I was not in any way the arbiter of my own fortune. I +saw myself converted from a royal page to a printer's devil by a kind +old fellow, who saved my life by smearing my face with ink, and covering +my scarlet uniform with a filthy blouse; and since that day I have +taken the hint, and often found the lesson a good one--the dirtier the +safer! + +"We were of the old nobility of France, but as the name of our family +was the cause of its extinction, I took care to change it. I see you +don't clearly comprehend me, and so I'll explain myself better. My +father lived unmolested during the earlier days of the revolution, and +might so have continued to the end, if a detachment of the Garde +Republicaine had not been dispatched to our neighborhood of Sarre Louis, +where it was supposed some lurking regard for royalty yet lingered. +These fellows neither knew nor cared for the ancient noblesse of the +country, and one evening a patrol of them stopped my father as he was +taking his evening walk along the ramparts. He would scarcely deign to +notice the insolent 'Qui va la!' of the sentry, a summons _he_ at least +thought superfluous in a town which had known his ancestry for eight or +nine generations. At the repetition of the cry, accompanied by something +that sounded ominous, in the sharp click of a gun-lock, he replied, +haughtily, 'Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trone.' + +"'There are no more marquises in France!' was the savage answer. + +"My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said, 'Saint-Trone.' + +"'We have no saints either,' cried another. + +"'Be it so, my friend,' said he, with mingled pity and disgust. 'I +suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may call +myself Trone.' + +"'We are done with thrones long ago,' shouted they in chorus, 'and we'll +finish you also.' + +"Ay, and they kept their word, too. They shot him that same evening, on +very little other charge than his own name! If I have retained the old +sound of my name, I have given it a more plebeian spelling, which is, +perhaps, just as much of an alteration as any man need submit to for a +period that will pass away so soon." + +"How so, Eugene? you fancy the republic will not endure in France. What, +then, can replace it?" + +"Any thing, every thing; for the future all is possible. We have +annihilated legitimacy, it is true, just as the Indians destroy a +forest, by burning the trees, but the roots remain, and if the soil is +incapable of sending up the giant stems as before, it is equally unable +to furnish a new and different culture. Monarchy is just as firmly +rooted in a Frenchman's heart, but he will have neither patience for its +tedious growth, nor can he submit to restore what has cost him so dearly +to destroy. The consequences will, therefore, be a long and continued +struggle between parties, each imposing upon the nation the form of +government that pleases it in turn. Meanwhile, you and I, and others +like us, must serve whatever is uppermost--the cleverest fellow he who +sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it." + +"Then are you a royalist?" asked I. + +"A royalist! what! stand by a monarch who deserted his aristocracy, and +forgot his own order; defend a throne that he had reduced to the +condition of a fauteuil de Bourgeois?" + +"You are then for the republic?" + +"For what robbed me of my inheritance--what degraded me from my rank, +and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a cause +to uphold?" + +"You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps," said I, scarcely +knowing what form of faith to attribute to him. + +"In an army where my superiors are the very dregs of the people; where +the canaille have the command, and the chivalry of France is represented +by a sans-culotte!" + +"The cause of the Church--" + +A burst of ribald laughter cut me short, and laying his hand on my +shoulder, he looked me full in the face, while, with a struggle to +recover his gravity he said, + +"I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not mean +this for earnest! Why, my dear boy, don't you talk of the Eleusinian +Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle, of Alchemy, Astrology--of any thing, in +short, of which the world, having amused itself, has, at length, grown +weary? Can't you see that the Church has passed away, and these good +priests have gone the same road as their predecessors. Is any acuteness +wanting to show that there is an end of this superstition that has +enthralled men's minds for a couple of thousand years? No, no, their +game is up, and forever. These pious men, who despised this world, and +yet had no other hold upon the minds of others than by the very craft +and subtlety that world taught them. These heavenly souls, whose whole +machinations revolved about earthly objects and the successes of this +groveling planet! Fight for _them_! No, _parbleu_; we owe them but +little love or affection. Their whole aim in life has been to disgust +one with whatever is enjoyable, and the best boon they have conferred +upon humanity, that bright thought, of locking up the softest eyes and +fairest cheeks of France in cloisters and nunneries! I can forgive our +glorious revolution much of its wrong when I think of the Pretre; not +but that they could have knocked down the Church without suffering the +ruins to crush the chateau!" + +Such, in brief, were the opinions my companion held, and of which I was +accustomed to hear specimens every day; at first, with displeasure and +repugnance; later on, with more of toleration; and, at last, with a +sense of amusement at the singularity of the notions, or the dexterity +with which he defended them. The poison of his doctrines was the more +insidious, because, mingled with a certain dash of good nature, and a +reckless, careless easiness of disposition, always attractive to very +young men. His reputation for courage, of which he had given signal +proofs, elevated him in my esteem; and, ere long, all my misgivings +about him, in regard of certain blemishes, gave way before my admiration +of his heroic bearing, and a readiness to confront peril, wherever to +be found. + +I had made him the confidant of my own history, of which I told him +every thing, save the passages which related to the Pere Michel. These I +either entirely glossed over, or touched so lightly as to render +unimportant: a dread of ridicule restraining me from any mention of +those earlier scenes of my life, which were alone of all those I should +have avowed with pride. Perhaps it was from mere accident--perhaps some +secret shame to conceal my forlorn and destitute condition may have had +its share in the motive; but, for some cause or other, I gave him to +understand that my acquaintance with Colonel Mahon had dated back to a +much earlier period than a few days before, and, the impression once +made, a sense of false shame led me to support it. + +"Mahon can be a good friend to you," said Eugene; "he stands well with +all parties. The Convention trust him, the sansculottes are afraid of +him, and the few men of family whom the guillotine has left look up to +him as one of their stanchest adherents. Depend upon it, therefore, your +promotion is safe enough, even if there were not a field open for every +man who seeks the path to eminence. The great point, however, is to get +service with the army of Italy. These campaigns here are as barren and +profitless as the soil they are fought over; but, in the south, Maurice, +in the land of dark eyes and tresses, under the blue skies, or beneath +the trelliced vines, there are rewards of victory more glorious than a +grateful country, as they call it, ever bestowed. Never forget, my boy, +that you or I have no Cause! It is to us a matter of indifference what +party triumphs, or who is uppermost. The government may change +to-morrow, and the day after, and so on for a month long, and yet _we_ +remain just as we were. Monarchy, Commonwealth, Democracy--what you +will--may rule the hour, but the sous-lieutenant is but the servant who +changes his master. Now, in revenge for all this, we have one +compensation, which is, to 'live for the day.' To make the most of that +brief hour of sunshine granted us, and to taste of every pleasure, to +mingle in every dissipation, and enjoy every excitement that we can. +This is my philosophy, Maurice, and just try it." + +Such was the companion with whom chance threw me in contact, and I +grieve to think how rapidly his influence gained the mastery over me. + + +CHAPTER XI. + +"THE PASSAGE OF THE RHINE." + + +I parted from my friend Eugene at Treves, where he remained in garrison, +while I was sent forward to Coblentz to join my regiment, at that time +forming part of Ney's division. + +Were I to adhere in my narrative to the broad current of great events, I +should here have to speak of that grand scheme of tactics by which +Kleber, advancing from the Lower Rhine, engaged the attention of the +Austrian Grand Duke, in order to give time and opportunity for Hoche's +passage of the river at Strasbourg, and the commencement of that +campaign which had for its object the subjugation of Germany. I have +not, however, the pretension to chronicle those passages which history +has forever made memorable, even were my own share in them of a more +distinguished character. The insignificance of my station must, +therefore, be my apology if I turn from the description of great and +eventful incidents to the humble narrative of my own career. + +Whatever the contents of Colonel Mahon's letter, they did not plead very +favorably for me with Colonel Hacque, my new commanding officer; +neither, to all seeming, did my own appearance weigh any thing in my +favor. Raising his eyes at intervals from the letter to stare at me, he +uttered some broken phrases of discontent and displeasure; at last he +said--"What's the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you +presented it to me?" + +"As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel," said I calmly, "I can +scarcely answer the question." + +"Well, sir, it informs me that you are the son of a certain Count +Tiernay; who has long since paid the price of his nobility; and that +being a special protege of the writer, he takes occasion to present you +to me; now I ask again, with what object?" + +"I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honor which I now enjoy--to become +personally known to you." + +"I know every soldier under my command, sir," said he, rebukingly, "as +you will soon learn if you remain in my regiment. I have no need of +recommendatory letters on that score. As to your grade of corporal, it +is not confirmed; time enough when your services shall have shown that +you deserve promotion. Parbleu, sir, you'll have to show other claims +than your ci-devant countship." + +"Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir, may I be permitted to retain him as +a regimental mount?" asked I, timidly. + +"We want horses--what is he like?" + +"Three quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir." + +"Then of course, unfit for service and field man[oe]uvres. Send him to +the Etat Major. The Republic will find a fitting mount for _you_; you +may retire." + +And I did retire, with a heart almost bursting between anger and +disappointment. What a future did this opening present to me! What a +realization this of all my flattering hopes! + +This sudden reverse of fortune, for it was nothing less, did not render +me more disposed to make the best of my new condition, nor see in the +most pleasing light the rough and rude fraternity among which I was +thrown. The Ninth Hussars were reputed to be an excellent service-corps, +but, off duty, contained some of the worst ingredients of the army. +Play, and its consequence dueling, filled up every hour not devoted to +regimental duty; and low as the tone of manners and morals stood in the +service generally, "Hacques Tapageurs," as they were called, enjoyed the +unflattering distinction of being the leaders. Self-respect was a +quality utterly unknown among them--none felt ashamed at the disgrace of +punishment--and as all knew that, at the approach of the enemy, prison +doors would open, and handcuffs fall off, they affected to think the +Salle de Police was a pleasant alternative to the fatigue and worry of +duty. These habits not only stripped soldiering of all its chivalry, but +robbed freedom itself of all its nobility. These men saw nothing but +licentiousness in their newly-won liberty. Their "Equality" was the +permission to bring every thing down to a base and unworthy standard; +their "Fraternity," the appropriation of what belonged to one richer +than themselves. + +It would give me little pleasure to recount, and the reader, in all +likelihood, as little to hear, the details of my life among such +associates. They are the passages of my history most painful to recall, +and least worthy of being remembered; nor can I even yet write without +shame the confession, how rapidly _their_ habits became _my own_. +Eugene's teachings had prepared me, in a manner, for their lessons. His +skepticism extending to every thing and every one, had made me +distrustful of all friendship, and suspicious of whatever appeared a +kindness. Vulgar association, and daily intimacy with coarsely-minded +men, soon finished what he had begun; and in less time than it took me +to break my troop-horse to regimental drill, I had been myself "broke +in" to every vice and abandoned habit of my companions. + +It was not in my nature to do things by halves; and thus I became, and +in a brief space too, the most inveterate Tapageur of the whole +regiment. There was not a wild prank or plot in which I was not +foremost, not a breach of the discipline unaccompanied by my name or +presence, and more than half the time of our march to meet the enemy, I +passed in double irons under the guard of the Provost-marshal. + +It was at this pleasant stage of my education that our brigade arrived +in Strasbourg, as part of the corps d'armee under the command of General +Moreau. + +He had just succeeded to the command on the dismissal of Pichegru, and +found the army not only dispirited by the defeats of the past campaign, +but in a state of rudest indiscipline and disorganization. If left to +himself, he would have trusted much to time and circumstances for the +reform of abuses that had been the growth of many months long. But +Regnier, the second in command, was made of "different stuff;" he was a +harsh and stern disciplinarian, who rarely forgave a first, never a +second offense, and who deeming the Salle de Police as an incumbrance to +an army on service, which, besides, required a guard of picked men, +that might be better employed elsewhere, usually gave the preference to +the shorter sentence of "four spaces and a fusillade." Nor was he +particular in the classification of those crimes he thus expiated: from +the most trivial excess to the wildest scheme of insubordination, all +came under the one category. More than once, as we drew near to +Strasbourg, I heard the project of a mutiny discussed, day after day. +Some one or other would denounce the "scelerat Regnier," and proclaim +his readiness to be the executioner; but the closer we drew to +head-quarters, the more hushed and subdued became these mutterings, till +at last they ceased altogether; and a dark and forboding dread succeeded +to all our late boastings and denunciations. + +This at first surprised and then utterly disgusted me with my +companions. Brave as they were before the enemy, had they no courage for +their own countrymen? Was all their valor the offspring of security, or +could they only be rebellious when the penalty had no terrors for them? +Alas! I was very young, and did not then know that men are never strong +against the right, and that a bad cause is always a weak one. + +It was about the middle of June when we reached Strasbourg, where now +about forty thousand troops were assembled. I shall not readily forget +the mingled astonishment and disappointment our appearance excited as +the regiment entered the town. The Tapageurs, so celebrated for all +their terrible excesses and insubordination, were seen to be a fine +corps of soldier-like fellows, their horses in high condition, their +equipments and arms in the very best order. Neither did our conduct at +all tally with the reputation that preceded us. All was orderly and +regular in the several billets; the parade was particularly observed; +not a man late at the night muster. What was the cause of this sudden +and remarkable change? Some said we were marching against the enemy; but +the real explanation lay in a few words of a general order read to us by +our colonel the day before we entered the city: + +"The 9th Hussars have obtained the unworthy reputation of being an +ill-disciplined and ill-conducted regiment, relying upon their +soldier-like qualities in face of the enemy to cover the disgrace +of-their misconduct in quarters. This is a mistake that must be +corrected. All Frenchmen are brave; none can arrogate to themselves any +prerogative of valor. If any wish to establish such a belief, a campaign +can always attest it. If any profess to think so without such proof, and +acting in conformity with this impression, disobey their orders or +infringe regimental discipline, I will have them shot. + + "REGNIER, + "_Adjutant-general_." + +This was, at least, a very straight-forward and intelligible +announcement, and as such my comrades generally acknowledged it. I, +however regarded it as a piece of monstrous and intolerable tyranny, +and sought to make converts to my opinion by declaiming about the rights +of Frenchmen, the liberty of free discussion, the glorious privilege of +equality, and so on; but these arguments sounded faint in presence of +the drum-head; and while some slunk away from the circle around me, +others significantly hinted that they would accept no part of the danger +my doctrines might originate. + +However I might have respected my comrades, had they been always the +well-disciplined body I now saw them, I confess, that this sudden +conversion from fear, was in nowise to my taste, and rashly confounded +their dread of punishment with a base and ignoble fear of death. "And +these are the men," thought I, "who talk of their charging home through +the dense squares of Austria--who have hunted the leopard into the sea! +and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps!" + +A bold rebel, whatever may be the cause against which he revolts, will +always be sure of a certain ascendency. Men are prone to attribute power +to pretension, and he who stands foremost in the breach will at least +win the suffrages of those whose cause he assumes to defend. In this way +if happened that exactly as my comrades fell in my esteem, I was +elevated in theirs; and while I took a very depreciating estimate of +their courage, _they_ conceived a very exalted opinion of mine. + +It was altogether inexplicable to see these men, many of them the +bronzed veterans of a dozen campaigns--the wounded and distinguished +soldiers in many a hard-fought field, yielding up their opinions and +sacrificing their convictions to a raw and untried stripling, who had +never yet seen an enemy. + +With a certain fluency of speech I possessed also a readiness at picking +up information, and arraying the scattered fragments of news into a +certain consistence, which greatly imposed upon my comrades. A quick eye +for man[oe]uvres, and a shrewd habit of combining in my own mind the +various facts that came before me, made me appear to them a perfect +authority on military matters, of which I talked, I shame to say, with +all the confidence and presumption of an accomplished general. A few +lucky guesses, and a few half hints, accidentally confirmed, completed +all that was wanting; and what says "Le Jeune Maurice," was the +inevitable question that followed each piece of flying gossip, or every +rumor that rose of a projected movement. + +I have seen a good deal of the world since that time, and I am bound to +confess, that not a few of the great reputations I have witnessed, have +stood upon grounds very similar, and not a whit more stable than my own. +A bold face, a ready tongue, a promptness to support, with my right +hand, whatever my lips were pledged to, and, above all, good luck, made +me the king of my company; and although that sovereignty only extended +to half a squadron of hussars, it was a whole universe to me. + +So stood matters when, on the 23d of June, orders came for the whole +_corps d'armee_ to hold itself in readiness for a forward movement. +Rations for two days were distributed, and ammunition given out, as if +for an attack of some duration. Meanwhile, to obviate any suspicion of +our intentions, the gates of Strasbourg, on the eastern side, were +closed--all egress in that direction forbidden--and couriers and +estafettes sent off toward the north, as if to provide for the march of +our force in that direction. The arrival of various orderly dragoons +during the previous night, and on that morning early, told of a great +attack in force on Manheim, about sixty miles lower down the Rhine, and +the cannonade of which some avowed that they could hear at that +distance. The rumor, therefore, seemed confirmed, that we were ordered +to move to the north, to support this assault. + +The secret dispatch of a few dismounted dragoons and some rifle-men to +the banks of the Rhine, however, did not strike me as according with +this view, and particularly as I saw that, although all were equipped, +and in readiness to move, the order to march was not given, a delay very +unlikely to be incurred, if we were destined to act as the reserve of +the force already engaged. + +Directly opposite to us, on the right bank of the river, and separated +from it by a low flat, of about two miles in extent, stood the fortress +of Kehl, at that time garrisoned by a strong Austrian force; the banks +of the river, and the wooded islands in the stream, which communicated +with the right by bridges, or fordable passes, being also held by the +enemy in force. + +These we had often seen, by the aid of telescopes, from the towers and +spires of Strasbourg; and now I remarked that the general and his staff +seemed more than usually intent on observing their movements. This fact, +coupled with the not less significant one, that no preparations for a +defense of Strasbourg were in progress, convinced me that, instead of +moving down the Rhine to the attack on Manheim, the plan of our general +was, to cross the river where we were, and make a dash at the fortress +of Kehl. I was soon to receive the confirmation of my suspicion, as the +orders came for two squadrons of the ninth to proceed, dismounted, to +the bank of the Rhine, and, under shelter of the willows, to conceal +themselves there. Taking possession of the various skiffs and fishing +boats along the bank, we were distributed in small parties, to one of +which, consisting of eight men under the orders of a corporal, I +belonged. + +About an hour's march brought us to the river side, in a little clump of +alder willows, where, moored to a stake, lay a fishing boat with two +short oars in her. Lying down beneath the shade, for the afternoon was +hot and sultry, some of us smoked, some chatted, and a few dozed away +the hours that somehow seemed unusually slow in passing. + +There was a certain dogged sullenness about my companions, which +proceeded from their belief, that we and all who remained at Strasbourg, +were merely left to occupy the enemy's attention, while greater +operations were to be carried on elsewhere. + +"You see what it is to be a condemned corps," muttered one; "it's little +matter what befalls the old ninth, even should they be cut to pieces." + +"They didn't think so at Enghein," said another, "when we rode down the +Austrian cuirassiers." + +"Plain enough," cried a third, "we are to have skirmishers' duty here, +without skirmishers' fortune in having a force to fall back upon." + +"Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?" broke in +a fourth ironically. + +"I'm of the same mind still," rejoined I, coolly, "the general is not +thinking of a retreat; he has no intention of deserting a +well-garrisoned, well-provisioned fortress. Let the attack on Manheim +have what success it may, Strasbourg will be held still. I overheard +Colonel Guyon remark, that the waters of the Rhine have fallen three +feet since the drought set in, and Regnier replied, 'that we must lose +no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.' Now what could +that mean, but the intention to cross over yonder?" + +"Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!" broke in the corporal. + +"The French army have done bolder things before now!" was my reply, and +whatever the opinion of my comrades, the flattery ranged them on _my_ +side. Perhaps the corporal felt it beneath his dignity to discuss +tactics with an inferior, or perhaps he felt unable to refute the +specious pretensions I advanced; in any case he turned away, and either +slept, or affected sleep, while I strenuously labored to convince my +companions that my surmise was correct. + +I repeated all my former arguments about the decrease in the Rhine, +showing that the river was scarcely two-thirds of its habitual breadth, +that the nights were now dark, and well suited for a surprise, that the +columns which issued from the town took their departure with a pomp and +parade far more likely to attract the enemy's attention than escape his +notice, and were, therefore, the more likely to be destined for some +secret expedition, of which all this display was but the blind. These, +and similar facts, I grouped together with a certain ingenuity, which, +if it failed to convince, at least silenced my opponents. And now the +brief twilight, if so short a struggle between day and darkness deserved +the name, passed off, and night suddenly closed around us--a night black +and starless, for a heavy mass of lowering cloud seemed to unite with +the dense vapor that arose from the river, and the low-lying grounds +alongside of it. The air was hot and sultry, too, like the precursor of +a thunder-storm, and the rush of the stream as it washed among the +willows sounded preternaturally loud in the stillness. + +A hazy, indistinct flame, the watch-fire of the enemy, on the island of +Eslar, was the only object visible in the murky darkness. After a while, +however, we could detect another fire on a smaller island, a short +distance higher up the stream. This, at first dim and uncertain, blazed +up after a while, and at length we descried the dark shadows of men as +they stood around it. + +It was but the day before that I had been looking on a map of the Rhine, +and remarked to myself that this small island, little more than a mere +rook in the stream, was so situated as to command the bridge between +Eslar and the German bank, and I could not help wondering that the +Austrians had never taken the precaution to strengthen it, or at least +place a gun there, to enfilade the bridge. Now, to my extreme +astonishment, I saw it occupied by the soldiery, who, doubtless, were +artillery, as in such a position small arms would prove of slight +efficiency. As I reflected over this, wondering within myself if any +intimation of our movements could have reached the enemy, I heard along +the ground on which I was lying the peculiar tremulous, dull sound +communicated by a large body of men marching. The measured tramp could +not be mistaken, and as I listened I could perceive that a force was +moving toward the river from different quarters. The rumbling roll of +heavy guns and the clattering noise of cavalry were also easily +distinguished, and awaking one of my comrades I called his attention to +the sounds. + +"Parbleu!" said he, "thou'rt right; they're going to make a dash at the +fortress, and there will be hot work ere morning. What say you now, +corporal, has Maurice hit it off this time?" + +"That's as it may be," growled the other, sulkily; "guessing is easy +work ever for such as thee! but if he be so clever, let him tell us why +are we stationed along the river's bank in small detachments. We have +had no orders to observe the enemy, nor to report upon any thing that +might go forward; nor do I see with what object we were to secure the +fishing boats; troops could never be conveyed across the Rhine in skin's +like these!" + +"I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen +giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack," replied I. + +"Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided on," +said he, contemptuously. "For a fellow that never saw the smoke of an +enemy's gun thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!" + +"Yonder is the best answer to your taunt," said I, as in a little bend +of the stream beside us, two boats were seen to pull under the shelter +of the tall alders, from which the clank of arms could be plainly heard; +and now another larger launch swept past, the dark shadows of a dense +crowd of men showing above the gunwale. + +"They are embarking, they are certainly embarking," now ran from mouth +to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river's bank they were speedily +"told off" in separate divisions of which some were to lead the attack, +others to follow, and a third portion to remain as a reserve in the +event of a repulse. + +The leading boat was manned entirely by volunteers, and I could hear +from where I lay the names called aloud as the men stepped out from the +ranks. I could hear that the first point of attack was the island of +Eslar. So far there was a confirmation of my own guessing, and I did not +hesitate to assume the full credit of my skill from my comrades. In +truth, they willingly conceded all or even more than I asked for. Not a +stir was heard, not a sight seen, not a movement made of which I was not +expected to tell the cause and the import; and knowing that to sustain +my influence there was nothing for it but to affect a thorough +acquaintance with every thing, I answered all their questions boldly and +unhesitatingly. I need scarcely observe that the corporal in comparison +sunk into down-right insignificance. He had already shown himself a +false guide, and none asked his opinion further, and I became the ruling +genius of the hour. The embarkation now went briskly forward, several +light field guns were placed in the boats, and two or three large rafts, +capable of containing two companies each, were prepared to be towed +across by boats. + +Exactly as the heavy hammer of the cathedral struck one, the first boat +emerged from the willows, and darting rapidly forward, headed for the +middle of the stream; another and another in quick succession followed, +and speedily were lost to us in the gloom; and now, two four-oared +skiffs stood out together, having a raft, with two guns, in tow; by some +mischance, however, they got entangled in a side current, and the raft +swerving to one side, swept past the boats, carrying them down the +stream along with it. Our attention was not suffered to dwell on this +mishap, for at the same moment the flash and rattle of fire-arms told us +the battle had begun. Two or three isolated shots were first heard, and +then a sharp platoon fire, accompanied by a wild cheer, that we well +knew came from our own fellows. One deep mellow boom of a large gun +resounded amid the crash, and a slight streak of flame, higher up the +stream, showed that the shot came from the small island I have already +spoken of. + +"Listen, lads," said I, "that came from the 'Fels Insel.' If they are +firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer sorely +from it. By Jove there is a crash!" + +As I was speaking a rattling noise like the sound of clattering timber +was heard, and with it a sharp, shrill cry of agony, and all was hushed. + +"Let's at them, boys; they can't be much above our own number. The +island is a mere rock," cried I to my comrades. + +"Who commands this party?" said the corporal, "you or I?" + +"You, if you lead us against the enemy," said I; "but I'll take it if +my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads--yes or +no--now is the time to speak." + +"We're ready," cried three, springing forward, with one impulse. + +At the instant I jumped into the skiff, the others took their places, +and then came a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, and a seventh, leaving the +corporal alone on the bank. + +"Come along, corporal," cried I, "we'll win your epaulets for you;" but +he turned away without a word; and not waiting further, I pushed out the +skiff, and sent her skimming down the stream. + +"Pull steady, boys, and silently," said I; "we must gain the middle of +the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once +beneath the trees, we'll give them a volley, and then the bayonet. +Remember, lads, no flinching; it's as well to die here as be shot by old +Regnier to-morrow." + +The conflict on the Eslar island was now, to all seeming, at its height. +The roll of musketry was incessant, and sheets of flame, from time to +time, streaked the darkness above the river. + +"Stronger and together, boys--once more--there it is--we are in the +current, now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines--see that the +priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusilade. Lie still +now, and wait for the word to fire." + +The spreading foliage of the nut-trees was rustling over our heads as I +spoke, and the sharp skiff, borne on the current, glided smoothly on +till her bow struck the rock. With high-beating hearts we clambered up +the little cliff; and as we reached the top, beheld immediately beneath +us, in a slight dip of the ground, several figures around a gun, which +they were busy in adjusting. I looked right and left to see that my +little party were all assembled, and without waiting for more, gave the +order--fire! + +We were within pistol range, and the discharge was a deadly one. The +terror, however, was not less complete; for all who escaped death fled +from the spot, and dashing through the brushwood, made for the shallow +part of the stream, between the island and the right bank. + +Our prize was a brass eight pounder, and an ample supply of ammunition. +The gun was pointed toward the middle of the stream, where the current +being strongest, the boats would necessarily be delayed; and in all +likelihood some of our gallant comrades had already experienced its +fatal fire. To wheel it right about, and point it on the Eslar bridge, +was the work of a couple of minutes; and while three of our little party +kept up a steady fire on the retreating enemy, the others loaded the gun +and prepared to fire. + +Our distance from the Eslar island and bridge, as well as I could judge +from the darkness, might be about two hundred and fifty yards; and as we +had the advantage of a slight elevation of ground, our position was +admirable. + +"Wait patiently, lads," said I, restraining, with difficulty, the +burning ardor of my men. "Wait patiently, till the retreat has commenced +over the bridge. The work is too hot to last much longer on the island: +to fire upon them there, would be to risk our own men as much as the +enemy. See what long flashes of flame break forth among the brushwood: +and listen to the cheering now. That was a French cheer! and there goes +another! Look! look, the bridge is darkening already! That was a +bugle-call, and they are in full retreat. Now, lads--now!" + +As I spoke; the gun exploded, and the instant after we heard the +crashing rattle of the timber, as the shot struck the bridge, and +splintered the wood-work in all directions. + +"The range is perfect, lads," cried I. "Load and fire with all speed." + +Another shot, followed by a terrific scream from the bridge, told how +the work was doing. Oh! the savage exultation, the fiendish joy of my +heart, as I drank in that cry of agony, and called upon my men to load +faster. + +Six shots were poured in with tremendous precision and effect, and the +seventh tore away one of the main supports of the bridge, and down went +the densely crowded column into the Rhine; at the same instant, the guns +of our launches opened a destructive fire upon the banks, which soon +were swept clean of the enemy. + +High up on the stream, and for nearly a mile below also, we could see +the boats of our army pulling in for shore; the crossing of the Rhine +had been effected, and we now prepared to follow. + +_To be continued._ + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +AN AERIAL VOYAGE. + + +Of all the wonderful discoveries which modern science has given birth +to, there is perhaps not one which has been applied to useful purposes +on a scale so unexpectedly contracted as that by which we are enabled to +penetrate into the immense ocean of air with which our globe is +surrounded, and to examine the physical phenomena which are manifested +in its upper strata. One would have supposed that the moment the power +was conferred upon us to leave the surface of the earth, and rise above +the clouds into the superior regions, a thousand eager inquirers would +present themselves as agents in researches in a region so completely +untrodden, if such a term may here be permitted. + +Nevertheless, this great invention of aerial navigation has remained +almost barren. If we except the celebrated aerial voyage of Gay-Lussac +in 1804, the balloon, with its wonderful powers, has been allowed to +degenerate into a mere theatrical exhibition, exciting the vacant and +unreflecting wonder of the multitude. Instead of being an instrument of +philosophical research, it has become a mere expedient for profit in +the hands of charlatans, so much so, that, on the occasion to which we +are now about to advert, the persons who engaged in the project incurred +failure, and risked their lives, from their aversion to avail themselves +of the experience of those who had made aerostation a mere spectacle for +profit. They thought that to touch pitch they must be defiled, and +preferred danger and the risk of failure to such association. + +It is now about two months since M. Barral, a chemist of some +distinction at Paris, and M. Bixio, a member of the Legislative Assembly +(whose name will be remembered in connection with the bloody +insurrection of June, 1848, when, bravely and humanely discharging his +duty in attempting to turn his guilty fellow-citizens from their course, +he nearly shared the fate of the Archbishop, and was severely wounded), +resolved upon making a grand experiment with a view to observe and +record the meteorological phenomena of the strata of the atmosphere, at +a greater height and with more precision than had hitherto been +accomplished. But from the motives which we have explained, the project +was kept secret, and it was resolved that the experiment should be made +at an hour of the morning, and under circumstances, which would prevent +it from degenerating into an exhibition. MM. Arago and Regnault +undertook to supply the aerial voyagers with a programme of the proposed +performance, and instruments suited to the projected observations. M. +Arago prepared the programme, in which was stated clearly what +observations were to be made at every stage of the ascentional movement. + +It was intended that the balloon should be so managed as to come to rest +at certain altitudes, when barometric, thermometric, hygrometric, +polariscopic, and other observations, were to be taken and noted; the +balloon after each series of observations to make a new ascent. + +The precious instruments by which these observations were to be made +were prepared, and in some cases actually fabricated and graduated, by +the hands of M. Regnault himself. + +To provide the balloon and its appendages, recourse was had to some of +those persons who have followed the fabrication of balloons as a sort of +trade, for the purposes of exhibition. + +In this part of their enterprise the voyagers were not so fortunate, as +we shall presently see, and still less so in having taken the resolution +to ascend alone, unaccompanied by a practiced aeronaut. It is probable +that if they had selected a person, such as Mr. Green, for example, who +had already made frequent ascents for the mere purpose of exhibition, +and who had become familiar with the practical management of the +machine, a much more favorable result would have ensued. As it was, the +two voyagers ascended for the first time, and placed themselves in a +position like that of a natural philosopher, who, without previous +practice, should undertake to drive a locomotive, with its train on a +railway at fifty miles an hour, rejecting the humble but indispensable +aid of an experienced engine-driver. + +The necessary preparations having been made, and the programme and the +instruments prepared, it was resolved to make the ascent from the garden +behind the Observatory at Paris, a plateau of some elevation, and free +from buildings and other obstacles, at day-break of Saturday, the 29th +June. At midnight the balloon was brought to the spot, but the inflation +was not completed until nearly 10 o'clock, A.M. + +It has since been proved that the balloon was old and worn, and that it +ought not to have been supplied for such an occasion. + +It was obviously patched, and it is now known that two seamstresses were +employed during the preceding day in mending it, and some stitching even +was found necessary after it had arrived at the Observatory. + +The net-work which included and supported the car was new, and not +originally made with a view to the balloon it inclosed, the consequences +of which will be presently seen. + +The night, between Friday and Saturday, was one of continual rain, and +the balloon and its netting became thoroughly saturated with moisture. +By the time the inflation had been completed, it became evident that the +net-work was too small; but in the anxiety to carry into effect the +project, the consequences of this were most unaccountably overlooked. We +say unaccountably, because it is extremely difficult to conceive how +experimental philosophers and practiced observers, like MM. Arago and +Regnault, to say nothing of numerous subordinate scientific agents who +were present, did not anticipate what must have ensued in the upper +regions of the air. Nevertheless, such was the fact. + +On the morning of Saturday, the instruments being duly deposited in the +car, the two enterprising voyagers placed themselves in it, and the +balloon, which previously had been held down by the strength of twenty +men, was liberated, and left to plunge into the ocean of air, at +twenty-seven minutes after ten o'clock. + +The weather, as we have already stated, was unfavorable, the sky being +charged with clouds. As it was the purpose of this project to examine +much higher regions of the atmosphere than those which it had been +customary for aeronautic exhibitors to rise to, the arrangements of +ballast and inflation which were adopted, were such as to cause the +ascent to be infinitely more rapid than in the case of public +exhibitions; in short, the balloon darted upward with the speed of an +arrow, and in two minutes from the moment it was liberated, that is to +say, at twenty-nine minutes past ten, plunged into the clouds, and was +withdrawn from the anxious view of the distinguished persons assembled +in the garden of the Observatory. + +While passing through this dense cloud, the voyagers carefully observed +the barometer, and knew by the rapid fall of the mercury that they were +ascending with a great velocity. Fifteen minutes elapsed before they +emerged from the cloud; when they did so, however, a glorious spectacle +presented itself. The balloon, emerging from the superior surface of the +cloud, rose under a splendid canopy of azure, and shone with the rays of +a brilliant sun. The cloud which they had just passed, was soon seen +several thousand feet below them. From the observations taken with the +barometer and thermometer, it was afterward found that the thickness of +the cloud through which they had passed, was 9800 feet--a little less +than two miles. On emerging from the cloud, our observers examined the +barometer, and found that the mercury had fallen to the height of 18 +inches; the thermometer showed a temperature of 45 deg. Fahr. The height of +the balloon above the level of the sea was then 14,200 feet. At the +moment of emerging from the cloud, M. Barral made polariscopic +observation, which established a fact foreseen by M. Arago, that the +light reflected from the surface of the clouds, was unpolarized light. + +The continued and somewhat considerable fall of the barometer informed +the observers that their ascent still continued to be rapid. The rain +which had previously fallen, and which wetted the balloon, and saturated +the cordage forming the net-work, had now ceased, or, to speak more +correctly, the balloon had passed above the region in which the rain +prevailed. The strong action of the sun, and almost complete dryness of +the air in which the vast machine now floated, caused the evaporation of +the moisture which enveloped it. The cordage and the balloon becoming +dry, and thus relieved of a certain weight of liquid, was affected as +though a quantity of ballast had been thrown out, and it darted upward +with increased velocity. + +It was within one minute of eleven, when the observers finding the +barometer cease the upward motion, and finding that the machine +oscillated round a position of equilibrium by noticing the bearing of +the sun, they found the epoch favorable for another series of +observations. The barometer there indicated that the balloon had +attained the enormous height of 19,700 feet. The moisture which had +invested the thermometer had frozen upon it, and obstructed, for the +moment, observations with it. It was while M. Barral was occupied in +wiping the icicles from it, that, turning his eye upward, he beheld what +would have been sufficient to have made the stoutest heart quail with +fear. + +To explain the catastrophe which at this moment, and at nearly 20,000 +feet above the surface of the earth, and about a mile above the highest +strata of the clouds, menaced the voyagers, we must recur to what we +have already stated in reference to the balloon and the net-work. As it +was intended to ascend to an unusual altitude, it was of course known, +that in consequence of the highly rarefied state of the atmosphere, and +its very much diminished pressure, the gas contained in the balloon +would have a great tendency to distend, and, consequently, space must be +allowed for the play of this effect. The balloon, therefore, at +starting, was not nearly filled with gas, and yet, as we have explained +it, very nearly filled the net-work which inclosed it. Is it not strange +that some among the scientific men present did not foresee, that when it +would ascend into a highly rarefied atmosphere, it would necessarily +distend itself to such a magnitude, that the netting would be utterly +insufficient to contain it? Such effect, so strangely unforeseen, now +disclosed itself practically realized to the astonished and terrified +eyes of M. Barral. + +The balloon, in fact, had so swelled as not only completely to fill the +netting which covered it, but to force its way, in a frightful manner, +through the hoop under it, from which the car, and the voyagers were +suspended. + +In short, the inflated silk protruding downward through the hoop, now +nearly touched the heads of the voyagers. In this emergency the remedy +was sufficiently obvious. + +The valve must be opened, and the balloon breathed, so as to relieve it +from the over-inflation. Now, it is well known, that the valve in this +machine is placed in a sort of sleeve, of a length more or less +considerable, connected with the lower part of the balloon, through +which sleeve the string-of the valve passes. M. Barral, on looking for +this sleeve, found that it had disappeared. Further search showed that +the balloon being awkwardly and improperly placed in the inclosing +net-work, the valve-sleeve, instead of hanging clear of the hoop, had +been gathered up in the net-work above the hoop; so that, to reach it, +it would have been necessary to have forced a passage between the +inflated silk and the hoop. + +Now, here it must be observed, that such an incident could never have +happened to the most commonly-practiced balloon exhibitor, whose first +measure, before leaving the ground, would be to secure access to, and +the play of the valve. This, however, was, in the present case, fatally +overlooked. It was, in fine, now quite apparent, that either of two +effects must speedily ensue--viz.: either the car and the voyagers would +be buried in the inflated silk which was descending upon them, and thus +they would he suffocated, or that the force of distention must burst the +balloon. If a rupture were to take place in that part immediately over +the car, then the voyagers would be suffocated by an atmosphere of +hydrogen; if it should take place at a superior part, then the balloon, +rapidly discharged of its gas, would be precipitated to the earth, and +the destruction of its occupants rendered inevitable. + +Under these circumstances the voyagers did not lose their presence of +mind, but calmly considered their situation, and promptly decided upon +the course to be adopted. M. Barral climbed up the side of the car, and +the net-work suspending it, and forced his way through the hoop, so as +to catch hold of the valve-sleeve. In this operation, however, he was +obliged to exercise a force which produced a rent in a part of the silk +below the hoop, and immediately over the car. In a moment the hydrogen +gas issued with terrible force from the balloon, and the voyagers found +themselves involved in an atmosphere of it. + +Respiration became impossible, and they were nearly suffocated. A glance +at the barometer, however, showed them that they were falling to the +ground with the most fearful rapidity. + +During a few moments they experienced all the anguish attending +asphyxia. From this situation, however, they were relieved more speedily +than they could then have imagined possible; but the cause which +relieved them soon became evident, and inspired them with fresh terrors. + +M. Barral, from the indications of the barometer, knew that they were +being precipitated to the surface of the earth with a velocity so +prodigious, that the passage of the balloon through the atmosphere +dispelled the mass of hydrogen with which they had been surrounded. + +It was, nevertheless, evident that the small rent which had been +produced in the lower part of the balloon, by the abortive attempt to +obtain access to the valve, could not have been the cause of a fall so +rapid. + +M. Barral, accordingly, proceeded to examine the external surface of the +balloon, as far as it was visible from the car, and, to his astonishment +and terror, he discovered that a rupture had taken place, and that a +rent was made, about five feet in length, along the equator of the +machine, through which, of course, the gas was now escaping in immense +quantities. Here was the cause of the frightful precipitation of the +descent, and a source of imminent danger in the fall. + +M. Barral promptly decided on the course to be taken. + +It was resolved to check the descent by the discharge of the ballast, +and every other article of weight. But this process, to be effectual, +required to be conducted with considerable coolness and skill. They were +some thousand feet above the clouds. If the ballast were dismissed too +soon, the balloon must again acquire a perilous velocity before it would +reach the earth. If, on the other hand, its descent were not moderated +in time, its fall might become so precipitate as to be ungovernable. +Nine or ten sand-bags being, therefore, reserved for the last and +critical moment, all the rest of the ballast was discharged. The fall +being still frightfully rapid, the voyagers cast out, as they descended +through the cloud already mentioned, every article of weight which they +had, among which were the blankets and woolen clothing which they had +brought to cover them in the upper regions of the atmosphere, their +shoes, several bottles of wine, all, in fine, save and except the +philosophical instruments. These they regarded as the soldier does his +flag, not to be surrendered save with life. M. Bixio, when about to +throw over a trifling apparatus, called an aspirator, composed of +copper, and filled with water, was forbidden by M. Barral, and obeyed +the injunction. + +They soon emerged from the lower stratum of the cloud, through which +they had fallen in less than two minutes, having taken fifteen minutes +to ascend through it. The earth was now in sight, and they were dropping +upon it like a stone. Every weighty article had been dismissed, except +the nine sand-bags, which had been designedly reserved to break the +shock on arriving at the surface. They observed that they were directly +over some vine-grounds near Lagny, in the department of the Seine and +Marne, and could distinctly see a number of laborers engaged in their +ordinary toil, who regarded with unmeasured astonishment the enormous +object about to drop upon them. It was only when they arrived at a few +hundred feet from the surface that the nine bags of sand were dropped by +M. Barral, and by this man[oe]uvre the lives of the voyagers were +probably saved. The balloon reached the ground, and the car struck among +the vines. Happily the wind was gentle; but gentle as it was it was +sufficient, acting upon the enormous surface of the balloon, to drag the +car along the ground, as if it were drawn by fiery and ungovernable +horses. Now arrived a moment of difficulty and danger, which also had +been foreseen and provided for by M. Barral. If either of the voyagers +had singly leaped from the car, the balloon, lightened of so much +weight, would dart up again into the air. Neither voyager would consent, +then, to purchase his own safety at the risk of the other. M. Barral, +therefore, threw his body half down from the car, laying hold of the +vine-stakes, as he was dragged along, and directing M. Bixio to hold +fast to his feet. In this way the two voyagers, by their united bodies, +formed a sort of anchor, the arms of M. Barral playing the part of the +fluke, and the body of M. Bixio that of the cable. + +In this way M. Barral was dragged over a portion of the vineyard +rapidly, without any other injury than a scratch or contusion of the +face, produced by one of the vine-stakes. + +The laborers just referred to meanwhile collected, and pursued the +balloon, and finally succeeded in securing it, and in liberating the +voyagers, whom they afterward thanked for the bottles of excellent wine +which, as they supposed, had fallen from the heavens, and which, +wonderful to relate, had not been broken from the fall, although, as has +been stated, they had been discharged above the clouds. The astonishment +and perplexity of the rustics can be imagined on seeing these bottles +drop in the vineyard. + +This fact also shows how perpendicularly the balloon must have dropped, +since the bottles dismissed from such a height, fell in the same field +where, in a minute afterward, the balloon also dropped. + +The entire descent from the altitude of twenty thousand feet was +effected in seven minutes, being at the average rate of fifty feet per +second. + +In fine, we have to report that these adventurous partisans of science, +nothing discouraged by the catastrophe which has occurred have resolved +to renew the experiment under, as may he hoped, less inauspicious +circumstances; and we trust that on the next occasion they will not +disdain to avail themselves of the co-operation and presence of some one +of those persons, who having hitherto practiced aerial navigation for +the mere purposes of amusement, will, doubtless, be too happy to invest +one at least of their labors with a more useful and more noble +character. + + + + +(From the Dublin University Magazine.) + +ANDREW CARSON'S MONEY; A STORY OF GOLD. + + +The night of a bitter winter day had come; frost, and hail, and snow +carried a sense of new desolation to the cold hearths of the moneyless, +while the wealthy only drew the closer to their bright fires, and +experienced stronger feelings of comfort. + +In a small back apartment of a mean house, in one of the poorest +quarters of Edinburgh, a young man sat with a pen in his fingers, +endeavoring to write, though the blue tint of his nails showed that the +blood was almost frozen in his hands. There was no fire in the room; the +old iron grate was rusty and damp, as if a fire had not blazed in it for +years; the hail dashed against the fractured panes of the window; the +young man was poorly and scantily dressed, and he was very thin, and +bilious to all appearance; his sallow, yellow face and hollow eyes told +of disease, misery, and the absence of hope. + +His hand shook with cold, as, by the light of the meanest and cheapest +of candles, he slowly traced line after line, with the vain thought of +making money by his writings. In his boyish days he had entered the +ranks of literature, with the hopes of fame to lead him on, but +disappointment after disappointment, and miserable circumstances of +poverty and suffering had been his fate: now the vision of fame had +become dim in his sick soul--he was writing with the hope of gaining +money, any trifle, by his pen. + +Of all the ways of acquiring money to which the millions bend their best +energies, that of literature is the most forlorn. The artificers of +necessaries and luxuries, for the animal existence, have the world as +their customers; but those who labor for the mind have but a limited +few, and therefore the supply of mental work is infinitely greater than +the demand, and thousands of the unknown and struggling, even though +possessed of much genius, must sink before the famous few who +monopolize the literary market, and so the young writer is overlooked. +He may be starving, but his manuscripts will be returned to him; the +emoluments of literature are flowing in other channels; he is one added +to the thousands too many in the writing world; his efforts may bring +him misery and madness, but not money. + +The door of the room opened, and a woman entered; and advancing near the +little table on which the young man was writing, she fixed her eyes on +him with a look in which anger, and the extreme wretchedness which +merges on insanity, were mingled. She seemed nearly fifty; her features +had some remaining traces of former regularity and beauty, but her whole +countenance now was a volume filled with the most squalid suffering and +evil passions; her cheeks and eyes were hollow, as if she had reached +the extreme of old age; she was emaciated to a woeful degree; her dress +was poor dirty, and tattered, and worn without any attempt at proper +arrangement. + +"Writing! writing! writing! Thank God, Andrew Carson, the pen will soon +drop from your fingers with starvation." + +The woman said this in a half-screaming, but weak and broken-down voice. + +"Mother, let me have some peace," said the young writer, turning his +face away, so that he might not see her red glaring eyes fixed on him. + +"Ay, Andrew Carson, I say thank God that the force of hunger will soon +now make you drop that cursed writing. Thank God, if there _is_ the God +that my father used to talk about in the long nights in the bonnie +highland glen, where it's like a dream of lang syne that I ever lived." + +She pressed her hands on her breast, as if some recollections of an +overpowering nature were in her soul. + +"The last rag in your trunk has gone to the pawn; you have neither +shirt, nor coat, nor covering now, except what you've on. +Write--write--if you can, without eating; to-morrow you'll have neither +meat nor drink here, nor aught now to get money on." + +"Mother, I am in daily expectation of receiving something for my writing +now; the post this evening may bring me some good news." + +He said this with hesitation, and there was little of hope in the +expression of his face. + +"Good news! good news about your writing! that's the good news 'ill +never come; never, you good-for-nothing scribbler!" + +She screamed forth the last words in a voice of frenzy. Her tone was a +mixture of Scotch and Irish accents. She had resided for some years of +her earlier life in Ireland. + +As the young writer looked at her and listened to her, the pen shook in +his hand. + +"Go out, and work, and make money. Ay, the working people can live on +the best, while you, with that pen in your fingers, are starving +yourself and me." + +"Mother, I am not strong enough for labor, and my tastes are strongly, +very strongly, for literature." + +"Not strong enough! you're twenty past. It's twenty long years since the +cursed night I brought you into the world." The young writer gazed +keenly on his mother, for he was afraid she was under the influence of +intoxication, as was too often the case; but he did not know how she +could have obtained money, as he knew there was not a farthing in the +house. The woman seemed to divine the meaning of his looks-- + +"I'm not drunk, don't think it," she cried; "it's the hunger and the +sorrow that's in my head." + +"Well, mother, perhaps this evening's post may have some good +intelligence." + +"What did the morning's post bring? There, there--don't I see it--them's +the bonnie hopes of yours." + +She pointed to the table, where lay a couple of returned manuscripts. +Andrew glanced toward the parcel, and made a strong effort to suppress +the deep sigh which heaved his breast. + +"Ay, there it is--there's a bundle of that stuff ye spend your nights +and days writing; taking the flesh off your bones, and making that face +of yours so black and yellow; it's your father's face, too--ay--well +it's like him now, indeed--the ruffian. I wish I had never seen him, nor +you, nor this world." + +"My father," said Andrew, and a feeling of interest overspread his +bloodless face. "You have told me little of him. Why do you speak of him +so harshly?" + +"Go and work, and make money, I say. I tell you I must get money; right +or wrong, I must get it; there's no living longer, and enduring what +I've endured. I dream of being rich; I waken every morning from visions +where my hands are filled with money; that wakening turns my head, when +I know and see there is not a halfpenny in the house, and when I see +you, my son, sitting there, working like a fool with pen and brain, but +without the power to earn a penny for me. Go out and work with your +hands, I say again, and let me get money--do any thing, if it brings +money. There is the old woman over the way, who has a working son; his +mother may bless God that he is a shoemaker and not a poet; she is the +happy woman, so cozily covered with warm flannel and stuff this weary +weather, and her mutton, and her tea, and her money jingling in her +pocket forever; that's what a working son can do--a shoemaker can do +that." + +At this some noise in the kitchen called Mrs. Carson away, to the great +relief of Andrew. He rose, and closed the door gently after her. He +seated himself again, and took up his pen, but his head fell listlessly +on his hand; he felt as if his mother's words were yet echoing in his +ears. From his earliest infancy he had regarded her with fear and +wonder, more than love. + +Mrs. Carson was the daughter of a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman, who +was suspected by his brethren in the ministry of entertaining peculiar +views of religion on some points, and also of being at intervals rather +unsound in his mind. He bestowed, however, a superior education on his +only daughter, and instructed her carefully himself until his death, +which occurred when she was not more than fourteen. As her father left +her little if any support, she was under the necessity of going to +reside with relations in Ireland, who moved in a rather humble rank. Of +her subsequent history little was known to Andrew; she always maintained +silence regarding his father, and seemed angry when he ventured to +question her. Andrew was born in Ireland, and resided there until about +his eighth year, when his mother returned to Scotland. + +It was from his mother Andrew had gained all the little education that +had been bestowed on him. That education was most capriciously imparted, +and in its extent only went the length of teaching him to read +partially; for whatever further advances he had made he was indebted to +his own self-culture. At times his mother would make some efforts to +impress on him the advantages of education: she would talk of poetry, +and repeat specimens of the poets which her memory had retained from the +period of her girlhood in her father's house; but oftenest the language +of bitterness, violence, and execration was on her lips. With the +never-ceasing complaints of want--want of position, want of friends, +but, most of all, want of money--sounding in his ears, Andrew grew up a +poet. The unsettled and aimless mind of his mother, shadowed as it was +with perpetual blackness, prevented her from calmly and wisely striving +to place her son in some position by which he could have aided in +supporting himself and her. As a child, Andrew was shy and solitary, +caring little for the society of children of his own years, and taking +refuge from the never-ceasing violence of his mother's temper in the +privacy of his own poor bedroom, with some old book which he had +contrived to borrow, or with his pen, for he was a writer of verses from +an early age. + +Andrew was small-sized, sickly, emaciated, and feeble in frame; his mind +had much of the hereditary weakness visible in his mother; his +imagination and his passions were strong, and easily excited to such a +pitch as to overwhelm for the moment his reason. With a little-exercised +and somewhat defective judgment; with no knowledge of the world; with +few books; with a want of that tact possessed by some intellects, of +knowing and turning to account the tendencies of the age in literature, +it was hardly to be expected that Andrew would soon succeed as a poet, +though his imagination was powerful, and there was pathos and even +occasional sublimity in his poetry. For five long years he had been +toiling and striving without any success whatever in his vocation, in +the way of realizing either fame or emolument. + +Now, as he sat with his eyes fixed on the two returned manuscripts on +his table, his torturing memory passed in review before him the many +times his hopes had been equally lost. He was only twenty years of age, +yet he had endured so many disappointments! He shook and trembled with a +convulsive agony as he recalled poem after poem, odes, sonnets, epics, +dramas--he had tried every thing; he had built so many glorious +expectations on each as, night after night, shivering with cold and +faint with sickness, he had persisted in gathering from his mind, and +arranging laboriously, the brightest and most powerful of his poetical +fancies, and hoped, and was often almost sure, they would spread +broadly, and be felt deeply in the world. But there they had all +returned to him--there they lay, unknown, unheard of--they were only so +much waste paper. + +As each manuscript had found its way back to him, he had received every +one with an increasing bitterness and despair, which gradually wrought +his brain almost to a state of mental malady. By constitution he was +nervous and melancholy: the utmost of the world's success would hardly +have made him happy; he had no internal strength to cope with +disappointment--no sanguine hopes pointing to a brighter future: he was +overwhelmed with present failures. One moment he doubted sorely the +power of his own genius: and the thought was like death to him, for +without fame--without raising himself a name and a position above the +common masses--he felt he could not live. Again, he would lay the whole +blame on the undiscerning publishers to whom his poetry had been sent; +he would anathematize them all with the fierce bitterness of a soul +which was, alas! unsubdued in many respects by the softening and +humbling influences of the religion of Christ. He had not the calm +reflection which might have told him that, young, uneducated, utterly +unlearned in the world and in books as he was, his writings must of +necessity have a kind of inferiority to the works of those possessed of +more advantages. He had no deep, sober principles or thoughts; his +thoughts were feelings which bore him on their whirlwind course to the +depths of agony, and to the brink of the grave, for his health was +evidently seriously impaired by the indulgence of long-continued +emotions of misery. + +He took up one of the rejected manuscripts in his hand: it was a +legendary poem, modeled something after the style of Byron, though the +young author would have violently denied the resemblance. He thought of +the pains he had bestowed on it--of the amount of thought and +dreams--the sick, languid headaches, the pained breast, the weary mind +it had so often occasioned him; then he saw the marks of tears on +it--the gush of tears which had come as if to extinguish the fire of +madness which had kindled in his brain. When he saw that manuscript +returned to him, the marks of the tears were there staining the outside +page. He looked fixedly on that manuscript, and his thin face became +darker, and more expressive of all that is hopeless in human sorrow; +the bright light of success shone as if so far away from him now--away +at an endless distance, which neither his strength of body or mind could +ever carry him over. + +At that moment the sharp, rapid knock of the postman sounded in his +ears. His heart leaped up, and then suddenly sank with suffocating fear, +for the dark mood of despair was on him--could it be another returned +manuscript? He had only one now in the hands of a publisher; the one on +which he had expended all his powers--the one to which he had trusted +most: it was a tragedy. He had dreamed the preceding night that it had +been accepted; he had dreamed it had brought him showers of gold; he had +been for a moment happy beyond the bounds of human happiness, though he +had awoke with a sense of horror on his mind, he knew not why. The +publisher to whom he had sent his tragedy was to present it to the +manager of one of the London theatres. Had it been taken, performed, +successful?--a dream of glory, as if heaven had opened on him, +bewildered his senses. + +The door was rudely pushed open; his mother entered, and flung the +manuscript of the returned tragedy on the table. + +"There--there's another of them!" she cried, rage choked her voice for a +moment. + +Andrew was stunned. Despair seemed to have frozen him all at once into a +statue. He mechanically took up the packet, and, opening it, he read the +cold, polite, brief note, which told of the rejection of his play both +by theatres and publishers. + +"Idiot--fool--scribbling fool!" + +The unfortunate poet's mother sank into a chair, as if unable to support +the force of her anger. + +"Fool!--scribbling madman! will ye never give over?" + +Andrew made no answer; but every one of his mother's furious words sank +into his brain, adding to the force of his unutterable misery. + +"Will ye go now, and take to some other trade, will ye?--will ye, I +say?" + +Andrew's lips moved for a moment, but no sound came from them. + +"Will ye go out, and make money, I say, at some sensible work? Make +money for me, will you? I'll force you out to make money at some work by +which there's money to be made; not the like of that idiot writing of +yours, curse it. Answer me, and tell me you'll go out and work for money +now?" + +She seized his arm, and shook it violently; but still he made no +response. + +"You will not speak. Listen, then--listen to me, I say; I'll tell it all +now; you'll hear what you never heard before. I did not tell you before, +because I pitied you--because I thought you would work for me, and earn +money; but you will not promise it. Now, then, listen. You are the very +child of money--brought into existence by the influence of money; you +would never have been in being had it not been for money. I always told +you I was married to your father; I told you a falsehood--he bound me to +him by the ties of money only." + +A violent shudder passed over Andrew's frame at this intelligence, but +still he said nothing. + +"You shall hear it all--I shall tell you particularly the whole story. +It was not for nothing you were always afraid of being called a bastard. +It's an ugly word, but it belongs to you--ay, ay, ye always trembled at +that word, since ye were able to go and play among the children in the +street. They called ye that seven years ago--ten years ago, when we came +here first, and you used to come crying to me, for you could not bear +it, you said. I denied it then--I told you I was married to your father; +I told you a lie: I told you that, because I thought you would grow up +and work for me, and get me money. You won't do it; you will only +write--write all day and all night, too, though I've begged you to quit +it. You have me here starving. What signifies the beggarly annuity your +father left to me, and you, his child? It's all spent long before it +comes, and here we are with nothing, not a crust, in the house, and it's +two months till next paying time. + +"Listen--I'll tell you the whole story of your birth; maybe that will +put you from writing for a while, if you have the spirit you used to +have when they told you what you were." + +She shook his arm again, without receiving any answer; his head had +fallen on his hands, and he remained fixed in one position. His mother's +eyes glared on him with a look in which madness was visible, together +with a tigress-like expression of ferocity which rarely appears on the +face of a mother, or of any human being, where insanity does not exist. +When she spoke, however, her words were collected, and her manner was +impressive and even dignified; the look of maniac anger gradually wore +away from her face, and in every sentence she uttered there were proofs +that something of power had naturally existed in her fallen and clouded +mind. + +"Want of money was the earliest thing I remember to feel," she said, as +she seated herself, with something more of composure in her manner. +"There was never any money in my father's house. I wondered at first +where it could all go; I watched and reflected, and used all means of +finding out the mystery. At last I knew it--my father drank; in the +privacy of his room, when no eye was on him, he drank, drank. He paid +strict enough attention to my education. I read with him much; he had +stores of books. I read the Bible with him, too; often he spent long +evenings expounding it to me. But I saw the hollowness of it all--he +hardly believed himself; he doubted--doubted all, while he would fain +have made me a believer. I saw it well: I heard him rave of it in a +fever into which drink had thrown him. All was dark to him, he said, +when he was near dying; but he had taught his child to believe; he had +done his best to make her believe. He did not know my heart; I was his +own child; I longed for sensual things; my heart burned with a wish for +money, but it all went for drink. Had I but been able then to procure +food and clothes as others of my rank did, the burning wish for money +that consumed my heart then and now might never have been kindled, and I +might have been rich as those often become who have never wished for +riches. Yes, the eagerness of my wishes has always driven money far away +from me; that cursed gold and silver, it flows on them who have never +worshiped it--never longed for it till their brain turned; and it will +not come to such as me, whose whole life has been a desire for it. Well, +my father died, and I was left without a penny; all the furniture went +to pay the spirit-merchant. I went to Ireland; I lived with relations +who were poor and ignorant: I heard the cry of want of money there too. +A father and mother and seven children, and me, the penniless orphan: we +all wanted money--all cried for it. At last my cry was answered in a +black way; I saw the sight of money at last; a purse heaped, overflowing +with money, was put into my hands. My brain got giddy at the sight; sin +and virtue became all one to me at the sight. Gold, gold! my father +would hardly ever give me one poor shilling; the people with whom I +lived hardly ever had a shilling among them. I became the mistress of a +rich man--a married man; his wife and children were living there before +my eyes--a profligate man; his sins were the talk of the countryside. I +hated him; he was old, deformed, revolting; but he chained me to him by +money. Then I enjoyed money for a while; I kept that purse in my hand; I +laid it down so as my eyes would rest on it perpetually. I dressed; I +squandered sum after sum; the rich man who kept me had many other +expenses: his money became scantier; we quarreled; another offered me +more money--I went to him." + +A deep groan shook the whole frame of the unfortunate young poet at this +statement--a groan which in its intensity might have separated soul and +body. + +"Let me go--let me go!" he cried, raising himself for a moment, and then +sinking back again in his chair in a passive state. + +His mother seemed a little softened by his agitation, though she made no +comment on it, but continued her narrative as if no interruption had +taken place. + +"Money took me to a new master; he was richer than the first; he bound +my heart to him by the profusion of his money. He was old and withered, +but his gold and silver reflected so brightly on his face, I came to +think him handsome; he was your father; you were born; after your birth +I think I even loved him. I urged him to marry me; he listened; he even +promised--yes, marriage and money--money--they were almost in my very +grasp. I was sure--sure--when he went to England to arrange some +business, he said; he wrote fondly for a while; I lived in an elysium; +money and an honorable marriage were my own. I had not one doubt; but he +ceased to write to me--all at once he ceased; had it been a gradual +drawing off, my brain would not have reeled as it did. At last, when +fear and anxiety had almost thrown me into a fever, a letter came. It +announced in a few words that your father was married to a young, +virtuous, and wealthy lady; he had settled a small annuity on me for +life, and never wished to see or hear from me again. A violent illness +seized me then; it was a kind of burning fever. All things around me +seemed to dazzle, and assume the form of gold and silver; I struggled +and writhed to grasp the illusion; they were forced to tie my hands--to +bind me down in my bed. I recovered at last, but I had grown all at once +old, withered, stricken in mind and body by that sickness. For a long +time--for years--I lived as if in a lingering dream; I had no keen +perceptions of life; my wishes had little energy; my thoughts were +confused and wandering; even the love of money and the want of money +failed to stir me into any kind of action. I have something of the same +kind of feeling still," she said, raising her hand to her head. "The +burning fever into which I was thrown when your father's love vanished +from me, is often here even yet, though its duration is brief; but it is +sufficient to make me incapable of any exertion by which I could make +money. I have trusted to you; I have hoped that you might be the means +of raising me from my poverty; I have long hoped to see the gold and +silver of your earning. I did not say much at first, when I saw you +turning a poet; I had heard that poetry was the sure high-road to +poverty, but I said little then. I was hardly able to judge and know +rightly what you should do when you commenced writing in your boyhood; +but my head is a little cooler now; the scorching fire of the money your +father tempted me with, and then withdrew, is quenched a little by +years. Now at last I see that you are wasting your time and health with +that pen; you have not made one shilling--one single sixpence for me, +yet, with that pen of yours; your health is going fast; I see the color +of the grave on your thin cheeks. Now I command you to throw away your +pen, and make money for me at any trade, no matter how low or mean." + +As she spoke, there was a look approaching to dignity in her wasted +face, and her tones were clear and commanding--the vulgar Irishism and +Scoticism of dialect which, on common occasions, disfigured her +conversation, had disappeared, and it was evident that her intellect had +at one period been cultivated, and superior to the ordinary class of +minds. + +Andrew rose without saying one syllable in answer to his mother's +communication; he threw his manuscripts and the sheets which he had +written into a desk; he locked it with a nervous, trembling hand, and +then turned to leave the room. His face was of the most ghastly +paleness; his eyes were calm and fixed; he seemed sick at heart by the +disclosure he had heard; his lips trembled and shook with agitation. + +"Where are you going, Andrew? It's a bitter night." + +"Mother, it is good enough for me--for a--" + +He could not speak the hated word which rose to his lips; he had an +early horror of that word; he had dreaded that his was a dishonorable +birth: even in his boyish days he had feared it; his mother had often +asserted to the contrary, but now she had dispelled the belief in which +he had rested. + +He opened the door hastily, and passed out into the storm, which was +rushing against the windows. + +A feeling of pity for him--a feeling of a mother's affection and +solicitude, was stirred in Mrs. Carson's soul, as she listened to his +departing footsteps, and then went and seated herself beside the embers +of a dying fire in the kitchen; it was a small, cold, +miserably-furnished kitchen; the desolation of the severe season met no +counterbalancing power there; no cheering appearances of food, or fire, +or any comforts were there. But the complaining spirit which cried and +sighed perpetually was for once silent within Mrs. Carson's mind; +something--perhaps the death-like aspect of her son, or a voice from her +long stifled conscience--was telling her how ill she had fulfilled the +duties of a mother. She felt remorse for the reproaches she had heaped +on him before he had gone out in the storm. + +She waited to hear his knock at the door; she longed for his returning +steps; she felt that she would receive him with more of kindness than +she had for a length of time displayed to him; she kept picturing to +herself perpetually his thin face and emaciated figure, and a fear of +his early death seized on her for the first time; she had been so +engrossed by her own selfish wants, that she had scarcely remarked the +failing health of her son. She started with horror at the probabilities +which her naturally powerful fancy suggested. She resolved to call in +medical aid immediately, for she was sure now that Andrew's constitution +was sinking fast. But how would she pay for medical aid? she had not one +farthing to procure advice. At this thought the yearning, burning desire +for money which had so long made a part of her existence came back with +full force; she sat revolving scheme after scheme, plan after plan, of +how she could procure it. Hours passed away, but still she sat alone, +silently cowering over the cinders of the fire. + +At length she started up, fully awake, to a sense of wonder and dread at +Andrew's long absence. She heard the sound of distant clocks striking +twelve. It was unusual for Andrew to be out so late, for he had +uniformly kept himself aloof from evil companions. The high poetical +spirit within him, a spirit which utterly engrossed him, had kept him +from the haunts of vice. His mother went to the door, and opening it, +gazed on the narrow, mean street. The storm had passed away; the street +was white with hail and snow; the moon shone clearly down between the +tall but dilapidated houses of which the street or lane was composed; +various riotous-looking people were passing by; and from a neighboring +house the brisk strains of a violin came, together with the sound of +voices and laughter. The house had a bad repute in the neighborhood, but +Mrs. Carson never for an instant suspected her son was there. She looked +anxiously along the street, and at every passing form she gazed +earnestly, but none resembled her son. + +For a long time she stood waiting and watching for the appearance of +Andrew, but he did not come. At last, sinking with cold and weariness, +and with a host of phantom fears rising up in her bewildered brain, and +almost dragging her mind down into the gulf of utter madness, on the +brink of which she had so long been, Mrs. Carson returned to the +kitchen. As she looked on the last ember dying out on the hearth, a +feeling of frenzy shook her frame. Andrew would soon return, shivering +with cold, and she had no fire to warm him--no money to purchase fire. +She thought of the wealthy--of their bright fires--and bitter envy and +longing for riches gnawed her very heart and life. A broken deal chair +was in a corner of the kitchen; she seized it, and after some efforts +succeeded in wrenching off a piece, which she placed on the dying ember, +and busied herself for some time in fanning; then she gathered every +remaining fragment of coals from the recess at one side of the +fire-place, in which they were usually kept, and with the pains and +patience which poverty so sorely teaches, she employed herself in making +some appearance of a fire. Had she been in her usual mood, she would +have sat anathematizing her son for his absence at such an hour; but now +every moment, as she sat awaiting his return, her heart became more +kindly disposed toward him, and an uneasy feeling of remorse for her +past life was each instant gaining strength amidst the variety of +strange spectral thoughts and fancies which flitted through her diseased +mind. At some moments she fancied she saw her father seated opposite to +her on the hearth, and heard him reading from the Bible, as he did so +often in her girlish days: then again he was away in the privacy of his +own room, and she was watching him through a crevice of the door, and +she saw him open the cabinet he kept there, and take out liquor, ardent +spirits, and he drank long and deep draughts, until gradually he sank +down on his bed in the silent, moveless state of intoxication which had +so long imposed on her, for she had once believed that her father was +subject to fits of a peculiar kind. She groaned and shuddered as this +vision was impressed on her; she saw the spirit of evil which had +destroyed her father attaching itself next to her own fate, and leading +her into the depths of guilt, and she trembled for her son. Had he now +fallen in sin? was some evil action detaining him to such an hour? He +was naturally inclined to good, she knew--strangely good and pure had +his life been, considering he was her child, and reared so carelessly as +she had reared him; but now he had been urged to despair by her endless +cry for money, and, perhaps, he was at that very instant engaged in some +robbery, by which he would be able to bring money to his mother. + +So completely enslaved had her mind become to a lust for money, that the +thought of his gaining wealth by any means was for some time delightful +to her; she looked on their great poverty, and she felt, in her darkened +judgment, that they had something of a right to take forcibly a portion +of the superabundant money of the rich. Her eyes glared with eagerness +for the sight of her son returning with money, even though that money +was stolen; the habitual mood of her mind prevailed rapidly over the +impressions of returning goodness and affection which for a brief period +had awoke within her. + +In the midst of the return of her overwhelming desire for money, +Andrew's knock came to the door. The eager inquiry whether he had +brought any money with him was bursting from her lips the moment she +opened the door and beheld him, but she was cheeked by the sight of two +strangers who accompanied him. Andrew bade the men follow him, and +walked rapidly to the kitchen; the tones of his voice were so changed +and hollow that his mother hardly recognized him to be her son. + +He requested the men to be seated, telling them that when the noise on +the street would be quiet and the people dispersed they would get that +for which they had come. At that moment a drunken broil on the street +had drawn some watchmen to the neighborhood. + +He bade his mother follow him, and proceeded hastily to his own room. By +the aid of a match he lighted the miserable candle by which, some hours +previously, he had been writing. + +"Mother, here is money--gold--here--your hand." He pressed some gold +coins into her hand. "Gold! ay, gold, gold, indeed!" gasped his mother, +the intensity of her joy repressing for the instant all extravagant +demonstrations of it. + +"Go, go away to the kitchen; in about five or ten minutes let the men +come here, and they will get what I have sold them." + +"Money! money at last; gold--gold!" cried his mother, altogether +unconscious of what her son was saving, and only awake to the blessed +sense of having at last obtained money. + +"Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose." + +"Money! blessings, blessings on you and God--money!" She seemed still in +ignorance of Andrew's request that she would withdraw. + +"Away, I say, I must be alone; away to the kitchen, and leave me alone; +but let the men come here in a few minutes and take what they have +purchased." + +He spoke with a strange energy. She obeyed him at last, and left the +room: she remembered afterward that his face was like that of a dead man +when he addressed her. + +She returned to the kitchen. The two men were seated where she had left +them, and were conversing together: their strong Irish accent told at +once their country. Mrs. Carson paid no attention to them; she neither +spoke to them nor looked at them; she held tightly clasped in her hand +the few gold coins her son had given her; she walked about like one half +distracted, addressing audible thanksgiving to God one instant, and the +next felicitating herself in an insane manner on having at last obtained +some money. The two men commented on her strange manners, and agreed +that she was mad, stating their opinions aloud to each other, but she +did not hear them. + +The noise and quarreling on the street continued for some time, and the +men manifested no impatience while it lasted. All became quiet after a +time; the desertion and silence of night seemed at last to have settled +down on the street. The two men then manifested a strong wish to finish +the business on which they had come. + +"I say, whereabouts is it--where's the snatch, my good woman?" said one +of the men, addressing Mrs. Carson. + +She looked on him and his companion with amazement mingled with +something of fear, for the aspects of both were expressive of low +ruffianism. + +"She's mad, don't you see," said the one who had not addressed her. + +The other cursed deeply, saying that as they had given part payment, +they would get their errand, or their money back again. + +At this, a gleam of recollection crossed Mrs. Carson's mind, and she +informed them that her son had mentioned about something they had +purchased, which was in his room. She thought at the instant, that +perhaps he had disposed of one of his manuscripts at last, though she +wondered at the appearance of the purchasers of such an article. + +"That's it," cried the men; "show us the way to the room fast; it's all +quiet now." + +Anxious to get rid of the men, Mrs. Carson proceeded hastily to her +son's room, followed closely by the men. The first object she saw, on +opening the door, was Andrew, leaning on his desk; the little desk stood +on the table, and Andrew's head and breast were lying on it, as if he +was asleep. There was something in his fixed attitude which struck an +unpleasant feeling to his mother's heart. + +"Andrew!" she said; "Andrew, the men are here." + +All was silent. No murmur of sleep or life came from Andrew. His mother +ran to his side, and grasped his arm: there was no sound, no motion. She +raised his head with one hand, while at the same time she glanced at an +open letter, on which a few lines were scrawled in a large, hurried +hand. Every word and letter seemed to dilate before her eyes, as in a +brief instant of time she read the following: + +"Mother, I have taken poison. I have sold my body to a doctor for +dissection; the money I gave you is part of the price. You have +upbraided me for never making money: I have sold all I possess--my +body--and given you money. You have told me of the stain on my birth; I +can not live and write after that; all the poetical fame in this world +would not wash away such a stain. Your bitter words, my bitter fate, I +can bear no longer; I go to the other world; God will pardon me. Yes, +yes, from the bright moon and stars this night, there came down a voice, +saying, God would take me up to happiness amid his own bright worlds. +Give my body to the men who are waiting for it, and so let every trace +of Andrew Carson vanish from your earth." + +With a lightning rapidity Mrs. Carson scanned each word; and not until +she had read it all, did a scream of prolonged and utter agony, such as +is rarely heard even in this world of grief burst from her lips; and +with a gesture of frenzied violence she flung the money she had kept +closely grasped in her hand at the men. One of them stooped to gather it +up, and the other ran toward Andrew, and raised his inanimate body a +little from its recumbent position. He was quite dead, however; a +bottle, marked "Prussic Acid," was in his hand. The two men, having +recovered the money, hurried away, telling Mrs. Carson they would send +immediate medical aid, to see if any thing could be done for the +unfortunate young man. Mrs. Carson did not hear them; a frenzied +paroxysm seized her, and she lay on the floor screaming in the wild +tones of madness, and utterly incapable of any exertion. She saw the +money she had received with such rapture carried away from before her +eyes, but she felt nothing: money had become terrible to her at last. + +Her cries attracted a watchman from the street. A doctor was soon on the +spot; but Andrew Carson was no more connected with flesh, and blood, and +human life; he was away beyond recall, in the spirit-world. + +An inquest was held on the body, and a verdict of temporary insanity +returned, as is usual in such cases of suicide. The young poet was +buried, and soon forgotten. + +Mrs. Carson lingered for some weeks; her disease assumed something of +the form of violent brain-fever; in her ravings she fancied perpetually +that she was immersed in streams of fluid burning gold and silver. They +were forcing her to drink draughts of that scorching gold, she would +cry; all was burning gold and silver: all drink, all food, all air, and +light, and space around her. At the very last she recovered her senses +partially, and calling, with a feeble but calm voice, on her only +beloved child, Andrew, she died. + + + + +[Illustration: Neander in the Lecture Room.] + +NEANDER. + + +Germany has just lost one of her greatest Protestant theologians, +AUGUSTUS NEANDER. He was born at Goettingen, Jan. 16, 1789, and died at +Berlin, July 13, 1850, in his sixty-second year. He was of Jewish +descent, as his strongly-marked features sufficiently evidence; but at +the age of seventeen he embraced the Christian religion, to the defense +of which his labors, and to the exemplification of which his life, were +thenceforth devoted. Having studied theology at Halle, under +Schleiermacher, he was appointed private lecturer at Heidelberg in 1811, +and in the following year the first Professor of Theology at the Royal +University of Berlin, which post he held to the time of his death, a +period of thirty-eight years. Deservedly high as is his reputation +abroad, it is still higher in his own country, where he was known not +only as an author, but as a teacher, a preacher, and a man. The +following is a list of his published works: The Emperor Julian and his +Times, 1812; Bernard and his Times, 1813; Genetical Development of the +Principal Gnostic Systems, 1818; Chrysostom and the Church in his Times, +1820 and 1832; Memorabilia from the History of Christianity and the +Christian Life, 1822 and 1845-46; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +exegetical and historical, 1829; A Collection of Miscellanies, chiefly +biographical, 1840; The Principle of the Reformation, or, Staupitz and +Luther, 1840; History of the Planting and Training of the Christian +Church, 4th ed., 1847; The Life of Jesus Christ in its Historical +Connection and Historical Development, 4th ed., 1845; General History of +the Christian Religion and Church, 1842-47. Neander is best known to +readers of English by the last two works, both of which have been made +accessible to them by American scholars. + +The Life of Christ was undertaken to counteract the impression made by +STRAUSS'S "Life of Christ," in which the attempt was made to apply the +mythical theory to the entire structure of evangelical history. +According to Strauss, the sum of the historical truth contained in the +narratives of the evangelists is, that Jesus lived and taught in Judea, +where he gathered disciples who believed that he was the Messiah. +According to their preconceived notions, the life of the Messiah, and +the period in which he lived, were to be illustrated by signs and +wonders. Messianic legends existed ready-made, in the hopes and +expectations of the people, only needing to be transferred to the person +and character of Jesus. The appearance of this work produced a great +sensation in Germany. It was believed by many that the book should be +prohibited; and the Prussian government was inclined to this measure. +Neander, however, advised that the book should rather be met by +argument. His Life of Christ which was thus occasioned, wears, in +consequence, a somewhat polemical aspect. It has taken the rank of a +standard authority, both in German and in English, into which it has +been admirably translated by Professors M'CLINTOCK and BLUMENTHAL. + +The great work of Neander's life, and of which his various writings in +the departments of Ecclesiastical History, Biography, Patristics, and +Dogmatics are subsidiary, is the General History of the Christian +Religion and Church. The first part of this, containing the history of +the first three centuries, was published in 1825, and, improved and +enlarged, in 1842--43. The second part, which brings the history down to +the close of the sixth century, appeared originally in 1828, and in a +second edition in 1846--47. These two parts, comprising four volumes of +the German edition, are well known to English readers through the +excellent version of Professor TORREY. This is a history of the inner +development of Christian doctrines and opinions rather than of the +external progress of the Church, and in connection with GIESELER'S +Text-Book, furnishes by far the best apparatus for the study of +ecclesiastical history now extant. + +A correspondent of the _Boston Traveler_, writing under date of Berlin, +July 22, gives the following graphic sketch of the personal +characteristics of Neander: + +"NEANDER is no more! He who for thirty-eight years has defeated the +attacks upon the church from the side of rationalism and +philosophy--who, through all the controversies among theologians in +Germany, has remained true to the faith of his adoption, the pure and +holy religion of Jesus Christ--Neander, the philosopher, the +scholar--better, the great and good man--has been taken from the world. + +"He was never married, but lived with his maiden sister. Often have I +seen the two walking arm in arm upon the streets and in the parks of the +city. Neander's habit of abstraction and short-sightedness rendered it +necessary for him to have some one to guide the way whenever he left his +study for a walk or to go to his lecture room. Generally, a student +walked with him to the University, and just before it was time for his +lecture to close, his sister could be seen walking up and down on the +opposite side of the street, waiting to accompany him home. + +"Many anecdotes are related of him illustrative of his absence of mind, +such as his appearing in the lecture room half dressed--if left alone, +always going to his old residence, after he had removed to another part +of the city--walking in the gutter, &c, &c. In the lecture room, his +manner was in the highest degree peculiar. He put his left arm over the +desk, clasping the book in his hand, and after bringing his face close +to the corner of his desk, effectually concealed it by holding his notes +close to his nose. + +"In one hand was always a quill, which, during the lecture, he kept +constantly twirling about and crushing. He pushed the desk forward upon +two legs, swinging it back and forth, and every few minutes would plunge +forward almost spasmodically, throwing one foot back in a way leading +you to expect that he would the next moment precipitate himself headlong +down upon the desks of the students. Twirling his pen, occasional +spitting, jerking his foot backward, taken with his dress, gave him a +most eccentric appearance in the lecture room. Meeting him upon the +street, with his sister, you never would have suspected that such a +strange looking being could be Neander. He formerly had two sisters, but +a few years ago the favorite one died. It was a trying affliction, and +for a short interval he was quite overcome, but suddenly he dried his +tears, calmly declared his firm faith and reliance in the wise purpose +of God in taking her to himself, and resumed his lectures immediately as +if nothing had over taken him to disturb his serenity. + +"Neander's charity was unbounded. Poor students were not only presented +with tickets to his lectures, but were also often provided by him with +money and clothing. Not a farthing of the money received for his +lectures ever went to supply his own wants; it was all given away for +benevolent purposes. The income from his writings was bestowed upon the +Missionary, Bible, and other societies, and upon hospitals. Thoughts of +himself never seemed to have obtruded upon his mind. He would sometimes +give away to a poor student all the money he had about him at the moment +the request was made of him, even his new coat, retaining the old one +for himself. You have known this great man in your country more on +account of his learning, from his books, than in any other way; but +here, where he has lived, one finds that his private character, his +piety, his charity, have distinguished him above all others. + +"It would be difficult to decide whether the influence of his example +has not been as great as that of his writings upon the thousands of +young men who have been his pupils. Protestants, Catholics, nearly all +the leading preachers throughout Germany, have attended his lectures, +and all have been more or less guided by him. While philosophy has been +for years attempting to usurp the place of religion, Neander has been +the chief instrument in combating it, and in keeping the true faith +constantly before the students. + +"He was better acquainted with Church History and the writings of the +Fathers than any one of his time. It has been the custom upon the +recurrence of his birth-day, for the students to present to him a rare +edition of one of the Fathers, and thus he has come to have one of the +most complete sets of their writings to be found in any library. Turning +from his great literary attainments, from all considerations suggested +by his profound learning, it is pleasant to contemplate the pure +Christian character of the man. Although born a Jew, his whole life +seemed to be a sermon upon the text, 'That disciple whom Jesus loved +said unto Peter, _It is the Lord!'_ Neander's life resembled more 'that +disciple's' than any other. He was the loving John, the new Church +Father of our times. + +"His sickness was only of a few days' duration. On Monday he held his +lecture as usual. The next day he was seized with a species of cholera. +A day or two of pain was followed by a lucid interval, when the +physicians were encouraged to hope for his recovery. During this +interval he dictated a page in his Church History, and then said to his +sister--'I am weary--let us go home.' He had no time to die. He needed +no further preparation; his whole life had been the best preparation, +and up to the last moment we see him active in his master's service. The +disease returned with redoubled force; a day or two more of suffering, +and on Sunday, less than a week from the day of attack, he was dead. + +"On the 17th of July I attended the funeral services. The procession of +students was formed at the university, and marched to his dwelling. In +the meantime, in the house, the theological students, the professors +from Berlin, and from the University of Halle, the clergy, relatives, +high officers of government, etc., were assembled to hear the funeral +discourse. Professor Strauss, for forty-five years an intimate friend of +Neander, delivered a sermon. During the exercises, the body, not yet +placed in the coffin, was covered with wreaths and flowers, and +surrounded with burning candles. + +"The procession was of great length, was formed at 10 A.M. and moved +through Unter den Linden as far as Frederick-street, and then the whole +length of Frederick-street as far as the Elizabeth-street Cemetery. The +whole distance, nearly two miles, the sides of the streets, doors and +windows of the houses were filled with an immense concourse of people +who had come to look upon the solemn scene. The hearse was surrounded +with students, some of them from Halle, carrying lighted candles, and in +advance was borne the Bible and Greek Testament which had ever been used +by the deceased. + +"At the grave, a choir of young men sang appropriate music, and a +student from Halle made an affecting address. It was a solemn sight to +see the tears gushing from the eyes of those who had been the pupils and +friends of Neander. Many were deeply moved, and well might they join +with the world in mourning for one who had done more than any one to +keep pure the religion of Christ here in Germany. + +"After the benediction was pronounced, every one present, according to +the beautiful custom here, went to the grave and threw into it a handful +of dirt, thus assisting at the burial. Slowly, and in scattered groups +the crowd dispersed to their various homes. + +"How insignificant all the metaphysical controversies of the age, the +vain teachings of man, appeared to us as we stood at the grave-side of +Neander. His was a far higher and holier faith, from which, like the +Evangelist, he never wavered. In his life, in his death, the belief to +which he had been converted, his watchword remained unchanged: 'It is +the Lord!' His body has been consigned to the grave, but the sunset +glory of his example still illumines our sky, and will forever light us +onward to the path he trod." + + + + +THE DISASTERS OF A MAN WHO WOULDN'T TRUST HIS WIFE. + +A TALE OF A TAILOR. + +BY WM. HOWITT. + + +There are a multitude of places in this wide world, that we never heard +of since the day of creation, and that never would become known to a +soul beyond their own ten miles of circumference, except to those +universal discoverers, the tax-gatherers, were it not that some sparks +of genius may suddenly kindle there, and carry their fame through all +countries and all generations. This has been the case many times, and +will be the case again. We are now destined to hear the sound of names +that our fathers never dreamed of; and there are other spots, now +basking in God's blessed sunshine, of which the world knows and cares +nothing, that shall, to our children, become places of worship, and +pilgrimage. Something of this sort of glory was cast upon the little +town of Rapps, in Bohemia, by the hero whose name stands conspicuously +in this article, and whose pleasant adventures I flatter myself that I +am destined to diffuse still further. HANS NADELTREIBER was the son of +Mr. Strauss Nadeltreiber, who had, as well as his ancestors before him, +for six generations, practiced, in the same little place, that most +gentlemanly of all professions, a tailor--seeing that it was before all +others, and was used and sanctioned by our father Adam. + +Now Hans, from boyhood up, was a remarkable person. His father had known +his share of troubles, and having two sons, both older than Hans, +naturally looked in his old age to reap some comfort and assistance from +their united labors. But the two elder sons successively had fled from +the shop-board. One had gone for a soldier, and was shot; the other had +learned the craft of a weaver, but being too fond of his pot, had +broken his neck by falling into a quarry, as he went home one night from +a carousal. Hans was left the sole staff for the old man to lean upon; +and truly a worthy son he proved himself. He was as gentle as a dove, +and as tender as a lamb. A cross word from his father, when he had made +a cross stitch, would almost break his heart; but half a word of +kindness revived him again--and he seldom went long without it; for the +old man, though rendered rather testy and crabbed in his temper, by his +many troubles and disappointments, was naturally of a loving, +compassionate disposition, and, moreover, regarded Hans as the apple of +his eye. + +Hans was of a remarkably light, slender, active make, full of life and +mettle. This moment he was on the board, stitching away with as much +velocity as if he were working for a funeral or a wedding, at an hour's +notice; the next, he was dispatching his dinner at the same rate; and +the third beheld him running, leaping, and playing, among his +companions, as blithe as a young kid. If he had a fault, it was being +too fond of his fiddle. This was his everlasting delight. One would have +thought that his elbow had labor enough, with jerking his needle some +thirty thousand times a day; but it was in him a sort of universal +joint--it never seemed to know what weariness was. His fiddle stood +always on the board in a corner by him, and no sooner had he ceased to +brandish his needle, than he began to brandish his fiddlestick. If ever +he could be said to be lazy, it was when his father was gone out to +measure, or try on; and his fiddle being too strong a temptation for +him, he would seize upon it, and labor at it with all his might, till he +spied his father turning his next corner homeward. Nevertheless, with +this trifling exception, he was a pattern of filial duty; and now the +time was come that his father must die--his mother was dead long before; +and he was left alone in the world with his riddle. The whole house, +board, trade--what there was of it--all was his. When he came to take +stock, and make an inventory--in his head--of what he was worth, it was +by no means such as to endanger his entrance into heaven at the proper +time. Naturally enough, he thought of the Scripture simile of the rich +man, and the camel getting through the eye of a needle; but it did not +frighten him. His father never had much beforehand, when he had the +whole place to himself; and now, behold! another knight of the steel-bar +had come from--nobody knew where--a place often talked of, yet still a +_terra incognita_; had taken a great house opposite, hoisted a +tremendous sign, and threatened to carry away every shred of Hans's +business. + +In the depth of his trouble, he took to his fiddle, from his fiddle to +his bed, and in his bed he had a dream--I thought we had done with these +dreams!--in which he was assured, that could he once save the sum of +fifty dollars, it would be the seed of a fortune; that he should +flourish far beyond the scale of old Strauss; should drive his +antagonist, in utter despair, from the ground; and should, in short, +arrive eventually at no less a dignity than--Buergermeister of Rapps! + +Hans was, as I believe I have said, soon set up with the smallest spice +of encouragement. He was, moreover, as light and nimble as a +grasshopper, and, in his whole appearance, much such an animal, could it +be made to stand on end. His dream, therefore, was enough. He vowed a +vow of unconquerable might, and to it he went. Springing upon his board, +he hummed a tune gayly: + + There came the Hippopotamus, + A sort of river-bottom-horse, + Sneezing, snorting, blowing water + From his nostrils, and around him + Grazing up the grass--confound him! + Every mouthful a huge slaughter! + + Beetle, grasshopper, and May-fly, + From his muzzle must away fly, + Or he swallowed them by legions, + His huge foot, it was a pillar; + When he drank, it was a swiller! + Soon a desert were those regions. + + But the grasshoppers so gallant + Called to arms each nimble callant, + With their wings, and stings, and nippers, + Bee, and wasp, and hornet, awful; + Gave the villain such a jawful, + That he slipped away in slippers! + +"Ha! ha!--slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!" cried Hans, +and, seizing his fiddle, dashed off the Hippopotamus in a style that did +him a world of good, and makes us wish that we had the musical notes of +it. Then he fell to, and day and night he wrought. Work came; it was +done. He wanted little--a crust of bread and a merry tune were enough +for him. His money grew; the sum was nearly accomplished, when, +returning one evening from carrying out some work--behold! his door was +open! Behold! the lid of his pot where he deposited his treasure was +off! The money was gone! + +This was a terrible blow. Hans raised a vast commotion. He did not even +fail to insinuate that it might be the interloper opposite--the +Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans's +door? But no matter--the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he +got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. "Ay," said +they, "this comes of living like a curmudgeon, in a great house by +yourself, working your eyes out to hoard up money. What must a young man +like you do with scraping up pots full of money, like a miser? It is a +shame!--it is a sin!--it is a judgment! Nothing better could come of it. +At all events, you might afford to have a light burning in the house. +People are ever likely to rob you. They see a house as dark as an oven; +they see nobody in it; they go in and steal; nobody can see them come +out--and that is just it. But were there a light burning, they would +always think there was somebody in. At all events, you might have a +light." + +"There is something in that," said Hans. He was not at all unreasonable: +so he determined to have a light in future: and he fell to work again. + +Bad as his luck had been, he resolved not to be cast down: he was as +diligent and as thrifty as ever; and he resolved, when he became +Buergermeister of Rapps, to be especially severe on sneaking thieves, who +crept into houses that were left to the care of Providence and the +municipal authorities. A light was everlastingly burning in his window; +and the people, as they passed in the morning, said, "This man must have +a good business that requires him to be up thus early;" and they who +passed in the evening, said, "This man must be making a fortune, for he +is busy early and late." At length Hans leaped down from his board with +the work that was to complete his sum, a second time; went; returned, +with the future Buergermeister growing rapidly upon him; when, as he +turned the corner of the street--men and mercies!--what a spectacle! His +house was in a full burst of flame, illuminating, with a ruddy glow, +half the town, and all the faces of the inhabitants, who were collected +to witness the catastrophe. Money, fiddle, shop-board--all were +consumed! and when poor Hans danced and capered, in the very ecstasy of +his distraction--"Ay," said his neighbors, "this comes of leaving a +light in an empty house. It was just the thing to happen. Why don't you +get somebody to take care of things in your absence?" + +Hans stood corrected; for, as I have said, he was soon touched to the +quick, and though in his anger he did think it rather unkind that they, +who advised the light, now prophesied after the event; when that was a +little abated, he thought there was reason in what they now said. So, +bating not a jot of his determination to save, and to be Buergermeister +of Rapps, he took the very next house, which luckily happened to be at +liberty, and he got a journeyman. For a long time, his case appeared +hard and hopeless. He had to pay three hundred per cent, for the piece +of a table, two stools, and a couple of hags of hay, which he had +procured of a Jew, and which, with an odd pot, and a wooden spoon or +two, constituted all his furniture. Then, he had two mouths to feed +instead of one wages to pay; and not much more work done than he could +manage himself. But still--he had dreamed; and dreams, if they are +genuine, fulfill themselves. The money grew--slowly, very slowly, but +still it grew; and Hans pitched upon a secure place, as he thought, to +conceal it in. Alas! poor Hans! He had often in his heart grumbled at +the slowness of his _Handwerks-Bursch_, or journeyman; but the fellow's +eyes had been quick enough, and he proved himself a hand-work's fellow +to some purpose, by clearing out Hans's hiding-place, and becoming a +journeyman in earnest. The fellow was gone one morning; no great +loss--but then the money was gone with him, which _was_ a terrible +loss. + +This was more than Hans could bear. He was perfectly cast down, +disheartened, and inconsolable. At first, he thought of running after +the fellow; and, as he knew the scamp could not go far without a +passport, and as Hans had gone the round of the country himself, in the +three years of his _Wandel-Jahre_, as required by the worshipful guild +of tailors, he did not doubt but that he should some day pounce upon the +scoundrel. But then, in the mean time, who was to keep his trade +together? There was the Hippopotamus watching opposite! No! it would not +do! and his neighbor, coming in to condole with him, said--"Cheer up, +man! there is nothing amiss yet. What signify a few dollars? You will +soon get plenty more, with those nimble fingers of yours. You want only +somebody to help you to keep them. You must get a wife! Journeymen were +thieves from the first generation. You must get married!" + +"Get married!" thought Hans. He was struck all on a heap at the very +mention of it "Get married! What! fine clothes to go a-wooing in, and +fine presents to go a-wooing with; and parson's fees, and clerk's fees; +and wedding-dinner, and dancing, and drinking; and then, doctor's fees, +and nurse's fees, and children without end! That is ruin!" thought +Hans--"without end!" The fifty dollars and the Buergermeistership--they +might wait till doomsday. + +"Well, that is good!" thought Hans, as he took a little more breath. +"They first counseled me to get a light--then went house and all in a +bonfire; next, I must get a journeyman--then went the money; and now +they would have me bring more plagues upon me than Moses brought upon +Egypt. Nay, nay!" thought Hans; "you'll not catch me there, neither." + +Hans all this time was seated upon his shop-board, stitching, at an +amazing rate, upon a garment which the rascally Wagner should have +finished to order at six o'clock that morning, instead of decamping with +his money; and, ever and anon, so far forgetting his loss in what +appeared to him the ludicrousness of this advice, as freely to laugh +out. All that day, the idea continued to run in his head; the next, it +had lost much of its freshness; the third, it appeared not so odd as +awful; the fourth, he began to ask himself whether it might be quite so +momentous as his imagination had painted it; the fifth, he really +thought it was not so bad neither; the sixth, it had so worked round in +his head, that it had fairly got on the other side, and appeared clearly +to have its advantages--children did not come scampering into the world +all at once, like a flock of lambs into a meadow--a wife might help to +gather, as well as spend--might possibly bring something of her own--ay! +a new idea!--would be a perpetual watch and storekeeper in his +absence--might speak a word of comfort, in trouble when even his fiddle +was dumb; on the seventh--he was off! Whither? + +Why, it so happened that in his "wander-years," Hans had played his +fiddle at many a dance--a very dangerous position; for his chin resting +on "the merry bit of wood," as the ancient Friend termed that +instrument, and his head leaned on one side, he had had plenty of +opportunity to watch the movements of plenty of fair maids in the dance, +as well as occasionally to whirl them round in the everlasting waltz +himself. Accordingly, Hans had left his heart many times, for a week or +ten days or so, behind him, in many a town and dorf of Bohemia and +Germany; but it always came after him and overtook him again, except on +one occasion. Among the damsels of the Boehmer-Wald who had danced to the +sound of his fiddle, there was a certain substantial bergman's or +master-miner's daughter, who, having got into his head in some odd +association with his fiddle, was continually coming up as he played his +old airs, and could not be got out again, especially as he fancied that +the comely and simple-hearted creature had a lurking fondness for both +his music and himself. + +Away he went: and he was right. The damsel made no objection to his +overtures. Tall, stout, fresh, pleasant growth of the open air and the +hills, as she was, she never dreamed of despising the little skipping +tailor of Rapps, though he was shorter by the head than herself. She had +heard his music, and evidently had danced after it. The fiddler and +fiddle together filled up her ambition. But the old people!--they were +in perfect hysterics of wrath and indignation. Their daughter!--with the +exception of one brother, now absent on a visit to his uncle in Hungary, +a great gold-miner in the Carpathian mountains, the sole remnant of an +old, substantial house, which had fed their flocks and their herds on +the hills for three generations, and now drew wealth from the heart of +these hills themselves! It was death! poison! pestilence! The girl must +be mad; the hop-o'-my-thumb scoundrel must carry witch-powder! + +Nevertheless, as Hans and the damsel were agreed, every thing +else--threats, denunciations, sarcasms, cuttings-off with a shilling, +and loss of a ponderous dowry--all went for nothing. They were married, +as some thousands were before them in just the like circumstances. But +if the Bohemian maid was not mad, it must be confessed that Hans was +rather so. He was monstrously exasperated at the contempt heaped by the +heavy bergman on the future Buergermeister of Rapps, and determined to +show a little spirit. As his fiddle entered into all his schemes, he +resolved to have music at his wedding; and no sooner did he and his +bride issue from the church, than out broke the harmony which he had +provided. The fiddle played merrily, "You'll repent, repent, repent; +you'll repent, repent, repent;" and the bassoon answered, in surly +tones, "And soon! and soon!" "I hope, my dear," said the bride, "You +don't mean the words for us." "No, love," explained Hans, gallantly; "I +don't say 'we,' but 'you'--that is, certain haughty people on these +hills that shall be nameless." Then the music played till they reached +the inn where they dined, and then set off in a handsome hired carriage +for Rapps. + +It is true, that there was little happiness in this affair to any one. +The old people were full of anger, curses, and threats of total +disownment. Hans's pride was pricked, and perforated, till he was as +sore as if he had been tattooed with his own needle; and his wife was +completely drowned in sorrow at such a parting with her parents, and +with no little sense of remorse for her disobedience. Nevertheless, they +reached home; things began gradually to assume a more composed aspect. +Hans loved his wife; she loved him; he was industrious, she was careful; +and they trusted, in time, to bring her parents round, when they should +see that they were doing well in the world. + +Again the saving scheme began to haunt Hans; but he had one luckless +notion, which was destined to cost him no little vexation. With the +stock of the shop, he had inherited from his father a stock of old +maxims, which, unluckily, had not got burnt in the fire with the rest of +the patrimonial heritage. Among these was one, that a woman can not keep +a secret. Acting on this creed, Hans not only never told his wife of the +project of becoming Buergermeister of Rapps, but he did not even give her +reason to suppose that he laid up a shilling; and that she might not +happen to stumble upon his money, he took care to carry it always about +him. It was his delight, when he got into a quiet corner, or as he came +along a retired lane, from his errands, to take it out and count it; and +calculate when it would amount to this and that sum, and when the full +sum would be really his own. Now, it happened one day, that having been +a good deal absorbed in these speculations, he had loitered a precious +piece of time away; and suddenly coming to himself, he set off, as was +his wont, on a kind of easy trot, in which, his small, light form thrown +forward, his pale, gray-eyed, earnest-looking visage thrown up toward +the sky, and his long blue coat flying in a stream behind him, he cut +one of the most extraordinary figures in the world; and checking his +pace as he entered the town, he involuntarily clapped his hand on his +pocket, and behold! his money was gone! It had slipped away through a +hole it had worn. In the wildness and bitterness of his loss, he turned +back, heartily cursing the spinner and the weaver of that most +detestable piece of buckram that composed his breeches-pocket, for +having put it together so villainously that it broke down with the +carriage of a few dollars, halfpence, thimbles, balls of wax and thread, +and a few other sundries, after the trifling wear of seven years, nine +months, and nineteen days. + +He was peering, step by step, after his lost treasure, when up came his +wife, running like one wild, and telling him that he must come that +instant; for the Ritter of Flachenflaps had brought in new liveries for +all his servants, and threatened if he did not see Hans in five minutes, +he would carry the work over to the other side of the street. There was +a perplexity! The money was not to be found, and if it were found in the +presence of his wife, he would regard it as no better than lost. He was +therefore obliged to excuse his conduct, being caught in the act of +poring after something, to tell, if not a lie, at least the very +smallest part of the truth, and say that he had lost his thimble. The +money was not found, and to make bad worse, he was in danger of losing a +good job, and all the Ritter's work forever, as a consequence. + +Away he ran, therefore, groaning inwardly, at full speed, and, arriving +out of breath, saw the Ritter's carriage drawn up at his opponent's +door. Wormwood upon wormwood! His money was lost; his best customer was +lost, and thrown into the jaws of the detested Hippopotamus. There he +beheld him and his man in a prime bustle from day to day, while his own +house was deserted. All people went where the Ritter went, of course. +The Hippopotamus was now grazing and browsing through Hans's richest +meadows with a vengeance. He was flourishing out of all bounds. He had +got a horse to ride out on and take orders, and to all appearance was +likely to become Buergermeister ten years before Hans had got ten dollars +of his own. + +It was too much for even his sanguine temperament; he sank down to the +very depths of despair; his fiddle had lost its music; he could not +abide to hear it; he sate moody and disconsolate, with a beard an inch +long. His wife for some time hoped it would go off; but, seeing it come +to this, she began to console and advise, to rouse his courage and his +spirits. She told him it was that horse which gave the advantage to his +neighbor. While he went trudging on foot, wearying himself, and wasting +his time, people came, grew weary, and would not wait. She offered, +therefore, to borrow her neighbor's ass for him; and advised him to ride +out daily a little way. It would look as though he had business in the +country. It would look as if his time was precious; it would look well, +and do his health good into the bargain. Hans liked her counsel; it +sounded well--nay, exceedingly discreet. He always thought her a gem of +a woman, but he never imagined her half so able. What a pity a woman +could not be trusted with a secret! Were it not for that, she would be a +helpmate past all reckoning. + +The ass, however, was got: out rode Hans; looked amazingly hurried; and, +being half-crazed with care, people thought he was half-crazed with +stress of business. Work came in; things went flowingly on again; Hans +blessed his stars; and as he grasped his cash, he every day stitched it +into the crown of his cap, taking paper-money for the purpose. No more +pots, no more hiding-holes, no more breeches-pockets for him; he put it +under the guardianship of his own strong thread and dexterous needle; +and all went on exceedingly well. + +Accidents will, however, occur, if men will not trust their wives; and +especially if they will not avoid awkward habits. Now, Hans had a +strange habit of sticking his needles on his breeches-knees as he sat at +work; and sometimes he would have half-a-dozen on each knee for +half-a-dozen days. His wife often told him to take them out when he came +down from his board, and often took them out herself; but it was of no +use. He was just in this case one day as he rode out to take measure of +a gentleman, about five miles off. The ass, to his thinking, was in a +remarkably brisk mood. Off it went, without whip or spur, at a good +active trot, and, not satisfied with trotting, soon fairly proceeded to +a gallop. Hans was full of wonder at the beast. Commonly it tired his +arm worse with thrashing it during his hour's ride, than the exercise of +his goose and sleeve-board did for a whole day; but now he was fain to +pull it in. It was to no purpose; faster than ever it dashed on, +prancing, running sideways, wincing, and beginning to show a most ugly +temper. What, in the name of all Balaams, could possess the animal, he +could not for his life conceive! The only chance of safety appeared to +lie in clinging with both arms and legs to it, like a boa-constrictor to +its victim, when, shy!--away it flew, as if it were driven by a legion +of devils. In another moment, it stopped; down went its head, up went +its infernal heels; and Hans found himself some ten yards off, in the +middle of a pool. He escaped drowning, but the cap was gone; he had been +foolish enough to stitch some dollars, in hard cash, recently received, +into it along with his paper, and they sunk it, past recovery! He came +home, dripping like a drowned mouse, with a most deplorable tale; but +with no more knowledge of the cause of his disaster than the man in the +moon, till he tore his fingers on the needles, in abstracting his wet +clothes. + +Fortune now seemed to have said, as plainly as she could speak, "Hans, +confide in your wife. You see all your schemes without her fail. Open +your heart to her--deal fairly, generously, and you will reap the merits +of it." It was all in vain--he had not yet come to his senses. Obstinate +as a mule--he determined to try once more. But good-by to the ass! The +only thing he resolved to mount was his shop board--that bore him well, +and brought him continued good, could he only continue to keep it. + +His wife, I said, came from the mountains; she, therefore, liked the +sight of trees. Now, in Hans's back-yard there was neither tree nor +turf, so she got some tubs, and in them she planted a variety of +fir-trees, which made a pleasant appearance, and gave a help to her +imagination of the noble firs of her native scenes. In one of these +tubs, Hans conceived the singular design of depositing his future +treasure. "Nobody, will meddle with them," he thought, so accordingly, +from week to week, he concealed in one of them his acquisitions. It had +gone on a long time. He had been out one day, collecting some of his +debts--he had succeeded beyond his hopes, and came back exulting. The +sum was saved; and, in the gladness of his heart, he bought his wife a +new gown. He bounded into the house with the lightness of seventeen. His +wife was not there--he looked into the back-yard. Saints and angels! +what is that? He beheld his wife busy with the tubs. The trees were +uprooted, and laid on the ground, and every particle of soil was thrown +out of the tubs. In the delirium of consternation, he flew to ask what +she had been doing. + +"Oh! the trees, poor things, did not flourish; they looked sickly and +pining; she determined to give them some soil more suitable to their +natures; she had thrown the earth into the river, at the bottom of the +yard." + +"And you have thrown into the river," exclaimed Hans, frantically, "the +hoarding of three years; the money which had cost me many a weary +day--many an anxious night. The money which would have made our +fortunes--in short, that would have made me Buergermeister of Rapps." +Completely thrown off his guard, he betrayed his secret. + +"Good gracious!" cried his wife, exceedingly alarmed; "why did you not +tell me of it?" + +"Ay, that is the question!" said he. And it was a question; for, spite +of himself, it had occurred to his mind some dozens of times, and now it +came so overwhelmingly, that even when he thought he treated it with +contempt, it had fixed itself upon his better reason, and never left him +till it had worked a most fortunate revolution. He said to himself, "Had +I told my wife of it at the first, it could not possibly have happened +worse; and it is very likely it would have happened better. For the +future, then, be it so." + +Thereupon, he unfolded to her the whole history and mystery of his +troubles, and his hopes. Now, Mrs. Hans Nadeltreiber had great cause to +feel herself offended, most grievously offended; but she was not at all +of a touchy temperament. She was a sweet, tender, patient, loving +creature, who desired her husband's honor and prosperity beyond any +thing; so she sate down, and in the most mild, yet acute and able +manner, laid down to him a plan of operations, and promised him such +aids and succors, that, struck at once with shame, contrition, and +admiration, he sprung up, clasped her to his heart, called her the very +gem of womanhood, and skipped two or three times across the floor, like +a man gone out of his senses. The truth is, however, he was but just +come into them. + +From this day, a new life was begun in Hans's house. There he sat at his +work; there sat his wife by his side; aiding and contriving with a +woman's wit, a woman's love, and a woman's adroitness. She was worth ten +journeymen. Work never came in faster; never gave such satisfaction; +never brought in so much money; nor, besides this, was there ever such +harmony in the house, nor had they ever held such delectable discourse +together. There was nothing to conceal. Hans's thoughts flowed like a +great stream; and when they grew a little wild and visionary, as they +were apt to do, his wife smoothened and reduced them to sobriety, with +such a delicate touch, that, so far from feeling offended, he was +delighted beyond expression with her prudence. The fifty dollars were +raised in almost no time; and, as if prognostic of its becoming the seed +of a fortune, it came in most opportunely for purchasing a lot of cloth, +which more than trebled its cost, and gave infinite satisfaction to his +customers. Hans saw that the tide was rapidly rising with him, and his +wife urged him to push on with it; to take a larger house; to get more +hands; and to cut such a figure as should at once eclipse his rival. The +thing was done; but as their capital was still found scanty enough for +such an undertaking, Mrs. Nadeltreiber resolved to try what she could do +to increase it. + +I should have informed the reader, had not the current of Hans's +disasters ran too strong for me, that his wife's parents were dead, and +had died without giving her any token of reconciliation--a circumstance +which, although it cut her to the heart, did not quite cast her down, +feeling that she had done nothing but what a parent might forgive, being +all of us creatures alike liable to error, demanding alike some little +indulgence for our weaknesses and our fancies. Her brother was now sole +representative of the family; and knowing the generosity of his nature, +she determined to pay him a visit, although, for the first time since +her marriage, in a condition very unfit for traveling. She went. Her +brother received her with all his early affection. In his house was born +her first child; and so much did she and her bantling win upon his +heart, that when the time came that she must return, nothing would serve +but he would take her himself. She had been so loud in Hans's praise, +that he determined to go and shake him by the hand. It would have done +any one good to have seen this worthy mountaineer setting forth, seated +in his neat, green-painted wicker wagon; his sister by his side, and the +child snugly-bedded in his own corn-hopper at their feet. Thus did they +go statelily, with his great black horse drawing them. It would have +been equally pleasant to see him set down his charge at the door of +Hans's house, and behold with wonder that merry mannikin, all smiles and +gesticulation, come forth to receive them. The contrast between Hans and +his brother-in-law was truly amusing. He, a shadow-like homunculus, so +light and dry, that any wind threatened to blow him before it; the +bergman, with a countenance like the rising sun, the stature of a giant, +and limbs like an elephant. Hans watched, with considerable anxiety, the +experiment of his kinsman seating himself in a chair. The chair, +however, stood firm; and the good man surveyed Hans, in return, with a +curious and critical air, as if doubtful whether he must not hold him +in contempt for the want of that solid matter of which he himself had +too much. Hans's good qualities, however, got the better of him. "The +man's a man, though," said he to himself, very philosophically, "and as +he is good to my sister, he shall know of it." Hans delighted him every +evening, by the powers of his violin; and the bergman, excessively fond +of music, like most of his countrymen, declared that he might perform in +the emperor's orchestra, and find nobody there to beat him. When he took +his leave, therefore, he seized one of Hans's hands with a cordial gripe +that was felt through every limb, and into the other he put a bag of one +thousand rix dollars, saying, "My sister ought not to have come +dowerless into a good husband's house. This is properly her own: take +it, and much good may it do you." + +Our story need not be prolonged. The new tailor soon fled before the +star of Hans's ascendency. A very few years saw him installed into the +office of Buergermeister, the highest of earthly honors in his eyes; and +if he had one trouble left, it was only in the reflection that he might +have attained his wishes years before had he understood the heart of a +good woman. The worshipful Herr Buergermeister, and Frau Buergermeisterin +of Rapps, often visited their colossal brother of the Boehmerwald, and +were thought to reflect no discredit on the old bergman family. + + + + +[From Dickens's "Household Words."] + +LITTLE MARY.--A TALE OF THE IRISH FAMINE. + + +That was a pleasant place where I was born, though 'twas only a thatched +cabin by the side of a mountain stream, where the country was so lonely, +that in summer time the wild ducks used to bring their young ones to +feed on the bog, within a hundred yards of our door; and you could not +stoop over the bank to raise a pitcher full of water, without +frightening a shoal of beautiful speckled trout. Well, 'tis long ago +since my brother Richard, that's now grown a fine, clever man, God bless +him! and myself, used to set off together up the mountain to pick +bunches of the cotton plant and the bog myrtle, and to look for birds' +and wild bees' nests. 'Tis long ago--and though I'm happy and well off +now, living in the big house as own maid to the young ladies, who, on +account of my being foster-sister to poor darling Miss Ellen, that died +of decline, treat me more like their equal than their servant, and give +me the means to improve myself; still, at times, especially when James +Sweeney, a dacent boy of the neighbors, and myself are taking a walk +together through the fields in the cool and quiet of a summer's evening, +I can't help thinking of the times that are passed, and talking about +them to James with a sort of peaceful sadness, more happy, maybe, than +if we ware laughing aloud. + +Every evening, before I say my prayers, I read a chapter in the Bible +that Miss Ellen gave me; and last night I felt my tears dropping forever +so long over one verse, "And God shall wipe away all tears from their +eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, +neither shall there be any more pain; for the former things are passed +away." The words made me think of them that are gone--of my father, and +his wife that was a true, fond mother to me; and above all, of my little +sister Mary, the _clureen bawn_[F] that nestled in her bosom. + +I was a wild slip of a girl, ten years of age, and my brother Richard +about two years older, when my father brought home his second wife. She +was the daughter of a farmer up at Lackabawn, and was reared with care +and dacency; but her father held his ground at a rack-rent, and the +middleman that was between him and the head landlord did not pay his own +rent, so the place was ejected, and the farmer collected every penny he +had, and set off with his family to America. My father had a liking for +the youngest daughter, and well become him to have it, for a sweeter +creature never drew the breath of life; but while her father passed for +a _strong_[G] farmer, he was timorous-like about asking her to share his +little cabin; however, when he found how matters stood, he didn't lose +much time in finding out that she was willing to be his wife, and a +mother to his boy and girl. _That_ she was, a patient loving one. Oh! it +often sticks me like a knife, when I think how many times I fretted her +with my foolishness and my idle ways, and how 'twas a long time before +I'd call her "mother." Often, when my father would be going to chastise +Richard and myself for our provoking doings, especially the day that we +took half-a-dozen eggs from under the hatching hen, to play "Blind Tom" +with them, she'd interfere for us, and say, "Tim, _aleagh_, don't touch +them this time; sure 'tis only _arch_ they are: they'll get more sense +in time." And then, after he was gone out, she'd advise us for our good +so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn't look black at her. +She did wonders, too, about the house and garden. They were both dirty +and neglected enough when she first came over them; for I was too young +and foolish, and my father too busy with his out-door work, and the old +woman that lived with us in service too feeble and too blind to keep the +place either clean or decent; but my mother got the floor raised, and +the green pool in front drained, and a parcel of roses and honey-suckles +planted there instead. The neighbors' wives used to say, 'twas all pride +and upsetting folly, to keep the kitchen-floor swept clean, and to put +the potatoes on a dish, instead of emptying them out of the pot into the +middle of the table; and, besides, 'twas a cruel, unnatural thing, they +said, to take away the pool from the ducks, that they were always used +to paddle in so handy. But my mother was always too busy and too happy +to heed what they said; and, besides, she was always so ready to do a +kind turn for any of them, that, out of poor shame, they had at last to +leave off abusing her "fine English ways." + +West of our house there was a straggling, stony piece of ground, where, +within the memory of man nothing ever grew but nettles, docks, and +thistles. One Monday, when Richard and myself came in from school, my +mother told us to set about weeding it, and to bring in some basketfuls +of good clay from the banks of the river; she said that if we worked +well at it until Saturday, she'd bring me a new frock, and Dick a +jacket, from the next market-town; and encouraged by this, we set to +work with right good will, and didn't leave off till supper time. The +next day we did the same; and by degrees, when we saw the heap of weeds +and stones that we got out, growing big, and the ground looking nice and +smooth and red and rich, we got quite anxious about it ourselves, and we +built a nice little fence round it to keep out the pigs. When it was +manured, my mother planted cabbages, parsnips, and onions in it; and, to +be sure, she got a fine crop out of it, enough to make us many a nice +supper of vegetables stewed with pepper, and a small taste of bacon or a +red herring. Besides, she sold in the market as much as bought a Sunday +coat for my father, a gown for herself, a fine pair of shoes for Dick, +and as pretty a shawl for myself, as e'er a colleen in the country could +show at mass. Through means of my father's industry and my mother's good +management, we were, with the blessing of God, as snug and comfortable a +poor family as any in Munster. We paid but a small rent, and we had +always plenty of potatoes to eat, good clothes to wear, and cleanliness +and decency in and about our little cabin. + +Five years passed on in this way, and at last little Mary was born. She +was a delicate fairy thing, with that look, even from the first, in her +blue eyes, which is seldom seen, except where the shadow of the grave +darkens the cradle. She was fond of her father, and of Richard, and of +myself, and would laugh and crow when she saw us, but _the love in the +core of her heart_ was for her mother. No matter how tired, or sleepy, +or cross the baby might be, one word from _her_ would set the bright +eyes dancing, and the little rosy month smiling, and the tiny limbs +quivering, as if walking or running couldn't content her, but she must +fly to her mother's arms. And how that mother doted on the very ground +she trod! I often thought that the Queen in her state carriage, with her +son, God bless him! alongside of her, dressed out in gold and jewels, +was not one bit happier than my mother, when she sat under the shade of +the mountain ash, near the door, in the hush of the summer's evening, +singing and _cronauning_ her only one to sleep in her arms. In the month +of October, 1845, Mary was four years old. That was the bitter time, +when first the food of the earth was turned to poison; when the gardens +that used to be so bright and sweet, covered with the purple and white +potato blossoms, became in one night black and offensive, as if fire had +come down from heaven to burn them up. 'Twas a heart-breaking thing to +see the laboring men, the crathurs! that had only the one half-acre to +feed their little families, going out, after work, in the evenings to +dig their suppers from under the black stalks. Spadeful after spadeful +would be turned up, and a long piece of a ridge dug through, before +they'd get a small kish full of such withered _crohauneens_,[H] as other +years would be hardly counted fit for the pigs. + +It was some time before the distress reached us, for there was a trifle +of money in the savings' bank, that held us in meal, while the neighbors +were next door to starvation. As long as my father and mother had it, +they shared it freely with them that were worse off than themselves; but +at last the little penny of money was all spent, the price of flour was +raised; and, to make matters worse, the farmer that my father worked +for, at a poor eight-pence a day, was forced to send him and three more +of his laborers away, as he couldn't afford to pay them even _that_ any +longer. Oh! 'twas a sorrowful night when my father brought home the +news. I remember, as well as if I saw it yesterday, the desolate look in +his face when he sat down by the ashes of the turf fire that had just +baked a yellow meal cake for his supper. My mother was at the opposite +side, giving little Mary a drink of sour milk out of her little wooden +piggin, and the child didn't like it, being delicate and always used to +sweet milk, so she said: + +"Mammy, won't you give me some of the nice milk instead of that?" + +"I haven't it _asthore_, nor can't get it," said her mother, "so don't +ye fret." + +Not a word more out of the little one's mouth, only she turned her +little cheek in toward her mother, and staid quite quiet, as if she was +hearkening to what was going on. + +"Judy," said my father, "God is good, and sure 'tis only in Him we must +put our trust; for in the wide world I can see nothing but starvation +before us." + +"God _is_ good, Tim," replied my mother; "He won't forsake us." + +Just then Richard came in with a more joyful face than I had seen on him +for many a day. + +"Good news!" says he, "good news, father! there's work for us both on +the Droumcarra road. The government works are to begin there to-morrow; +you'll get eight-pence a day, and I'll get six-pence." + +If you saw our delight when we heard this, you'd think 'twas the free +present of a thousand pounds that came to us, falling through the roof, +instead of an offer of small wages for hard work. + +To be sure the potatoes were gone, and the yellow meal was dear and dry +and chippy--it hadn't the _nature_ about it that a hot potato has for a +poor man; but still 'twas a great thing to have the prospect of getting +enough of even that same, and not to be obliged to follow the rest of +the country into the poor-house, which was crowded to that degree that +the crathurs there--God help them!--hadn't room even to die quietly in +their beds, but were crowded together on the floor like so many dogs in +a kennel. The next morning my father and Richard were off before +daybreak, for they had a long way to walk to Droumcarra, and they should +be there in time to begin work. They took an Indian meal cake with them +to eat for their dinner, and poor dry food it was, with only a draught +of cold water to wash it down. Still my father, who was knowledgeable +about such things, always said it was mighty wholesome when it was well +cooked; but some of the poor people took a great objection against it on +account of the yellow color, which they thought came from having sulphur +mixed with it--and they said, Indeed it was putting a great affront on +the decent Irish to mix up their food as if 'twas for mangy dogs. Glad +enough, poor creatures, they were to get it afterward, when sea-weed and +nettles, and the very grass by the roadside, was all that many of them +had to put into their mouths. + +When my father and brother came home in the evening, faint and tired +from the two long walks and the day's work, my mother would always try +to have something for them to eat with their porridge--a bit of butter, +or a bowl of thick milk, or maybe a few eggs. She always gave me plenty +as far as it would go; but 'twas little she took herself. She would +often go entirely without a meal, and then she'd slip down to the +huckster's, and buy a little white bun for Mary; and I'm sure it used to +do her more good to see the child eat it, than if she had got a +meat-dinner for herself. No matter how hungry the poor little thing +might be, she'd always break off a bit to put into her mother's mouth, +and she would not be satisfied until she saw her swallow it; then the +child would take a drink of cold water out of her little tin porringer, +as contented as if it was new milk. + +As the winter advanced, the weather became wet and bitterly cold, and +the poor men working on the roads began to suffer dreadfully from being +all day in wet clothes, and, what was worse, not having any change to +put on when they went home at night without a dry thread about them. +Fever soon got among them, and my father took it. My mother brought the +doctor to see him, and by selling all our decent clothes, she got for +him whatever was wanting, but all to no use: 'twas the will of the Lord +to take him to himself, and he died after a few days' illness. + +It would be hard to tell the sorrow that his widow and orphans felt, +when they saw the fresh sods planted on his grave. It was not grief +altogether like the grand stately grief of the quality, although maybe +the same sharp knife is sticking into the same sore bosom _inside_ in +both; but the _outside_ differs in rich and poor. I saw the mistress a +week after Miss Ellen died. She was in her drawing-room with the blinds +pulled down, sitting in a low chair, with her elbow on the small +work-table, and her cheek resting on her hand--not a speck of any thing +white about her but the cambric handkerchief, and the face that was +paler than the marble chimney-piece. + +When she saw me (for the butler, being busy, sent me in with the +luncheon-tray), she covered her eyes with her handkerchief, and began to +cry, but quietly, as if she did not want it to be noticed. As I was +going out, I just heard her say to Miss Alice in a choking voice: + +"Keep Sally here always; our poor darling was fond of her." And as I +closed the door, I heard her give one deep sob. The next time I saw her, +she was quite composed; only for the white cheek and the black dress, +you would not know that the burning feel of a child's last kiss had ever +touched her lips. + +My father's wife mourned for him after another fashion. _She_ could not +sit quiet, she must work hard to keep the life in them to whom he gave +it; and it was only in the evenings when she sat down before the fire +with Mary in her arms, that she used to sob and rock herself to and fro, +and sing a low, wailing keen for the father of the little one, whose +innocent tears were always ready to fall when she saw her mother cry. +About this time my mother got an offer from some of the hucksters in the +neighborhood, who knew her honesty, to go three times a week to the next +market-town, ten miles off, with their little money, and bring them back +supplies of bread, groceries, soap, and candles. This she used to do, +walking the twenty miles--ten of them with a heavy load on her back--for +the sake of earning enough to keep us alive. 'Twas very seldom that +Richard could get a stroke of work to do: the boy wasn't strong in +himself, for he had the sickness too; though he recovered from it, and +always did his best to earn an honest penny wherever he could. I often +wanted my mother to let me go in her stead and bring back the load; but +she never would hear of it, and kept me at home to mind the house and +little Mary. My poor pet lamb! 'twas little minding she wanted. She +would go after breakfast and sit at the door, and stop there all day, +watching for her mother, and never heeding the neighbors' children that +used to come wanting her to play. Through the live-long hours she would +never stir, but just keep her eyes fixed on the lonesome _boreen_;[I] +and when the shadow of the mountain-ash grew long, and she caught a +glimpse of her mother ever so far off, coming toward home, the joy that +would flush on the small, patient face, was brighter than the sunbeam on +the river. And faint and weary as the poor woman used to be, before ever +she sat down, she'd have Mary nestling in her bosom. No matter how +little she might have eaten herself that day, she would always bring +home a little white bun for Mary; and the child, that had tasted nothing +since morning, would eat it so happily, and then fall quietly asleep in +her mother's arms. + +At the end of some months I got the sickness myself, but not so heavily +as Richard did before. Any way, he and my mother tended me well through +it. They sold almost every little stick of furniture that was left, to +buy me drink and medicine. By degrees I recovered, and the first evening +I was able to sit up, I noticed a strange, wild brightness in my +mother's eyes, and a hot flush on her thin cheeks--she had taken the +fever. + +Before she lay down on the wisp of straw that served her for a bed, she +brought little Mary over to me: "Take her, Sally," she said--and between +every word she gave the child a kiss--"take her; she's safer with you +than she'd be with me, for you're over the sickness, and 'tisn't long +any way, I'll be with you, my jewel," she said, as she gave the little +creature one long close hug, and put her into my arms. + +'Twould take long to tell all about her sickness--how Richard and I, as +good right we had, tended her night and day; and how, when every +farthing and farthing's worth we had in the world was gone, the mistress +herself came down from the big house, the very day after the family +returned home from France, and brought wine, food, medicine, linen, and +every thing we could want. + +Shortly after the kind lady was gone, my mother took the change for +death; her senses came back, she grew quite strong-like, and sat up +straight in the bed. + +"Bring me the child, Sally, _aleagh_," she said. And when I carried +little Mary over to her, she looked into the tiny face, as if she was +reading it like a book. + +"You won't be long away from me, my own one," she said, while her tears +fell down upon the child like summer-rain. + +"Mother," said I, as well as I could speak for crying, "sure you _Know_ +I'll do my best to tend her." + +"I know you will, _acushla_; you were always a true and dutiful daughter +to me and to him that's gone; but, Sally, there's _that_ in my weeny one +that won't let her thrive without the mother's hand over her, and the +mother's heart for hers to lean against. And now--" It was all she could +say: she just clasped the little child to her bosom, fell back on my +arm, and in a few moments all was over. At first, Richard and I could +not believe that she was dead; and it was very long before the orphan +would loose her hold of the stiffening fingers; but when the neighbors +came in to prepare for the wake, we contrived to flatter her away. + +Days passed on; the child was very quiet; she used to go as usual to sit +at the door, and watch, hour after hour, along the road that her mother +always took coming home from market, waiting for her that could never +come again. When the sun was near setting, her gaze used to be more +fixed and eager; but when the darkness came on, her blue eyes used to +droop like the flowers that shut up their leaves, and she would come in +quietly without saying a word, and allow me to undress her and put her +to bed. + +It troubled us and the young ladies greatly that she would not eat. It +was almost impossible to get her to taste a morsel; indeed the only +thing she would let inside her lips was a bit of a little white bun, +like those her poor mother used to bring her. There was nothing left +untried to please her. I carried her up to the big house, thinking the +change might do her good, and the ladies petted her, and talked to her, +and gave her heaps of toys and cakes, and pretty frocks and coats; but +she hardly noticed them, and was restless and uneasy until she got back +to her own low, sunny door-step. + +Every day she grew paler and thinner, and her bright eyes had a sad, +fond look in them, so like her mother's. One evening she sat at the door +later than usual. + +"Come in, _alannah_," I said to her. "Won't you come in for your own +Sally?" + +She never stirred. I went over to her; she was quite still, with her +little hands crossed on her lap, and her head drooping on her chest. I +touched her--she was cold. I gave a loud scream, and Richard came +running; he stopped and looked, and then burst out crying like an +infant. Our little sister was dead! + +Well, my Mary, the sorrow was bitter, but it was short. You're gone home +to Him that comforts as a mother comforteth. _Agra machree_, your eyes +are as blue, and your hair as golden, and your voice as sweet, as they +were when you watched by the cabin-door; but your cheeks are not pale, +_acushla_, nor your little hands thin, and the shade of sorrow has +passed away from your forehead like a rain-cloud from the summer sky. +She that loved you so on earth, has clasped you forever to her bosom in +heaven; and God himself has wiped away all tears from your eyes, and +placed you both and our own dear father, far beyond the touch of sorrow +or the fear of death. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[F] White dove. + +[G] Rich. + +[H] Small potatoes. + +[I] By-road. + + + + +THE OLD WELL IN LANGUEDOC. + + +The proof of the truth of the following statement, taken from the +_Courrier de l'Europe_, rests not only upon the known veracity of the +narrator, but upon the fact that the whole occurrence is registered in +the judicial records of the criminal trials of the province of +Languedoc. We give it as we heard it from the lips of the dreamer, as +nearly as possible in his own words. + +As the junior partner in a commercial house at Lyons, I had been +traveling some time on the business of the firm, when, one evening in +the month of June, I arrived at a town in Languedoc where I had never +before been. I put up at a quiet inn in the suburbs, and, being very +much fatigued, ordered dinner at once; and went to bed almost +immediately after, determined to begin very early in the morning my +visits to the different merchants. + +I was no sooner in bed than I fell into a deep sleep, and had a +dream that made the strongest impression upon me. + +I thought that I had arrived at the same town, but in the middle of the +day, instead of the evening, as was really the case; that I had stopped +at the very same inn, and gone out immediately, as an unoccupied +stranger would do, to see whatever was worthy of observation in the +place. I walked down the main street, into another street, crossing it +at right angles, and apparently leading into the country. I had not gone +very far, when I came to a church, the Gothic portico of which I stopped +to examine. When I had satisfied my curiosity, I advanced to a by-path +which branched off from the main street. Obeying an impulse which I +could neither account for nor control, I struck into the path, though it +was winding, rugged, and unfrequented, and presently reached a miserable +cottage, in front of which was a garden covered with weeds. I had no +difficulty in getting into the garden, for the hedge had several gaps in +it, wide enough to admit four carts abreast. I approached an old well, +which stood solitary and gloomy in a distant corner; and looking down +into it, I beheld distinctly, without any possibility of mistake, a +corpse which had been stabbed in several places. I counted the deep +wounds and the wide gashes whence the blood was flowing. + +I would have cried out, but my tongue clove to the roof of my mouth. At +this moment I awoke, with my hair on end, trembling in every limb, and +cold drops of perspiration bedewing my forehead--awoke to find myself +comfortably in bed, my trunk standing beside me, birds warbling +cheerfully around my window; while a young, clear voice was singing a +provincial air in the next room, and the morning sun was shining +brightly through the curtains. + +I sprung from my bed, dressed myself, and, as it was yet very early, I +thought I would seek an appetite for breakfast by a morning stroll. I +accordingly entered the main street, and went along. The farther I +walked, the stranger became the confused recollection of the objects +that presented themselves to my view. "It is very strange," I thought; +"I have never been here before; and I could swear that I have seen this +house, and the next, and that other on the left." On I went, till I came +to the corner of a street, crossing the one down which I had come. For +the first time, I remembered my dream, but put away the thought as too +absurd; still, at every step, some fresh point of resemblance struck me. +"Am I still dreaming!" I exclaimed, not without a momentary thrill +through my whole frame. "Is the agreement to be perfect to the very +end?" Before long, I reached the church, with the same architectural +features that had attracted my notice in the dream; and then the +high-road, along which I pursued my way, coming at length to the same +by-path that had presented itself to my imagination a few hours before. +There was no possibility of doubt or mistake. Every tree, every turn, +was familiar to me. I was not at all of a superstitious turn, and was +wholly engrossed in the practical details of commercial business. My +mind had never dwelt upon the hallucinations, the presentiments, that +science either denies, or is unable to explain; but I must confess, that +I now felt myself spell-bound, as by some enchantment; and, with +Pascal's words on my lips, "A continued dream would be equal to +reality," I hurried forward, no longer doubting that the next moment +would bring me to the cottage; and this really was the case. In all its +outward circumstances, it corresponded to what I had seen in my dream. +Who, then, could wonder that I determined to ascertain whether the +coincidence would hold good in every other point? I entered the garden, +and went direct to the spot on which I had seen the well; but here the +resemblance failed--well, there was none. I looked in every direction; +examined the whole garden, went round the cottage, which appeared to be +inhabited, although no person was visible; but nowhere could I find any +vestige of a well. + +I made no attempt to enter the cottage, but hastened back to the hotel, +in a state of agitation difficult to describe. I could not make up my +mind to pass unnoticed such extraordinary coincidences; but how was any +clew to be obtained to the terrible mystery? + +I went to the landlord, and after chatting with him for some time on +different subjects, I came to the point, and asked him directly to whom +the cottage belonged that was on a by-road which I described to him. + +"I wonder, sir," said he, "what made you take such particular notice of +such a wretched little hovel. It is inhabited by an old man with his +wife, who have the character of being very morose and unsociable. They +rarely leave the house--see nobody, and nobody goes to see them; but +they are quiet enough, and I never heard any thing against them beyond +this. Of late, their very existence seems to have been forgotten; and I +believe, sir, that you are the first who, for years, has turned his +steps to the deserted spot." + +These details, far from satisfying my curiosity, did but provoke it the +more. Breakfast was served, but I could not touch it; and I felt that if +I presented myself to the merchants in such a state of excitement, they +would think me mad; and, indeed, I felt very much excited. I paced up +and down the room, looked out at the window, trying to fix my attention +on some external object, but in vain. I endeavored to interest myself in +a quarrel between two men in the street; but the garden and the cottage +preoccupied my mind; and, at last, snatching my hat, I cried, "I will +go, come what may." + +I repaired to the nearest magistrate, told him the object of my visit, +and related the whole circumstance briefly and clearly. I saw directly +that he was much impressed by my statement. + +"It is, indeed, very strange," said he, "and after what has happened, I +do not think I am at liberty to leave the matter without further +inquiry. Important business will prevent my accompanying you in a +search, but I will place two of the police at your command. Go once more +to the hovel, see its inhabitants, and search every part of it. You may, +perhaps, make some important discovery." + +I suffered but a very few moments to elapse before I was on my way, +accompanied by the two officers, and we soon reached the cottage. We +knocked, and after waiting for some time, an old man opened the door. He +received us somewhat uncivilly, but showed no mark of suspicion, nor, +indeed, of any other emotion, when we told him we wished to search the +house. + +"Very well, gentlemen; as fast, and as soon as you please," he replied. + +"Have you a well here?" I inquired. + +"No, sir; we are obliged to go for water to a spring at a considerable +distance." + +We searched the house, which I did, I confess, with a kind of feverish +excitement, expecting every moment to bring some fatal secret to light. +Meantime, the man gazed upon us with an impenetrable vacancy of look, +and we at last left the cottage without seeing any thing that could +confirm my suspicions. I resolved to inspect the garden once more; and a +number of idlers having been by this time collected, drawn to the spot +by the sight of a stranger with two armed men engaged in searching the +premises, I made inquiries of some of them whether they knew any thing +about a well in that place. I could get no information at first, but at +length an old woman came slowly forward, leaning on a crutch. + +"A well!" cried she; "is it the well you are looking after? That has +been gone these thirty years. I remember, as if it were only yesterday, +many a time, when I was a young girl, how I used to amuse myself by +throwing stones into it, and hearing the splash they used to make in the +water." + +"And could you tell where that well used to be?" I asked, almost +breathless with excitement. + +"As near as I can remember, on the very spot on which your honor is +standing," said the old woman. + +"I could have sworn it!" thought I, springing from the place as if I had +trod upon a scorpion. + +Need I say, that we set to work to dig up the ground. At about eighteen +inches deep, we came to a layer of bricks, which, being broken up, gave +to view some boards, which were easily removed; after which we beheld +the mouth of the well. + +"I was quite sure it was here," said the woman. "What a fool the old +fellow was to stop it up, and then have so far to go for water!" + +A sounding-line, furnished with hooks, was let down into the well; the +crowd pressing around us, and breathlessly bending over the dark and +fetid hole, the secrets of which seemed hidden in impenetrable +obscurity. This was repeated several times without any result. At +length, penetrating below the mud, the hooks caught an old chest, upon +the top of which had been thrown a great many large stones; and after +much effort and time, we succeeded in raising it to daylight. The sides +and lid were decayed and rotten; it needed no locksmith to open it; and +we found within, what I was certain we should find, and which paralyzed +with horror all the spectators, who had not my pre-convictions--we found +the remains of a human body. + +The police-officers who had accompanied me now rushed into the house, +and secured the person of the old man. As to his wife, no one could at +first tell what had become of her. After some search, however, she was +found hidden behind a bundle of fagots. + +By this time, nearly the whole town had gathered around the spot; and +now that this horrible fact had come to light, every body had some crime +to tell, which had been laid to the charge of the old couple. The people +who predict after an event, are numerous. + +The old couple were brought before the proper authorities, and privately +and separately examined. The old man persisted in his denial, most +pertinaciously; but his wife at length confessed, that, in concert with +her husband, she had once--a very long time ago--murdered a peddler, +whom they had met one night on the high-road, and who had been +incautious enough to tell them of a considerable sum of money which he +had about him, and whom, in consequence, they induced to pass the night +at their house. They had taken advantage of the heavy sleep induced by +fatigue, to strangle him; his body had been put into the chest, the +chest thrown into the well, and the well stopped up. + +The peddler being from another country, his disappearance had occasioned +no inquiry; there was no witness of the crime; and as its traces had +been carefully concealed from every eye, the two criminals had good +reason to believe themselves secure from detection. They had not, +however, been able to silence the voice of conscience; they fled from +the sight of their fellow-men; they trembled at the slightest noise, and +silence thrilled them with terror. They had often formed a determination +to leave the scene of their crime--to fly to some distant land; but +still some undefinable fascination kept them near the remains of their +victim. + +Terrified by the deposition of his wife, and unable to resist the +overwhelming proofs against him, the man at length made a similar +confession; and six weeks after, the unhappy criminals died on the +scaffold, in accordance with the sentence of the Parliament of Toulouse. +They died penitent. + +The well was once more shut up, and the cottage leveled to the ground. +It was not, however, until fifty years had in some measure deadened the +memory of the terrible transaction, that the ground was cultivated. It +is now a fine field of corn. + +Such was the dream and its result. + +I never had the courage to revisit the town where I had been an actor in +such a tragedy. + + + + +[From the Dublin University Magazine.] + +SUMMER PASTIME. + + + Do you ask how I'd amuse me + When the long bright summer comes, + And welcome leisure woos me + To shun life's crowded homes; + To shun the sultry city, + Whose dense, oppressive air + Might make one weep with pity + For those who must be there? + + I'll tell you then--I would not + To foreign countries roam, + As though my fancy could not + Find occupance at home; + Nor to home-haunts of fashion + Would I, least of all, repair, + For guilt, and pride, and passion, + Have summer-quarters there. + + Far, far from watering-places + Of note and name I'd keep, + For there would vapid faces + Still throng me in my sleep; + Then contact with the foolish, + The arrogant, the vain, + The meaningless--the mulish, + Would sicken heart and brain. + + No--I'd seek some shore of ocean + Where nothing comes to mar + The ever-fresh commotion + Of sea and land at war; + Save the gentle evening only + As it steals along the deep, + So spirit-like and lonely, + To still the waves to sleep. + + There long hours I'd spend in viewing + The elemental strife, + My soul the while subduing + With the littleness of life; + Of life, with all its paltry plans, + Its conflicts and its cares-- + The feebleness of all that's man's-- + The might that's God's and theirs! + + And when eve came I'd listen + To the stilling of that war, + Till o'er my head should glisten + The first pure silver star; + Then, wandering homeward slowly, + I'd learn my heart the tune + Which the dreaming billows lowly, + Were murmuring to the moon! + +R.C. + + + + +[From Dickens's Household Words.] + +THE CHEMISTRY OF A CANDLE. + + +The Wilkinsons were having a small party, it consisted of themselves and +Uncle Bagges, at which the younger members of the family, home for the +holidays, had been just admitted to assist after dinner. Uncle Bagges +was a gentleman from whom his affectionate relatives cherished +expectations of a testamentary nature. Hence the greatest attention was +paid by them to the wishes of Mr. Bagges, as well as to every +observation which he might be pleased to make. + +"Eh! what? you sir," said Mr. Bagges, facetiously addressing himself to +his eldest nephew, Harry--"Eh! what? I am glad to hear, sir, that you +are doing well at school. Now--eh! now, are you clever enough to tell me +where was Moses when he put the candle out?" + +"That depends, uncle," answered the young gentleman, "on whether he had +lighted the candle to see with at night, or by daylight to seal a +letter." + +"Eh! very good, now! 'Pon my word, very good," exclaimed Uncle Bagges. +"You must be Lord Chancellor, sir--Lord Chancellor, one of these days." + +"And now, uncle," asked Harry, who was a favorite with the old +gentleman, "can you tell me what you do when you put a candle out?" + +"Clap an extinguisher on it, you young rogue, to be sure." + +"Oh! but I mean, you cut off its supply of oxygen," said Master Harry. + +"Cut off its ox's--eh? what? I shall cut off your nose, you young dog, +one of these fine days." + +"He means something he heard at the Royal Institution," observed Mrs. +Wilkinson. "He reads a great deal about chemistry, and he attended +Professor Faraday's lectures there on the chemical history of a candle, +and has been full of it ever since." + +"Now, you sir," said Uncle Bagges, "come you here to me, and tell me +what you have to say about this chemical, eh? or comical; which? this +comical chemical history of a candle." + +"He'll bore you, Bagges," said Mrs. Wilkinson. "Harry, don't be +troublesome to your uncle." + +"Troublesome! Oh, not at all. He amuses me. I like to hear him. So let +him teach his old uncle the comicality and chemicality of a farthing +rushlight." + +"A wax candle will be nicer and cleaner, uncle, and answer the same +purpose. There's one on the mantle-shelf. Let me light it." + +"Take care you don't burn your fingers, or set any thing on fire," said +Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"Now, uncle," commenced Harry, having drawn his chair to the side of Mr. +Bagges, "we have got our candle burning. What do you see?" + +"Let me put on my spectacles," answered the uncle. + +"Look down on the top of the candle around the wick. See, it is a +little cup full of melted wax. The heat of the flame has melted the wax +just round the wick. The cold air keeps the outside of it hard, so as to +make the rim of it. The melted wax in the little cup goes up through the +wick to be burnt, just as oil does in the wick of a lamp. What do you +think makes it go up, uncle?" + +"Why--why, the flame draws it up, doesn't it?" + +"Not exactly, uncle. It goes up through little tiny passages in the +cotton wick, because very, very small channels, or pipes, or pores, have +the power in themselves of sucking up liquids. What they do it by is +called cap--something." + +"Capillary attraction, Harry," suggested Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Yes, that's it; just as a sponge sucks up water, or a bit of lump-sugar +the little drop of tea or coffee left in the bottom of a cup. But I +mustn't say much more about this, or else you will tell me I am doing +something very much like teaching my grandmother to--you know what." + +"Your grandmother, eh, young sharpshins?" + +"No--I mean my uncle. Now, I'll blow the candle out, like Moses; not to +be in the dark, though, but to see into what it is. Look at the smoke +rising from the wick. I'll hold a bit of lighted paper in the smoke, so +as not to touch the wick. But see, for all that, the candle lights +again. So this shows that the melted wax sucked up through the wick is +turned into vapor; and the vapor burns. The heat of the burning vapor +keeps on melting more wax, and that is sucked up too within the flame, +and turned into vapor, and burnt, and so on till the wax is all used up, +and the candle is gone. So the flame, uncle, you see is the last of the +candle, and the candle seems to go through the flame into +nothing--although it doesn't, but goes into several things, and isn't it +curious, as Professor Faraday said, that the candle should look so +splendid and glorious in going away." + +"How well he remembers, doesn't he?" observed Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"I dare say," proceeded Harry, "that the flame of the candle looks flat +to you; but if we were to put a lamp glass over it, so as to shelter it +from the draught, you would see it is round, round sideways, and running +up to a peak. It is drawn up by the hot air; you know that hot air +always rises, and that is the way smoke is taken up the chimney. What +should you think was in the middle of the flame?" + +"I should say, fire," replied Uncle Bagges. + +"Oh, no! The flame is hollow. The bright flame we see is something no +thicker than a thin peel, or skin; and it doesn't touch the wick. Inside +of it is the vapor I told you of just now. If you put one end of a bent +pipe into the middle of the flame, and let the other end of the pipe dip +into a bottle, the vapor or gas from the candle will mix with the air +there; and if you set fire to the mixture of gas from the candle and +air in the bottle, it would go off with a bang." + +"I wish you'd do that, Harry," said Master Tom, the younger brother of +the juvenile lecturer. + +"I want the proper things," answered Harry. "Well, uncle, the flame of +the candle is a little shining case, with gas in the inside of it, and +air on the outside, so that the case of flame is between the air and the +gas. The gas keeps going into the flame to burn, and when the candle +burns properly, none of it ever passes out through the flame; and none +of the air ever gets in through the flame to the gas. The greatest heat +of the candle is in this skin, or peel, or case of flame." + +"Case of flame!" repeated Mr. Bagges. "Live and learn. I should have +thought a candle flame was as thick as my poor old noddle." + +"I can show you the contrary," said Harry. "I take this piece of white +paper, look, and hold it a second or two down upon the candle flame, +keeping the flame very steady. Now I'll rub off the black of the smoke, +and--there--you find that the paper is scorched in the shape of a ring; +but inside the ring it is only dirtied, and not singed at all." + +"Seeing is believing," remarked the uncle. + +"But," proceeded Harry, "there is more in the candle flame than the gas +that comes out of the candle. You know a candle won't burn without air. +There must be always air around the gas, and touching it like to make it +burn. If a candle hasn't got enough air, it goes out, or burns badly, so +that some of the vapor inside of the flame comes out through it in the +form of smoke, and this is the reason of a candle smoking. So now you +know why a great clumsy dip smokes more than a neat wax candle; it is +because the thick wick of the dip makes too much fuel in proportion to +the air that can get to it." + +"Dear me! Well, I suppose there is a reason for every thing," exclaimed +the young philosopher's mamma. + +"What should you say, now," continued Harry, "if I told you that the +smoke that comes out of a candle is the very thing that makes a candle +light? Yes; a candle shines by consuming its own smoke. The smoke of a +candle is a cloud of small dust, and the little grains of the dust are +bits of charcoal, or carbon, as chemists call it. They are made in the +flame, and burned in the flame, and, while burning, make the flame +bright. They are burned the moment they are made; but the flame goes on +making more of them as fast as it burns them; and that is how it keeps +bright. The place they are made in, is in the case of flame itself, +where the strongest heat is. The great heat separates them from the gas +which comes from the melted wax, and, as soon as they touch the air on +the outside of the thin case of flame, they burn." + +"Can you tell how it is that the little bits of carbon cause the +brightness of the flame?" asked Mr. Wilkinson. + +"Because they are pieces of solid matter," answered Harry. "To make a +flame shine, there must always be some solid--or at least liquid--matter +in it." + +"Very good," said Mr. Bagges--"solid stuff necessary to brightness." + +"Some gases and other things," resumed Harry, "that burn with a flame +you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into +them. Oxygen and hydrogen--tell me if I use too hard words, +uncle--oxygen and hydrogen gases, if mixed together and blown through a +pipe, burn with plenty of heat but with very little light. But if their +flame is blown upon a piece of quick-lime, it gets so bright as to be +quite dazzling. Make the smoke of oil of turpentine pass through the +same flame, and it gives the flame a beautiful brightness directly." + +"I wonder," observed Uncle Bagges, "what has made you such a bright +youth." + +"Taking after uncle, perhaps," retorted his nephew. "Don't put my candle +and me out. Well, carbon or charcoal is what causes the brightness of +all lamps, and candles, and other common lights; so, of course, there is +carbon in what they are all made of." + +"So carbon is smoke, eh? and light is owing to your carbon. Giving light +out of smoke, eh? as they say in the classics," observed Mr. Bagges. + +"But what becomes of the candle," pursued Harry, "as it burns away? +where does it go?" + +"Nowhere," said his mamma, "I should think. It burns to nothing." + +"Oh, dear, no!" said Harry, "every thing--every body goes somewhere." + +"Eh!--rather an important consideration that," Mr. Bagges moralized. + +"You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing," +pursued Harry. "There are other things it goes into, not to be seen by +only looking, but you can get to see them by taking the right +means--just put your hand over the candle, uncle." + +"Thank you, young gentleman, I had rather be excused." + +"Not close enough down to burn you, uncle; higher up. There--you feel a +stream of hot air; so something seems to rise from the candle. Suppose +you were to put a very long, slender gas-burner over the flame, and let +the flame burn just within the end of it, as if it were a chimney, some +of the hot steam would go up and come out at the top, but a sort of dew +would be left behind in the glass chimney, if the chimney was cold +enough when you put it on. There are ways of collecting this sort of +dew, and when it is collected it turns out to be really water. I am not +joking, uncle. Water is one of the things which the candle turns into in +burning--water, coming out of fire. A jet of oil gives above a pint of +water in burning. In some lighthouses they burn, Professor Faraday says, +up to two gallons of oil in a night, and if the windows are cold, the +steam from the oil clouds the inside of the windows, and, in frosty +weather, freezes into ice." + +"Water out of a candle, eh?" exclaimed Mr. Bagges. "As hard to get, I +should have thought, as blood out of a post. Where does it come from?" + +"Part from the wax, and part from the air, and yet not a drop of it +comes either from the air or the wax. What do you make of that, uncle?" + +"Eh? Oh! I'm no hand at riddles. Give it up." + +"No riddle at all, uncle. The part that comes from the wax isn't water, +and the part that comes from the air isn't water, but when put together +they become water. Water is a mixture of two things, then. This can be +shown. Put some iron wire or turnings into a gun-barrel open at both +ends. Heat the middle of the barrel red-hot in a little furnace. Keep +the heat up, and send the steam of boiling water through the red-hot +gun-barrel. What will come out at the other end of the barrel won't be +steam; it will be gas, which doesn't turn to water again when it gets +cold, and which burns if you put a light to it. Take the turnings out of +the gun-barrel, and you will find them changed to rust, and heavier than +when they were put in. Part of the water is the gas that comes out of +the barrel, the other part is what mixes with the iron turnings, and +changes them to rust, and makes them heavier. You can fill a bladder +with the gas that comes out of the gun-barrel, or you can pass bubbles +of it up into a jar of water turned upside down in a trough, and, as I +said, you can make this part of the water burn." + +"Eh?" cried Mr. Bagges. "Upon my word. One of these days, we shall have +you setting the Thames on fire." + +"Nothing more easy," said Harry, "than to burn part of the Thames, or +any other water; I mean the gas that I have just told you about, which +is called hydrogen. In burning, hydrogen produces water again, like the +flame of the candle. Indeed, hydrogen is that part of the water, formed +by a candle burning, that comes from the wax. All things that have +hydrogen in them produce water in burning, and the more there is in +them, the more they produce. When pure hydrogen burns, nothing comes +from it but water, no smoke or soot at all. If you were to burn one +ounce of it, the water you would get would be just nine ounces. There +are many ways of making hydrogen, besides out of steam by the hot +gun-barrel. I could show it you in a moment by pouring a little +sulphuric acid mixed with water into a bottle upon a few zinc or steel +filings, and putting a cork in the bottle with a little pipe through it, +and setting fire to the gas that would come from the mouth of the pipe. +We should find the flame very hot, but having scarcely any brightness. I +should like you to see the curious qualities of hydrogen, particularly +how light it is, so as to carry things up in the air; and I wish I had +a small balloon to fill with it and make go up to the ceiling, or a +bag-pipe full of it to blow soap-bubbles with, and show how much faster +they rise than common ones, blown with the breath." + +"So do I," interposed Master Tom. + +"And so," resumed Harry, "hydrogen, you know, uncle, is part of water, +and just one-ninth part." + +"As hydrogen is to water, so is a tailor to an ordinary individual, eh?" +Mr. Bagges remarked. + +"Well, now, then, uncle, if hydrogen is the tailor's part of the water, +what are the other eight parts? The iron-turnings used to make hydrogen +in the gun-barrel, and rusted, take just those eight parts from the +water in the shape of steam, and are so much the heavier. Burn iron +turnings in the air, and they make the same rust, and gain just the same +in weight. So the other eight parts must be found in the air for one +thing, and in the rusted iron turnings for another, and they must also +be in the water; and now the question is, how to get at them?" + +"Out of the water? Fish for them, I should say," suggested Mr. Bagges. + +"Why, so we can," said Harry. "Only instead of hooks and lines, we must +use wires--two wires, one from one end, the other from the other, of a +galvanic battery. Put the points of these wires into water, a little +distance apart, and they instantly take the water to pieces. If they are +of copper, or a metal that will rust easily, one of them begins to rust, +and air-bubbles come up from the other. These bubbles are hydrogen. The +other part of the water mixes with the end of the wire and makes rust. +But if the wires are of gold, or a metal that does not rust easily, +air-bubbles rise from the ends of both wires. Collect the bubbles from +both wires in a tube, and fire them, and they turn to water again; and +this water is exactly the same weight as the quantity that has been +changed into the two gases. Now, then, uncle, what should you think +water was composed of?" + +"Eh? well--I suppose of those very identical two gases, young +gentleman." + +"Right, uncle. Recollect that the gas from one of the wires was +hydrogen, the one-ninth of water. What should you guess the gas from the +other wire to be?" + +"Stop--eh?--wait a bit--eh--oh!--why, the other eight-ninths, to be +sure." + +"Good again, uncle. Now this gas that is eight-ninths of water is the +gas called oxygen that I mentioned just now. This is a very curious gas. +It won't burn in air at all itself, like gas from a lamp, but it has a +wonderful power of making things burn that are lighted and put into it. +If you fill a jar with it--" + +"How do you manage that?" Mr. Bagges inquired. + +"You fill the jar with water," answered Harry, "and you stand it upside +down in a vessel full of water too. Then you let bubbles of the gas up +into the jar, and they turn out the water and take its place. Put a +stopper in the neck of the jar, or hold a glass plate against the mouth +of it, and you can take it out of the water, and so have bottled oxygen. +A lighted candle put into a jar of oxygen blazes up directly and is +consumed before you can say 'Jack Robinson.' Charcoal burns away in it +as fast, with beautiful bright sparks--phosphorus with a light that +dazzles you to look at--and a piece of iron or steel just made red-hot +at the end first, is burnt in oxygen quicker than a stick would be in +common air. The experiment of burning things in oxygen beats any +fire-works." + +"Oh, how jolly!" exclaimed Tom. + +"Now we see, uncle," Harry continued, "that water is hydrogen and oxygen +united together, that water is got wherever hydrogen is burnt in common +air, that a candle won't burn without air, and that when a candle burns +there is hydrogen in it burning, and forming water. Now, then, where +does the hydrogen of the candle get the oxygen from, to turn into water +with it?" + +"From the air, eh?" + +"Just so. I can't stop to tell you of the other things which there is +oxygen in, and the many beautiful and amusing ways of getting it. But as +there is oxygen in the air, and as oxygen makes things burn at such a +rate, perhaps you wonder why air does not make things burn as fast as +oxygen. The reason is, that there is something else in the air that +mixes with the oxygen and weakens it." + +"Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "But how is +that proved?" + +"Why, there is a gas, called nitrous gas, which, if you mix it with +oxygen, takes all the oxygen into itself, and the mixture of the nitrous +gas and oxygen, if you put water with it, goes into the water. Mix +nitrous gas and air together in a jar over water, and the nitrous gas +takes away the oxygen, and then the water sucks up the mixed oxygen and +nitrous gas, and that part of the air which weakens the oxygen is left +behind. Burning phosphorus in confined air will also take all the oxygen +from it, and there are other ways of doing the same thing. The portion +of air left behind is called nitrogen. You wouldn't know it from common +air by the look; it has no color, taste, nor smell, and it won't burn. +But things won't burn in it either; and any thing on fire put into it +goes out directly. It isn't fit to breathe; and a mouse, or any animal, +shut up in it dies. It isn't poisonous, though; creatures only die in it +for want of oxygen. We breathe it with oxygen, and then it does no harm, +but good; for if we breathe pure oxygen, we should breathe away so +violently, that we should soon breathe our life out. In the same way, if +the air were nothing but oxygen, a candle would not last above a minute." + +"What a tallow-chandler's bill we should have!" remarked Mrs. Wilkinson. + +"'If a house were on fire in oxygen,' as Professor Faraday said, 'every +iron bar, or rafter, or pillar, every nail and iron tool, and the +fire-place itself; all the zinc and copper roofs, and leaden coverings, +and gutters, and; pipes, would consume and burn, increasing the +combustion.'" + +"That would be, indeed, burning 'like a house on fire,'" observed Mr. +Bagges. + +"'Think,'" said Harry, continuing his quotation, "'of the Houses of +Parliament, or a steam-engine manufactory. Think of an iron-proof +chest--no proof against oxygen. Think of a locomotive and its +train--every engine, every carriage, and even every rail would be set on +fire and burnt up.' So now, uncle, I think you see what the use of +nitrogen is, and especially how it prevents a candle from burning out +too fast." + +"Eh?" said Mr. Bagges. "Well, I will say I do think we are under +considerable obligations to nitrogen." + +"I have explained to you, uncle," pursued Harry, "how a candle, in +burning, turns into water. But it turns into something else besides +that; there is a stream of hot air going up from it that won't condense +into dew; some of that is the nitrogen of the air which the candle has +taken all the oxygen from. But there is more in it than nitrogen. Hold a +long glass tube over a candle, so that the stream of hot air from it may +go up through the tube. Hold a jar over the end of the tube to collect +some of the stream of hot air. Put some lime-water, which looks quite +clear, into the jar; stop the jar, and shake it up. The lime-water, +which was quite clear before, turns milky. Then there is something made +by the burning of the candle that changes the color of the lime-water. +That is a gas, too, and you can collect it, and examine it. It is to be +got from several things, and is a part of all chalk, marble, and the +shells of eggs or of shell-fish. The easiest way to make it is by +pouring muriatic or sulphuric acid on chalk or marble. The marble or +chalk begins to hiss or bubble, and you can collect the bubbles in the +same way that you can oxygen. The gas made by the candle in burning, and +which also is got out of the chalk and marble, is called carbonic acid. +It puts out a light in a moment; it kills any animal that breathes it, +and it is really poisonous to breathe, because it destroys life even +when mixed with a pretty large quantity of common air. The bubbles made +by beer when it ferments, are carbonic acid, so is the air that fizzes +out of soda-water--and it is good to swallow though it is deadly to +breathe. It is got from chalk by burning the chalk as well as by putting +acid to it, and burning the carbonic acid out of chalk makes the chalk +lime. This is why people are killed sometimes by getting in the way of +the wind that blows from lime-kilns." + +"Of which it is advisable carefully to keep to the windward," Mr. +Wilkinson observed. + +"The most curious thing about carbonic acid gas," proceeded Harry, "is +its weight. Although it is only a sort of air, it is so heavy that you +can pour it from one vessel into another. You may dip a cup of it and +pour it down upon a candle, and it will put the candle out, which would +astonish an ignorant person; because carbonic acid gas is as invisible +as the air, and the candle seems to be put out by nothing. A soap-bubble +of common air floats on it like wood on water. Its weight is what makes +it collect in brewers' vats; and also in wells, where it is produced +naturally; and owing to its collecting in such places it causes the +deaths we so often hear about of those who go down into them without +proper care. It is found in many springs of water, more or less; and a +great deal of it comes out of the earth in some places. Carbonic acid +gas is what stupefies the dogs in the Grotto del Cane. Well, but how is +carbonic acid gas made by the candle?" + +"I hope with your candle you'll throw some light upon the subject," said +Uncle Bagges. + +"I hope so," answered Harry. "Recollect it is the burning of the smoke, +or soot, or carbon of the candle that makes the candle-flame bright. +Also that the candle won't burn without air. Likewise that it will not +burn in nitrogen, or air that has been deprived of oxygen. So the carbon +of the candle mingles with oxygen, in burning, to make carbonic acid +gas, just as the hydrogen does to form water. Carbonic acid gas, then, +is carbon or charcoal dissolved in oxygen. Here is black soot getting +invisible and changing into air; and this seems strange, uncle, doesn't +it?" + +"Ahem! Strange, if true," answered Mr. Bagges. "Eh? well! I suppose it's +all right." + +"Quite so, uncle. Burn carbon or charcoal either in the air or in +oxygen, and it is sure always to make carbonic acid, and nothing else, +if it is dry. No dew or mist gathers in a cold glass jar if you burn dry +charcoal in it. The charcoal goes entirely into carbonic acid gas, and +leaves nothing behind but ashes, which are only earthy stuff that was in +the charcoal, but not part of the charcoal itself. And now, shall I tell +you something about carbon?" + +"With all my heart," assented Mr. Bagges. + +"I said that there was carbon or charcoal in all common lights--so there +is in every common kind of fuel. If you heat coal or wood away from the +air, some gas comes away, and leaves behind coke from coal, and charcoal +from wood; both carbon, though not pure. Heat carbon as much as you will +in a close vessel, and it does not change in the least; but let the air +get to it, and then it burns and flies off in carbonic acid gas. This +makes carbon so convenient for fuel. But it is ornamental as well as +useful, uncle The diamond is nothing else than carbon." + +"The diamond, eh? You mean the black diamond." + +"No; the diamond, really and truly. The diamond is only carbon in the +shape of a crystal." + +"Eh? and can't some of your clever chemists crystallize a little bit of +carbon, and make a Koh-i-noor?" + +"Ah, uncle, perhaps we shall, some day. In the mean time, I suppose, we +must be content with making carbon so brilliant as it is in the flame of +a candle. Well; now you see that a candle-flame is vapor burning, and +the vapor, in burning, turns into water and carbonic acid gas. The +oxygen of both the carbonic acid gas and the water comes from the air, +and the hydrogen and carbon together are the vapor. They are distilled +out of the melted wax by the heat. But, you know, carbon alone can't be +distilled by any heat. It can be distilled, though, when it is joined +with hydrogen, as it is in the wax, and then the mixed hydrogen and +carbon rise in gas of the same kind as the gas in the streets, and that +also is distilled by heat from coal. So a candle is a little gas +manufactory in itself, that burns the gas as fast as it makes it." + +"Haven't you pretty nearly come to your candle's end?" said Mr. +Wilkinson. + +"Nearly. I only want to tell uncle, that the burning of a candle is +almost exactly like our breathing. Breathing is consuming oxygen, only +not so fast as burning. In breathing we throw out water in vapor and +carbonic acid from our lungs, and take oxygen in. Oxygen is as necessary +to support the life of the body, as it is to keep up the flame of a +candle." + +"So," said Mr. Bagges, "man is a candle, eh? and Shakspeare knew that, I +suppose (as he did most things), when he wrote + + "'Out, out, brief candle!' + +"Well, well; we old ones are moulds, and you young squires are dips and +rushlights, eh? Any more to tell us about the candle?" + +"I could tell you a great deal more about oxygen, and hydrogen, and +carbon, and water, and breathing, that Professor Faraday said, if I had +time; but you should go and hear him yourself, uncle." + +"Eh? well! I think I will. Some of us seniors may learn something from a +juvenile lecture, at any rate, if given by a Faraday. And now, my boy, I +will tell you what," added Mr. Bagges, "I am very glad to find you so +fond of study and science: and you deserve to be encouraged: and so I'll +give you a what-d'ye-call-it? a Galvanic Battery on your next birth-day; +and so much for your teaching your old uncle the chemistry of a candle." + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS COMPACT. + +A FREE TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. + +IN TWO PARTS.--PART I. + + +In the latter years of the last century, two youths, Ferdinand von +Hallberg, and Edward von Wensleben were receiving their education in the +military academy of Marienvheim. Among their schoolfellows they were +called Orestes and Pylades, or Damon and Pythias, on account of their +tender friendship, which constantly recalled to their schoolfellows' +minds the history of these ancient worthies. Both were sons of +officers, who had long served the state with honor, both were destined +for their father's profession, both accomplished and endowed by nature +with no mean talents. But fortune had not been so impartial in the +distribution of her favors--Hallberg's father lived on a small pension, +by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son's schooling at the +cost of the government; while Wensleben's parents willingly paid the +handsomest salary in order to insure to their only child the best +education which the establishment afforded. This disparity in +circumstances at first produced a species of proud reserve, amounting to +coldness, in Ferdinand's deportment, which yielded by degrees to the +cordial affection that Edward manifested toward him on every occasion. +Two years older than Edward, of a thoughtful and almost melancholy turn +of mind, Ferdinand soon gained a considerable influence over his weaker +friend, who clung to him with almost girlish dependence. + +Their companionship had now lasted with satisfaction and happiness to +both, for several years, and the youths had formed for themselves the +most delightful plans--how they were never to separate, how they were to +enter the service in the same regiment, and if a war broke out, how they +were to fight side by side and conquer, or die together. But destiny, or +rather Providence, whose plans are usually opposed to the designs of +mortals, had ordained otherwise for the friends than they anticipated. + +Earlier than was expected, Hallberg's father found an opportunity to +have his son appointed to an infantry regiment, and he was ordered +immediately to join the staff in a small provincial town, in an +out-of-the-way mountainous district. This announcement fell like a +thunder-bolt on the two friends; but Ferdinand considered himself by far +the more unhappy, since it was ordained that he should be the one to +sever the happy bond that bound them, and to inflict a deep wound on his +loved companion. His schoolfellows vainly endeavored to console him by +calling his attention to his new commission, and the preference which +had been shown him above so many others. He only thought of the +approaching separation; he only saw his friend's grief, and passed the +few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward's +side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand's society with jealous +care, and could not bear to lose sight of him for an instant. In one of +their most melancholy hours, excited by sorrow and youthful enthusiasm, +they bound themselves by a mysterious vow, namely, that the one whom God +should think fit to call first from this world should bind himself (if +conformable to the Divine will) to give some sign of his remembrance and +affection to the survivor. + +The place where this vow was made was a solitary spot in the garden, by +a monument of gray marble, overshadowed by dark firs, which the former +director of the institution had caused to be erected to the memory of +his son, whose premature death was recorded on the stone. + +Here the friends met at night, and by the fitful light of the moon they +pledged themselves to the rash and fanciful contract, and confirmed and +consecrated it the next morning, by a religious ceremony. After this +they were able to look the approaching separation in the face more +manfully, and Edward strove hard to quell the melancholy feeling which +had lately arisen in his mind on account of the constant foreboding that +Ferdinand expressed of his own early death. "No," thought Edward, "his +pensive turn of mind and his wild imagination cause him to reproach +himself without a cause for my sorrow and his own departure. Oh, no, +Ferdinand will not die early--he will not die before me. Providence will +not leave me alone in the world." + +The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for after Ferdinand's +departure, the house, the world itself, seemed a desert; and absorbed by +his own memories, he now recalled to mind many a dark speech which had +fallen from his absent friend, particularly in the latter days of their +intercourse, and which betokened but too plainly a presentiment of early +death. But time and youth exercised, even over these sorrows, their +irresistible influence. Edward's spirits gradually recovered their tone; +and as the traveler always has the advantage over the one who remains +behind, in respect of new objects to occupy his mind, so was Ferdinand +even sooner calmed and cheered, and by degrees he became engrossed by +his new duties, and new acquaintances, not to the exclusion, indeed, of +his friend's memory, but greatly to the alleviation of his own sorrow. +It was natural, in such circumstances, that the young officer should +console himself sooner than poor Edward. The country in which Hallberg +found himself was wild and mountainous, but possessed all the charms and +peculiarities of "far off" districts--simple, hospitable manners, +old-fashioned customs, many tales and legends which arise from the +credulity of the mountaineers, who invariably lean toward the marvelous, +and love to people the wild solitudes with invisible beings. + +Ferdinand had soon, without seeking for it, made acquaintance with +several respectable families in the town; and, as it generally happens +in such cases, he had become quite domesticated in the best country +houses in the neighborhood; and the well-mannered, handsome, and +agreeable youth was welcomed every where. The simple, patriarchal life +in these old mansions and castles--the cordiality of the people, the +wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were +entirely to Hallberg's taste. He adapted himself easily to his new mode +of life, but his heart remained tranquil. This could not last. Before +half a year had passed, the battalion to which he belonged was ordered +to another station, and he had to part with many friends. The first +letter which he wrote after this change, bore the impression of +impatience at the breaking up of a happy time. Edward found this natural +enough; but he was surprised in the following letters to detect signs +of a disturbed and desultory state of mind, wholly foreign to his +friend's nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand's heart was +touched for the first time, and, perhaps, because the impression had +been made late, it was all the deeper. Unfavorable circumstances opposed +themselves to his hopes: the young lady was of an ancient family, rich, +and betrothed since her childhood to a relation, who was expected +shortly to arrive in order to claim her promised hand. Notwithstanding +this engagement, Ferdinand and the young girl had become sincerely +attached to each other, and had both resolved to dare every thing with +the hope of being united. They pledged their troth in secret; the +darkest mystery enveloped not only their plans, but their affections; +and as secrecy was necessary to the advancement of their projects. +Ferdinand entreated his friend to forgive him if he did not intrust his +whole secret to a sheet of paper that had at least sixty miles to +travel, and which must pass through so many hands. It was impossible +from his letter to guess the name of the person or the place in +question. "You know that I love," he wrote, "therefore you know that the +object of my secret passion is worthy of any sacrifice; for you know +your friend too well to believe him capable of any blind infatuation, +and this must suffice for the present. No one must suspect what we are +to each other; no one here or round the neighborhood must have the +slightest clew to our plans. An awful personage will soon make his +appearance among us. His violent temper, his inveterate obstinacy +(according to all that one hears, of him), are well calculated to +confirm in _her_ a well-founded aversion. But family arrangements and +legal contracts exist, the fulfillment of which the opposing party are +bent on enforcing. The struggle will be hard, perhaps unsuccessful; +notwithstanding, I will strain every nerve. Should I fall, you must +console yourself, my dear Edward, with the thought, that it will be no +misfortune to your friend to be deprived of an existence rendered +miserable by the failure of his dearest hopes, and separation from his +dearest friend. Then may all the happiness which heaven has denied me be +vouchsafed to you and her, so that my spirit may look down contentedly +from the realms of light, and bless and protect you both." + +Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during +that period. His heart was full of anxiety--he read danger and distress +in the mysterious communications of Ferdinand; and every argument that +affection and good sense could suggest aid he make use of, in his +replies, to turn his friend from this path of peril which threatened to +end in a deep abyss. He tried persuasion, and urged him to desist for +the sake of their long-tried affection. But when did passion ever listen +to the expostulations of friendship? + +Ferdinand only saw one aim in life--the possession of the beloved one. +All else faded from before his eyes, and even his correspondence +slackened; for his time, was much taken up in secret excursions, +arrangements of all kinds, and communications with all manner of +persons; in fact every action of his present life tended to the +furtherance of his plan. + +All of a sudden his letters ceased. Many posts passed without a sign of +life. Edward was a prey to the greatest anxiety; he thought his friend +had staked and lost. He imagined an elopement, a clandestine marriage, a +duel with a rival, and all these casualties were the more painful to +conjecture, since his entire ignorance of the real state of things gave +his fancy full range to conjure up all sorts of misfortunes. At length, +after many more posts had come in without a line to pacify Edward's +fears, without a word in reply to his earnest entreaties for some news, +he determined on taking a step which he had meditated before, and only +relinquished out of consideration for his friend's wishes. He wrote to +the officer commanding the regiment, and made inquiries respecting the +health and abode of Lieutenant von Hallberg, whose friends in the +capital had remained for nearly two months without news of him, he who +had hitherto proved a regular and frequent correspondent. + +Another fortnight dragged heavily on, and at length the announcement +came in an official form. Lieutenant von Hallberg had been invited to +the castle of a nobleman whom he was in the custom of visiting, in order +to be present at the wedding of a lady; that he was indisposed at the +time, that he grew worse, and on the third morning had been found dead +in his bed, having expired during the night from an attack of apoplexy. + +Edward could not finish the letter, it fell from his trembling hand. To +see his worst fears realized so suddenly, overwhelmed him at first. His +youth withstood the bodily illness which would have assailed a weaker +constitution, and perhaps mitigated the anguish of his grief. He was not +dangerously, ill, but they feared many days for his reason; and it +required all the kind solicitude of the director of the college, +combined with the most skillful medical aid, to stem the torrent of his +sorrow, and to turn it gradually into a calmer channel, until by degrees +the mourner recovered both health and reason. His youthful spirits, +however, had received a blow from which they never rebounded, and one +thought lay heavy on his mind which he was unwilling to share with any +other person, and which, on that account, grew more and more painful. It +was the memory of that holy promise which had been mutually contracted, +that the survivor was to receive some token of his friend's remembrance +of him after death. Now two months had already passed since Ferdinand's +earthly career had been arrested, his spirit was free, why no sign? In +the moment of death Edward had had no intimation, no message from the +passing spirit, and this apparent neglect, so to speak, was another deep +wound in Edward's breast. Do the affections cease with life? Was it +contrary to the will of the Almighty that the mourner should taste this +consolation? Did individuality lose itself in death and with it memory? +Or did one stroke destroy spirit and body? These anxious doubts, which +have before now agitated many who reflect on such subjects, exercised +their power over Edward's mind with an intensity that none can imagine +save one whose position is in any degree similar. + +Time gradually deadened the intensity of his affliction. The violent +paroxysms of grief subsided into a deep but calm regret; it was as if a +mist had spread itself over every object which presented itself before +him, robbing them indeed of half their charms, yet leaving them visible, +and in their real relation to himself. During this mental change, the +autumn arrived, and with it the long-expected commission. It did not +indeed occasion the joy which it might have done in former days, when it +would have led to a meeting with Ferdinand, or at all events to a better +chance of meeting, but it released him from the thralldom of college, +and it opened to him a welcome sphere of activity. Now it so happened +that his appointment led him accidentally into the very neighborhood +where Ferdinand had formerly resided, only with this difference, that +Edward's squadron was quartered in the lowlands, about a short day's +journey from the town and woodland environs in question. + +He proceeded to his quarters, and found an agreeable occupation in the +exercise of his new duties. + +He had no wish to make acquaintances, yet he did not refuse the +invitations that were pressed upon him, lest he should be accused of +eccentricity and rudeness; and so he found himself soon entangled in all +sorts of engagements with the neighboring gentry and nobility. If these +so-called gayeties gave him no particular pleasure, at least for the +time they diverted his thoughts; and, with this view, he accepted an +invitation (for the new year and carnival were near at hand) to a great +shooting-match which was to be held in the mountains--a spot which it +was possible to reach in one day with favorable weather and the roads in +a good state. The day was appointed, the air tolerably clear; a mild +frost had made the roads safe and even, and Edward had every expectation +of being able to reach Blumenberg in his sledge before night, as on the +following morning the match was to take place. But as soon as he got +near the mountains, where the sun retires so early to rest, snow-clouds +drove from all quarters, a cutting wind came roaring through the +ravines, and a heavy fall of snow began. Twice the driver lost his way, +and daylight was gone before he had well recovered it; darkness came on +sooner than in other places, walled in as they were by dark mountains, +with dark clouds above their heads. It was out of the question to dream +of reaching Blumenberg that night; but in this hospitable land, where +every house-holder welcomes the passing traveler, Edward was under no +anxiety as to shelter. He only wished, before the night quite set in, to +reach some country house or castle; and now that the storm had abated in +some degree, that the heavens were a little clearer, and that a few +stars peeped out, a large valley opened before them, whose bold outline +Edward could distinguish, even in the uncertain light. The well-defined +roofs of a neat village were perceptible, and behind these, half-way up +the mountain that crowned the plain, Edward thought he could discern a +large building which glimmered with more than one light. The road led +straight into the village. Edward stopped and inquired. + +That building was, indeed, a castle; the village belonged to it, and +both were the property of the Baron Friedenberg. "Friedenberg!" repeated +Edward: the name sounded familiar to him, yet he could not call to mind +when and where he had heard it. He inquired if the family were at home, +hired a guide, and arrived at length, by a rugged path which wound +itself round steep rocks, to the summit of them, and finally to the +castle, which was perched there like an eagle's nest. The tinkling of +the bells on Edward's sledge attracted the attention of the inmates; the +door was opened with prompt hospitality--servants appeared with torches; +Edward was assisted to emerge from under the frozen apron of his +carriage, out of his heavy pelisse, stiff with hoar frost, and up a +comfortable staircase into a long saloon of simple construction, where a +genial warmth appeared to welcome him from a spacious stove in the +corner. The servants here placed two large burning candles in massive +silver sconces, and went out to announce the stranger. + +The fitting-up of the room, or rather saloon, was perfectly simple. +Family portraits, in heavy frames, hung round the walls, diversified by +some maps. Magnificent stags' horns were arranged between; and the taste +of the master of the house was easily detected in the hunting-knives, +powder-flasks, carbines, smoking-bags, and sportsmen's pouches, which +were arranged, not without taste, as trophies of the chase. The ceiling +was supported by large beams, dingy with smoke and age; and on the sides +of the room were long benches, covered and padded with dark cloth, and +studded with large brass nails; while round the dinner-table were placed +several arm-chairs, also of an ancient date. All bore the aspect of the +"good old times," of a simple patriarchal life with affluence. Edward +felt as if there were a kind welcome in the inanimate objects which +surrounded him, when the inner door opened, and the master of the house +entered, preceded by a servant, and welcomed his guest with courteous +cordiality. + +Some apologies which Edward offered on account of his intrusion, were +silenced in a moment. + +"Come, now, lieutenant," said the baron, "I must introduce you to my +family. You are no such a stranger to us, as you fancy." + +With these words he took Edward by the arm, and, lighted by the servant, +they passed through several lofty rooms, which were very handsomely +furnished, although in an old-fashioned style, with faded Flemish +carpets, large chandeliers, and high-backed chairs: everything in +keeping with what the youth had already seen in the castle. Here were +the ladies of the house. At the other end of the room, by the side of an +immense stove, ornamented with a large shield of the family arms, richly +emblazoned, and crowned by a gigantic Turk, in a most comfortable +attitude of repose sat the lady of the house, an elderly matron of +tolerable circumference, in a gown of dark red satin, with a black +mantle, and a snow-white lace cap. She appeared to be playing cards with +the chaplain, who sat opposite to her at the table, and the Baron +Friedenberg to have made the third hand at ombre, till he was called +away to welcome his guest. On the other side of the room were two young +ladies, an elder person, who might be a governess, and a couple of +children, very much engrossed by a game at loto. + +As Edward entered, the ladies rose to greet him; a chair was placed for +him near the mistress of the house, and very soon a cup of chocolate and +a bottle of tokay were served on a rich silver salver, to restore the +traveler after the cold and discomfort of his drive; in fact it was easy +for him to feel that these "far-away" people were by no means displeased +at his arrival. An agreeable conversation soon began among all parties. +His travels, the shooting match, the neighborhood, agriculture, all +afforded subjects, and in a quarter of an hour Edward felt as if he had +long been domesticated with these simple but truly well informed people. + +Two hours flew swiftly by, and then a bell sounded for supper; the +servants returned with lights, announced that the supper was on the +table, and lighted the company into the dining-room--the same into which +Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other +characters appeared on the scene--the agent, a couple of subalterns, and +the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward's +place was between the baron and his wife. The chaplain said a short +grace, when the baroness, with an uneasy look, glanced at her husband +over Edward's shoulder, and said, in a low whisper, + + "My love, we are thirteen--that will never do." + +The baron smiled, beckoned to the youngest of the clerks, and whispered +to him. The youth bowed, and withdrew. The servant took the cover away, +and served his supper in the next room. + +"My wife," said Friedenberg, "is superstitious, as all mountaineers are. +She thinks it unlucky to dine thirteen. It certainly has happened twice +(whether from chance or not who can tell?) that we have had to mourn the +death of an acquaintance who had, a short time before, made the +thirteenth at our table." + +"This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the +capital who think with the baroness," said Edward. "Although in a town +such ideas, which belong more especially to the olden time, are more +likely to be lost in the whirl and bustle which usually silences every +thing that is not essentially matter of fact." + +"Ah, yes, lieutenant," replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, "we +keep up old customs better in the mountains. You see that by our +furniture. People in the capital would call this sadly old-fashioned." + +"That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date," +rejoined Edward, courteously; "and here, if I mistake not, presides a +spirit that is ever striving after both. I must confess, baron, that +when I first entered your house, it was this very aspect of the olden +time that enchanted me beyond measure." + +"That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled +mind," answered Friedenberg; "but townspeople have seldom a taste for +such things." + +"I was partly educated on my father's estate," said Edward, "which was +situated in the Highlands; and it appeared to me as if, when I entered +your house, I were visiting a neighbor of my father's, for the general +aspect is quite the same here as with us." + +"Yes," said the chaplain, "mountainous districts have all a family +likeness: the same necessities, the same struggles with nature, the same +seclusion, all produce the same way of life among mountaineers." + +"On that account the prejudice against the number thirteen was +especially familiar to me," replied Edward. "We also dislike it; and we +retain a consideration for many supernatural, or at least inexplicable +things, which I have met with again in this neighborhood." + +"Yes, here, almost more than any where else," continued the chaplain. "I +think we excel all other mountaineers in the number and variety of our +legends and ghost stories. I assure you that there is not a cave, or a +church, or, above all, a castle, for miles round about, of which we +could not relate something supernatural." + +The baroness, who perceived the turn which the conversation was likely +to take, thought it better to send the children to bed; and when they +were gone, the priest continued, "Even here, in this castle--" + +"Here!" inquired Edward, "in this very castle?" + +"Yes, yes, lieutenant!" interposed the baron, "this house has the +reputation of being haunted; and the most extraordinary thing is, that +the matter can not be denied by the skeptical, or accounted for by the +reasonable." + +"And yet," said Edward, "the castle looks so cheerful, so habitable." + +"Yes, this part which we live in," answered the baron; "but it consists +of only a few apartments sufficient for my family and these gentlemen; +the other portion of the building is half in ruins, and dates from the +period when men established themselves on the mountains for greater +safety." + +"There are some who maintain," said the physician, "that a part of the +walls of the eastern tower itself are of Roman origin; but that would +surely be difficult to prove." + +"But, gentlemen," observed the baroness, "you are losing yourselves in +learned descriptions as to the erection of the castle, and our guest is +kept in ignorance of what he is anxious to hear." + +"Indeed, madam," replied the chaplain, "this is not entirely foreign to +the subject, since in the most ancient part of the building lies the +chamber in question." + +"Where apparitions have been seen?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"Not exactly," replied the baroness; "there is nothing fearful to be +seen." + +"Come, let us tell him at once," interrupted the baron. "The fact is, +that every guest who sleeps for the first time in this room (and it has +fallen to the lot of many, in turn, to do so), is visited by some +important, significant dream or vision, or whatever I ought to call it, +in which some future event is prefigured to him, or some past mystery +cleared up, which he had vainly striven to comprehend before." + +"Then," interposed Edward, "it must be something like what is known in +the Highlands under the name of second sight, a privilege, as some +consider it, which several persons and several families enjoy." + +"Just so," said the physician, "the cases are very similar; yet the most +mysterious part of this affair is, that it does not appear to originate +with the individual, or his organization, or his sympathy with beings of +the invisible world; no, the individual has nothing to say to it--the +locality does it all. Every one who sleeps in that room has his +mysterious dream, and the result proves its truth." + +"At least in most instances," continued the baron, "when we have had an +opportunity of hearing the cases confirmed. I remember once in +particular. You may recollect, lieutenant, that when you first came in I +had the honor of telling you, you were not quite a stranger to me." + +"Certainly, baron; and I have been wishing for a long time to ask an +explanation of these words." + +"We have often heard your name mentioned by a particular friend of +yours--one who could never, pronounce it without emotion." + +"Ah!" cried Edward, who now saw clearly why the baron's name had sounded +familiar to him also; "ah! you speak of my friend Hallberg; truly do you +say, we were indeed dear to each other." + +"Were!" echoed the baron, in a faltering tone, as he observed the +sudden change in Edward's voice and countenance; "can the blooming, +vigorous youth be--" + +"Dead!" exclaimed Edward; and the baron deeply regretted that he had +touched so tender a chord, as he saw the young officer's eyes fill with +tears, and a dark cloud pass over his animated features. + +"Forgive me," he continued, while he leaned forward and pressed his +companion's hand; "I grieve that a thoughtless word should have awakened +such deep sorrow. I had no idea of his death; we all loved the handsome +young man, and by his description of you were already much interested in +you before we had ever seen you." + +The conversation now turned entirely on Hallberg. Edward related the +particulars of his death. Every one present had something to say in his +praise; and although this sudden allusion to his dearest friend had +agitated Edward in no slight degree, yet it was a consolation to him to +listen to the tribute these worthy people paid to the memory of +Ferdinand, and to see how genuine was their regret at the tidings of his +early death. The time passed swiftly away in conversation of much +interest, and the whole, company were surprised to hear ten o'clock +strike; an unusually late hour for this quiet, regular family. The +chaplain read prayers, in which Edward devoutly joined, and then he +kissed the matron's hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father's +house. The baron offered to show his guest to his room, and the servant +preceded them with lights. The way led past the staircase, and then on +one side into a long gallery, which communicated with another wing of +the castle. + +The high-vaulted ceilings, the curious carving on the ponderous +doorways, the pointed gothic windows, through many broken panes of which +a sharp night wind whistled, proved to Edward that he was in the old +part of the castle, and that the famous chamber could not be far off. + +"Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there," he began, rather +timidly; "I should like it of all things." + +"Really!" inquired the baron, rather surprised; "have not our ghost +stories alarmed you?" + +"On the contrary," was the reply, "they have excited the most earnest +wish--" + +"Then, if that be the case," said the baron, "we will return. The room +was already prepared for you, being the most comfortable and the best in +the whole wing; only I fancied, after our conversation--" + +"Oh, certainly not," exclaimed Edward; "I could only long for such +dreams." + +During this discourse they had arrived at the door of the famous room. +They went in. They found themselves in a lofty and spacious apartment, +so large that the two candles which the servant carried, only, shed a +glimmering twilight over it, which did not penetrate to the furthest +corner. A high-canopied bed, hung with costly but old-fashioned damask, +of a dark green, in which were swelling pillows of snowy whiteness, tied +with green bows, and a silk coverlet of the same color, looked very +inviting to the tired traveler. Sofa and chairs of faded needlework, a +carved oak commode and table, a looking-glass in heavy framework, a +prie-dieu and crucifix above it, constituted the furniture of the room, +where, above all things, cleanliness and comfort preponderated, while a +good deal of silver plate was spread out on the toilet-table. + +Edward looked round. "A beautiful room!" he said. "Answer me one +question, baron, if you please. Did he ever sleep here?" + +"Certainly," replied Friedenberg; "it was his usual room when he was +here, and he had a most curious dream in that bed, which, as he assured +us, made a great impression on him." + +"And what was it?" inquired Edward, eagerly. + +"He never told us, for, as you well know, he was reserved by nature; but +we gathered from some words that he let slip, that an early and sudden +death was foretold. Alas! your narrative has confirmed the truth of the +prediction." + +"Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has he +grieved me by alluding to it," said Edward; "yet it never made him +gloomy or discontented. He went on his way firmly and calmly, and looked +forward with joy, I might almost say, to another life." + +"He was a superior man," answered the baron, "whose memory will ever be +dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good-night. Here is the +bell," he showed him the cord in between the curtains; "and your servant +sleeps in the next room." + +"Oh, you are too careful of me," said Edward, smiling; "I am used to +sleep by myself." + +"Still," replied the baron, "every precaution should be taken. Now, once +more, good night." + +He shook him by the hand, and, followed by the servant, left the room. + +Thus Edward found himself alone in the large, mysterious-looking, +haunted room, where his deceased friend had so often reposed--where he +also was expected to see a vision. The awe which the place itself +inspired, combined with the sad and yet tender recollection of the +departed Ferdinand, produced a state of mental excitement which was not +favorable to his night's rest. He had already undressed with the aid of +his servant (whom he had then dismissed), and had been in bed some time, +having extinguished the candles. No sleep visited his eyelids; and the +thought recurred which had so often troubled him, why he had never +received the promised token from Ferdinand, whether his friend's spirit +were among the blest--whether his silence (so to speak) proceeded from +unwillingness or incapacity to communicate with the living. A mingled +train of reflections agitated his mind: his brain grew heated; his +pulse beat faster and faster. The castle clock tolled eleven--half past +eleven. He counted the strokes; and at that moment the moon rose above +the dark margin of the rocks which surrounded the castle, and shed her +full light into Edward's room. Every object stood out in relief from the +darkness. Edward gazed, and thought, and speculated. It seemed to him as +if something moved in the furthest corner of the room. The movement was +evident--it assumed a form--the form of a man, which appeared to +advance, or rather to float forward. Here Edward lost all sense of +surrounding objects, and he found himself once more sitting at the foot +of the monument, in the garden of the academy, where he had contracted +the bond with his friend. As formerly, the moon streamed through the +dark branches of the fir-trees, and shed its cold, pale light on the +cold, white marble of the monument. Then the floating form which had +appeared in the room of the castle became clearer, more substantial, +more earthly-looking; it issued from behind the tombstone, and stood in +the full moonlight. It was Ferdinand, in the uniform of his regiment, +earnest and pale, but with a kind smile on his features. + +"Ferdinand, Ferdinand!" cried Edward, overcome by joy and surprise, and +he strove to embrace the well-loved form, but it waved him aside with a +melancholy look. + +"Ah! you are dead," continued the speaker; "and why then do I see you +just as you looked when living?" + +"Edward," answered the apparition, in a voice that sounded as if it came +from afar, "I am dead, but my spirit has no peace." + +"You are not with the blest?" cried Edward, in a voice of terror. + +"God is merciful," it replied; "but we are frail and sinful creatures; +inquire no more, but pray for me." + +"With all my heart," cried Edward, in a tone of anguish, while he gazed +with affection on the familiar features; "but speak, what can I do for +thee?" + +"An unholy tie still binds me to earth. I have sinned. I was cut off in +the midst of my sinful projects. This ring burns." He slipped a small +gold ring from his left hand. "Only when every token of this unholy +compact is destroyed, and when I recover the ring which I exchanged for +this, only then can my spirit be at rest. Oh, Edward, dear Edward, bring +me back my ring!" + +"With joy--but where, where am I to seek it?" + +"Emily Varnier will give it thee herself; our engagement was contrary to +holy duties, to prior engagements, to earlier vows. God denied his +blessing to the guilty project, and my course was arrested in a fearful +manner. Pray for me, Edward, and bring back the ring, my ring," +continued the voice, in a mournful tone of appeal. + +Then the features of the deceased smiled sadly but tenderly; then all +appeared to float once more before Edward's eyes--the form was lost in +mist, the monument, the fir grove, the moonlight, disappeared: a long, +gloomy, breathless pause followed. Edward lay, half sleeping, half +benumbed, in a confused manner; portions of the dream returned to +him--some images, some sounds--above all, the petition for the +restitution of the ring. But an indescribable power bound his limbs, +closed his eyelids, and silenced his voice; mental consciousness alone +was left him, yet his mind was a prey to terror. + +At length these painful sensations subsided--his nerves became more +braced, his breath came more freely, a pleasing languor crept over his +limbs, and he fell into a peaceful sleep. When he awoke it was already +broad daylight; his sleep toward the end of the night had been quiet and +refreshing. He felt strong and well, but as soon as the recollection of +his dream returned, a deep melancholy took possession of him, and he +felt the traces of tears which grief had wrung from him on his +eyelashes. But what had the vision been? A mere dream engendered by the +conversation of the evening, and his affection for Hallberg's memory, or +was it at length the fulfillment of the compact? + +There, out of that dark corner, had the form risen up, and moved toward +him. But might it not have been some effect of light and shade produced +by the moonbeams, and the dark branches of a large tree close to the +window, when agitated by the high wind? Perhaps he had seen this, and +then fallen asleep, and all combined had woven itself into a dream. But +the name of Emily Varnier! Edward did not remember ever to have heard +it; certainly it had never been mentioned in Ferdinand's letters. Could +it be the name of his love, of the object of that ardent and unfortunate +passion? Could the vision be one of truth? He was meditating, lost in +thought, when there was a knock at his door, and the servant entered. +Edward rose hastily, and sprang out of bed. As he did so, he heard +something fall with a ringing sound; the servant stooped and picked up a +gold ring, plain gold, like a wedding-ring. Edward shuddered; he +snatched it from the servant's hand, and the color forsook his cheeks as +he read the two words "Emily Varnier" engraved inside the hoop. He stood +there like one thunderstruck, as pale as a corpse, with the proof in his +hand that he had not merely dreamed, but had actually spoken with the +spirit of his friend. A servant of the household came in to ask whether +the lieutenant wished to breakfast in his room, or down stairs with the +family. Edward would willingly have remained alone with the thoughts +that pressed heavily on him, but a secret dread lest his absence should +be remarked, and considered as a proof of fear, after all that had +passed on the subject of the haunted room, determined him to accept the +last proposal. He dressed hastily, and arranged his hair carefully, but +the paleness of his face and the traces of tears in his eyes, were not +to be concealed, and he entered the saloon, where the family were +already assembled at the breakfast-table, with the chaplain and the +doctor. + +The baron rose to greet him; one glance at the young officer's face was +sufficient; he pressed his hand in silence, and led him to a place by +the side of the baroness. An animated discussion now began concerning +the weather, which was completely changed; a strong south wind had risen +in the night, so there was now a thaw. The snow was all melted--the +torrents were flowing once more, and the roads impassable. + +"How can you possibly reach Blumenberg, to-day?" the baron inquired of +his guest. + +"That will be well nigh impossible," said the doctor. "I am just come +from a patient at the next village, and I was nearly an hour performing +the same distance in a carriage that is usually traversed on foot in a +quarter of an hour." + +Edward had not given a thought this morning to the shooting-match. Now +that it had occurred to him to remember it, he felt little regret at +being detained from a scene of noisy festivity which, far from being +desirable, appeared to him actually distasteful in his present frame of +mind. Yet he was troubled, by the thought of intruding too long on the +hospitality of his new friends; and he said, in a hesitating manner, + + "Yes! but I must try how far---" + +"That you shall not do," interrupted the baron. "The road is always bad, +and in a thaw it is really dangerous. It would go against my conscience +to allow you to risk it. Remain with us; we have no shooting-match or +ball to offer you, but--" + +"I shall not certainly regret either," cried Edward, eagerly. + +"Well, then, remain with us, lieutenant," said the matron, lying her +hand on his arm, with a kind, maternal gesture. "You are heartily +welcome; and the longer you stay with us, the better shall we be +pleased." + +The youth bowed, and raised the lady's hand to his lips, and said, + +"If you will allow me--if you feel certain that I am not intruding--I +will accept, your kind offer with joy. I never care much for a ball, at +any time, and to-day in particular--" he stopped short, and then added, +"In such bad weather as this, the small amusement--" + +"Would be dearly bought," interposed the baron. "Come, I am delighted +you will remain with us." + +He shook Edward warmly by the hand. + +"You know you are with old friends." + +"And, besides," said the doctor, with disinterested solicitude, "it +would be imprudent, for M. de Wensleben does not look very well. Had you +a good night, sir?" + +"Very good," replied Edward. + +"Without much dreaming?" continued the other, pertinaciously + +"Dreaming! oh, nothing wonderful," answered the officer. + +"Hem!" said the doctor, shaking his head, portentously. "No one yet--" + +"Were I to relate my dream," replied Edward, "you would understand it no +more than I did. Confused images--" + +The baroness, who saw the youth's unwillingness to enlarge upon the +subject, here observed, + +"That some of the visions had been of no great importance--those which +she had heard related, at least." + +The chaplain led the conversation from dreams themselves, to their +origin, on which subject he and the doctor could not agree; and Edward +and his visions were left in peace at last. But when every one had +departed, each to his daily occupation, Edward followed the baron into +his library. + +"I answered in that manner," he said, "to get rid of the doctor and his +questioning. To you I will confess the truth. Your room has exercised +its mysterious influence over me." + +"Indeed!" said the baron, eagerly. + +"I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his +death. I will trust to your kindness--your sympathy--not to require of +me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put +to you." + +"Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible." + +"Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?" + +"Varnier!--certainly not." + +"Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?" + +"No one; it sounds like a foreign name." + +"In the bed in which I slept I found this ring," said Edward, while he +produced it; and the apparition of my friend pronounced that name. + +"Wonderful! As I tell you, I know no one so called--this is the first +time I ever heard the name. But it is entirely unaccountable to me, how +the ring should have come into that bed. You see, M. von Wensleben, what +I told you is true. There is something very peculiar about that room; +the moment you entered, I saw that the spell had been working on you +also, but I did not wish to forestall or force your confidence." + +"I felt the delicacy, as I do now the kindness, of your intentions. +Those who are as sad as I am can alone tell the value of tenderness and +sympathy." + +Edward remained this day and the following at the castle, and felt quite +at home with its worthy inmates. He slept twice in the haunted room. He +went away, and came back often; was always welcomed cordially, and +always quartered in the same apartment. But, in spite of all this, he +had no clew, he had no means of lifting the vail of mystery which hung +round the fate of Ferdinand Hallberg and of Emily Varnier. + + +PART II.--CONCLUSION. + +Several weeks passed away. Edward spared no pains to discover some trace +of the lady in question, but all in vain. No one in the neighborhood +knew the family; and he had already determined, as soon as the spring +began, to ask for leave of absence, and to travel through the country +where Ferdinand had formed his unfortunate attachment, when a +circumstance occurred which coincided strangely with his wishes. His +commanding officer gave him a commission to purchase some horses, which, +to his great consolation, led him exactly into that part of the country +where Ferdinand had been quartered. It was a market-town of some +importance. He was to remain there some time, which suited his plans +exactly; and he made use of every leisure hour to cultivate the +acquaintance of the officers, to inquire into Ferdinand's connections +and acquaintance, to trace the mysterious name if possible, and thus +fulfill a sacred duty. For to him it appeared a sacred duty to execute +the commission of his departed friend--to get possession of the ring, +and to be the means, as he hoped, of giving rest to the troubled spirit +of Ferdinand. + +Already, on the evening of the second day, he was sitting in the +coffee-room with burghers of the place and officers of different +regiments. A newly-arrived cornet was inquiring whether the neighborhood +were a pleasant one, of an infantry officer, one of Hallberg's corps. +"For," said he, "I come from charming quarters." + +"There is not much to boast of," replied the captain. "There is no good +fellowship, no harmony among the people." + +"I will tell you why that is," cried an animated lieutenant; "that is +because there is no house as a point of reunion, where one is sure to +find and make acquaintances, and to be amused, and where each individual +ascertains his own merits by the effect they produce on society at +large." + +"Yes, we have had nothing of that kind since the Varniers left us," said +the captain. + +"Varniers!" cried Edward, with an eagerness he could ill conceal. "The +name sounds foreign." + +"They were not Germans--they were emigrants from the Netherlands, who +had left their country on account of political troubles," replied the +captain. + +"Ah, that was a charming house," cried the lieutenant, "cultivation, +refinement, a sufficient competency, the whole style of the +establishment free from ostentation, yet most comfortable; and +Emily--Emily was the soul of the whole house." + +"Emily Varnier!" echoed Edward, while his heart beat fast and loud. + +"Yes, yes! that was the name of the prettiest, most graceful, most +amiable girl in the world," said the lieutenant. + +"You seem bewitched by the fair Emily," observed the cornet. + +"I think you would have been too, had you known her;" rejoined the +lieutenant; "she was the jewel of the whole society. Since she went away +there is no bearing their stupid balls and assemblies." + +"But you must not forget," the captain resumed once more, "when you +attribute every thing to the charms of the fair girl, that not only she +but the whole family has disappeared, and we have lost that house which +formed, as you say, so charming a point of reunion in our neighborhood." + +"Yes, yes; exactly so," said an old gentleman, a civilian, who had been +silent hitherto; "the Varniers' house is a great loss in the country, +where such losses are not so easily replaced as in a large town. First, +the father died, then came the cousin and carried the daughter away." + +"And did this cousin marry the young lady?" inquired Edward, in a tone +tremulous with agitation. + +"Certainly," answered the old gentleman; "it was a very great match for +her; he bought land to the value of half a million about here." + +"And he was an agreeable, handsome man, we must all allow," remarked the +captain. + +"But she would never have married him," exclaimed the lieutenant, "if +poor Hallberg had not died." + +Edward was breathless, but he did not speak a word. + +"She would have been compelled to do so in any case," said the old man; +"the father had destined them for each other from infancy, and people +say he made his daughter take a vow as he lay on his death-bed." + +"That sounds terrible," said Edward; "and does not speak much for the +good feeling of the cousin." + +"She could not have fulfilled her father's wish," interposed the +lieutenant; "her heart was bound up in Hallberg, and Hallberg's in her. +Few people, perhaps, knew this, for the lovers were prudent and +discreet; I, however, knew it all." + +"And why was she not allowed to follow the inclination of her heart?" +asked Edward. + +"Because her father had promised her," replied the captain: "you used +just now the word terrible; it is a fitting expression, according to my +version of the matter. It appears that one of the branches of the house +of Varnier had committed an act of injustice toward another, and Emily's +father considered it a point of conscience to make reparation. Only +through the marriage of his daughter with a member of the ill-used +branch could that act be obliterated and made up for, and, therefore, he +pressed the matter sorely." + +"Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with +abetted his designs." + +"Then her cousin loved Emily?" inquired Edward. + +"Oh, to desperation," was the reply; "He was a rival to her shadow, who +followed her not more closely than he did. He was jealous of the rose +that she placed on her bosom." + +"Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man," +said Edward. + +"Come," interposed the old gentleman, with an authoritative tone, "I +think you, gentlemen, go a little too far. I know D'Effernay; he is an +honest, talented man, very rich, indeed, and generous; he anticipates +his wife in every wish. She has the most brilliant house in the +neighborhood, and lives like a princess." + +"And trembles," insisted the lieutenant, "when she hears her husband's +footstep. What good can riches be to her? She would have been happier +with Hallberg." + +"I do not know," rejoined the captain, "why you always looked upon that +attachment as something so decided. It never appeared so to me; and you +yourself say that D'Effernay is very jealous, which I believe him to be, +for he is a man of strong passions; and this very circumstance causes me +to doubt the rest of your story. Jealousy has sharp eyes, and D'Effernay +would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the +friend he always was to our poor comrade." + +"That does not follow at all," rejoined the lieutenant, "it only proves +that the lovers were very cautious. So far, however, I agree with you. I +believe that if D'Effernay had suspected any thing of the kind he would +have murdered Hallberg." + +A shudder passed through Edward's veins. + +"Murdered!" he repeated in a hollow voice; "do you not judge too harshly +of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?" + +"That does he, indeed," said the old man; "these gentlemen are all angry +with D'Effernay, because he has carried off the prettiest girl in the +country. But I am told he does not intend remaining where he now lives. +He wishes to sell his estates." + +"Really," inquired the captain, "and where is he going?" + +"I have no idea," replied the other; "but he is selling every thing off. +One manor is already disposed of, and there have been people already in +negotiation for the place where he resides." + +The conversation now turned on the value of D'Effernay's property, and +of land in general, &c. + +Edward had gained materials enough for reflection; he rose soon, took +leave of the company, and gave himself up, in the solitude of his own +room, to the torrent of thought and feeling which that night's +conversation had let loose. So, then, it was true; Emily Varnier was no +fabulous being! Hallberg had loved her, his love had been returned, but +a cruel destiny had separated them. How wonderfully did all he had heard +explain the dream at the Castle, and how completely did that supply what +had remained doubtful, or had been omitted in the officer's narrative. +Emily Varnier, doubtless, possessed that ring, to gain possession of +which now seemed his bounden duty. He resolved not to delay its +fulfillment a moment, however difficult it might prove, and he only +reflected on the best manner in which he should perform the task +allotted to him. The sale of the property appeared to him a favorable +opening. The fame of his father's wealth made it probable that the son +might wish to be a purchaser of a fine estate, like the one in question. +He spoke openly of such a project, made inquiries of the old gentleman, +and the captain, who seemed to him to know most about the matter; and as +his duties permitted a trip for a week or so, he started immediately, +and arrived on the second day at the place of his destination. He +stopped in the public house in the village to inquire if the estate lay +near, and whether visitors were allowed to see the house and grounds. +Mine host, who doubtless had had his directions, sent a messenger +immediately to the Castle, who returned before long, accompanied by a +chasseur, in a splendid livery, who invited the stranger to the Castle +in the name of M. D'Effernay. + +This was exactly what Edward wished, and expected. Escorted by the +chasseur he soon arrived at the Castle, and was shown up a spacious +staircase into a modern, almost, one might say, a +magnificently-furnished room, where the master of the house received +him. It was evening, toward the end of winter, the shades of twilight +had already fallen, and Edward found himself suddenly in a room quite +illuminated with wax candles. D'Effernay stood in the middle of the +saloon, a tall, thin young man. A proud bearing seemed to bespeak a +consciousness of his own merit, or at least of his position. His +features were finely formed, but the traces of stormy passion, or of +internal discontent, had lined them prematurely. + +In figure he was very slender, and the deep sunken eye, the gloomy frown +which was fixed between his brows, and the thin lips, had no very +prepossessing expression, and yet there was something imposing in the +whole appearance of the man. + +Edward thanked him civilly for his invitation, spoke of his idea of +being a purchaser as a motive for his visit, and gave his own, and his +father's name. D'Effernay seemed pleased with all he said. He had known +Edward's family in the metropolis; he regretted that the late hour would +render it impossible for them to visit the property to-day, and +concluded by pressing the lieutenant to pass the night at the Castle. On +the morrow they would proceed to business, and now he would have the +pleasure of presenting his wife to the visitor. Edward's heart beat +violently--at length then he would see her! Had he loved her himself he +could not have gone to meet her with more agitation. D'Effernay led his +guest through many rooms, which were all as well furnished, and as +brilliantly lighted, as the first he had entered. At length he opened +the door of a small boudoir, where there was no light, save that which +the faint, gray twilight imparted through the windows. + +The simple arrangement of this little room, with dark green walls, only +relieved by some engravings and coats of arms, formed a pleasing +contrast to Edward's eyes, after the glaring splendor of the other +apartments. From behind a piano-forte, at which she had been seated in a +recess, rose a tall, slender female form, in a white dress of extreme +simplicity. + +"My love," said D'Effernay, "I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant +Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate." + +Emily courtesied; the friendly twilight concealed the shudder that +passed over her whole frame, as she heard the familiar name which +aroused so many recollections. + +She bade the stranger welcome, in a low, sweet voice, whose tremulous +accents were not unobserved by Edward; and while the husband made some +further observation, he had leisure to remark, as well as the fading +light would allow, the fair outline of her oval face, the modest grace +of her movements, her pretty nymph-like figure--in fact, all those +charms which seemed familiar to him through the impassioned descriptions +of his friend. + +"But what can this fancy be, to sit in the dark?" asked D'Effernay, in +no mild tone; "you know that is a thing I can not bear:" and with these +words, and without waiting his wife's answer, he rang the bell over her +sofa, and ordered lights. + +While these were placed on the table, the company sat down by the fire, +and conversation commenced. By the full light Edward could perceive all +Emily's real beauty--her pale, but lovely face, the sad expression of +her large blue eyes, so often concealed by their dark lashes, and then +raised, with a look full of feeling, a sad, pensive, intellectual +expression; and he admired the simplicity of her dress, and of every +object that surrounded her: all appeared to him to bespeak a superior +mind. + +They had not sat long, before D'Effernay was called away. One of his +people had something important, something urgent to communicate to him, +which admitted of no delay. A look of fierce anger almost distorted his +features; in an instant his thin lips moved rapidly, and Edward thought +he muttered some curses between his teeth. He left the room, but in so +doing, he cast a glance of mistrust and ill-temper on the handsome +stranger with whom he was compelled to leave his wife alone. Edward +observed it all. All that he had seen to-day--all that he had heard from +his comrades of the man's passionate and suspicious disposition, +convinced him that his stay here would not be long, and that, perhaps, a +second opportunity of speaking alone with Emily might not offer itself. + +He determined, therefore, to profit by the present moment: and no sooner +had D'Effernay left the room, than he began to tell Emily she was not so +complete a stranger to him as it might seem; that long before he had had +the pleasure of seeing her--even before he had heard her name--she was +known to him, so to speak, in spirit. + +Madame D'Effernay was moved. She was silent for a time, and gazed +fixedly on the ground; then she looked up; the mist of unshed tears +dimmed her blue eyes, and her bosom heaved with the sigh she could not +suppress. + +"To me also the name of Wensleben is familiar. There is a link between +our souls. Your friend has often spoken of you to me." + +But she could say no more; tears checked her speech. + +Edward's eyes were glistening also, and the two companions were silent; +at length he began once more: + +"My dear lady," he said, "my time is short, and I have a solemn message +to deliver to you. Will you allow me to do so now?" + +"To me?" she asked, in a tone of astonishment. + +"From my departed friend," answered Edward, emphatically. + +"From Ferdinand? and that now--after--" she shrunk back, as if in +terror. + +"Now that he is no longer with us, do you mean? I found the message in +his papers, which have been intrusted to me only lately, since I have +been in the neighborhood. Among them was a token which I was to restore +to you." He produced the ring. Emily seized it wildly, and trembled as +she looked upon it. + +"It is indeed my ring," she said at length, "the same which I gave him +when we plighted our troth in secret. You are acquainted with every +thing, I perceive; I shall therefore risk nothing if I speak openly." +She wept, and pressed the ring to her lips. + +"I see that my friend's memory is dear to you," continued Edward. "You +will forgive the prayer I am about to make to you; my visit to you +concerns his ring." + +"How--what is it you wish?" cried Emily, terrified. + +"It was _his_ wish," replied Edward. "He evinced an earnest desire to +have this pledge of an unfortunate and unfulfilled engagement restored." + +"How is that possible? You did not speak with him before his death; and +this happened so suddenly after, that, to give you the commission--" + +"There was no time for it! that is true," answered Edward, with an +inward, shudder, although outwardly he was calm. "Perhaps this wish was +awakened immediately before his death. I found it, as I told you, +expressed in those papers." + +"Incomprehensible!" she exclaimed. "Only a short time before his death, +we cherished--deceitful, indeed, they proved, but, oh, what blessed +hopes!--we reckoned on casualties, on what might possibly occur to +assist us. Neither of us could endure to dwell on the idea of +separation; and yet--yet since--Oh, my God!" she cried, overcome by +sorrow, and she hid her face between her hands. Edward was lost in +confused thought. For a time both again were silent; at length Emily +started up-- + +"Forgive me, M. de Wensleben. What you have related to me, what you have +asked of me, has produced so much excitement, so much agitation, that it +is necessary that I should be alone for a few moments, to recover my +composure." + +"I am gone," cried Edward, springing from his chair. + +"No! no!" she replied, "you are my guest; remain here. I have a +household duty which calls me away." She laid a stress on these words. + +She leant forward, and with a sad, sweet smile, she gave her hand to the +friend of her lost Ferdinand, pressing his gently, and disappeared +through the inner door. + +Edward stood stunned, bewildered; then he paced the room with hasty +steps, threw himself on the sofa, and took up one of the books that lay +on the table, rather to have something in his hand, than to read. It +proved to be Young's "Night Thoughts." He looked through it, and was +attracted by many passages, which seemed, in his present frame of mind, +fraught with peculiar meaning; yet his thoughts wandered constantly from +the page to his dead friend. The candles, unheeded both by Emily and +him, burned on with long wicks, giving little light in the silent room, +over which the red glare from the hearth shed a lurid glow. Hurried +footsteps sounded in the ante-room; the door was thrown open. Edward +looked up, and saw D'Effernay staring at him, and round the room, in an +angry, restless manner. + +Edward could not but think there was something almost unearthly in those +dark looks and that towering form. + +"Where is my wife?" was D'Effernay's first question. + +"She is gone to fulfill some household duty," replied the other. + +"And leaves you here alone in this miserable darkness? Most +extraordinary!--indeed, most unaccountable!" and, as he spoke, he +approached the table and snuffed the candles, with a movement of +impatience. + +"She left me here with old friends," said Edward, with a forced smile. +"I have been reading." + +"What, in the dark?" inquired D'Effernay, with a look of distrust. "It +was so dark when I came in, that you could not possibly have +distinguished a letter." + +"I read for some time, and then I fell into a train of thought, which is +usually the result of reading Young's "Night Thoughts." + +"Young! I can not bear that author. He is so gloomy." + +"But you are fortunately so happy, that the lamentations of the lonely +mourner can find no echo in your breast." + +"You think so!" said D'Effernay, in a churlish tone, and he pressed his +lips together tightly, as Emily came into the room: he went to meet +her. + +"You have been a long time away," was his observation, as he looked into +her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. "I found +our guest alone." + +"M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me," she replied, "and then I +thought you would be back immediately." + +They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared to +be forgotten. + +The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw that +Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to pacify her +husband's ill humor. + +In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were +successful. D'Effernay became more cheerful; the conversation more +animated; and Edward found that his host could be a very agreeable +member of society when he pleased, combining a good deal of information +with great natural powers. The evening passed away more pleasantly than +it promised at one time; and after an excellent and well-served supper, +the young officer was shown into a comfortable room, fitted up with +every modern luxury; and weary in mind and body, he soon fell asleep. He +dreamed of all that had occupied his waking thoughts--of his friend, and +his friend's history. + +But in that species of confusion which often characterizes dreams, he +fancied that he was Ferdinand, or at least, his own individuality seemed +mixed up with that of Hallberg. He felt that he was ill. He lay in an +unknown room, and by his bedside stood a small table, covered with +glasses and phials, containing medicine, as is usual in a sick room. + +The door opened, and D'Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as if he +had just left his bed: and now in Edward's mind dreams and realities +were mingled together, and he thought that D'Effernay came, perhaps, to +speak with him on the occurrences of the preceding day. But no! he +approached the table on which the medicines stood, looked at the watch, +took up one of the phials and a cup, measured the draught, drop by drop, +then he turned and looked round him stealthily, and then he drew from +his breast a pale blue, coiling serpent, which he threw into the cup, +and held it to the patient's lips, who drank, and instantly felt, a +numbness creep over his frame which ended in death. Edward fancied that +he was dead; he saw the coffin brought, but the terror lest he should be +buried alive, made him start up with a sudden effort, and he opened his +eyes. + +The dream had passed away; he sat in his bed safe and well; but it was +long ere he could in any degree recover his composure, or get rid of the +impression which the frightful apparition had made on him. They brought +his breakfast, with a message from the master of the house to inquire +whether he would like to visit the park, farms, &c. He dressed quickly, +and descended to the court, where he found his host in a riding-dress, +by the side of two fine horses, already saddled. D'Effernay greeted the +young man courteously; but Edward felt an inward repugnance as he looked +on that gloomy though handsome countenance, now lighted up by the beams +of the morning sun, yet recalling vividly the dark visions of the night. +D'Effernay was full of attentions to his new friend. They started on +their ride, in spite of some threatening clouds, and began the +inspection of meadows, shrubberies, farms, &c., &c. After a couple of +hours, which were consumed in this manner, it began to rain a few drops, +and at last burst out into a heavy shower. It was soon impossible even +to ride through the woods for the torrents that were pouring down, and +so they returned to the castle. + +Edward retired to his room to change his dress, and to write some +letters, he said, but more particularly to avoid Emily, in order not to +excite her husband's jealousy. As the bell rang for dinner he saw her +again, and found to his surprise that the captain, whom he had first +seen in the coffee-room, and who had given him so much information, was +one of the party. He was much pleased, for they had taken a mutual fancy +to each other. The captain was not at quarters the day Edward had left +them, but as soon as he heard where his friend had gone, he put horses +to his carriage and followed him, for he said he also should like to see +these famous estates. D'Effernay seemed in high good humor to-day, Emily +far more silent than yesterday, and taking little part in the +conversation of the men, which turned on political economy. After coffee +she found an opportunity to give Edward (unobserved) a little packet. +The look with which she did so, told plainly what it contained, and the +young man hurried to his room as soon as he fancied he could do so +without remark or comment. The continued rain precluded all idea of +leaving the house any more that day. He unfolded the packet; there were +a couple of sheets, written closely in a woman's fair hand, and +something wrapped carefully in a paper, which he knew to be the ring. It +was the fellow to that which he had given the day before to Emily, only +Ferdinand's name was engraved inside instead of hers. Such were the +contents of the papers: + +"Secrecy would be misplaced with the friend of the dead. Therefore will +I speak to you of things which I have never uttered to a human being +until now. Jules D'Effernay is nearly related to me. We knew each other +in the Netherlands, where our estates joined. The boy loved me already +with a love that amounted to passion; this love was my father's greatest +joy, for there was an old and crying injustice which the ancestors of +D'Effernay had suffered from ours, that could alone, he thought, be made +up by the marriage of the only children of the two branches. So we were +destined for each other almost from our cradles; and I was content it +should be so, for Jules's handsome face and decided preference for me +were agreeable to me, although I felt no great affection for him. We +were separated: Jules traveled in France, England, and America, and made +money as a merchant, which profession he had taken up suddenly. My +father, who had a place under government, left his country in +consequence of political troubles, and came into this part of the world, +where some distant relations of my mother's lived. He liked the +neighborhood; he bought land; we lived very happily; I was quite +contented in Jules's absence; I had no yearning of the heart toward him, +yet I thought kindly of him, and troubled myself little about my future. +Then--then I learned to know your friend. Oh, then! I felt, when I +looked upon him, when I listened to him, when we conversed together, I +felt, I acknowledged, that there might be happiness on earth of which I +had hitherto never dreamed. Then I loved for the first time, ardently, +passionately, and was beloved in return. Acquainted with the family +engagements; he did not dare openly to proclaim his love, and I knew I +ought not to foster the feeling; but, alas! how seldom does passion +listen to the voice of reason and of duty. Your friend and I met in +secret; in secret we plighted our troth, and exchanged those rings, and +hoped and believed that by showing a bold front to our destiny we should +subdue it to our will. The commencement was sinful, it has met with a +dire retribution. Jules's letters announced his speedy return. He had +sold every thing in his own country, had given up all his mercantile +affairs, through which he had greatly increased an already considerable +fortune, and now he was about to join us, or rather me, without whom he +could not live. This appeared to me like the demand for payment of a +heavy debt. This debt I owed to Jules, who loved me with all his heart, +who was in possession of my father's promised word and mine also. Yet I +could not give up your friend. In a state of distraction I told him all; +we meditated flight. Yes, I was so far guilty, and I make the confession +in hopes that some portion of my errors may be expiated by repentance. +My father, who had long been in a declining state, suddenly grew worse, +and this delayed and hindered the fulfillment of our designs. Jules +arrived. During the five years he had been away he was much changed in +appearance, and that advantageously. I was struck when I first saw him, +but it was also easy to detect in those handsome features and manly +bearing, a spirit of restlessness and violence which had already shown +itself in him as a boy, and which passing years, with their bitter +experience and strong passions, had greatly developed. The hope that we +had cherished of D'Effernay's possible indifference to me, of the change +which time might have wrought in his attachment, now seemed idle and +absurd. His love was indeed impassioned. He embraced me in a manner that +made me shrink from him, and altogether his deportment toward me was a +strange contrast to the gentle, tender, refined affection of our dear +friend. I trembled whenever Jules entered the room, and all that I had +prepared to say to him, all the plans which I had revolved in my mind +respecting him, vanished in an instant before the power of his presence, +and the almost imperative manner in which he claimed my hand. My +father's illness increased; he was now in a very precarious state, +hopeless indeed. Jules rivaled me in filial attentions to him, that I +can never cease to thank him for; but this illness made my situation +more and more critical, and it accelerated the fulfillment of the +contract. I was to renew my promise to him by the death-bed of my +father. Alas, alas! I fell senseless to the ground when this +announcement was made to me. Jules began to suspect. Already my cold, +embarrassed manner toward him since his return had struck him as +strange. He began to suspect, I repeat, and the effect that this +suspicion had on him, it would be impossible to describe to you. Even +now, after so long a time, now that I am accustomed to his ways, and +more reconciled to my fate by the side of a noble, though somewhat +impetuous man, it makes me tremble to think of those paroxysms, which +the idea that I did not love him called forth. They were fearful; he +nearly sank under them. During two days his life was in danger. At last +the storm passed, my father died; Jules watched over me with the +tenderness of a brother, the solicitude of a parent; for that indeed I +shall ever be grateful. His suspicion once awakened, he gazed round with +penetrating looks to discover the cause of my altered feelings. But your +friend never came to our house; we met in an unfrequented spot, and my +father's illness had interrupted these interviews. Altogether I can not +tell if Jules discovered any thing. A fearful circumstance rendered all +our precautions useless, and cut the knot of our secret connection, to +loose which voluntarily I felt I had no power. A wedding-feast, at a +neighboring castle, assembled all the nobility and gentry, and officers +quartered near, together; my deep mourning was an excuse for my absence. +Jules, though he usually was happiest by my side, could not resist the +invitation, and your friend resolved to go, although he was unwell; he +feared to raise suspicion by remaining away, when I was left at home. +With great difficulty he contrived the first day to make one at a +splendid hunt, the second day he could not leave his bed. A physician, +who was in the house, pronounced his complaint to be violent fever, and +Jules, whose room joined that of the sick man, offered him every little +service and kindness which compassion and good feeling prompted; and I +can not but praise him all the more for it, as who can tell, perhaps, +his suspicion might have taken the right direction? On the morning of +the second day--but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the +memory of which can never pass from my mind--a fit of apoplexy most +unexpectedly, but gently, ended the noblest life, and separated us +forever! Now you know all. I inclose the ring. I can not write more. +Farewell!" + +The conclusion of the letter made a deep impression on Edward. His dream +rose up before his remembrance, the slight indisposition, the sudden +death, the fearful nurse-tender, all arranged themselves in order before +his mind, and an awful whole rose out of all these reflections, a +terrible suspicion which he tried to throw off. But he could not do so, +and when he met the captain and D'Effernay in the evening, and the +latter challenged his visitors to a game of billiards, Edward glanced +from time to time at his host in a scrutinizing manner, and could not +but feel that the restless discontent which was visible in his +countenance, and the unsteady glare of his eyes, which shunned the fixed +look of others, only fitted too well into the shape of the dark thoughts +which were crossing his own mind. Late in the evening, after supper, +they played whist in Emily's boudoir. On the morrow, if the weather +permitted, they were to conclude their inspection of the surrounding +property, and the next day they were to visit the iron foundries, which, +although distant from the castle several miles, formed a very important +item in the rent-roll of the estates. The company separated for the +night. Edward fell asleep; and the same dream, with the same +circumstances, recurred, only with the full consciousness that the sick +man was Ferdinand. Edward felt overpowered, a species of horror took +possession of his mind, as he found himself now in regular Communication +with the beings of the invisible world. + +The weather favored D'Effernay's projects. The whole day was passed in +the open air. Emily only appeared at meals, and in the evening when they +played at cards. Both she and Edward avoided, as if by mutual consent, +every word, every look that could awaken the slightest suspicion, or +jealous feeling in D'Effernay's mind. She thanked him in her heart for +this forbearance, but her thoughts were in another world; she took +little heed of what passed around her. Her husband was in an excelled +temper; he played the part of host to perfection and when the two +officers were established comfortably by the fire, in the captain's +room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his courteous +manners. + +"He appears to be a man of general information," remarked Edward. + +"He has traveled a great deal, and read a great deal, as I told you when +we first met; he is a remarkable man, but one of uncontrolled passions, +and desperately jealous." + +"Yet he appears very attentive to his wife." + +"Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy, +and himself too." + +"He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness." + +"He can never bear to remain in one place for any length of time +together. He is now going to sell the property he only bought last +year. There is an instability about him; every thing palls on him." + +"That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the +world." + +"Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me +that man must have a bad conscience." + +"What an idea!" rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the captain's +remark struck him forcibly. "He seems a man of honor." + +"Oh, one may be a man of honor, as it is called, and yet have something +quite bad enough to reproach yourself with. But I know nothing about it, +and would not breathe such a thing except to you. His wife, too, looks +so pale and so oppressed." + +"But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression." + +"Oh, no! no! the year before D'Effernay came from Paris, she was as +fresh as a rose. Many people declare that your poor friend loved her. +The affair was wrapped in mystery, and I never believed the report, for +Hallberg was a steady man, and the whole country knew that Emily had +been engaged a long time." + +"Hallberg never mentioned the name in his letters," answered Edward, +with less candor than usual. + +"I thought not. Besides D'Effernay was very much attached to him, and +mourned his death." + +"Indeed!" + +"I assure you the morning that Hallberg was found dead in his bed so +unexpectedly, D'Effernay was like one beside himself." + +"Very extraordinary. But as we are on the subject, tell me, I pray you, +all the circumstances of my poor Ferdinand's illness, and awfully sudden +death." + +"I can tell you all about it, as well as any one, for I was one of the +guests at that melancholy wedding. Your friend, and I, and many others +were invited. Hallberg had some idea of not going; he was unwell, with +violent headache and giddiness. But we persuaded him, and he consented +to go with us. The first day he felt tolerably well. We hunted in the +open field; we were all on horseback, the day hot. Hallberg felt worse. +The second day he had a great deal of fever; he could not stay up. The +physician (for fortunately there was one in the company) ordered rest, +cooling medicine, neither of which seemed to do him good. The rest of +the men dispersed, to amuse themselves in various ways. Only D'Effernay +remained at home; he was never very fond of large societies, and we +voted that he was discontented and out of humor because his betrothed +bride was not with him. His room was next to the sick man's, to whom he +gave all possible care and attention, for poor Hallberg, besides being +ill, was in despair at giving so much trouble in a strange house. +D'Effernay tried to calm him on this point; he nursed him, amused him +with conversation, mixed his medicines, and, in fact, showed more +kindness and tenderness, than any of us would have given him credit +for. Before I went to bed I visited Hallberg, and found him much better, +and more cheerful; the doctor had promised that he should leave his bed +next day. So I left him and retired with the rest of the world, rather +late, and very tired, to rest. The next morning I was awoke by the fatal +tidings. I did not wait to dress, I ran to his room, it was full of +people." + +"And how, how was the death first discovered?" inquired Edward, in +breathless eagerness. + +"The servant, who came in to attend on him, thought he was asleep, for +he lay in his usual position, his head upon his hand. He went away and +waited for some time; but hours passed, and he thought he ought to wake +his master to give him his medicine. Then the awful discovery was made. +He must have died peacefully, for his countenance was so calm, his limbs +undisturbed. A fit of apoplexy had terminated his life, but in the most +tranquil manner." + +"Incomprehensible," said Edward, with a deep sigh. "Did they take no +measures to restore animation?" + +"Certainly; all that could be done was done, bleeding, fomentation, +friction; the physician superintended, but there was no hope, it was all +too late. He must have been dead some hours, for he was already cold and +stiff. If there had been a spark of life in him he would have been +saved. It was all over; I had lost my good lieutenant, and the regiment +one of its finest officers." + +He was silent, and appeared lost in thought. Edward, for his part, felt +overwhelmed by terrible suspicions and sad memories. After a long pause +he recovered himself: "and where was D'Effernay?" he inquired. + +"D'Effernay," answered the captain, rather surprised at the question; +"oh! he was not in the castle when we made the dreadful discovery: he +had gone out for an early walk, and when he came back late, not before +noon, he learned the truth, and was like one out of his senses. It +seemed so awful to him, because he had been so much, the very day +before, with poor Hallberg." + +"Ay," answered Edward, whose suspicions were being more and more +confirmed every moment. "And did he see the corpse? did he go into the +chamber of death?" + +"No," replied the captain; "he assured us it was out of his power to do +so; he could not bear the sight; and I believe it. People with such +uncontrolled feelings as this D'Effernay, are incapable of performing +those duties which others think it necessary and incumbent on them to +fulfill." + +"And where was Hallberg buried?" + +"Not far from the Castle where the mournful event took place. To-morrow, +if we go to the iron foundry, we shall be near the spot." + +"I am glad of it," cried Edward, eagerly, while a host of projects rose +up in his mind. "But now, captain, I will not trespass any longer on +your kindness. It is late, and we must be up betimes to-morrow. How far +have we to go?" + +"Not less than four leagues, certainly. D'Effernay has arranged that we +shall drive there, and see it all at our leisure: then we shall return +in the evening. Good night, Wensleben." + +They separated: Edward hurried to his room; his heart overflowed. Sorrow +on the one hand, horror and even hatred on the other, agitated him by +turns. It was long before he could sleep. For the third time the vision +haunted him; but now it was clearer than before; now he saw plainly the +features of him who lay in bed, and of him who stood beside the +bed--they were those of Hallberg and of D'Effernay. + +This third apparition, the exact counterpart of the two former (only +more vivid), all that he had gathered from conversations on the subject, +and the contents of Emily's letter, left scarcely the shadow of a doubt +remaining as to how his friend had left the world. + +D'Effernay's jealous and passionate nature seemed to allow of the +possibility of such a crime, and it could scarcely be wondered at, if +Edward regarded him with a feeling akin to hatred. Indeed the desire of +visiting Hallberg's grave, in order to place the ring in the coffin, +could alone reconcile Wensleben to the idea of remaining any longer +beneath the roof of a man whom he now considered the murderer of his +friend. His mind was a prey to conflicting doubts: detestation for the +culprit, and grief for the victim, pointed out one line of conduct, +while the difficulty of proving D'Effernay's guilt, and still more, pity +and consideration for Emily, determined him at length to let the matter +rest, and to leave the murderer, if such he really were, to the +retribution which his own conscience and the justice of God would award +him. He would seek his friend's grave, and then he would separate from +D'Effernay, and never see him more. In the midst of these reflections +the servant came to tell him, that the carriage was ready. A shudder +passed over his frame as D'Effernay greeted him; but he commanded +himself, and they started on their expedition. + +Edward spoke but little, and that only when it was necessary, and the +conversation was kept up by his two companions; he had made every +inquiry, before he set out, respecting the place of his friend's +interment, the exact situation of the tomb, the name of the village, and +its distance from the main road. On their way home, he requested that +D'Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile +or two, as far as the village of ----, with whose rector he was +particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on +D'Effernay's brow, yet it seemed no more than his usual expression of +vexation at any delay or hinderance; and he was so anxious to propitiate +his rich visitor, who appeared likely to take the estate off his hands, +that he complied with all possible courtesy. The coachman was directed +to turn down a by-road, and a very bad one it was. The captain stood up +in the carriage and pointed out the village to him, at some distance +off; it lay in a deep ravine at the foot of the mountains. + +They arrived in the course of time, and inquired for the clergyman's +house, which, as well as the church, was situated on rising ground. The +three companions alighted from the carriage, which they left at the +bottom of the hill, and walked up together in the direction of the +rectory. Edward knocked at the door and was admitted, while the two +others sat on a bench outside. He had promised to return speedily, but +to D'Effernay's restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared +interminable. + +He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, "M. de +Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have +been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his +appearance." + +"Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long." + +"What on earth can he have to do here?" + +"Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy--the enthusiasm of youth." + +"It has a name, I suppose?" + +"Certainly, but--" + +"Is it sufficiently important, think you, to make us run the risk of +being benighted on such roads as these?" + +"Why, it is quite early in the day." + +"But we have more than two leagues to go. Why will you not speak? there +can not be any great mystery." + +"Well, perhaps not a mystery exactly, but just one of those subjects on +which we are usually reserved with others." + +"So! so!" rejoined D'Effernay, with a little sneer. "Some love affair; +some girl or another who pursues him, that he wants to get rid of." + +"Nothing of the kind, I can assure you," replied the captain, drily. "It +could scarcely be more innocent. He wishes, in fact, to visit his +friend's grave." + +The listener's expression was one of scorn and anger. "It is worth the +trouble, certainly," he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh. "A charming +sentimental pilgrimage, truly; and pray who is this beloved friend, over +whose resting-place he must shed a tear, and plant a forget-me-not? He +told me he had never been in the neighborhood before." + +"No more he had; neither did he know where poor Hallberg was buried +until I told him." + +"Hallberg!" echoed the other in a tone that startled the captain, and +caused him to turn and look fixedly in the speaker's face. It was deadly +pale, and the captain observed the effort which D'Effernay made to +recover his composure. + +"Hallberg!" he repeated again, in a calmer tone, "and was Wensleben a +friend of his?" + +"His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the +academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend." + +"Indeed!" said D'Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up +into a passion. "And this lieutenant came here on this account, then, +and the purchase of the estates was a mere excuse?" + +"I beg your pardon," observed the captain, in a decided tone of voice; +"I have already told you that it was I who informed him of the place +where his friend lies buried." + +"That may be, but it was owing to his friendship, to the wish to learn +something further of his fate, that we are indebted for the visit of +this romantic knight-errant." + +"That does not appear likely," replied the captain, who thought it +better to avert, if possible, the rising storm of his companion's fury. +"Why should he seek for news of Hallberg here, when he comes from the +place where he was quartered for a long time, and where all his comrades +now are." + +"Well, I don't know," cried D'Effernay, whose passion increased every +moment. "Perhaps you have heard what was once gossiped about the +neighborhood, that Hallberg was an admirer of my wife before she +married." + +"Oh yes, I have heard that report, but never believed it. Hallberg was a +prudent, steady man, and every one knew that Mademoiselle Varnier's hand +had been promised for some time." + +"Yes! yes! but you do not know to what lengths passion and avarice may +lead: for Emily was rich. We must not forget that, when we discuss the +matter; an elopement with the rich heiress would have been a fine thing +for a poor, beggarly lieutenant." + +"Shame! shame! M. D'Effernay. How can you slander the character of that +upright young man? If Hallberg were so unhappy as to love Mademoiselle +Varnier--" + +"That he did! you may believe me so far. I had reason to know it, and I +did know it." + +"We had better change the conversation altogether, as it has taken so +unpleasant a turn. Hallberg is dead; his errors, be they what they may, +lie buried with him. His name stands high with all who knew him. Even +you, M. D'Effernay--you were his friend." + +"I his friend? I hated him; I loathed him!" D'Effernay could not +proceed; he foamed at the mouth with rage. + +"Compose yourself!" said the captain, rising as he spoke, "you look and +speak like a madman." + +"A madman! Who says I am mad? Now I see it all--- the connection of the +whole--the shameful conspiracy." + +"Your conduct is perfectly incomprehensible to me," answered the +captain, with perfect coolness. "Did you not attend Hallberg in his last +illness, and give him his medicines with your own hand?" + +"I!" stammered D'Effernay. "No! no! no!" he cried, while the captain's +growing suspicions increased every moment, on account of the +perturbation which his companion displayed. "I never gave his +medicines; whoever says that is a liar." + +"I say it!" exclaimed the officer, in a loud tone, for his patience was +exhausted. "I say it, because I know that it was so, and I will maintain +that fact against any one at any time. If you choose to contradict the +evidence of my senses, it is you who are a liar!" + +"Ha! you shall give me satisfaction for this insult. Depend upon it, I +am not one to be trifled with, as you shall find. You shall retract your +words." + +"Never! I am ready to defend every word I have uttered here on this +spot, at this moment, if you please. You have your pistols in the +carriage, you know." + +D'Effernay cast a look of hatred on the speaker, and then dashing down +the little hill, to the surprise of the servants, he dragged the pistols +from the sword-case, and was by the captain's side in a moment. But the +loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and +there he stood on D'Effernay's return; and by his side a venerable old +man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand. + +"In heaven's name, what has happened?" cried Wensleben. + +"What are you about to do?" interposed the rector, in a tone of +authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror. "Are you +going to commit murder on this sacred spot, close to the precincts of +the church?" + +"Murder! who speaks of murder?" cried D'Effernay. "Who can prove it?" +and as he spoke, the captain turned a fierce, penetrating look upon him, +beneath which he quailed. + +"But, I repeat the question," Edward began once more, "what does all +this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come +back and find you both armed--both violently agitated--and M. +D'Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by +'proving it?'--to what do you allude?" At this moment, before any answer +could be made, a man came out of the house with a pick-ax and shovel on +his shoulder, and advancing toward the rector, said respectfully, "I am +quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard." + +It was now the captain's turn to look anxious: "What are you going to +do, you surely don't intend--?" but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted +him. + +"This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies +buried." + +"But these preparations, what do they mean?" + +"I will tell you," said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the +deepest emotion, "I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin +to be opened." + +"How, what?" screamed D'Effernay, once again. "Never--I will never +permit such a thing." + +"But, sir," the old man spoke, in a tone of calm decision, contrasting +wonderfully with the violence of him whom he addressed, "you have no +possible right to interfere. If this gentleman wishes it, and I accede +to the proposition, no one can prevent us from doing as we would." + +"I tell you I will not suffer it," continued D'Effernay, with the same +frightful agitation. "Stir at your peril," he cried, turning sharply +round upon the grave-digger, and holding a pistol to his head; but the +captain pulled his arm away, to the relief of the frightened peasant. + +"M. D'Effernay," he said, "your conduct for the last half-hour has been +most unaccountable--most unreasonable." + +"Come, come," interposed Edward, "let us say no more on the subject; but +let us be going," he addressed the rector; "we will not detain these +gentlemen much longer." + +He made a step toward the church-yard, but D'Effernay clutched his arm, +and, with an impious oath, "you shall not stir," he said; "that grave +shall not be opened." + +Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all +his doubts were confirmed. + +D'Effernay saw that Wensleben was resolved, and a deadly pallor spread +itself over his features, and a shudder passed visibly over his frame. + +"You are going!" he cried, with every gesture and appearance of +insanity. "Go, then;" ... and he pointed the muzzle of the pistol to his +mouth, and before any one could prevent him, he drew the trigger, and +fell back a corpse. The spectators were motionless with surprise and +horror; the captain was the first to recover himself in some degree. He +bent over the body with the faint hope of detecting some sign of life. +The old man turned pale and dizzy with a sense of terror, and he looked +as if he would have swooned, had not Edward led him gently into his +house, while the two others busied themselves with vain attempts to +restore life. The spirit of D'Effernay had gone to its last account! + +It was, indeed, an awful moment. Death in its worst shape was before +them, and a terrible duty still remained to be performed. + +Edward's cheek was blanched; his eye had a fixed look, yet he moved and +spoke with a species of mechanical action, which had something almost +ghastly in it. Causing the body to be removed into the house, he bade +the captain summon the servants of the deceased and then motioning with +his hand to the awe-struck sexton, he proceeded with him to the +church-yard. A few clods of earth alone were removed ere the captain +stood by his friend's side. + + * * * * * + +Here we must pause. Perhaps it were better altogether to emulate the +silence that was maintained then and afterward by the two comrades. But +the sexton could not be bribed to entire secrecy, and it was a story he +loved to tell, with details we gladly omit, of how Wensleben solemnly +performed his task--of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the +cause of Hallberg's death. Those who love the horrible must draw on +their own imaginations to supply what we resolutely withhold. + +Edward, we believe, never alluded to D'Effernay's death, and all the +awful circumstances attending it, but twice--once, when, with every +necessary detail, he and the captain gave their evidence to the legal +authorities; and once, with as few details as possible, when he had an +interview with the widow of the murderer, the beloved of the victim. The +particulars of this interview he never divulged, for he considered +Emily's grief too sacred to be exposed to the prying eyes of the curious +and the unfeeling. She left the neighborhood immediately, leaving her +worldly affairs in Wensleben's hands, who soon disposed of the property +for her. She returned to her native country, with the resolution of +spending the greater part of her wealth in relieving the distresses of +others, wisely seeking, in the exercise of piety and benevolence, the +only possible alleviation of her own deep and many-sided griefs. For +Edward, he was soon pronounced to have recovered entirely, from the +shock of these terrible events. Of a courageous and energetic +disposition, he pursued the duties of his profession with a firm step, +and hid his mighty sorrow deep in the recesses of his heart. To the +superficial observer, tears, groans, and lamentations are the only +proofs of sorrow; and when they subside, the sorrow is said to have +passed away also. Thus the captive, immured within the walls of his +prison-house, is as one dead to the outward world, though the jailer be +a daily witness to the vitality of affliction. + + + + +WORDSWORTH'S POSTHUMOUS POEM.[J] + + +This is a voice that speaks to us across a gulf of nearly fifty years. A +few months ago Wordsworth was taken from us at the ripe age of +fourscore, yet here we have him addressing the public, as for the first +time, with all the fervor, the unworn freshness, the hopeful confidence +of thirty. We are carried back to the period when Coleridge, Byron, +Scott, Rogers, and Moore were in their youthful prime. We live again in +the stirring days when the poets who divided public attention and +interest with the Fabian struggle in Portugal and Spain, with the wild +and terrible events of the Russian campaign, with the uprising of the +Teutonic nations, and the overthrow of Napoleon, were in a manner but +commencing their cycle of songs. This is to renew, to antedate, the +youth of a majority of the living generation. But only those whose +memory still carries them so far back, can feel within them any reflex +of that eager excitement, with which the news of battles fought and won, +or mail-coach copies of some new work of Scott, or Byron, or the +_Edinburgh Review_, were looked for and received in those already old +days. [J] We need not remind the readers of the _Excursion_, that when +Wordsworth was enabled, by the generous enthusiasm of Raisley Calvert, +to retire with a slender independence to his native mountains, there to +devote himself exclusively to his art, his first step was to review and +record in verse, the origin and progress of his own powers, as far as he +was acquainted with them. This was at once an exercise in versification, +and a test of the kind of poetry for which he was by temperament fitted. +The result was a determination to compose a philosophical poem, +containing views of man, of nature, and of society. This ambitious +conception has been doomed to share the fate of so many other colossal +undertakings. Of the three parts of his _Recluse_, thus planned, only +the second (the _Excursion_, published in 1814) has been completed. Of +the other two there exists only the first book of the first, and the +plan of the third. The _Recluse_ will remain in fragmentary greatness, a +poetical Cathedral of Cologne. + +Matters standing thus, it has not been without a melancholy sense of the +uncertainty of human projects, and of the contrast between the sanguine +enterprise and its silent evaporation (so often the "history of an +individual mind"), that we have perused this _Prelude_ which no +completed strain was destined to follow. Yet in the poem itself there is +nothing to inspire depression. It is animated throughout with the +hopeful confidence in the poet's own powers, so natural to the time of +life at which it was composed; it evinces a power and soar of +imagination unsurpassed in any of his writings; and its images and +incidents have a freshness and distinctness which they not seldom lost, +when they came to be elaborated, as many of them were, in his minor +poems of a later date. + +The _Prelude_, as the title page indicates, is a poetical autobiography, +commencing with the earliest reminiscences of the author, and continued +to the time at which it was composed. We are told that it was begun in +1799 and completed in 1805. It consists of fourteen books. Two are +devoted to the infancy and schooltime of the poet; four to the period of +his University life; two to a brief residence in London, immediately +subsequent to his leaving Cambridge, and a retrospect of the progress +his mind had then made; and three to a residence in France, chiefly in +the Loire, but partly in Paris, during the stormy period of Louis the +Sixteenth's flight and capture, and the fierce contest between the +Girondins and Robespierre. Five books are then occupied with an analysis +of the internal struggle occasioned by the contradictory influences of +rural and secluded nature in boyhood, and of society when the young man +first mingles with the world. The surcease of the strife is recorded in +the fourteenth book, entitled "Conclusion." + +The poem is addressed to Coleridge; and, apart from its poetical merits, +is interesting as at once a counterpart and supplement to that author's +philosophical and beautiful criticism of the _Lyrical Ballads_ in his +_Biographia Literaria_. It completes the explanation, there given, of +the peculiar constitution of Wordsworth's mind, and of his poetical +theory. It confirms and justifies our opinion that that theory was +essentially partial and erroneous; but at the same time, it establishes +the fact that Wordsworth was a true and a great poet in despite of his +theory. + +The great defect of Wordsworth, in our judgment, was want of sympathy +with, and knowledge of men. From his birth till his entry at college, he +lived in a region where he met with none whose minds might awaken his +sympathies, and where life was altogether uneventful. On the other hand, +that region abounded with the inert, striking, and most impressive +objects of natural scenery. The elementary grandeur and beauty of +external nature came thus to fill up his mind to the exclusion of human +interests. To such a result his individual constitution powerfully +contributed. The sensuous element was singularly deficient in his +nature. He never seems to have passed through that erotic period out of +which some poets have never emerged. A soaring, speculative imagination, +and an impetuous, resistless self-will, were his distinguishing +characteristics. From first to last he concentrated himself within +himself; brooding over his own fancies and imaginations to the +comparative disregard of the incidents and impressions which suggested +them; and was little susceptible of ideas originating in other minds. We +behold the result. He lives alone in a world of mountains, streams, and +atmospheric phenomena, dealing with moral abstractions, and rarely +encountered by even shadowy spectres of beings outwardly resembling +himself. There is measureless grandeur and power in his moral +speculations. There is intense reality in his pictures of external +nature. But though his human characters are presented with great skill +of metaphysical analysis, they have rarely life or animation. He is +always the prominent, often the exclusive, object of his own song. + +Upon a mind so constituted, with its psychological peculiarities so +cherished and confirmed, the fortunes and fates of others, and the +stirring events of his time, made vivid but very transient impressions. +The conversation and writings of contemporaries trained among books, and +with the faculty of speech more fully developed than that of thought, +seemed colorless and empty to one with whom natural objects and +grandeurs were always present in such overpowering force. Excluded by +his social position from taking an active part in the public events of +the day, and repelled by the emptiness of the then fashionable +literature, he turned to private and humble life as possessing at least +a reality. But he thus withheld himself from the contemplation of those +great mental excitements which only great public struggles can awaken. +He contracted a habit of exaggerating the importance of every-day +incidents and emotions. He accustomed himself to see in men and in +social relations only what he was predetermined to see there, and to +impute to them a value and importance derived mainly from his own +self-will. Even his natural good taste contributed to confirm him in his +error. The two prevailing schools of literature in England, at that +time, were the trashy and mouthing writers who adopted the sounding +language of Johnson and Darwin, unenlivened by the vigorous thought of +either; and the "dead-sea apes" of that inflated, sentimental, +revolutionary style which Diderot had unconsciously originated, and +Kotzebue carried beyond the verge of caricature. The right feeling and +manly thought of Wordsworth were disgusted by these shallow +word-mongers, and he flew to the other extreme. Under the +influences--repulsive and attractive--we have thus attempted to +indicate, he adopted the theory that as much of grandeur and profound +emotion was to be found in mere domestic incidents and feelings, as on +the more conspicuous stage of public life; and that a bald and naked +simplicity of language was the perfection of style. Singularly enough, +he was confirmed in these notions by the very writer of the day whose +own natural genius, more than any of his contemporaries, impelled, him +to riot in great, wild, supernatural conceptions; and to give utterance +to them in gorgeous language. Coleridge was perhaps the only +contemporary from whom Wordsworth ever took an opinion; and that he did +so from him, is mainly attributable to the fact that Coleridge did +little more than reproduce to him his own notions, sometimes rectified +by a subtler logic, but always rendered more attractive by new and +dazzling illustrations. + +Fortunately it is out of the power of the most perverse theory to spoil +the true poet. The poems of Wordsworth must continue to charm and +elevate mankind, in defiance of his crotchets, just as Luther, Henri +Quatre, and other living impersonations of poetry do, despite all quaint +peculiarities of the attire, the customs, or the opinions of their +respective ages, with which they were embued. The spirit of truth and +poetry redeems, ennobles, hallows, every external form in which it may +be lodged. We may "pshaw" and "pooh" at _Harry Gill_ and the _Idiot +Boy_; but the deep and tremulous tenderness of sentiment, the +strong-winged flight of fancy, the excelling and unvarying purity, which +pervade all the writings of Wordsworth, and the exquisite melody of his +lyrical poems, must ever continue to attract and purify the mind. The +very excesses into which his one-sided theory betrayed him, acted as a +useful counter-agent to the prevailing bad taste of his time. + +The _Prelude_ may take a permanent place as one of the most perfect of +Wordsworth's compositions. It has much of the fearless felicity of +youth; and its imagery has the sharp and vivid outline of ideas fresh +from the brain. The subject--the development of his own great +powers--raises him above that willful dallying with trivialities which +repels us in some of his other works. And there is real vitality in the +theme, both from our anxiety to know the course of such a mind, and from +the effect of an absorbing interest in himself excluding that languor +which sometimes seized him in his efforts to impart or attribute +interest to themes possessing little or none in themselves. Its mere +narrative, though often very homely, and dealing in too many words, is +often characterized also by elevated imagination, and always by +eloquence. The bustle of London life, the prosaic uncouthness of its +exterior, the earnest heart that beats beneath it, the details even of +its commonest amusements, from Bartholomew Fair to Sadler's Wells, are +portrayed with simple force and delicate discrimination; and for the +most part skillfully contrasted with the rural life of the poet's native +home. There are some truthful and powerful sketches of French character +and life, in the early revolutionary era. But above all, as might have +been anticipated, Wordsworth's heart revels in the elementary beauty and +grandeur of his mountain theme; while his own simple history is traced +with minute fidelity and is full of unflagging interest.--_London +Examiner._ + +FOOTNOTES: + +[J] _The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind; an Autobiographical Poem_. +By William Wordsworth. London. Moxon. New York, Appleton & Co. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +THE LITERARY PROFESSION--AUTHORS AND PUBLISHERS. + + +It is a common complaint that the publishers make large fortunes and +leave the authors to starve--that they are, in fact, a kind of moral +vampire, sucking the best blood of genius, and destroying others to +support themselves. A great deal of very unhealthy, one-sided cant has +been written upon this subject. Doubtless, there is much to be said on +both sides. That publishers look at a manuscript very much as a +corn-dealer looks at sample of wheat, with an eye to its selling +qualities, is not to be denied. If books are not written only to be +sold, they are printed only to be sold. Publishers must pay their +printers and their paper-merchants; and they can not compel the public +to purchase their printed paper. When benevolent printers shall be found +eager to print gratuitously works of unsalable genius, and benevolent +paper-merchants to supply paper for the same, publishers may afford to +think less of a manuscript as an article of sale--may reject with less +freedom unlikely manuscripts, and haggle less savagely about the price +of likely ones. An obvious common-place this, and said a thousand times +before, but not yet recognized by the world of writers at large. +Publishing is a trade, and, like all other trades, undertaken with the +one object of making money by it. The profits are not ordinarily large; +they are, indeed, very uncertain--so uncertain that a large proportion +of those who embark in the publishing business some time or other find +their way into the Gazette. When a publishing firm is ruined by printing +unsalable books, authors seldom or never have any sympathy with a +member of it. They have, on the other hand, an idea that he is justly +punished for his offenses; and so perhaps he is, but not in the sense +understood by the majority of those who contemplate his downfall as a +retributive dispensation. The fact is, that reckless publishing is more +injurious to the literary profession than any thing in the world beside. +The cautious publisher is the author's best friend. If a house publish +at their own risk a number of works which they can not sell, they must +either go into the Gazette at last, or make large sums of money by works +which they _can_ sell. When a publisher loses money by a work, an injury +is inflicted upon the literary profession. The more money he can make by +publishing, the more he can afford to pay for authorship. It is often +said that the authors of successful works are inadequately rewarded in +proportion to their success; that publishers make their thousands, while +authors only make their hundreds. But it is forgotten that the profits +of the one successful work are often only a set-off to the losses +incurred by the publication of half a dozen unsuccessful ones. If a +publisher purchase a manuscript for L500, and the work prove to be a +"palpable hit" worth L5000, it may seem hard that the publisher does not +share his gains more equitably with the author. With regard to this it +is to be said, in the first place, that he very frequently _does_. There +is hardly a publisher in London, however "grasping" he may be, who has +not, time after time, paid to authors sums of money not "in the bond." +But if the fact were not as we have stated it, we can hardly admit that +publishers are under any kind of obligation to exceed the strict terms +of their contracts. If a publisher gives L500 for a copyright, +expecting to sweep the same amount into his own coffers, but instead of +making that sum, loses it by the speculation, he does not ask the author +to refund--nor does the author offer to do it. The money is in all +probability spent long before the result of the venture is ascertained; +and the author would be greatly surprised and greatly indignant, if it +were hinted to him, even in the most delicate way, that the publisher +having lost money by his book, would be obliged to him if he would make +good a portion of the deficit by sending a check upon his bankers. + +We repeat, then, that a publisher who loses money by one man's books, +must make it by another's, or go into the Gazette. There are publishers +who trade entirely upon this principle, which, indeed, is a kind of +literary gambling. They publish a dozen works, we will suppose, of which +six produce an absolute loss; four just cover-their expenses; and the +other two realize a profit. The publisher, especially if he be his own +printer, may find this answer in the end; it may at least just keep him +out of the Bankruptcy Court, and supply his family with bread. But the +system can not be a really advantageous one either to publishers or +authors. To the latter, indeed, it is destruction. No inconsiderable +portion of the books published every year entail a heavy loss on author +or publisher, or on both--and the amount of this loss may be set down, +in most instances, as so much taken from the gross profits of the +literary profession. If Mr. Bungay lose a hundred pounds by the poems of +the Hon. Percy Popjoy, he has a hundred pounds less to give to Mr. +Arthur Pendennis for his novel. Instead of protesting against the +over-caution of publishers, literary men, if they really knew their own +interests, would protest against their want of caution. Authors have a +direct interest in the prosperity of publishers. The misfortune of +authorship is not that publishers make so much money, but that they make +so little. If Paternoster Row were wealthier than it is, there would be +better cheer in Grub-street. + +It is very true that publishers, like other men, make mistakes; and that +sometimes a really good and salable work is rejected. Many instances of +this might readily be adduced--instances of works, whose value has been +subsequently proved by extensive popularity, having been rejected by one +or more experienced member of the publishing craft. But their judgment +is on the whole remarkably correct. They determine with surprising +accuracy the market value of the greater number of works that are +offered to them. It is not supposed that in the majority of cases, the +publisher himself decides the question upon the strength of his own +judgment. He has his minister, or ministers of state, to decide these +knotty questions for him. A great deal has been written at different +times, about the baneful influence of this middleman, or "reader"--but +we can see no more justice in the complaint than if it were raised +against the system which places a middleman or minister between the +sovereign and his people. To complain of the incapacity of the publisher +himself, and to object to his obtaining the critical services of a more +competent party, were clearly an inconsistency and an injustice. If the +publisher himself be not capable of deciding upon the literary merits or +salable properties of the works laid before him, the best thing that he +can do is to secure the assistance of some one who _is_. Hence the +office of the "reader." It is well known that in some large publishing +houses there is a resident "reader" attached to the establishment; +others are believed to lay the manuscripts offered to them for +publication before some critic of established reputation out-of-doors; +while more than one eminent publisher might be named who has trusted +solely to his own judgment, and rarely found that judgment at fault. In +either of these cases there is no reason to assume the incompetency of +the judge. Besides, as we have said, the question to be solved by the +publisher or reader, is not a purely literary question. It is mainly +indeed a commercial question; and the merits of the work are often +freely acknowledged while the venture is politely declined. + +Much more might be said of the relations between publishers and authors, +but we are compelled to economize our space. The truth, indeed, as +regards the latter, is simply this: It is not so much that authors do +not know how to make money, as that they do not know how to spend it. +The same income that enables a clergyman, a lawyer, a medical +practitioner, a government functionary, or any other member of the +middle classes earning his livelihood by professional labor, to support +himself and his family in comfort and respectability, will seldom keep a +literary man out of debt and difficulty--seldom provide him with a +comfortable well-ordered home, creditable to himself and his profession. +It is ten to one that he lives untidily; that every thing about him is +in confusion, that the amenities of domestic life are absent from his +establishment; that he is altogether in a state of elaborate and costly +disorder, such as we are bound to say is the characteristic of no other +kind of professional life. He seldom has a settled home--a fixed +position. He appears to be constantly on the move. He seldom lives, for +any length of time, in the same place; and is rarely at home when you +call upon him. It would be instructive to obtain a return of the number +of professional writers who retain pews in church, and are to be found +there with their families on Sundays. There is something altogether +fitful, irregular, spasmodic in their way of life. And so it is with +their expenditure. They do not live like other men, and they do not +spend like other men. At one time, you would think, from their lavish +style of living, that they were worth three thousand a year; and at +another, from the privations that they undergo, and the difficulty they +find in meeting small claims upon them, that they were not worth fifty. +There is generally, indeed, large expenditure abroad, and painful +stinting at home. The "res angusta _domi_" is almost always there; but +away from his home, your literary man is often a prince and a +millionaire. Or, if he be a man of domestic habits, if he spends little +on tavern suppers, little on wine, little on cab hire, the probability +is, that he is still impulsive and improvident, still little capable of +self-denial; that he will buy a costly picture when his house-rent is +unpaid; that he will give his wife a guitar when she wants a gown; and +buy his children a rocking-horse when they are without stockings. His +house and family are altogether in an inelegant state of elegant +disorder; and with really a comfortable income, if properly managed, he +is eternally in debt. + +Now all this may appear very strange, but it is not wholly +unaccountable. In the _first_ place, it may be assumed, as we have +already hinted, that no small proportion of those who adopt literature +as a profession have enlisted in the army of authors because they have +lacked the necessary amount of patience and perseverance--the systematic +orderly habits--the industry and the self-denial by which alone it is +possible to attain success in other paths of professional life. With +talent enough to succeed in any, they have not had sufficient method to +succeed in any. They have been trained perhaps for the bar, but wanted +assiduity to master the dry details of the law, and patience to sustain +them throughout a long round of briefless circuits. They have devoted +themselves to the study of physic, and recoiled from or broken down +under examination; or wanted the hopeful sanguine temperament which +enables a man to content himself with small beginnings, and to make his +way by a gradually widening circle to a large round of remunerative +practice. They have been intended for the Church, and drawn back in +dismay at the thought of its restraints and responsibilities; or have +entered the army, and have forsaken with impatience and disgust the slow +road to superior command. + +In any case, it may be assumed that the original profession has been +deserted for that of authorship, mainly because the aspirant has been +wanting in those orderly methodical habits, and that patience and +submissiveness of temperament which secure success in those departments +of professional labor which are only to be overcome by progressive +degrees. In a word, it may be often said of the man of letters, that he +is not wanting in order because he is an author, but he is an author +because he is wanting in order. He is capable of occasional paroxysms of +industry; his spasms of energy are often great and triumphant. Where +results are to be obtained _per saltum_ he is equal to any thing and is +not easily to be frightened back. He has courage enough to carry a +fortress by assault, but he has not system enough to make his way by +regular approaches. He is weary of the work before he has traced out the +first parallel. In this very history of the rise of professional +authorship, we may often see the causes of its fall. The calamities of +authors are often assignable to the very circumstances that made them +authors. Wherefore is it that in many cases authors are disorderly and +improvident? simply because it is their nature to be so--because in any +other path of life they would be equally disorderly and improvident. The +want of system is not to be attributed to their profession. The evil +which we deplore arises in the first instance only from an inability to +master an inherent defect. + +But it must be admitted that there are many predisposing circumstances +in the environments of literary life--that many of the causes which +aggravate, if they do not originate the malady, are incidental to the +profession itself. The absolute requirements of literary labor not +unfrequently compel an irregular distribution of time and with it +irregular social and moral habits. It would be cruel to impute that as a +fault to the literary laborer which is in reality his misfortune. We who +lay our work once every quarter before the public, and they who once a +year, or less frequently, present themselves with their comely octavo +volumes of fiction or biography--history or science--to the reading +world, may dine at home every day with their children, ring the bell at +ten o'clock for family prayers, rise early and retire early every day, +and with but few deviations throughout the year, regularly toil through, +with more or less of the afflatus upon them, their apportioned hours of +literary labor; but a large proportion of the literary practitioners of +the age are connected, in some capacity or other, with the newspaper +press; they are the slaves of time, not its masters; and must bend +themselves to circumstances, however repugnant to the will. Late hours +are unfortunately a condition of press life. The sub-editors, the +summary writers, the reporters; the musical and theatrical critics, and +many of the leading-article writers are compelled to keep late hours. +Their work is not done till past--in many cases till _long_ +past--midnight; and it can not be done at home. It is a very unhappy +condition of literary life that it so often compels night-work. +Night-work of this kind seems to demand a resource to stimulants; and +the exigencies of time and place compel a man to betake himself to the +most convenient tavern. Much that we read in the morning papers, +wondering at the rapidity with which important intelligence or +interesting criticism is laid before us, is written, after midnight, at +some contiguous tavern, or in the close atmosphere of a reporter's room, +which compels a subsequent resort to some house of nocturnal +entertainment. If, weary with work and rejoicing in the thought of its +accomplishment, the literary laborer, in the society perhaps of two or +three of his brethren, betakes himself to a convenient supper house, and +there spends on a single meal, what would keep himself and his family in +comfort throughout the next day, perhaps it is hardly just to judge him +too severely; at all events, it is right that we should regard the +suffering, and weigh the temptation. What to us, in many cases, "seems +vice may be but woe." It is hard to keep to this night-work and to live +an orderly life. If a man from choice, not from necessity, turns night +into day, and day into night (we have known literary men who have +willfully done so), we have very little pity for him. The shattered +nerves--the disorderly home--the neglected business--the accounts unkept +and the bills unpaid, which are the necessary results of nights of +excitement and days of languor, are then to be regarded as the +consequences not of the misfortunes, but the faults of the sufferer. It +is a wretched way of life any how. + +Literary men are sad spendthrifts, not only of their money, but of +themselves. At an age when other men are in the possession of vigorous +faculties of mind and strength of body, they are often used-up, +enfeebled, and only capable of effort under the influence of strong +stimulants. If a man has the distribution of his own time--if his +literary avocations are of that nature that they can be followed at +home--if they demand only continuous effort, there is no reason why the +waste of vital energy should be greater in his case than in that of the +follower of any other learned profession. A man soon discovers to what +extent he can safely and profitably tax his powers. To do well in the +world he must economize himself no less than his money. Rest is often a +good investment. A writer at one time is competent to do twice as much +and twice as well as at another; and if his leisure be well employed, +the few hours of labor will be more productive than the many, at the +time; and the faculty of labor will remain with him twice as long. Rest +and recreation, fresh air and bodily exercise, are essential to an +author, and he will do well never to neglect them. But there are +professional writers who can not regulate their hours of labor, and +whose condition of life it is to toil at irregular times and in an +irregular manner. It is difficult, we know, for them to abstain from +using themselves up prematurely. Repeated paroxysms of fever wear down +the strongest frames; and many a literary man is compelled to live a +life of fever, between excitement and exhaustion of the mind. We would +counsel all public writers to think well of the best means of +economizing themselves--the best means of spending their time off duty. +Rest and recreation, properly applied, will do much to counteract the +destroying influences of spasmodic labor at unseasonable hours, and to +ward off premature decay. But if they apply excitement of one kind to +repair the ravages of excitement of another kind, they must be content +to live a life of nervous irritability, and to grow old before their +time. + + + + +THE BROTHERS CHEERYBLE. + + +William and Charles Grant were the sons of a farmer in Inverness-shire, +whom a sudden flood stript of every thing, even to the very soil which +he tilled. The farmer and his son William made their way southward, +until they arrived in the neighborhood of Bury, in Lancashire, and there +found employment in a print work, in which William served his +apprenticeship. It is said that, when they reached the spot near which +they ultimately settled, and arrived at the crown of the hill near +Walmesley, they were in doubt as to what course was best next to be +pursued. The surrounding country lay disclosed before them, the river +Irwell making its circuitous way through the valley. What was to be done +to induce their decision as to the route they were to take to their +future home? A stick was put up, and where it fell, in that direction +would they betake themselves. And thus their decision was made, and they +betook themselves toward the village of Ramsbotham, not far distant. In +this place, these men pitched their tent, and in the course of many long +years of industry, enterprise, and benevolence, they accumulated nearly +a million sterling of money; earning, meanwhile, the good-will of +thousands, the gratitude of many, and the respect of all who knew them. +They afterward erected, on the top of the hill overlooking Walmesley, a +lofty tower, in commemoration of the fortunate choice they had made, and +not improbably as a kind of public thank-offering for the signal +prosperity they had reaped. Cotton mills, and print works, were built by +them of great extent, employing an immense number of hands; and they +erected churches, founded schools, and gave a new life to the district. +Their well-directed diligence made the valley teem with industry, +activity, health, joy, and opulence; they never forgot the class from +which they themselves had sprung, that of working-men, whose hands had +mainly contributed to their aggrandizement, and, therefore, they spared +no expense in the moral, intellectual, and physical interests of their +work-people. + +A brief anecdote or two will serve to show what manner of men these +Grants were, and that Dickens, in his Brothers Cheeryble, has been +guilty of no exaggeration. Many years ago, a warehouseman published an +exceedingly scurrilous pamphlet against the firm of Grant Brothers, +holding up the elder partner to ridicule as "Billy Button." William was +informed by some "kind friend," of the existence and nature of the +pamphlet, and his observation was, that the man would live to repent of +its publication. "Oh!" said the libeler, when informed of this remark, +"he thinks that some time or other I shall be in his debt, but I will +take good care of that." It happens, however, that the man in business +does not always know who shall be his creditor. It turned out that the +libeler shortly became bankrupt, and the brothers held an acceptance of +his, which had been indorsed by the drawer who had also become bankrupt. +The wantonly libeled men had now an opportunity of revenging themselves +upon the libeler, for he could not obtain his certificate without their +signature, and without that he could not again commence business. But it +seemed to the bankrupt to be a hopeless case to expect that, they would +give their signature--they whom he had so wantonly held up to public +ridicule. The claims of a wife and children, however, at last forced him +to make the application. He presented himself at the counting-house +door, and found that "Billy Button" was in. He entered, and William +Grant, who was alone, rather sternly bid him, "shut the door, sir!" The +libeler trembled before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his +certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. "You +wrote a pamphlet against us once," exclaimed Mr. Grant. The supplicant +expected to see his parchment thrown into the fire; instead of which, +Mr. Grant took a pen, and writing something on the document, handed it +back to the supplicant, who expected to find "rogue, +scoundrel, libeler," instead of which, there was written only the +signature of the firm, completing the bankrupt's certificate. "We make +it a rule," said Mr. Grant, "never to refuse signing the certificate of +an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing +else." The tears started into the poor man's eyes. "Ah!" continued Mr. +Grant, "my saying was true, I said you would live to repent writing +that pamphlet, I did not mean it as a threat, I only meant that some day +you would know us better, and repent that you had tried to injure us; I +see you repent it now." "I do, I do," said the grateful man, "I do, +indeed, bitterly repent it." "Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us +now. How do you get on? What are you going to do?" The poor man stated +that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was +obtained. "But how are you off in the mean time?" and the answer was +that, having given up every farthing to his creditors, he had been +compelled to stint his family of even the common necessaries of life, +that he might be enabled to pay the cost of his certificate. "My dear +fellow, this will never do, your wife and family must not suffer; be +kind enough to take this ten-pound note to your wife from me--there, +there, my dear fellow--nay, don't cry--it will all be well with you yet; +keep up your spirits, set to work like a man, and you will raise your +head among us yet." The overpowered man endeavored in vain to express +his thanks--the swelling in his throat forbade words; he put his hand to +his face, and went out of the door crying like a child. + +In company with a gentleman who had written and lectured much on the +advantages of early religious, moral, and intellectual training, Mr +Grant asked--"Well, how do you go on in establishing schools for +infants?" The reply was, "Very encouragingly indeed; wherever I have +gone, I have succeeded either in inducing good people to establish them, +or in procuring better support to those that are already established. +But I must give over my labors, for, what with printing bills, +coach-fare, and other expenses, every lecture I deliver in any +neighboring town, costs me a sovereign, and I can not afford to ride my +hobby such a rate." He said, "You must not give over your labors; God +has blessed them with success; He has blessed you with talents, and me +with wealth, if you give your time, I ought to give my money. You must +oblige me by taking this twenty-pound note, and spending it in promoting +the education of the poor." The twenty-pound note was taken, and so +spent; and probably a thousand children are now enjoying the benefit of +the impulse that was thus given to a mode of instruction as delightful +as it was useful. + +Mr. Grant was waited on by two gentlemen, who were raising a +subscription for the widow of a respectable, man, who, some years before +his death, had been unfortunate in business. "We lost L200 by him," said +Mr. Grant; "and how do you expect I should subscribe, for his widow?" +"Because," answered one of them, "what you have lost by the husband does +not alter the widow's claim on your benevolence." "Neither it shall," +said he, "here are five pounds, and if you can not make up the sum you +want for her, come to me, and I'll give you more." + +Many other anecdotes, equally characteristic of the kind nature of +William Grant, could be added. For fifteen years did he and his brother +Charles ride into Manchester on market days, seated side-by-side, +looking of all things like a pair of brothers, happy in themselves, and +in each other. William died a few years ago, and was followed to the +grave by many blessings. The firm still survives, and supports its +former character. Long may the merchant princes of England continue to +furnish such beautiful specimens of humanity as the now famous Brothers +Cheeryble!--_Chambers' Edinburgh Journal_. + + + + +[From the North British Review.] + +WRITING FOR PERIODICALS. + + +Lord Lyndhurst once said, at a public dinner, with reference to the +numberless marvels of the press, that it might seem a very easy thing to +write a leading article, but that he would recommend any one with strong +convictions on that point, only to _try_. We confidently appeal to the +experience of all the conductors of the leading journals of Great +Britain, from the quarterly reviews to the daily journals, convinced +that they will all tell the same unvarying tale of the utter +incompetency of thousands of very clever people to write articles, +review books, &c. They will all have the same experiences to relate of +the marvelous failures of men of genius and learning--the crude cumbrous +state in which they have sent their so-called articles for +publication--the labor it has taken to mould their fine thoughts and +valuable erudition into comely shape--the utter impossibility of doing +it at all. As Mr. Carlyle has written of the needle-women of England, it +is the saddest thing of all, that there should be sempstresses few or +none, but "botchers" in such abundance, capable only of "a distracted +puckering and botching--not sewing--only a fallacious hope of it--a fond +imagination of the mind;" so of literary labor is it the saddest thing +of all, that there should be so many botchers in the world, and so few +skilled article-writers--so little article-writing, and so much +"distracted puckering and botching." There may be nothing in this +article-writing, when once we know how to do it, as there is nothing in +balancing a ladder on one's chin, or jumping through a hoop, or +swallowing a sword. All we say is, if people think it easy, let them +try, and abide by the result. The amateur articles of very clever people +are generally what an amateur effort at coat-making would be. It may +seem a very easy thing to make a coat; but very expert +craftsmen--craftsmen that can produce more difficult and elaborate +pieces of workmanship, fail utterly when they come to a coat. The only +reason why they can not make a coat is, that they are not tailors. Now +there are many very able and learned men, who can compass greater +efforts of human intellect than the production of a newspaper article, +but who can not write a newspaper at all, because they we not +newspaper-writers, or criticise a book with decent effect, because they +are not critics. Article-writing comes "by art not chance." The efforts +of chance writers, if they be men of genius and learning, are things to +break one's heart over. + +It is not enough to think and to know. It requires the faculty of +utterance, and a peculiar kind of utterance. Certain things are to be +said in a certain manner; and your amateur article-writer is sure to say +them in any manner but the right. Perhaps of all styles of writing there +is none in which excellency is so rarely attained as that of +newspaper-writing. A readable leading article may not be a work of the +loftiest order, or demand for its execution the highest attributes of +genius; but, whatever it may be, the power of accomplishing it with +success is not shared by "thousands of clever fellows." Thousands of +clever fellows, fortified by Mr. Thackeray's opinion, may think that +they could write the articles which they read in the morning journals; +but let them take pen and paper and _try_. + +We think it only fair that professional authors should have the credit +of being able to do what other people can not. They do not claim to +themselves a monoply of talent. They do not think themselves capable of +conducting a case in a court of law, as cleverly as a queen's counsel, +or of getting a sick man through the typhus fever as skillfully as a +practiced physician. But it is hard that they should not receive credit +for being able to write better articles than either the one or the +other; or, perhaps it is more to the purpose to say, than the briefless +lawyers and patientless medical students who are glad to earn a guinea +by their pens. Men are not born article-writers any more than they are +born doctors of law, or doctors of physic; as the ludicrous failures, +which are every day thrown into the rubbish-baskets of all our newspaper +offices, demonstrate past all contradiction. Incompetency is manifested +in a variety of ways, but an irrepressible tendency to fine writing is +associated with the greater number of them. Give a clever young medical +student a book about aural or dental surgery to review, and the chances +are ten to one that the criticism will be little else than a high-flown +grandiloquent treatise on the wonders of the creation. A regular +"literary hack" will do the thing much better. + +If there be any set of men--we can not call it a _class_, for it is +drawn from all classes--who might be supposed to possess' a certain +capacity for periodical writing, it is the fraternity of members of +Parliament. They are in the habit of selecting given subjects for +consideration--of collecting facts and illustrations--of arranging +arguments--and of expressing themselves after a manner. They are for the +most part men of education, of a practical turn of mind, well acquainted +with passing events, and, in many instances, in possession just of that +kind of available talent which is invaluable to periodical writers. But +very few of them can write an article, either for a newspaper or a +review, without inflicting immense trouble upon the editor. Sometimes +the matter it contains will be worth the pains bestowed upon it; but it +very often happens that it is _not_. It is one thing to make a +speech--another to write an article. But the speech often, no less than +the article, requires editorial supervision. The reporter is the +speaker's editor, and a very efficient one too. In a large number of +cases, the speaker owes more to the reporter than he would willingly +acknowledge. The speech as spoken would often be unreadable, but that +the reporter finishes the unfinished sentences, and supplies meanings +which are rather suggested than expressed. It would be easy to name +members who are capable of writing admirable articles; but many of them +owe their position in the House to some antecedent connection with the +press, or have become, in some manner regularly "connected with the +press;" and have acquired, by long practice, the capacity of +article-writing. But take any half-dozen members indiscriminately out of +the House, and set them down to write articles on any subject which they +may have just heard debated, and see how grotesque will be their +efforts? They may be very "clever fellows," but that they can write +articles as well as men whose profession it is to write them, we take +upon ourselves emphatically to deny. + + + + +ANECDOTE OF LORD CLIVE. + + +Although of a gloomy temperament, and from the earliest age evincing +those characteristics of pride and shyness which rendered him unsocial, +and therefore unpopular in general society, this nobleman, in the +private walks of life, was amiable, and peculiarly disinterested. While +in India, his correspondence with those of his own family, evinced in a +remarkable degree those right and kindly feelings which could hardly +have been expected from Clive, considering the frowardness of early life +and the inflexible sternness of more advanced age. When the foundation +of his fortune was laid. Lord Clive evinced a praiseworthy recollection +of the friends of his early days. He bestowed an annuity of L800 on his +parents, while to other relations and friends he was proportionately +liberal. He was a devotedly attached husband, as his letters to Lady +Clive bear testimony. Her maiden name was Maskelyne, sister to the +eminent mathematician, so called, who long held the post of astronomer +royal. This marriage, which took place in 1752, with the circumstances +attending it, are somewhat singular, and worth recording: Clive, who was +at that period just twenty-seven, had formed a previous friendship with +one of the lady's brothers, like himself a resident at Madras. The +brother and sister, it appears, kept up an affectionate and constant +correspondence--that is, as constant an interchange of epistolary +communication as could be accomplished nearly a century ago, when the +distance between Great Britain and the East appeared so much more +formidable, and the facilities of postal conveyance so comparatively +tardy. The epistles of the lady, through the partiality of her brother, +were frequently shown to Clive, and they bespoke her to be what from all +accounts she was--a woman of very superior understanding, and of much +amiability of character. Clive was charmed with her letters, for in +those days, be it remembered, the fair sex were not so familiarized to +the pen as at the present period. At that time, to indite a really good +epistle as to penmanship and diction, was a formidable task, and what +few ladies, comparatively speaking, could attain to. The accomplished +sister of Dr. Maskelyne was one of the few exceptions, and so strongly +did her epistolary powers attract the interest, and gain for her the +affections of Clive, that it ended by his offering to marry the young +lady, if she could be induced to visit her brother at Madras. The +latter, through whom the suggestion was to be made, hesitated, and +seemed inclined to discourage the proposition; but Clive in this +instance evinced that determination of purpose which was so strong a +feature in his character. He could urge, too, with more confidence a +measure on which so much of his happiness depended--for he was now no +longer the poor neglected boy, sent out to seek his fortune, but one who +had already acquired a fame which promised future greatness. In short, +he would take no refusal; and then was the brother of Miss Maskelyne +forced to own, that highly as his sister was endowed with every mental +qualification, nature had been singularly unfavorable to her--personal +attractions she had none. The future hero of Plassy was not, however, to +be deterred--but he made this compromise: If the lady could be prevailed +upon to visit India, and that neither party, on a personal acquaintance, +felt disposed for a nearer connection, the sum of L5000 was to be +presented to her. With this understanding all scruples were overcome. +Miss Maskelyne went out to India, and immediately after became the wife +of Clive, who, already prejudiced in her favor, is said to have +expressed himself surprised that she should ever have been represented +to him as plain. So much for the influence of mind and manner over mere +personal endowments. With the sad end of this distinguished general +every reader is familiar. His lady survived the event by many years, and +lived to a benevolent and venerable old age. + + + + +[From The Ladies' Companion.] + +THE IMPRISONED LADY. + + +We derive the following curious passage of life one hundred years since, +from the second Series of Mr. Burke's "Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:" + +Lady Cathcart was one of the four daughters of Mr. Malyn, of Southwark +and Battersea, in Surrey. She married four times, but never had any +issue. Her first husband was James Fleet, Esq., of the City of London, +Lord of the Manor of Tewing; her second, Captain Sabine, younger +brother of General Joseph Sabine, of Quinohall; her third, Charles, +eighth Lord Cathcart, of the kingdom of Scotland, Commander-in-Chief of +the Forces in the West Indies; and her fourth,[K] Hugh Macguire, an +officer in the Hungarian service, for whom she bought a +lieutenant-colonel's commission in the British army, and whom she also +survived. She was not encouraged, however, by his treatment, to verify +the resolution, which she inscribed as a posy on her wedding-ring: + + "If I survive, + I will have five." + +Her avowed motives for these several engagements were, for the first, +obedience to her parents; for the second, money; for the third, title; +and for the fourth, submission to the fact that "the devil owed her a +grudge, and would punish her for her sins." In the last union she met +with her match. The Hibernian fortune-hunter wanted only her money. Soon +after their marriage, she discovered her grievous mistake, and became +alarmed lest the colonel, who was desperately in love, not with the +widow, but with the "widow's jointured land," designed to carry her off, +and to get absolute power over all her property; to prepare for the +worst, her ladyship plaited some of her jewels in her hair, and quilted +others in her petticoat. Meanwhile the mistress of the colonel so far +insinuated herself into his wife's confidence that she learned where her +will was deposited; and Macguire getting sight of it, insisted on an +alteration in his favor, under a threat of instant death. Lady +Cathcart's apprehensions of the loss of her personal freedom proved to +be not without foundation; one morning, when she and her husband went +out from Tewing to take an airing, she proposed, after a time, to +return, but he desired to go a little further. The coachman drove on; +she remonstrated, "they should not be back by dinner-time." "Be not the +least uneasy on that account," rejoined Macguire; "we do not dine to-day +at Tewing, but at Chester, whither we are journeying." Vain were all the +lady's efforts and expostulations. Her sudden disappearance excited the +alarm of her friends, and an attorney was sent in pursuit, with a writ +of _habeas corpus_ or _ne exeat regno_. He overtook the travelers at an +inn at Chester, and succeeding in obtaining an interview with the +husband, demanded a sight of Lady Cathcart. The colonel, skilled in +expedients, and aware that his wife's person was unknown, assured the +attorney that he should see her ladyship immediately, and he would find +that she was going to Ireland with her own free consent. Thereupon +Macguire persuaded a woman, whom he had properly tutored, to personate +his wife. The attorney asked the supposed captive, if she accompanied +Colonel Macguire to Ireland of her own good-will? "Perfectly so," said +the woman. Astonished at such an answer, he begged pardon, made a low +bow, and set out again for London. Macguire thought that possibly Mr. +Attorney might recover his senses, find how he had been deceived, and +yet stop his progress; and in order to make all safe, he sent two or +three fellows after him, with directions to plunder him of all he had, +particularly of his papers. They faithfully executed their commission; +and when the colonel had the writ in his possession, he knew that he was +safe. He then took my lady over to Ireland, and kept her there, a +prisoner, locked up in his own house at Tempo, in Fermanagh, for many +years; during which period he was visited by the neighboring gentry, and +it was his regular custom at dinner to send his compliments to Lady +Cathcart, informing her that the company had the honor to drink her +ladyship's health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at +table that she would like to eat? The answer was always--"Lady +Cathcart's compliments, and she has every thing she wants." An instance +of honesty in a poor Irishwoman deserves to be recorded. Lady Cathcart +had some remarkably fine diamonds, which she had concealed from her +husband, and which she was anxious to get out of the house, lest he +should discover them. She had neither servant nor friend to whom she +could intrust them, but she had observed a beggar who used to come to +the house, she spoke to her from the window of the room in which she was +confined; the woman promised to do what she desired, and Lady Cathcart +threw a parcel, containing the jewels, to her. + +The poor woman carried them to the person to whom they were directed; +and several years afterward, when Lady Cathcart recovered her liberty, +she received her diamonds safely. At Colonel Macguire's death, which +occurred in 1764, her ladyship was released. When she was first informed +of the fact, she imagined that the news could not be true, and that it +was told only with an intention of deceiving her. At the time of her +deliverance she had scarcely clothes sufficient to cover her; she wore a +red wig, looked scared, and her understanding seemed stupefied: she said +that she scarcely knew one human creature from another: her imprisonment +had lasted nearly twenty years. The moment she regained her freedom she +hastened to England, to her house at Tewing, but the tenant, a Mr. +Joseph Steele, refusing to render up possession, Lady Cathcart had to +bring an action of ejectment, attended the assizes in person, and gained +the cause. At Tewing she continued to reside for the remainder of her +life. The only subsequent notice we find of her is, that, at the age of +eighty, she took part in the gayeties of the Welwyn Assembly, and danced +with the spirit of a girl. She did not die until 1789, when she was in +her ninety-eighth year. + +In the mansion-house of Tempo, now the property of Sir John Emerson +Tennent, the room is still shown in which Lady Cathcart was imprisoned. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[K] Lady Cathcart's marriage to Macguire took place 18th May, 1745. + + + + +LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. + +FROM OUR FOREIGN FILES, AND UNPUBLISHED BOOKS. + + +Sidney Smith's account of the origin of the _Edinburgh Review_ is well +known. The following statement was written by Lord Jeffrey, at the +request of Robert Chambers, in November, 1846, and is now first made +public: "I can not say exactly where the project of the _Edinburgh +Review_ was first talked of among the projectors. But the first serious +consultations about it--and which led to our application to a +publisher--were held in a small house, where I then lived, in +_Buccleugh-place_ (I forget the number). They were attended by S. Smith, +F. Horner, Dr. Thomas Brown, Lord Murray, and some of them also by Lord +Webb Seymour, Dr. John Thomson, and Thomas Thomson. The first three +numbers were given to the publisher--he taking the risk and defraying +the charges. There was then no individual editor, but as many of us as +could be got to attend used to meet in a dingy room of Willson's +printing office, in Craig's Close, where the proofs of our own articles +were read over and remarked upon, and attempts made also to sit in +judgment on the few manuscripts which were then offered by strangers. +But we had seldom patience to go through with this; and it was soon +found necessary to have a responsible editor, and the office was pressed +upon me. About the same time Constable was told that he must allow ten +guineas a sheet to the contributors, to which he at once assented; and +not long after, the _minimum_ was raised to sixteen guineas, at which it +remained during my reign. Two-thirds of the articles were paid much +higher--averaging, I should think, from twenty to twenty-five guineas a +sheet on the whole number. I had, I might say, an unlimited discretion +in this respect, and must do the publishers the justice to say that they +never made the slightest objection. Indeed, as we all knew that they had +(for a long time at least) a very great profit, they probably felt that +they were at our mercy. Smith was by far the most timid of the +confederacy, and believed that, unless our incognito was strictly +maintained, we could not go on a day; and this was his object for making +us hold our dark divans at Willson's office, to which he insisted on our +repairing singly, and by back approaches or different lanes! He also had +so strong an impression of Brougham's indiscretion and rashness, that he +would not let him be a member of our association, though wished for by +all the rest. He was admitted, however, after the third number, and did +more work for us than any body. Brown took offense at some alterations +Smith had made in a trifling article of his in the second number, and +left us thus early; publishing at the same time in a magazine the fact +of his secession--a step which we all deeply regretted, and thought +scarcely justified by the provocation. Nothing of the kind occurred ever +after." + +Constable soon remunerated the editor with a liberality corresponding to +that with which contributors were treated. From 1803 to 1809 Jeffrey +received 200 guineas for editing each number. For the ensuing three +years, the account-books are missing; but from 1813 to 1826 he is +credited L700 for editing each number. + + * * * * * + +The "_Economist_" closes an article upon the late Sir ROBERT PEEL with +the following just and eloquent summation: + +"Sir Robert was a scholar, and a liberal and discerning patron of the +arts. Though not social, he was a man of literary interests and of +elegant and cultivated taste. Possessed of immense wealth, with every +source and avenue of enjoyment at his command, it is no slight merit in +him that he preferred to such refined enjoyment the laborious service of +his country. He was no holiday or _dillettanti_ statesman. His industry +was prodigious, and he seemed actually to love work. His toil in the +memorable six months of 1835 was something absolutely prodigious; in +1842 and 1843 scarcely less so. His work was always done in a masterly +and business-like style, which testified to the conscientious diligence +he had bestowed upon it. His measures rarely had to be altered or +modified in their passage through the House. In manners he was always +decorous--never over-bearing or insulting, and if ever led by the heat +of contest into any harsh or unbecoming expression, was always prompt to +apologize or retract. By his unblemished private character, by his +unrivaled administrative ability, by his vast public services, his +unvarying moderation, he had impressed not only England but the world at +large with a respect and confidence such as few attain. After many +fluctuations of repute, he had at length reached an eminence on which he +stood--independent of office, independent of party--one of the +acknowledged potentates of Europe; face to face, in the evening of life, +with his work and his reward--his work, to aid the progress of those +principles on which, after much toil, many sacrifices, and long groping +toward the light, he had at length laid a firm grasp; his guerdon, to +watch their triumph. Nobler occupation man could not aspire to; sublimer +power no ambition need desire; greater earthly reward, God, out of all +the riches of his boundless treasury has not to bestow." + +Numerous projects for monuments to the deceased statesman have been +broached. In reference to these, and to the poverty of thought, and +waste of means, which in the present age builds for all time with +materials so perishable as statues, a correspondent of the _Athenaeum_ +suggests, as a more intelligent memorial, the foundation of a national +university for the education of the sons of the middle classes. Ours, he +says, are not the days for copying the forms of ancient Rome as +interpreters of feelings and inspirations which the Romans never knew. +While the statues which they reared are dispersed, and the columns they +erected are crumbling to decay, their thoughts, as embodied in their +literature, are with us yet, testifying forever of the great spirits +which perished from among them, but left, in this sure and abiding form, +the legacy of their minds. + + * * * * * + +The effect upon civilization of the Ownership of the Land being in the +hands of a few, or of the many, has been earnestly discussed by writers +on political and social economy. Two books have recently been published +in England, which have an important bearing upon this subject. One is by +SAMUEL LAING, Esq. the well known traveler, and the other by JOSEPH KAY, +Esq. of Cambridge. Both these writers testify that in the continental +countries which they have examined--more especially in Germany, France, +Holland, Belgium and Switzerland--they have found a state of society +which does fulfill in a very eminent degree all the conditions of a most +advanced civilization. They have found in those countries education, +wealth, comfort, and self-respect; and they have found that the whole +body of the people in those countries participate in the enjoyment of +these great blessings to an extent which very far exceeds the +participation in them of the great mass of the population of England. +These two travelers perfectly agree in the declaration that during the +last-thirty or forty years the inequality of social condition among +men--the deterioration toward two great classes of very rich and very +poor--has made very little progress in the continental states with which +they are familiar. They affirm that a class of absolute paupers in any +degree formidable from its numbers has yet to be created in those +states. They represent in the most emphatic language the immense +superiority in education, manners, conduct, and the supply of the +ordinary wants of a civilized being, of the German, Swiss, Dutch, +Belgian and French peasantry over the peasantry and poorer classes not +only of Ireland, but also of England and Scotland. This is the general +and the most decided result with reference to the vital question of the +condition and prospects of the peasantry and poorer classes, neither Mr. +Laing nor Mr. Kay have any doubt whatever that the advantage rests in +the most marked manner with the continental states which they have +examined over Great Britain. According to Mr. Laing and Mr. Kay, the +cause of this most important difference is--_the distribution of the +ownership of land_. On the continent, the people _own_ and _cultivate_ +the land. In the British islands the land is held in large masses by a +few persons; the class practically employed in agriculture are either +_tenants_ or _laborers_, who do not act under the stimulus of a personal +interest in the soil they cultivate. + + * * * * * + +A self-taught artist named Carter has recently died at Coggshall, Essex, +where he had for many years resided. He was originally a farm laborer, +and by accident lost the power of every part of his body but the head +and neck. By the force of perseverance and an active mind, however, he +acquired the power of drawing and painting, by holding the pencil +between his lips and teeth, when placed there by the kind offices of an +affectionate sister. In this manner he had not only whiled away the +greater part of fourteen years of almost utter physical helplessness, +but has actually produced works which have met with high commendation. +His groups and compositions are said to have been "most delicately +worked and highly finished." The poor fellow had contemplated the +preparation of some grand work for the International Exhibition, but the +little of physical life remaining in him was lately extinguished by a +new accident. + + * * * * * + +CONVERSATION OF LITERARY MEN.--Literary men talk less than they did. +They seldom "lay out" much for conversation. The conversational, like +the epistolary age, is past; and we have come upon the age of periodical +literature. People neither put their best thoughts and their available +knowledge into their letters, nor keep them for evening conversation. +The literary men of 1850 have a keener eye to the value of their +stock-in-trade, and keep it well garnered up, for conversion, as +opportunity offers, into the current coin of the realm. There is some +periodical vehicle, nowadays, for the reception of every possible kind +of literary ware. The literary man converses now through the medium of +the Press, and turns every thing into copyright at once. He can not +afford to drop his ideas by the way-side; he must keep them to himself, +until the printing-press has made them inalienably his own. If a happy +historical or literary illustration occurs to him, it will do for a +review article; if some un-hackneyed view of a great political question +presents itself to him, it may be worked into his next leader; if some +trifling adventure has occurred to him, or he has picked up a novel +anecdote in the course of his travels, it may be reproduced in a page of +magazine matter, or a column of a cheap weekly serial. Even puns are not +to be distributed gratis. There is a property in a _double-entente_, +which its parent will not willingly forego. The smallest jokelet is a +marketable commodity. The dinner-table is sacrificed to _Punch_. There +is too much competition in these days, too many hungry candidates for +the crumbs that fall from the thinker's table, not to make him chary of +his offerings. In these days, every scrap of knowledge--every happy +thought--every felicitous turn of expression, is of some value to a +literary man; the forms of periodical literature are so many and so +varied. He can seldom afford to give any thing away; and there is no +reason why he should. It is not so easy a thing to turn one's ideas into +bread, that a literary man need be at no pains to preserve his property +in them. We do not find that artists give away their sketches, or that +professional singers perform promiscuously at private parties. Perhaps, +in these days of much publishing, professional authors are wise in +keeping the best of themselves for their books and articles. We have +known professional writers talk criticism; but we have generally found +it to be the very reverse of what they have published. + + * * * * * + +REWARDS OF LITERATURE.--Literature has been treated with much +ingratitude, even by those who owe most to it. If we do not quite say +with Goldsmith, that it supports many dull fellows in opulence, we may +assert, with undeniable truth, that it supports, or ought to support, +many clever ones in comfort and respectability. If it does not it is +less the fault of the profession than the professors themselves. There +are many men now in London, Edinburgh, and other parts of the country, +earning from L1000 to L300 per annum by their literary labors, and some, +with very little effort, earning considerably more. It is no part of our +plan in the present article to mix up modern instances with our wise +saws, else might we easily name writers who, for contributions to the +periodical press, for serial installments of popular tales, and other +literary commodities, demanding no very laborious efforts of +intellectual industry, have received from flourishing newspaper +proprietors and speculative booksellers, sums of money which it would be +difficult to earn with equal facility in any other learned profession. +An appointment on the editorial staff of a leading daily paper is in +itself a small fortune to a man. The excellence of the articles is, for +the most part, in proportion to the sum paid for them; and a successful +morning journal will generally find it good policy to pay its +contributors in such a manner as to secure the entire produce of their +minds, or, at all events, to get the best fruits that they are capable +of yielding. If a man can earn a comfortable independence by writing +three or four leading articles a week, there is no need that he should +have his pen ever in his hand, that he should be continually toiling at +other and less profitable work. But if he is to keep himself ever fresh +and ever vigorous for one master he must be paid for it. There are +instances of public writers who had shown evident signs of exhaustion +when employed on one paper--who had appeared, indeed, to have written +themselves out so thoroughly, that the proprietors were fain to dispense +with their future services--transferring those services to another +paper, under more encouraging circumstances of renumeration, and, as +though endued with new life, striking out articles fresh, vigorous, and +brilliant. They gave themselves to the one paper; they had only given a +part of themselves to the other. + + * * * * * + +SCHAMYL, the Prophet of the Caucasus, through whose inspiriting +leadership the Caucasians have maintained a successful struggle against +the gigantic power of Russia for many years, is described by a recent +writer as a man of middle stature; he has light hair, gray eyes, shaded +by bushy and well-arched eyebrows; a nose finely moulded, and a small +mouth. His features are distinguished from those of his race by a +peculiar fairness of complexion and delicacy of skin: the elegant form +of his hands and feet is not less remarkable. The apparent stiffness of +his arms, when he walks, is a sign of his stern and impenetrable +character His address is thoroughly noble and dignified. Of himself he +is completely master; and he exerts a tacit supremacy over all who +approach him. An immovable, stony calmness, which never forsakes him, +even in moments of the utmost danger, broods over his countenance. He +passes a sentence of death with the same composure with which he +distributes "the sabre of honor" to his bravest Murids, after a bloody +encounter. With traitors or criminals whom he has resolved to destroy he +will converse without betraying the least sign of anger or vengeance. He +regards himself as a mere instrument in the hands of a higher Being; and +holds, according to the Sufi doctrine, that all his thoughts and +determinations are immediate inspirations from God. The flow of his +speech is as animating and irresistible as his outward appearance is +awful and commanding. "He shoots flames from his eyes and scatters +flowers from his lips," said Bersek Bey, who sheltered him for some days +after the fall of Achulgo, when Schamyl dwelt for some time among the +princes of the Djighetes and Ubiches, for the purpose of inciting the +tribes on the Black Sea to rise against the Russians. Schamyl is now +fifty years old, but still full of vigor and strength; it is however +said, that he has for some years past suffered from an obstinate disease +of the eyes, which is constantly growing worse. He fills the intervals +of leisure which his public charges allow him, in reading the Koran, +fasting, and prayer. Of late years he has but seldom, and then only on +critical occasions, taken a personal share in warlike encounters. In +spite of his almost supernatural activity, Schamyl is excessively severe +and temperate in his habits. A few hours of sleep are enough for him; at +times he will watch for the whole night, without showing the least trace +of fatigue on the following day. He eats little, and water is his only +beverage. According to Mohammedan custom, he keeps several wives. In +1844 he had _three_, of which his favorite (Pearl of the Harem, as she +was called) was an Armenian, of exquisite beauty. + + * * * * * + +A Frankfort journal states that the colossal statue of Bavaria, by +Schwanthaler, which is to be placed on the hill of Seudling, surpasses +in its gigantic proportions all the works of the moderns. It will have +to be removed in pieces from the foundry where it is cast to its place +of destination, and each piece will require sixteen horses to draw it. +The great toes are each half a metre in length. In the head two persons +could dance a polka very conveniently, while the nose might lodge the +musician. The thickness of the robe, which forms a rich drapery +descending to the ankles, is about six inches, and its circumference at +the bottom about two hundred metres. The Crown of Victory which the +figure holds in her hands weighs one hundred quintals (a quintal is a +hundred weight). + + * * * * * + +WORDSWORTH'S prose writings are not numerous; and with the exception of +the well-known prefaces to his minor poems, they are little known. A +paper or two in Coleridge's _Friend_, and a political tract occasioned +by the convention of Cintra, form important and valuable contributions +to the prose literature of the country. We would especially call +attention to the introductory part of the third volume of the _Friend_, +as containing a very beautiful development of Mr. Wordsworth's opinions +on the moral worth and intellectual character of the age in which it was +his destiny to live. The political tract is very scarce; but we may +safely affirm, that it contains some of the finest writing in the +English language. Many of its passages can be paralleled only by the +majestic periods of Milton's prose, or perhaps by the vehement and +impassioned eloquence of Demosthenes. Its tone is one of sustained +elevation, and in sententious moral and political wisdom it will bear a +comparison with the greatest productions of Burke. We trust that this +pamphlet will be republished. A collection and separate publication of +all Mr. Wordsworth's prose writings would form a valuable addition to +English literature. + +Mr. Wordsworth's conversation was eminently rich, various, and +instructive. Attached to his mountain home, and loving solitude as the +nurse of his genius, he was no recluse, but keenly enjoyed the pleasures +of social intercourse. He had seen much of the world, and lived on terms +of intimate friendship with some of the most illustrious characters of +his day. His reading was extensive, but select; indeed, his mind could +assimilate only the greater productions of intellect. To criticism he +was habitually indifferent; and when solicited for his opinions, he was +generally as reserved in his praise as he was gentle in his censures. +For some of his contemporaries he avowed the highest respect; but +Coleridge was the object of his deepest affection as a friend, and of +his veneration as a philosopher. Of the men who acted important parts in +the political drama of the last century, the homage of his highest +admiration was given to Burke, who, after Shakspeare and Bacon, he +thought the greatest being that Nature had ever created in the human +form. + +The last few years of Mr. Wordsworth's life were saddened by +affliction. They who were admitted to the privilege of occasional +intercourse with the illustrious poet in his later days will long dwell +with deep and affectionate interest upon his earnest conversation while +he wandered through the shaded walks of the grounds which he loved so +well, and ever and anon paused to look down upon the gleaming lake as +its silver radiance was reflected through the trees which embosomed his +mountain home. Long will the accents of that "old man eloquent" linger +in their recollection, and their minds retain the impression of that +pensive and benevolent countenance. The generation of those who have +gazed upon his features will pass away and be forgotten. The marble, +like the features which it enshrines, will crumble into dust. _Ut vultus +hominum ita simulacra vultus imbecilla ac mortalia sunt, forma mentis +aeterna_; the attributes of his mighty intellect are stamped for ever +upon his works which will be transmitted to future ages as a portion of +their most precious inheritance. + + * * * * * + +No man is more enshrined in the heart of the French people than the poet +BERANGER. A few weeks since he went one evening with one of his nephews +to the _Clos des Lilas_, a garden in the students' quarter devoted to +dancing in the open air, intending to look for a few minutes upon a +scene he had not visited since his youth, and then withdraw. But he +found it impossible to remain unknown and unobserved. The announcement +of his presence ran through the garden in a moment. The dances stopped, +the music ceased, and the crowd thronged toward the point where the +still genial and lovely old man was standing. At once there rose from +all lips the cry of _Vive Beranger!_ which was quickly followed by that +of _Vive la Republique_. The poet, whose diffidence is excessive, could +not answer a word, but only smiled and blushed his thanks at this +enthusiastic reception. The acclamations continuing, an agent of the +police invited him to withdraw, lest his presence might occasion +disorder. The illustrious song-writer at once obeyed; by a singular +coincidence the door through which he went out opened upon the place +where Marshal Ney was shot. + + * * * * * + +THE PARIS ACADEMY OF INSCRIPTIONS AND BELLES LETTRES is constantly +sending forth the most valuable contributions, to the history of the +middle ages especially. It is now completing the publication of the +sixth volume of the Charters, Diplomas, and other documents relating to +French history. This volume, which was prepared by M. Pardessus, +includes the period from the beginning of 1220 to the end of 1270, and +comprehends the reign of St. Louis. The seventh volume, coming down some +fifty years later, is also nearly ready for the printer. Its editor is +M. Laboulaye. The first volume of the Oriental Historians of the +Crusaders, translated into French, is now going through the press, and +the second is in course of preparation. The greater part of the first +volume of the Greek Historians of the same chivalrous wars is also +printed, and the work is going rapidly forward. The Academy is also +preparing a collection of Occidental History on the same subject. When +these three collections are published, all the documents of any value +relating to the Crusades will be easily accessible, whether for the use +of the historian or the romancer. The Academy is also now engaged in +getting out the twenty-first volume of the History of the Gauls and of +France, and the nineteenth of the Literary History of France, which +brings the annals of French letters down to the thirteenth century. It +is also publishing the sixteenth volume of its own Memoirs, which +contains the history of the Academy for the last four years, and the +work of Freret on Geography, besides several other works of less +interest. From all this some idea may be formed of the labors and +usefulness of the institution. + + * * * * * + +In speaking of the advantage of education to Mechanics, Robert Hall says +that it has a tendency to exalt the character, and, in some measure, to +correct and subdue the taste for gross sensuality. It enables the +possessor to beguile his leisure moments (and every man has such) in an +innocent, at least, if not in a useful manner. The poor man who can +read, and who possesses a taste for reading, can find entertainment at +home, without being tempted to repair to the public-house for that +purpose. His mind can find employment where his body is at rest. There +is in the mind of such a man an intellectual spring, urging him to the +pursuit of mental good; and if the minds of his family are also a little +cultivated, conversation becomes the more interesting, and the sphere of +domestic enjoyment enlarged. The calm satisfaction which books afford +puts him into a disposition to relish more exquisitely the tranquil +delight of conjugal and parental affection; and as he will be more +respectable in the eyes of his family than he who can teach them +nothing, he will be naturally induced to cultivate whatever may +preserve, and to shun whatever would impair that respect. + + * * * * * + +For producing steel pens the best Dennemora--Swedish iron--or hoop iron +is selected. It is worked into sheets or slips about three feet long, +and four or five inches broad, the thickness varying with the desired +stiffness and flexibility of the pen for which it is intended. By a +stamping press pieces of the required size are cut out. The point +intended for the nib is introduced into a gauged hole, and by a machine +pressed into a semi-cylindrical shape. In the same machine it is pierced +with the required slit or slits. This being effected, the pens are +cleaned by mutual attrition in tin cylinders, and tempered, as in the +case of the steel plate, by being brought to the required color by heat. +Some idea of the extent of this manufacture will be formed from the +statement, that nearly 150 tons of steel are employed annually for this +purpose, producing upward of 250,000,000 pens. + + * * * * * + +Philosophers abroad are working diligently at many interesting branches +of physical science: magneto and muscular electricity, dia-magnetism, +vegetable and animal physiology: Matteucci in Italy, Bois-Reymond, +Weber, Reichenbach, and Dove in Germany. The two maps of isothermal +lines for every month in the year, lately published by the +last-mentioned _savant_, are remarkable and most valuable proofs of +scientific insight and research. If they are to be depended on, there is +but one pole of cold, situate in Northern America; that supposed to +exist in the Asiatic continent disappears when the monthly means are +taken. These maps will be highly useful to the meteorologist, and indeed +to students of natural philosophy generally, and will suggest other and +more-extended results. + + * * * * * + +A communication from M. Tremaux, an Abyssinian traveler, has been +presented to the French Academy by M. Geoffroy St. Hilaire: it gives an +account of the sudden difference which occurs in the races of men and +animals near Fa Zoglo, in the vicinity of the Blue Nile. The shores of +this stream are inhabited by a race of Caucasian origin, whose sheep +have woolly coats; but at a few miles' distance, in the mountains of +Zaby and Akaro, negro tribes are found whose sheep are hairy. According +to M. Trevaux, 'the differences and changes are due to two causes: the +one, that vegetable nature, having changed in aspect and production, +attracts and supports certain species, while others no longer appear, or +the individuals are fewer. As for the second cause, it is the more +surprising, since it produces opposite effects on the same point: where +man has no longer silken, but woolly hair, there the sheep ceases to be +covered with wool.' M. St. Hilaire remarked on these facts, that the +degree of domestication of animals is proportional to the degree of +civilization of those who possess them. Among savage people dogs are +nearly all alike, and not far removed from the wolf or jackal; while +among civilized races there is an almost endless variety--the greater +part far removed from the primitive type. Are we to infer from this that +negroes will cease to be negroes by dint of civilization--that wool will +give place to hair, and _vice versa_? If so, a wide field is opened for +experiment and observation. + + + + +MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS. + + +The action of Congress during the past month has been of more than usual +interest. The Senate has finally disposed of the Compromise Bill, which +has absorbed its discussions for nearly the whole of the session, and +has taken definite action upon all the subjects which that bill +embraced. On the 30th of July, the bill being before the Senate, a +resolution offered by Senator BRADBURY, of Maine, was pending, +authorizing the appointment of Commissioners by the United States and +Texas, for the adjustment of the boundary line between Texas and New +Mexico. To this Mr. DAWSON, of Ga., offered an amendment, providing that +until the boundary should have been agreed to, no territorial government +should go into operation east of the Rio Grande, nor should any state +government be established to include that territory. This amendment was +adopted, ayes 30, noes 28. Mr. BRADBURY'S resolution, thus amended, was +then adopted by the same vote. On the 31st the bill came up for final +action. Mr. NORRIS moved to strike out the clause restricting the +Legislature of New Mexico from establishing or prohibiting slavery. This +was carried, 32 to 20. Mr. PEARCE, of Maryland, then moved to strike out +all relating to New Mexico, which was carried by a vote of 33 to 22. He +then moved to re-insert it, omitting the amendment of Messrs. Bradbury +and Dawson--his object being by this roundabout process (which was the +only way in which it could be reached), to reverse the vote adopting +that amendment. His motion was very warmly and strongly resisted, and +various amendments offered to it were voted down. The motion itself was +then put and lost, ayes 25, nays 28. This left nothing in the bill +except the provision for admitting California and that establishing a +territorial government for Utah. Mr. WALKER, of Wisconsin, then moved to +strike out all except that part relating to California. This was lost, +ayes 22, nays 33. Mr. ATCHISON, of Missouri, moved to strike out all +relating to California. This motion was first lost by a tie vote, but a +reconsideration was moved by Mr. WINTHROP and carried, and then the +motion prevailed, ayes 34, nays 25. The Bill thus contained nothing but +the sections relating to Utah, and in that shape it was passed, ayes 32, +nays 18. Thus the Compromise bill, reported early in the session, and +earnestly debated from that time forward, was decisively rejected. On +the very next day, the 1st of August, the bill for the admission of +California was made the special order by a vote of 34 to 23. Mr. FOOTE, +of Miss., offered an amendment that California should not exercise her +jurisdiction over territory south of 35 deg. 30'. Mr. CLAY in an earnest and +eloquent speech, after regretting the fate of the Compromise Bill, said +he wished it to be distinctly understood that if any state or states, or +any portion of the people, should array themselves in arms against the +Union, he was for testing the strength of the government, to ascertain +whether it had the ability to maintain itself. He avowed the most +unwavering attachment to the Union, and declared his purpose to raise +both his voice and his arm in support of the Union and the Constitution. +He had been in favor of passing the several measures together: he was +now in favor of passing them separately: but whether passed or not, he +was in favor of putting down any and all resistance to the federal +authority. After some debate, Mr. FOOTE'S amendment was negatived, yeas +23, nays 33. On the 6th of August Mr. TURNEY, of Tennessee, offered an +amendment, dividing California into two territories, which may hereafter +form state constitutions. This was rejected, ayes 29, nays 32. Mr. YULEE +offered an amendment, establishing a provisional government, which he +advocated in a speech extending through three days: on the 10th it was +rejected by a vote of 12 to 35 An amendment offered by Mr. Foote, +erecting the part of California south of 36 deg. 30' into a distinct +territory, was rejected by a vote of 13 to 30. On the 12th the bill was +ordered to be engrossed, yeas 33, nays 19; and on the 13th, after a +brief but warm debate, in the course of which Senators BERRIEN and +CLEMENS denounced the bill as fraught with mischief and peril to the +Union, and Mr. HOUSTON ridiculed the apprehensions thus expressed, the +bill was finally passed, yeas 34, nays 18, as follows: + +YEAS--Messrs. Baldwin, Bell, Benton, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Chase, +Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dickinson, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Dodge, +of Iowa, Douglas, Ewing, Felch, Green, Hale, Hamlin, Houston, Jones, +Miller, Norris, Phelps, Seward, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, +Underwood, Upham, Wales, Walker, Whitcomb, and Winthrop--34. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Barnwell, Berrien, Butler, Clemens, Davis, of +Mississippi, Dawson, Foote, Hunter, King, Mason, Morton, Pratt, Rusk, +Sebastian, Soule, Turney, and Yulee--18. + +The next day a Protest against the admission of California, signed by +Senators Mason and Hunter, of Virginia, Butler and Barnwell, of South +Carolina, Turney, of Tennessee, Soule, of Louisiana, Davis, of +Mississippi, Atchison, of Missouri, and Morton and Yulee, of Florida, +was presented, and a request made that it might be entered on the +Journal. This, however, the Senate refused. Thus was completed the +action of the Senate on the admission of California. + +On the 5th of August Mr. PEARCE, of Md., introduced a bill, making +proposals to Texas for the settlement of her western and northern +boundaries. It proposes that the boundary on the north shall commence at +the point where the meridian of 100 deg. west longitude intersects the +parallel of 36 deg. 30' north latitude, and shall run due west to the +meridian of 103 deg. west longitude: thence it shall run due south to the +32d degree north latitude, thence on the said parallel to the Rio del +Norte, and thence with the channel of said river to the Gulf of Mexico. +For relinquishing all claims to the United States government for +territory beyond the line thus defined, the bill proposes to pay Texas +ten millions of dollars. The bill was debated for several successive +days, and on the 9th was ordered to be engrossed, yeas 27, nays 24, and +received its final passage on the same day, yeas 30, nays 20, as +follows: + +YEAS.--Messrs. Badger, Bell, Berrien, Bradbury, Bright, Cass, Clarke, +Clemens, Cooper, Davis, of Massachusetts, Dawson, Dickinson, Dodge, of +Iowa, Douglas, Felch, Foote, Greene, Houston, King, Norris, Pearce, +Phelps, Rusk, Shields, Smith, Spruance, Sturgeon, Wales, Whitcomb, and +Winthrop--30. + +NAYS.--Messrs. Atchison, Baldwin, Barnwell, Benton, Butler, Chase, +Davis, of Mississippi, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Ewing, Hale, Hunter, Mason, +Morton, Seward, Soule, Turney, Underwood, Upham, Walker, and Yulee--20. + +Thus was completed the action of the Senate on the second of the great +questions which have enlisted so much of public attention during the +past few months.--On the 14th the bill providing a territorial +government for New Mexico was taken up. Mr. CHASE moved to amend it by +inserting a clause prohibiting the existence of slavery within its +limits, which was rejected, ayes 20, nays 25. The bill was then ordered +to be engrossed for a third reading, which it had, and was finally +passed. + +In the House of Representatives, no business of importance has been +transacted. The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation Bill has been +discussed, and efforts have been made to change the existing rules of +the House so as to facilitate public business; but nothing important has +been done.--On the 6th of August President FILLMORE sent to the House a +Message, transmitting a letter he had received from Governor BELL, of +Texas, announcing that he had sent a commissioner to extend the laws of +Texas over that part of New Mexico which she claims, and that he had +been resisted by the inhabitants and the United States military +authorities. The President says in his Message that he deems it his duty +to execute the laws of the United States, and that Congress has given +him full power to put down any resistance that may be organized against +them. Texas as a state has no authority or power beyond her own limits; +and if she attempts to prevent the execution of any law of the United +States, in any state or territory beyond her jurisdiction, the President +is bound by his oath to resist such attempts by all the power which the +Constitution has placed at his command. The question is then considered +whether there is any law in New Mexico, resistance to which would call +for the interposition of the Executive authority. The President regards +New Mexico as a territory of the United States, with the same boundaries +which it had before the war with Mexico, and while in possession of that +country. By the treaty of peace the boundary line between the two +countries is defined, and perfect security and protection in the free +enjoyment of their liberty and property, and in the free exercise of +their religion, is guaranteed to those Mexicans who may choose to reside +on the American side of that line. This treaty is part of the law of the +land, and as such must be maintained until superseded or displaced by +other legal provisions; and if it be obstructed, the case is regarded as +one which comes within the provisions of law, and which obliges the +President to enforce these provisions. "Neither the Constitution or the +laws," says Mr. FILLMORE, "nor my duty or my oath of office, leave me +any alternative, or any choice, in my mode of action." The Executive has +no power or authority to determine the true line of boundary, but it is +his duty, in maintaining the laws, to have regard to the actual state of +things as it existed at the date of the treaty--all must be now regarded +as New Mexico which was possessed and occupied as New Mexico by citizens +of Mexico at the date of the treaty, until a definite line of boundary +shall be established by competent authority. Having thus indicated the +course which he should pursue, the President expresses his earnest +desire that the question of boundary should be settled by Congress, with +the assent of the government of Texas. He deprecates delay, and objects +to the appointment of commissioners. He expresses the opinion that an +indemnity may very properly be offered to Texas, and says that no event +would be hailed with more satisfaction by the people than the amicable +adjustment of questions of difficulty which have now for a long time +agitated the country, and occupied, to the exclusion of other subjects, +the time and attention of Congress. Accompanying the Message was a +letter from Mr. WEBSTER, Secretary of State, in reply to that of +Governor BELL. Mr. WEBSTER vindicates the action of the military +authorities in New Mexico, saying that they had been instructed to aid +and advance any attempt of the inhabitants to form a state government, +and that in all they did they acted as agents of the inhabitants rather +than officers of the government. An outline is given of the history of +the acquisition of New Mexico, and it is clearly shown that every thing +thus far has been done in strict accordance with the stipulations of the +treaty, and with the position and principles of the late President Polk. +The military government existed in New Mexico as a matter of necessity, +and must remain until superseded by some other form. The President +approves entirely of the measures taken by Colonel Munroe, while he +takes no part, and expresses no opinion touching the boundary claimed by +Texas. These documents were ordered to be printed and were referred to +committees. + +Mr. PEARCE of Maryland, and Mr. BATES of Missouri, who were invited by +President FILLMORE to become members of his cabinet, both declined. Hon. +T. M. T. MCKENNAN of Pennsylvania, has been appointed Secretary of the +Interior, and Hon. CHAS. M. CONRAD of Louisiana, Secretary of War, in +their places. Both have accepted.--It is stated that Hon. D. D. BARNARD +of New-York, has been nominated as Minister to Prussia. Mr. B. is one of +the ablest writers and most accomplished scholars in the country.--A +regular line of stages has just been established to run monthly between +Independence, Missouri, and Santa-Fe, in New Mexico. Each coach is to +carry eight persons, and to be made water tight, so as to be used as a +boat in crossing streams. This will prove to be an important step toward +the settlement of the great western region of our Union.--An active +canvass has been going on in Virginia for the election of members of a +convention to revise the state constitution. The questions at issue grow +mainly out of a contest between the eastern and western sections of the +state for supremacy. The west has been gaining upon the east in +population very rapidly during the last fifteen or twenty years. The +east claims a representation based upon property, by which it hopes to +maintain its supremacy, while the west insists that population alone +should be made the basis of political representation. The contest is +carried on with a great deal of warmth and earnestness.--Elections of +considerable interest have taken place during the month in several of +the states. In Missouri, where five members of Congress were chosen, +three of them, Messrs. PORTER, DARBY, and MILLER, are known to be Whigs. +In the other two districts the result has not been ascertained. The +change which this result indicates, is attributed to the course taken by +Senator BENTON, in refusing to obey the instructions of the state +legislature, and in denouncing them as connected with the scheme of +disunion, which he charged upon certain southern politicians. This led +to a division in his own party, which enabled the Whigs to elect a part, +at least, of the Congressional delegation.--In North Carolina an +election for governor, has resulted in the choice of Col. REID, +Democrat, by 3000 majority. In the state senate the Democrats have four, +and in the house they have 10 majority. This enables them to choose a +democratic U.S. Senator in place of Mr. MANGUM, the present Whig +incumbent.--In Indiana the election has given the Democrats control of +the legislature and of the state convention for the revision of the +constitution.--The authorities of Buffalo some weeks since, hearing that +Lord Elgin, Governor of Canada, was about to visit their city, prepared +for him a public reception. Circumstances prevented the fulfillment of +the purpose, but the courtesy of the people of Buffalo was communicated +by Lord Elgin to his government at home, and acknowledged by Earl Grey +in a letter to our Department of State. In further acknowledgement the +Legislature of Canada, and the Corporation of Toronto, invited the +authorities of Buffalo to pay them a visit, which was done on the 8th of +August, when they were welcomed by a very brilliant reception. This +interchange of courtesies is peculiarly creditable to both parties, and +highly gratifying to both countries.--The Legislature of Wisconsin has +enacted a law making it a penal offence for any owner or lessee of land +to allow the Canada thistle to go to seed upon it.--The Board of +Visitors appointed by the Government to attend the annual examination at +West Point, have made their report, giving a detailed account of their +observations, and concluding by expressing the opinion, that the +Military Academy is one of the most useful and highly creditable in our +country; that it has been mainly instrumental in forming the high +character which our army now sustains before the civilized world, and +that it is entitled to the confidence and fostering care of the +Government.--Hon. HENRY CLAY has been spending the August weeks at +Newport, R.I. He has received essential benefit from the sea-bathing and +the relief from public care which his temporary residence there +affords.--Commodore JACOB JONES, of the United States Navy, died at his +residence in Philadelphia, on the 3d ult. He was in the 83d year of his +age, and stood nearly at the head of the list of post captains, +Commodores BARRON and STEWART only preceding him. He was a native of +Delaware, and one of the number who, in the war of 1812, contributed to +establish the naval renown of our country. For the gallant manner in +which, while in command of the brig Wasp, he captured the British brig +Frolic, of superior force, he was voted a sword by each of the States of +Delaware, Massachusetts, and New-York. He was, until recently, the +Governor of the Naval Asylum, near Philadelphia.--The city authorities +of Boston, acting under the advice of the Consulting Physicians, have +decided to abandon all quarantine regulations, as neither useful nor +effectual in preventing the introduction of epidemic +diseases.--Professor FORSHEY, in an essay just published, proves by the +result of observations kept up through a great number of years, that the +channel of the Mississippi river is _deepening_, and consequently the +levee system will not necessarily elevate the bed of the river, as has +been feared. On the contrary, he thinks confining the river within a +narrow channel will give it additional velocity, ant serve to scrape out +the bottom; while opening artificial outlets, by diminishing the +current, will cause the rapid deposition of sediment, and thus produce +evil to be guarded against.--A project has been broached for completing +the line of railroads from Boston to Halifax, and then to have the +Atlantic steamers run between that port and Galway, the most westerly +port of Ireland. In this way it is thought that the passage from +Liverpool to New York may be considerably shortened. + +In SCIENTIFIC matters some interesting and important experiments have +been made by Prof. PAGE of the Smithsonian Institute, on the subject of +Electro-Magnetism as a motive power, the results of which have recently +been announced by him in public lectures. He states that there can be no +further doubt as to the application of this power as a substitute for +steam. He exhibited experiments in which a bar of iron weighing one +hundred and sixty pounds was made to spring up ten inches through the +air, and says that he can as readily move a bar weighing a hundred tons +through a space of a hundred feet. He expects to be able to apply it to +forge hammers, pile drivers, &c, and to engines with a stroke of six, +ten, or twenty feet. He exhibited also an engine of between four and +five horse power, worked by a battery contained in a space of three +cubic feet. It was a reciprocating engine of two feet stroke, the engine +and battery weighing about one ton, and driving a circular saw ten +inches in diameter, sawing boards an inch and a quarter thick, making +eighty strokes a minute. The professor says that the cost of the power +is less than steam under most conditions, though not so low as the +cheapest steam engines. The consumption of three pounds of zinc per day +produces one horse power. The larger his engines the greater the +economy. Some practical difficulties remain to be overcome in the +application of the power to practical purposes on a larger scale: but +little doubt seems to be entertained that such an application is +feasible. The result is one of very great importance to science, as well +as to the arts of practical life.--We made a statement in our July +number of the pretensions of Mr. Henry M. Paine, of Worcester, Mass., to +having discovered a new method of procuring hydrogen from water, and +rendering it capable of giving a brilliant light, with great case and at +a barely nominal expense, by passing it through cold spirits of +turpentine. His claims have been very generally discredited, and were +supposed to have been completely exploded by the examinations of several +scientific gentlemen of Boston and New York. Mr. GEORGE MATHIOT, an +electro-metallurgist attached to the United States Coast Survey, and a +gentleman of scientific habits and attainments, has published in the +Scientific American, a statement that he has succeeded in a kindred +attempt. He produced a very brilliant light, nearly equal to the +Drummond, by passing hydrogen through turpentine: and in thus passing +the gas from thirty-three ounces of zinc through it, the quantity of +turpentine was not perceptibly diminished. "In this case," he says, "the +hydrogen could not have been changed into carburetted hydrogen, for coal +gas contains from four to five times as much carbon as hydrogen, and +pure carburetted hydrogen has six times as much carbon as hydrogen; and, +as 33 ounces of zinc, by solution, liberate one ounce, or twelve cubic +feet of hydrogen, therefore, from four to six ounces of turpentine +should have been used up, supposing it to be all carbon; but turpentine +is composed of twenty atoms of carbon to fifteen atoms of hydrogen, and, +consequently, only one-seventh of its carbon can be taken up by the +hydrogen; or, in other words, forty-two ounces of turpentine will be +required to carburet one ounce of hydrogen." He tried the experiment +afterward, placing the whole apparatus in a cold bath to prevent +evaporation, and again by heating the turpentine to 120 degrees--but in +both cases with the same result. He used the same turpentine and had a +brilliant light for nearly three hours, and yet the quantity was not +perceptibly diminished. Mr. Mathiot claims that his experiments prove +conclusively that hydrogen can be used for illumination, but at what +comparative rate of expense he does not state.--The American Scientific +Association commenced its annual session at New Haven on the 19th of +August. This is an association formed for the advancement of science and +embraces within its members nearly all the leading scientific men of the +United States. Prof. BACHE presides. The proceedings of these +conventions, made up of papers on scientific subjects read by +distinguished gentlemen, are published in a volume, and form a valuable +contribution to American scientific literature.--Intelligence has been +received, by way of England, and also, direct, from two of the American +vessels sent out in search of Sir John Franklin. The brig _Advance_ +arrived at Whalefish Island, on the West Coast of Greenland, on the 24th +of June, and the _Rescue_ arrived two days after. Two of the British +steamers and two of the ships had also arrived. All on board were well, +and in good spirits for prosecuting the expedition. Enormous icebergs +were, seen by the American vessels on the voyage, some of them rising +150 or 200 feet above the water. A letter from an officer of the +_Rescue_ says they expected to go to a place called Uppermarik, about +two hundred miles from Whalefish Island, thence to Melville Bay, and +across Lancaster Sound to Cape Walker, and from that point they would +try to go to Melville Island and as much farther as possible. They +intended to winter at Melville Island, but that would depend upon +circumstances. + + * * * * * + +The LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month presents no feature of special +interest. The first volume of a series of Reminiscences of Congress, +made up mainly of a biography of DANIEL WEBSTER, has just been issued +from the press of Messrs. Baker and Scribner. It is by CHARLES W. MARCH, +Esq., a young man of fine talents, and of unusual advantages for the +preparation of such a work. His style is eminently graphic and +classical, and the book is one which merits attention.--The same +publishers will also publish a volume of sketches by IK. MARVEL, the +well-known pseudonym of Mr. D. G. MITCHELL, whose "Fresh Gleanings," and +"Battle Summer," have already made him very favorably known to the +literary community.--Prof. TORREY, of the University of Vermont, has +prepared for the press the fourth volume of his translation of NEANDER'S +Church History, which will be issued soon. It is understood that, at the +time of his death, the great German scholar was engaged upon the fifth +volume of his history, which is therefore left unfinished.--The +Appletons announce a Life of JOHN RANDOLPH, by Hon. A. H. GARLAND, which +can not fail to be an attractive and interesting work. They are also to +publish the magnificently-illustrated book on the war between the United +States and Mexico, upon which GEO. W. KENDALL has been engaged for a +year or two., It is to embrace splendid pictorial drawings of all the +principal conflicts, taken on the spot, by Carl Nebel, a German artist +of distinction, with a description of each battle by Mr. KENDALL. It +will be issued in one volume, folio, beautifully colored. + + * * * * * + +The past month has been distinguished by the annual commencements of the +academic year in most of the colleges of the country. At these +anniversary occasions, the candidates for honors make public exhibition +of their ability; the literary societies attached to the colleges hold +their celebrations: and addresses and poems are delivered by literary +gentlemen previously invited to perform that duty. The number of +colleges in the country, and the fact that the most distinguished +scholars in the country are generally selected for the office, gives to +these occasions a peculiar and decided interest; and the addresses then +and thus pronounced, being published, form no inconsiderable or unworthy +portion of the literature of the age. The commencement at Yale College +was celebrated at New Haven, on the 15th ult. The recurrence of the +third semi-centennial anniversary of the foundation of the college, in +1700, led to additional exercises of great interest, under the +supervision of the alumni of the college, of whom over 3000 are still +living, and about 1000 of whom were present. President WOOLSEY delivered +a very interesting historical discourse, sketching the origin, progress, +and results of the institution, and claiming for it a steady and +successful effort to meet the requirements of the country and the age. +The discourse, when published, will form a valuable contribution to the +historical literature of the country. The alumni, at their dinner, which +followed the address, listened to some eloquent and interesting speeches +from ex-President DAY and Prof. SILLIMAN, touching the history of Yale +College; from Prof. FELTON, concerning Harvard; from LEONARD BACON, +D.D., in reference to the clergy educated at Yale; from EDWARD BATES, of +Missouri, concerning the West and the Union; from Prof. BROWN, of +Dartmouth; from DANIEL LORD, of New York, upon the Bench and the Bar; +and from Dr. STEVENS, upon the Medical Profession, as connected with +Yale College; and from other gentlemen of distinction and ability, upon +various topics. JOHN W. ANDREWS, Esq., of Columbus, O., delivered the +oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society; his subject was the Progress +of the World during the last half century. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, of +Cambridge, delivered the poem, which was one of his most admirable +productions--a blending of the most exquisite descriptive and +sentimental poetry with the finest humor, the keenest wit, and the most +effective sarcasm. PIERPONT, the well-known poet, also read an admirable +satirical and humorous poem at the dinner: The number of graduates at +Yale this year was seventy-eight.--The commencement of the University of +Vermont occurred on the 7th. Rev. HENRY WILKES, of Montreal, delivered +an address before the Society for Religious Inquiry, upon the Relations +of the Age to Theology. H. J. RAYMOND, of New-York, addressed the +Associate Alumni on the Duties of American Scholars, with special +reference to certain aspects of American Society; and Rev. Mr. WASHBURN, +of Newburyport, Mass., delivered an address before the Literary +Societies, on the Developments and Influences of the Spiritual +Philosophy The number of graduates was fifteen--considerably less than +usual.--Union College at Schenectady, N.Y., celebrated its commencement +on the 24th of July. Rev. Dr. S. H. Cox, of Brooklyn, delivered the +address. The number of graduates was eighty.--At Dartmouth, commencement +occurred on the 25th of July. Rev. Dr. SPRAGUE, of Albany, addressed the +alumni on the Perpetuity of Literary Influence; DAVID PAUL BROWN, Esq., +of Philadelphia, the Literary Societies, on Character, its Force and +Results; and Rev. ALBERT BARNES, of the same city, addressed the +Theological Society on the Theology of the Unknown. The number of +graduates was forty-six.--On the 24th of July, the regular +commencement-day, Hon. THEO. FRELINGHUYSEN was inaugurated as President +of Rutgers College, N.J. His address was one of great ability and +eloquence, enforcing the importance of academic education to the age and +the country. The number of graduates was twenty-four.--Amherst College +celebrated its commencement on the 8th The number of graduates was +twenty-four Rev. Dr. Cox addressed the Society of Inquiry on the +importance of having history studied as a science in our colleges. A. B. +STREET, Esq., of Albany, delivered a poem, and Mr. E. P. WHIPPLE, of +Boston, an admirable and eloquent oration on the characteristics and +tendencies of American genius. He repeated the oration at the Wesleyan +University, at Middletown, Conn.; where a brilliant oration by Prof. D. +D. WHEDON, and a poem by Mr. W. H. C. HOSMER, were delivered before the +Phi Beta Kappa Society. An able and learned address was delivered before +the Alumni by Rev. J. CUMMINGS. The number of graduates was +nineteen.--Some important changes are to be made in the organization of +Brown University, in accordance with the principles and views recently +set forth by President WAYLAND, in a published pamphlet. Greater +prominence is to be given to the study of the natural sciences as +applied to the arts of practical life, and the study of the ancient +languages is to be made optional with students. The sum of $108,000 has +been raised by subscriptions in aid of the institution. Rev. ASAHEL +KENDRICK, of Madison University, has been elected Professor of Greek; +WILLIAM A. NORTON, of Delaware College, Professor of Natural Philosophy +and Civil Engineering; and JOHN A. PORTER, of the Lawrence Scientific +School, Professor of Chemistry applied to the Arts.--Rev. Dr. Tefft, of +Cincinnati, has been elected President of the Genesee College just +established at Lima, N.Y. The sum of $100,000 has been raised for its +support. + + * * * * * + +From CALIFORNIA our intelligence is to the 15th of July, received by the +Philadelphia steamer, which brought gold to the value of over a million +of dollars. The accounts from the gold mines are unusually good. The +high water at most of the old mines prevented active operations; but +many new deposits had been discovered, especially upon the head waters +of Feather river, and between that and Sacramento river. Gold has also +been discovered at the upper end of Carson river valley, near and at the +eastern base of the Sierra Nevada. A lump of quartz mixed with gold, +weighing thirty pounds, and containing twenty-three pounds of pure gold, +has been found between the North and Middle Forks of the Yuba river. At +Nevada and the Gold Run, where the deposits were supposed to have been +exhausted, further explorations have shown it in very great abundance, +at a depth, sometimes, of forty feet below the surface. The hills and +ravines in the neighborhood are said to be very rich in gold.--A very +alarming state of things exists in the southern mines, owing, in a great +degree, to the disaffection created by the tax levied upon foreign +miners. Murders and other crimes of the most outrageous character are of +constant occurrence, and in the immediate vicinity of Sonora, it is +stated that more than twenty murders had been committed within a +fortnight. Guerrilla parties, composed mainly of Mexican robbers, were +in the mountains, creating great alarm, and rendering life and property +in their vicinity wholly insecure. Fresh Indian troubles had also broken +out on the Tuolumne: three Americans had been shot.--The Odd Fellows +have erected a grand edifice at San Francisco for the accommodation of +their order.--The Fourth of July was celebrated with great enthusiasm +throughout California.--It is stated that a line of steamers is to be +run from San Francisco direct to Canton. Whether the enterprise be +undertaken at once or not, it cannot, in the natural course of events, +be delayed many years. The settlement of California will lead, directly +or indirectly, to a constant commercial intercourse with China, and will +exert a more decided influence upon the trade and civilization of +eastern Asia, than any other event of the present century. California +can not long continue dependent upon the Atlantic coast, still less +upon the countries of Europe, for the teas, silks, spices, &c, which her +population will require. She is ten thousand miles nearer to their +native soil than either England, France, or the United States, and will, +of course, procure them for herself rather than through their agency. + +From OREGON we have intelligence to the first of July. Governor LANE has +resigned his post as governor of the territory, and was about starting +on a gold-hunting expedition. It is said that one of the richest gold +mines on the Pacific coast has been discovered in the Spokan country, +some 400 miles above Astoria, on the Columbia river. Parties were on +their way to examine it. Extensive discoveries of gold, we may say here, +are reported to have been made in Venezuela, on a branch of the river +Orinoco. The papers of that country are full of exultation over this +discovery, from which they anticipate means to pay the English debt +within a single year. + + * * * * * + +From MEXICO our dates are to the 16th of July. The ravages of the +Indians in the Northern districts still continue. In Chihuahua they have +become so extensive that a body of three hundred men was to be sent to +suppress them. The State of Durango has also been almost overrun by +them. In Sonora several severe conflicts have taken place in which the +troops were victorious. The cholera has almost ceased. + + * * * * * + +In ENGLAND, no event has excited more interest than the claim of his +seat in the House of Commons by Baron ROTHSCHILD. At his request, a +meeting of the electors of the city of London was held July 25th, to +confer on the course proper to be pursued. The meeting concluded by +resolving that Baron R. ought to claim his seat, which he accordingly +did on the 26th of July. He asked to be sworn on the Old Testament, +against which Sir Robert Inglis protested. The question was debated for +several days, and was finally postponed until the next session.--The +proceedings of PARLIAMENT, during the month, have not been of special +interest. The House of Commons passed the resolutions approving of the +foreign policy of the ministry, and especially its conduct in regard to +the claims on the government of Greece, by a vote of ayes 310, nays 264, +showing a ministerial majority of 46. The selection of a site for the +great Industrial Exhibition of next year has elicited a good deal of +discussion. Hyde Park has been fixed upon as the site against the very +earnest remonstrances of many who live in its vicinity; and the building +committee have accepted an offer made by Mr. Paxton, to erect a building +chiefly of iron and glass. It is to be of wood-work to the height of +eighteen feet, and arrangements have been made to provide complete +ventilation, and to secure a moderate temperature. It is to be made in +Birmingham, and the entire cost is stated at about a million of +dollars. There will be on the ground-floor alone seven miles of tables. +There will be 1,200,000 square feet of glass, 24 miles of one +description of gutter, and 218 miles of "sash-bar;" and in the +construction 4500 tons of iron will be expended. The wooden floor will +be arranged with "divisions," so as to allow the dust to fall +through.--An attempt was made to secure a vote in the House of Commons +in favor of repealing the malt-tax, on the ground that it pressed too +heavily upon the agricultural interest; but it failed, 247 voting +against it and 123 in its favor.--An effort was made to extend still +further the principles of the reform bill, by making the franchise of +counties in England and Wales the same as it is in boroughs, giving the +right of voting to all occupiers of tenements of the annual value of +L10. The motion was warmly advocated by several members, but opposed by +Lord John Russel, partly on the ground that it was brought forward at a +wrong time, and partly because he thought the changes contemplated +inconsistent with the maintenance of the monarchy, the House of Lords, +and the House of Commons, which were fundamental parts of the British +Constitution. The motion was lost by 159 to 100.--A motion to inquire +into the working of the existing regulation concerning Sunday labor in +the Post-offices was carried 195 to 112.--A motion made by Lord John +Russell to erect a monument in Westminster Abbey, to the memory of Sir +Robert Peel was carried by acclamation.--The sum of L12,000 per annum +was voted to the present Duke of Cambridge, and L3000 to the Princess +Mary of Cambridge--being grandchildren of the late King George III.--not +without strenuous opposition from members, who thought the sums +unnecessarily large. + +A petition was recently presented in the House of Lords, purporting to +be signed by 18,000 rate payers, against the bill for the Liverpool +Corporation Water-works. In consequence of suspicions that were +entertained, the document was referred to a select committee and it was +found on investigation that many of the names had been affixed by +clerks, and the paper then wet to make it appear that it had been +carried round from place to place in the rain. Evidence was taken +showing that this had been a very common practice of agents employed by +the parties interested to get up signatures to petitions. The Committee +in the House of Lords had expressed themselves very strongly as to the +necessity of some law for preventing such abuses in future.--The +criminal tables for the year 1849 have been laid before Parliament. Of +the persons committed for trial during the year, 6786 were acquitted, +and 21,001 convicted. Of these convicted one in 318 was sentenced to +death, and one in 8 to transportation. There has been no execution since +1841 except for murder: of 19 persons convicted during the past year of +this offense 15 were executed, _five_ of whom were females.--The Royal +Agricultural Society held its annual meeting July 18th at Exeter. Mr. +LAWRENCE the American Minister at London, and Mr. RIVES the Minister at +Paris were both present and made eloquent speeches, upon the +agricultural state of England.--The boiler of the steamer Red Rover at +Bristol exploded July 22d, killing six persons and severely injuring +many others.--An explosion took place in the coal-pits belonging to Mr. +Sneden, near Airdrie on the 23d, by which _nineteen_ persons were +instantly killed. Only one man in the mine escaped; he saved his life by +throwing himself upon the ground the moment he heard the explosion. The +men were not provided with Davy safety-lamps.--At a meeting of the Royal +Humane Society a new invention of Lieutenant Halkett, of the Navy, was +introduced. It is a boat-cloak which may be worn, like a common cloak on +the shoulders, and may be inflated in three or four minutes by a bellows +and will then sustain six or eight persons--forming a kind of boat which +it is almost impossible to overturn. A trial was to be made of its +efficacy.--Sir Thomas Wilde has been made Lord Chancellor and raised to +the peerage by the title of Baron Truro of Bowes, in the County of +Middlesex.--Sir Robert Peel, Bart., has been returned to Parliament for +the borough of Tamworth made vacant by the death of his father. It is +stated that Sir Robert's last injunction was that his children should +not receive titles or pensions for any supposed services their father +might have rendered. This is in keeping with the severe simplicity of +his character and negatives conclusively the representations of those +who have charged his advocacy of measures designed to aid the poor, to +interested motives of selfish or family ambition. A subscription has +been set on foot for a testimonial to his memory to be called "the +Working-man's Monument." + + * * * * * + +The foreign LITERARY INTELLIGENCE of the month is unusually meagre. The +only work of great interest that has been published is WORDSWORTH'S +posthumous Poem, _The Prelude_, of which a somewhat extended notice will +be found on a preceding page. It has already been republished in this +country, where it will find a wide circle of sympathizing readers. The +Household Narrative, in summing up the literary news, says that another +note-worthy poem of the month, also a posthumous publication though +written some years ago, is a dramatic piece attributed to Mr. Beddoes, +and partaking largely of his well-known eccentricity and genius, called +_Death's Jest-Book or the Fool's Tragedy_. A republication of Mr. +Cottle's twenty-four books of _Alfred_, though the old pleasant butt and +"jest-book" of his ancient friend Charles Lamb, is said hardly to +deserve even so many words of mention. Nor is there much novelty in _A +Selection from the Poems and Dramatic Works of Theodore Korner_, though +the translation is a new one, and by the clever translator of the +_Nibelungen_. To this brief catalogue of works of fancy is added the +mention of two somewhat clever tales in one volume, with the title of +_Hearts in Mortmain_ and _Cornelia_, intended to illustrate the working +of particular phases of mental emotion; and another by Mrs. Trollope, +called _Petticoat Government_.----In the department of history there is +nothing more important than a somewhat small volume with the very large +title of the _Correspondence of the Emperor Charles V. and his +Embassadors at the Courts of England and France_; which turns out to be +a limited selection from letters existing in the archives at Vienna, but +not uninteresting to English readers, from the fact of their incidental +illustrations of the history of Henry VIII., and the close of Wolsey's +career. Two books of less pretension have contributed new facts to the +history of the late civil war in Hungary; the first from the Austrian +point of view by an _Eye-witness_, and the second from the Hungarian by +_Max Schlesinger_. Mr. Baillie Cochrane has also contributed his mite to +the elucidation of recent revolutions in a volume called _Young Italy_, +which is chiefly remarkable for its praise of Lord Brougham, its defense +of the Pope, its exaggerated scene-painting of the murder of Rossi, its +abuse of the Roman Republic, and its devotion of half a line to the +mention of Mazzini. + +Better worthy of brief record are the few miscellaneous publications, +which comprise an excellent new translation of _Rochefoucauld's Maxims_, +with a better account of the author, and more intelligent notes, than +exist in any previous edition; most curious and interesting _Memorials +of the Empire of Japan in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries_, +which Mr. Rundell of the East India House has issued under the +superintendence of the Hakluyt Society, and which illustrate English +relations with those Japanese; an intelligent and striking summary of +the _Antiquities of Richborough, Reculver, and Lynne_, written by Mr. +Roach Smith and illustrated by Mr. Fairholt, which exhibits the results +of recent discoveries of many remarkable Roman antiquities in Kent; and +a brief, unassuming narrative of the Hudson's Bay Company's _Expedition +to the Shores of the Arctic Sea in 1846 and 1847_, by the commander of +the expedition, Mr. John Rae. + +Ballooning in France and England seems to have become a temporary mania. +The ascent of Messrs. Barral and Bixio, of which a detailed and very +interesting account will be found in a preceding page, has encouraged +imitators in various styles. One M. Poitevin made an ascent in Paris +seated on a horse, which was attached to the balloon in place of the +car. The London _Athenaeum_ invokes the aid of the police to prevent such +needless cruelty to animals, and to exercise proper supervision over the +madmen who undertake such fool-hardy feats.----A plaster mask said to +have been taken from the face of Shakspeare, and bearing the date 1616 +on its back, has been brought to London from Mayence, which is said to +have been procured from an ecclesiastical personage of high rank at +Cologne. It excites considerable attention among virtuosos.----The +English, undeterred by the indignation which has been poured out upon +Lord Elgin by BYRON and others for rifling Athens of its antiquities for +display at home, are practicing the same desecration in regard to the +treasures discovered in Nineveh by Mr. Layard. It is announced that the +Great Bull and upwards of 100 tons of sculpture excavated by him, may be +expected in England in September for the British Museum. The French +Government are also making extensive collections of Assyrian works of +art.----Among those who perished by the loss of the British steamer +_Orion_ was Dr. JOHN BURNS, Professor of Surgery in the University of +Glasgow, and a man of considerable eminence in his profession. He was +the author of several works upon various medical subjects and had also +written upon literary and theological topics. Dr. GRAY, Professor of +Oriental languages in the same university has also deceased within the +month.----A new filtering apparatus, intended to render sea-water +drinkable, has recently been brought to the notice of the Paris +Academy.----A letter in the London _Athenaeum_ from the Nile complains +bitterly of the constant devastation of the remains of ancient temples, +&c., caused by the rapacious economy of the government. The writer +states that immense sculptured and painted blocks have been taken from +the temple of Karnac, for the construction of a sugar factory; a fine +ancient tomb has also entirely disappeared under this process. Very +earnest complaints are also made of the Prussian traveler Dr. Lepsius, +for carrying away relies of antiquity, and for destroying others. The +writer urges that if this process is continued Egypt will lose far more +by the cessation of English travel than she can gain in the value of +material used.----Rev. W. KIRBY, distinguished as one of the first +entomologists of the age, died at his residence in Suffolk, July 4th, at +the advanced age of 91. He has left behind him several works of great +ability and reputation on his favorite science.----It is stated that the +late Sir Robert Peel left his papers to Lord Mahon and Mr. Edward +Cardwell M.P.----Among the deaths of the month we find that of an +amiable man and accomplished writer, Mr. B. Simmons, whose name will be +recollected as that of a frequent contributor of lyrical poems of a high +order to _Blackwood's Magazine_, and to several of the Annuals. Mr. +Simmons, who held a situation in the Excise office, died July +19th.----GUIZOT, the eminent historian, on the marriage of his two +daughters recently to descendants of the illustrious Hollander De WITT, +was unable to give them any thing as marriage portions. Notwithstanding +the eminent positions he has filled for so much of his life--positions +which most men would have made the means of acquiring enormous wealth, +GUIZOT is still poor. This fact alone furnishes at once evidence and +illustration of his sterling integrity.----A new History of Spain, by +ST. HILAIRE, is in course of publication in Paris. He has been engaged +upon it for a number of years, and it is said to be a work of great +ability and learning.----LEVERRIER, the French astronomer, has published +a strong appeal in favor of throwing the electric telegraph open to the +public in France, as it has been in the United States. At present it is +guarded by the government as a close monopoly. His paper contains a good +deal of interesting matter in regard to this greatest of modern +inventions.----MEINHOLD, the author of the "Amber Witch," has lately +been fined and imprisoned for slandering a brother clergyman. This is +the second instance in which he has been convicted of this +offense.----M. GUIZOT has addressed a long letter to each of the five +classes of the Institute of France, to declare that he can not accept +the candidateship offered him for a seat in the Superior Council of +Public Instruction.----Sir EDWARD BULWER LYTTON is to be a candidate for +the House of Commons, with Colonel Sibthorpe, for Lincoln. He has a new +play forthcoming for the Princess's Theater.----Miss STRICKLAND has in +preparation a series of volumes on the Queens of Scotland, as a +companion to her interesting and successful work on the Queens of +England.----Sir FRANCIS KNOWLES has recently taken out a patent for +producing iron in an improved form. In blast-furnaces, as at present +constructed, the ore, the flux, and combustibles, are mixed together; +and the liberated gases of the fuel injure the quality of the iron, and +cause great waste, in the shape of slag. By the new process the ore is +to be kept separate from the sulphureous fuel in a compartment contrived +for the purpose, in the centre of the furnace, where it will be in +contact with peat only; and in this way the waste will be avoided, and a +quality of metal will be produced fully equal to the best Swedish. The +invention is likely to be one of considerable importance.----Professor +JOHNSTON, the distinguished English agriculturist, who visited this +country last year, and lectured in several of the principal cities, at a +late farmers' meeting in Berwickshire, gave a general account of the +state of agriculture in America, as it fell under his personal +observation. He represented it in the Northern States as about what it +was in Scotland eighty or ninety years ago. The land in all New England +he said had been exhausted by bad farming, and even in the Western +States the tendency of things was to the same result. He thought it +would not be long before America would be utterly unable to export wheat +to England in any large quantity. + + * * * * * + +Affairs in FRANCE are still unsettled. The Government goes steadily +forward in the enactment of laws restraining the Press, forbidding free +discussion among the people, diminishing popular rights and preparing +the way, by all the means in their power, for another revolution. The +most explicit provisions of the Constitution have been set aside and the +government of the Republic is really more despotic than was that of +Louis Philippe at any time during his reign. A warm debate occurred in +the Assembly on the bill for restricting the liberty of the press. It +commenced on the 8th of July and gave occasion to a violent scene. M. +Rouher, the Minister of Justice, spoke of the Revolution of February as +a "disastrous catastrophe," which elicited loud demands from the +opposition that he should be called to order. The President refused to +call him to order and M. Girardin threatened to resign saying, that he +would not sit in an assembly where such language was permitted. He did +not resign, however, but his friends contented themselves with handing +in a protest the next day which the President refused to receive. The +debate then proceeded and an amendment was passed, 313 to 281, declaring +that all leading articles in journals should be signed by the writers. +On the 15th an amendment was adopted that papers publishing a +_feuilleton_ should pay an additional tax of one centime beyond the +ordinary stamp duty. On the 16th the bill was finally passed by a vote +of 390 to 265. + + * * * * * + +From PORTUGAL we learn that Mr. CLAY, having failed to secure from the +Portuguese government a compliance with the demands he was instructed to +make, asked for his passports and withdrew. The difficulty engages the +attention of the Portuguese Minister at Washington, and the Department +of State, and it is supposed that it will be amicably settled. No +details of the negotiations in progress have been made public, but it is +understood that no doubt exists as to the result. + + * * * * * + +In GERMANY the event of the month which excites most interest in this +country, is the death of NEANDER. Our preceding pages contain a notice +of his life, writings, and character, which renders any further mention +here unnecessary.----At Berlin the Academy of Sciences has been holding +a sitting, according to its statutes, in honor of the memory of +Leibnitz. In the course of the oration delivered on the occasion it was +stated that, the 4th of August next being the 50th anniversary of the +admission of Alexander von Humboldt as a member of the Academy, it has +been resolved, in celebration of the event, to place a marble bust of +the "Nestor of Science" in the lecture-room of the Society. + + * * * * * + +From SPAIN there is nothing of importance. The Queen, Isabella, gave +birth to an heir, on the 13th of July, but it lived scarcely an hour, so +that the Duchess of Montpensier is still heir presumptive to the throne. +The Count of Montemolin has married a sister of the king of Naples, and +the Spanish minister, taking offense, has left that court. + + * * * * * + +From DENMARK there is intelligence of new hostilities. The +Schleswig-Holstein difficulty, which was supposed to have been settled, +has broken out afresh. The negotiations which had been in progress +between the five great powers, were broken off by Prussia, she declaring +that neither Austria nor Prussia could ever assent to considering the +provinces in question as parts of the Danish monarchy. The failure to +agree upon satisfactory terms, led both parties to prepare for renewed +hostilities, and a severe engagement took place on the 25th of July, +between the Danes and the Holsteiners, in which the latter were +defeated. The field of action was Idstedt, a small village on the +Flensburg road. The Danish army amounted to about 45,000 men, commanded +by General Von Krogh; the army of the Holsteiners to 28,000 only, +commanded at the centre by General Willisen, a Prussian volunteer; at +the right by Colonel Von der Horst, also a Prussian, and at the left by +Colonel Von der Taun, a Bavarian officer, of chivalrous courage and +great impetuosity. The battle commenced at three o'clock in the morning +with an attack of the Danes on both wings of the enemy. They were very +warmly received, and after the battle had lasted two or three hours, +they made an assault upon the centre, with infantry, cavalry, and +artillery at the same time. They were so strongly repulsed, however, +that they were compelled to retreat. An attack of their whole force, +concentrated upon the centre and right wing of the Holsteiners was more +successful, and by bringing up a reserve, after ten or twelve hours hard +fighting, they compelled the Holstein centre to give way, and by two +o'clock the army was in full retreat, but in good order. The Danes +appear to have been either too fatigued or too indolent to follow up +their advantage. The members of the Holstein government, who were in +Schleswig, fled immediately to Kiel, on hearing the battle was lost; all +the officials also left the town; the post-office was shut, the doors +locked, and all business suspended. The battle was more sanguinary than +that fought under the walls of Frederica on the 6th of July last year. +The loss on both sides has been estimated at about 7000 men in killed, +wounded, and missing--of which the Holstein party say the greater share +has fallen upon the Danes. Another engagement is said to have taken +place on the 1st of August near Mohede, in which the Danes were +defeated, with but slight loss on either side. The interference of the +great powers is anticipated. + + * * * * * + +From INDIA and the EAST there is little news of interest. A terrible +accident occurred at Benares on the 1st of May. A fleet of thirty boats, +containing ordnance stores, was destroyed by the explosion of 3000 +barrels of gunpowder with which they were freighted. Four hundred and +twenty persons were killed on the spot, about 800 more were wounded, and +a number of houses were leveled with the ground. The cause of the +disaster remained unexplained, as not a human being was left alive who +could tell the tale.----The city of Canton has been visited with a +severe fever which has been very destructive, though it had spared the +European factories.----The great Oriental diamond, seized by the British +as part of the spoils of the Sikh war, was presented to the Queen on the +3d of July, having arrived from India a few days before. It was +discovered in the mines of Golconda three hundred years ago, and first +belonged to the Mogul emperor, the father of the great Aurungzebee. Its +shape and size are like those of the pointed end of a hen's egg; and its +value is estimated at two millions of pounds sterling.----News has been +received of an insurrection against the Dutch government in the district +of Bantam. The insurgents attacked the town of Anjear, in the Straits of +Sunda, but, after burning the houses, were driven back to their +fastnesses by the military. + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + +IN MEMORIAM. Boston: Ticknor, Reed, and Fields. 12mo. pp. 216. + +The impressive beauty of these touching lyrics proceeds, in a great +degree, from the "sad sincerity" which so evidently inspired their +composition. In memory of a youthful friend, who was distinguished for +his rare early promise, his ripe and manifold accomplishments, and a +strange, magnetic affinity with the genius of the author, these +exquisite poems are the gushing expression of a heart touched and +softened, but not enervated by deep sorrow. The poet takes a pensive +delight in gathering up every memorial of the brother of his affections; +his fancy teems with all sweet and beautiful images to show the +tenderness of his grief; every object in external nature recalls the +lost treasure; until, after reveling in the luxury of woe, he regains a +serene tranquillity, with the lapse of many years. With the exquisite +pathos that pervades this volume, there is no indulgence in weak and +morbid sentiment. It is free from the preternatural gloom which so often +makes elegiac poetry an abomination to every healthy intellect. The +tearful bard does not allow himself to be drowned in sorrow, but draws +from its pure and bitter fountains the sources of noble inspiration and +earnest resolve. No one can read these natural records of a spirit, +wounded but not crushed, without fresh admiration of the rich poetical +resources, the firm, masculine intellect, and the unbounded wealth of +feeling, which have placed TENNYSON in such a lofty position among the +living poets of England. + + * * * * * + +Harper and Brothers have recently published _The History of Darius_, by +JACOB ABBOTT, _The English Language in its Elements and Forms_, by +WILLIAM C. FOWLER, _Julia Howard_, a Romance, by Mrs. MARTIN BELL, +_Five Years of a Hunter's Life in the Interior of South Africa_, by R. +G. CUMMING, _Health, Disease, and Remedy_, by GEORGE MOORE, and _Latter +Day Pamphlets_, No. viii., by THOMAS CARLYLE. + +_The History of Darius_ is one of Mr. ABBOTT'S popular historical +series, written in the style of easy and graceful idiomatic English +(though not always free from inaccuracies), which give a pleasant flavor +to all the productions of the author. In a neat preface, with which the +volume is introduced, Mr. Abbott explains the reasons for the mildness +and reserve with which he speaks of the errors, and often the crimes of +the persons whose history he describes. He justifies this course, both +on the ground of its intrinsic propriety, and of the authority of +Scripture, which, as he justly observes, relates the narratives of crime +"in a calm, simple, impartial, and forbearing spirit, which leads us to +condemn, the sins, but not to feel a pharisaical resentment and wrath +against the sinner." The present volume sets forth the leading facts in +the life of Darius the Great with remarkable clearness and condensation, +and can scarcely be too highly commended, both for the use of juvenile +readers, and of those who wish to become acquainted with the subject, +but who have not the leisure to pursue a more extended course of +historical study. + +Professor FOWLER'S work on the English Language is a profound treatise +on the Philosophy of Grammar, the fruit of laborious and patient +research for many years, and an addition of unmistakable value to our +abundant philological treasures. It treats of the English Language in +its elements and forms, giving a copious history of its origin and +development, and ascending to the original principles on which its +construction is founded. The work is divided into eight parts, each of +which presents a different aspect of the subject, yet all of them, in +their mutual correlation, and logical dependence, are intended to form a +complete and symmetrical system. We are acquainted with no work on this +subject which is better adapted for a text-book in collegiate +instruction, for which purpose it is especially designed by the author. +At the same time it will prove an invaluable aid to more advanced +students of the niceties of our language, and may even be of service to +the most practiced writers, by showing them the raw material, in its +primitive state, out of which they cunningly weave together their most +finished and beautiful fabrics. + +_Julia Howard_ is the reprint of an Irish story of exciting interest, +which, by its powerful delineation of passion, its bright daguerreotypes +of character, and the wild intensity of its plot, must become a favorite +with the lovers of high-wrought fiction. + +We have given a taste of CUMMING'S _Five Years of a Hunter's Life_ in +the last number of _The New Monthly Magazine_, from which it will be +seen that the writer is a fierce, blood-thirsty Nimrod, whose highest +ideal is found in the destruction of wild-beasts, and who relates his +adventures with the same eagerness of passion which led him to +expatriate himself from the charms of English society in the tangled +depths of the African forest. Every page is redolent of gunpowder, and +you almost hear the growl of the victim as he falls before the unerring +shot of this mighty hunter. + +Dr. MOORE'S book on _Health, Disease, and Remedy_ is a plain, practical, +common-sense treatise on hygiene, without confinement in the harness of +any of the modern _opathies_. His alert and cheerful spirit will prevent +the increase of hypochondria by the perusal of his volume, and his +directions are so clear and definite, that they can be easily +comprehended even by the most nervous invalid. Its purpose can not be +more happily described than in the words of the author. "It is neither a +popular compendium of physiology, hand-book of physic, an art of healing +made easy, a medical guide-book, a domestic medicine, a digest of odd +scraps on digestion, nor a dry reduction of a better book, but rather a +running comment on a few prominent truths in medical science, viewed +according to the writer's own experience. The object has been to assist +the unprofessional reader to form a sober estimate of Physic, and enable +him to second the physician's efforts to promote health." Dr. Moore's +habits of thought and expression are singularly direct, and he never +leaves you at a loss for his meaning. + +We can not say so much for CARLYLE, whose eighth number of _Latter-Day +Tracts_, on _Jesuitism_, brings that flaming and fantastic series to a +close, with little detriment, we presume, to the public. + +Phillips, Sampson, and Co. have published a critique on Carlyle, by +ELIZUR WRIGHT, the pungent editor of the Boston Chronotype, entitled +_Perforations of the "Latter-Day Pamphlets, by one of the Eighteen +Million Bores,"_ in which he makes some effective hits, reducing the +strongest positions of his opponent to impalpable powder. + +_The Odd Fellows' Offering for_ 1851, published by Edward Walker, is the +ninth volume of this beautiful annual, and is issued with the earliest +of its competitors for public favor. As a representative of the literary +character of the Order, it is highly creditable to the Institution. +Seven of the eleven illustrations are from original paintings by native +artists. The frontispiece, representing the Marriage of Washington, +appeals forcibly to the national sentiment, and is an appropriate +embellishment for a work dedicated to a large and increasing fraternity, +whose principles are in admirable harmony with those of our free +institutions. + +_Haw-Ho-Noo, or, Records of a Tourist_, by CHARLES LANMAN, published by +Lippincott, Grambo and Co., under an inappropriate title, presents many +lively and agreeable descriptions of adventures in various journeys in +different parts of the United States. The author has a keen sense of the +beauties of nature, is always at home in the forest or at the side of +the mountain stream, and tells all sorts of stories about trout, salmon, +beavers, maple-sugar, rattle-snakes, and barbecues, with a heart-felt +unction that is quite contagious. As a writer of simple narrative, his +imagination sometimes outstrips his discretion, but every one who reads +his book will admit that he is not often surpassed for the fresh and +racy character of his anecdotes. + +_The Autobiography of Leigh Hunt_, published by Harper and Brothers, as +our readers may judge from the specimens given in a former number of +this Magazine, is one of the most charming works that have lately been +issued from the English press. Leigh Hunt so easily falls into the +egotistic and ridiculous, that it is a matter of wonder how he has +escaped from them to so great a degree in the present volumes. His +vanity seems to have been essentially softened by the experience of +life, the asperities of his nature greatly worn away, and his mind +brought under the influence of a kindly and genial humor. With his rare +mental agility, his susceptibility to many-sided impressions, and his +catholic sympathy with almost every phase of character and intellect, he +could not fail to have treasured up a rich store of reminiscences, and +his personal connection with the most-celebrated literary men of his +day, gives them a spirit and flavor, which could not have been obtained +by the mere records of his individual biography. The work abounds with +piquant anecdotes of Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, Byron, Keats, Lamb, +Hazlitt, and Moore--gives a detailed exposition of Hunt's connection +with the Examiner, and his imprisonment for libel--his residence in +Italy--his return to England--and his various literary projects--and +describes with the most childlike frankness the present state of his +opinions and feelings on the manifold questions which have given a +direction to his intellectual activity through life. Whatever +impressions it may leave as to the character of the author, there can be +but one opinion as to the fascination of his easy, sprightly, gossiping +style, and the interest which attaches to the literary circles, whose +folding-doors he not ungracefully throws open. + +The _United States Railroad Guide and Steam-boat Journal_, by Holbrook +and Company, is one of the best manuals for the use of travelers now +issued by the monthly press, containing a great variety of valuable +information, in a neat and portable form. + +_Hints to Young Men on the True Relation of the Sexes_, by JOHN WARE, +M.D., is a brief treatise, prepared by a distinguished scientific man of +Boston, in which an important subject is treated with delicacy, good +sense, and an earnest spirit. It is published by Tappan, Whittimore, and +Mason, Boston. + +Among the publications of the last month by Lippincott, Grambo, and +Company, is the _Iris_, an elegant illuminated souvenir, edited by +Professor JOHN S. HART, and comprising literary contributions from +distinguished American authors, several of whom, we notice, are from the +younger class of writers, who have already won a proud and enviable fame +by the admirable productions of their pens. In addition to the +well-written preface by the Editor, we observe original articles by +STODDARD, BOKER, CAROLINE MAY, ALICE CAREY, PHEBE CAREY, Rev. CHARLES T. +BROOKS, MARY SPENSER PEASE, EDITH MAY, ELIZA A. STARR, KATE CAMPBELL, +and others, most of which are superior specimens of the lighter form of +periodical literature. The volume is embellished with exquisite beauty, +containing four brilliantly illuminated pages, and eight line +engravings, executed in the highest style of London art. We are pleased +to welcome so beautiful a work from the spirited and intelligent house +by which it is issued, as a promise that it will sustain the well-earned +reputation of the old establishment of Grigg, Elliot, and Co., of which +it is the successor. The head of that firm, Mr. JOHN GRIGG, we may take +this occasion to remark, presents as striking a history as can be +furnished by the records of bookselling in this country. Commencing life +without the aid of any external facilities, and obtaining the highest +eminence in his profession, by a long career of industry, enterprise, +and ability, he has retired from active business with an ample fortune, +and the universal esteem of a large circle of friends. We trust that his +future years may be as happy, as his busy life has been exemplary and +prosperous. + +George P. Putnam has published _The Chronicle of the Conquest of +Granada_, by WASHINGTON IRVING, forming the fourteenth volume of the +beautiful revised edition of Irving's collected works. Since the first +publication of this romantic prose-poem, the fictitious dress, in which +the inventive fancy of the author had arrayed the story, had been made +the subject of somewhat stringent criticism; Fray Antonio Agapida had +been found to belong to a Spanish branch of the family of Diedrich +Knickerbocker; and doubts were thus cast over the credibility of the +whole veracious chronicle. Mr. Irving extricates himself from the +dilemma with his usual graceful ingenuity. In a characteristic note to +this edition, he explains the circumstances in which the history had its +origin, and shows conclusively that whatever dimness may be thrown over +the identity of the worthy Fray Antonio, the work itself was constructed +from authentic documents, and is faithful in all its essential points to +historical fact. While occupied at Madrid in writing the life of +Columbus, Mr. Irving was strongly impressed with the rich materials +presented by the war of Granada, for a composition which should blend +the interest of romance with the fidelity of history. Alive as he always +is to picturesque effect, he was struck with the contrast presented by +the combatants of Oriental and European creeds, costumes, and manners; +with the hairbrained enterprises, chivalric adventures, and wild forays +through mountain regions; and with the moss-trooping assaults on +cliff-built castles and cragged fortresses, which succeeded each other +with dazzling brilliancy and variety. Fortunately in the well-stored +libraries of Madrid, he had access to copious and authentic chronicles, +often in manuscript, written at the time by eye-witnesses, and in some +instances, by persons who had been actually engaged in the scenes +described. At a subsequent period, after completing the Life of +Columbus, he made an extensive tour in Andalusia, visiting the ruins of +the Moorish towns, fortresses, and castles, and the wild mountain +passes, which had been the principal theatre of the war, and passing +some time in the stately old palace of the Alhambra, the once favorite +abode of the Moorish monarchs. With this preparation, he finished the +manuscript of which he had already drawn up the general outline, +adopting the fiction of a Spanish monk as the chronicler of the history. +By this innocent stratagem, Mr. Irving intended to personify in Fray +Antonio the monkish zealots who made themselves busy in the campaigns, +marring the chivalry of the camp by the bigotry of the cloister, and +exulting in every act of intolerance toward the Moors. + +This ingenious explanation will give a fresh interest to the present +edition. The costume of the garrulous Agapida is still retained, +although the narrative is reduced more strictly within historical +bounds, and is enriched with new facts that have been recently brought +to light by the erudite researches of Alcantara and other diligent +explorers of this romantic field. With excellent taste, the publisher +has issued this volume in a style of typographical elegance not unworthy +the magnificent paragraphs of the golden-mouthed author. + +_The Life and Times of General John Lamb_, by ISAAC Q. LEAKE, published +at Albany by J. Munsell, is an important contribution to the history of +the Revolution, compiled from original documents, many of which possess +great interest. + +_Progress in the Northwest_ is the title of the Annual Discourse +delivered before the Historical Society of Ohio, by the President, +WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, and published by H. W. Derby and Co., Cincinnati. +It gives a rapid description of the progress of cultivation and +improvement in the Northwestern portion of the United States, showing +the giant steps which have been taken, especially, within the last +twenty years, on that broad and fertile domain. The conditions of future +advancement are also discussed in the spirit of philosophical analysis, +and with occasional touches of genuine eloquence. + +EDWARD EVERETT'S _Oration at the Celebration of the Battle of Bunker +Hill_, published by Redding and Co., Boston, describes some of the +leading incidents in that opening scene of the American Revolution, and +is distinguished for the rhetorical felicity, the picturesque beauty of +expression, and the patriotic enthusiasm which have given a wide +celebrity to the anniversary performances of the author. Its flowing +melody of style, combined with the impressive tones and graceful manner +of the speaker, enables us to imagine the effect which is said to have +been produced by its delivery. The ability exhibited in Mr. EVERETT'S +expressive and luminous narrative, if devoted to an elaborate +historical composition, would leave him with but few rivals in this +department of literature. + +_Oration before the Phi Beta Kappa Society_ of Harvard University, by +TIMOTHY WALKER, published by James Munroe and Co., Boston, is a +temperate discussion of the Reform Spirit of the day, abounding in +salutary cautions and judicious discriminations. The style of the +Oration savors more of the man of affairs than of the practical writer, +and its good sense and moderate tone must have commended it to the +cultivated audience before which it was delivered. + +_The Poem on the American Legend_, by BAYARD TAYLOR, pronounced on the +same occasion, and published by John Bartlett, Cambridge, is a graceful +portraiture of the elements of romance and poetry in the traditions of +our country, and contains passages of uncommon energy of versification, +expressing a high order of moral and patriotic sentiment. His allusion +to the special legends of different localities are very felicitous in +their tone, and the tribute to the character of the lamented President +is a fine instance of the condensation and forcible brevity which Mr. +Taylor commands with eminent success. + +A useful and seasonable work, entitled _Europe, Past and Present_, by +FRANCIS H. UNGEWITTER, LL.D., has been issued by G. P. Putnam, which +will be found to contain a mass of information, carefully arranged and +digested, of great service to the student of European Geography and +History. The author, who is a native German, has published several +extensive geographical works in his own country, which have given him +the reputation of a sound and accurate scholar in that department of +research. He appears to have made a faithful and discriminating use of +the abundant materials at his command, and has produced a work which can +not fail to do him credit in his adopted land. + +_The Architecture of Country Houses_, by A. J. DOWNING, published by D. +Appleton and Co., is from the pen of a writer whose former productions +entitle him to the rank of a standard authority on the attractive +subject of the present volume. Mr. Downing has certainly some uncommon +qualifications for the successful accomplishment of his task, which +requires no less practical experience and knowledge than a sound and +cultivated taste. He is familiar with the best publications of previous +authors; his pursuits, have led him to a thorough appreciation of the +wants and capabilities of country life; he has been trained by the +constant influence of rural scenes; and with an eye keenly susceptible +to the effect of proportion and form, he brings the refinements of true +culture and the suggestions of a vigilant common-sense to the +improvement of Rural Architecture, which he wishes to see in harmony +with the grand and beautiful scenery of this country. His remarks in the +commencement of the volume, with regard to the general significance of +architecture are worthy of profound attention. A due observance of the +principles, which he eloquently sets forth, would rescue the fine +localities for which nature has done so much from the monstrosities in +wood and brick with which they are so often deformed. His discussion of +the materials and modes of construction are of great practical value. +With the abundance of designs which he presents, for every style of +rural building, and the careful estimates of the expense, no one who +proposes to erect a house in the country can fail to derive great +advantage from consulting his well-written and interesting pages. + +Tallis, Willoughby, & Co. are publishing as serials the _Adventures of +Don Quixote_, translated by JARVIS, and the _Complete Works of +Shakspeare_, edited by JAMES ORCHARD HALLIWELL. The Don Quixote is a +cheap edition, embellished with wood cuts by Tony Johannot. The +Shakspeare is illustrated with steel engravings by Rogers, Heath, +Finden, and Walker, from designs by Henry Warren, Edward Corbould, and +other English artists who are favorably known to the public. It is +intended that this edition shall contain all the writings ascribed to +the immortal dramatist, without distinction, including not only the +Poems and well-authenticated Plays, but also the Plays of doubtful +origin, or of which Shakspeare is supposed to have been only in part the +author. + +Herrman J. Meyer, a German publisher in this city, is issuing an edition +of MEYER'S _Universum_, a splendid pictorial work, which is to appear in +monthly parts, each containing four engravings on steel, and twelve of +them making an annual volume with forty-eight plates. They consist of +the most celebrated views of natural scenery, and of rare works of art, +selected from prominent objects of interest in every part of the globe. +The first number contains an engraving of Bunker Hill Monument, the +_Ecole Nationale_ at Paris, Rousseau's Hermitage at Montmorency, and the +Royal Palace at Munich, besides a well-executed vignette on the +title-page and cover. The letter-press descriptions by the author are +retained in the original language, which, in a professed American +edition, is an injudicious arrangement, serving to limit the circulation +of the work, in a great degree, to Germans, and to those familiar with +the German language. + +Mrs. CROWE'S _Night Side of Nature_, published by J. S. Redfield, is +another contribution to the literature of Ghosts and Ghost-Seers, which, +like the furniture and costume of the middle ages, seems to be coming +into fashion with many curious amateurs of novelties. The reviving taste +for this kind of speculation is a singular feature of the age, showing +the prevalence of a dissatisfied and restless skepticism, rather than an +enlightened and robust faith in spiritual realities. Mrs. Crowe is a +decided, though gentle advocate of the preternatural character of the +marvelous phenomena, of which probably every country and age presents a +more or less extended record. She has collected a large mass of +incidents, which have been supposed to bear upon the subject, many of +which were communicated to her on personal authority, and were first +brought to the notice of the public in her volume. She has pursued her +researches, with incredible industry, into the traditions of various +nations, making free use of the copious erudition of the Germans in this +department, and arranging the facts or legends she has obtained with a +certain degree of historical criticism, that gives a value to her work +as an illustration of national beliefs, without reference to its +character as a _hortus siccus_ of weird and marvelous stories. In point +of style, her volume is unexceptionable; its spirit is modest and +reverent; it can not be justly accused of superstition, though it +betrays a womanly instinct for the supernatural: and without being +imbued with any love of dogmas, breathes an unmistakable atmosphere of +purity and religious trust. The study of this subject can not be +recommended to the weak-minded and timorous, but an omnivorous digestion +may find a wholesome exercise of its capacity in Mrs. Crowe's tough +revelations. + +A volume of Discourses, entitled _Christian Thoughts on Life_, by HENRY +GILES, has been published by Ticknor, Reed, and Fields, Boston, +consisting of a series of elaborate essays, intended to gather into a +compact form some fragments of moral experience, and to give a certain +record and order to the author's desultory studies of man's interior +life. Among the subjects of which it treats are The Worth of Life, the +Continuity of Life, the Discipline of Life, Weariness of Life, and +Mystery in Religion and in Life. The views presented by Mr. Giles are +evidently the fruit of profound personal reflection; they glow with the +vitality of experience; and in their tender and pleading eloquence will +doubtless commend themselves to many human sympathies. Mr. Giles has +been hitherto most favorably known to the public in this country, as a +brilliant rhetorician, and an original and piquant literary critic; in +the present volume, he displays a rare mastery of ethical analysis and +deduction. + +W. Phillips & Co., Cincinnati, have issued an octavo volume of nearly +seven hundred pages, composed of _Lectures on the American Eclectic +System of Surgery_, by BENJAMIN L. HILL, M.D., with over one hundred +illustrative engravings. It is based on the principles of the medical +system of which the author is a distinguished practitioner. + +The _National Temperance Offering_, edited by S. F. Cary, and published +by R. Vandien, is got up in an expensive style, and is intended as a +gift-book worthy the patronage of the advocates of the Temperance +Reform. In addition to a variety of contributions both in prose and +poetry from several able writers, it contains biographical sketches of +some distinguished Temperance men, accompanied with their portraits, +among whom we notice Rev. Dr. Beecher, Horace Greeley, John H. Hawkins, +T. P. Hunt, and others. + + + + +Fashions for Early Autumn. + + +[Illustration: FIG. 1.--PROMENADE DRESS.] + +[Illustration: FIG. 2.--COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.] + +FIG 1. A PROMENADE DRESS of a beautiful lavender _taffetas_, the front +of the skirt trimmed with folds of the same, confined at regular +distances with seven flutes of lavender gauze ribbon, put on the reverse +of the folds; a double fluted frilling, rather narrow, encircles the +opening of the body, which is made high at the back, and closed in the +front with a fluting of ribbon similar to that on the skirt; _demi-long_ +sleeves, cut up in a kind of wave at the back, so as to show the under +full sleeve of spotted white muslin. Chemisette of fulled muslin, +confined with bands of needlework. Scarf of white China _crape_, +beautifully embroidered, and finished with a deep, white, silk fringe. +Drawn _capote_ of pink _crape_, adorned in the interior with +half-wreaths of green myrtle. + +FIG. 2. COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY.--A dress of white _barege_ trimmed +with three deep vandyked flounces put on close to each other; high body, +formed of worked inlet, finished with a stand-up row round the throat; +the sleeves descend as low as the elbow, where they are finished with +two deep frillings, vandyked similar to the flounces. Half-long gloves +of straw-colored kid, surmounted with a bracelet of black velvet. Drawn +_capote_ of white _crape_, adorned with clusters of the _rose de mott_ +both in the interior and exterior. _Pardessus_ of pink _glace_ silk, +trimmed with three frillings of the same, edged with a narrow silk +fringe, which also forms a heading to the same; over each hip is a +trimming _en tablier_ formed of the fringe; short sleeves, trimmed with +one fulling edged with fringe; these sleeves are of the same piece as +the cape, not cut separate; the trimming over the top of the arms being +similar to that under, and formed also of fringe; this _pardessus_ is +perfectly round in its form, and only closes just upon the front of the +waist. + +MORNING CAPS which are slightly ornamented, vary more in the way in +which they are trimmed, than in the positive form; some being trimmed +with _chicorees_, wreaths of gauze ribbon, or knobs of ribbon edged with +a festooned open-work encircling a simple round of _tulle_, or what is +perhaps prettier, a cluster of lace. A pretty form, differing a little +from the monotonous round, is composed of a round forming a star, the +points being cut off; these points are brought close together, and are +encircled with a narrow _bavolet_, the front part being formed so as to +descend just below the ears, approaching somewhat to the appearance of +the front of a capote. A pretty style of morning cap are those made of +India muslin, _a petit papillon_, flat, edged with a choice Mechlin +lace, and having three _ricochets_ and a bunch of fancy ribbon placed +upon each side, from which depend the _brides_ or strings. Others are +extremely pretty, made of the _applique_ lace, rich Mechlin, or +needlework, and are sometimes ornamented with flowers, giving a +lightness to their appearance. + +[Illustration: MORNING CAPS.] + +FIG. 4. MORNING COSTUME.--Dress and pardessus of printed cambric muslin, +the pattern consisting of wreaths and bouquets of flowers. Jupon of +plain, white cambric muslin, edged with a border of rich open +needlework. The sleeves of the pardessus are gathered up in front of the +arm. The white under-sleeves, which do not descend to the wrists, are +finished by two rows of vandyked needlework. A small needlework collar. +Lace cap of the round form, placed very backward on the head, and +trimmed with full coques of pink and green ribbon at each ear. + +[Illustration: FIG. 4--MORNING COSTUME.] + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + + +Minor errors in punctuation have been corrected without note. + +The following typographical errors have been corrected: + + Page Corrected Text Original had + 435 fine view of the Firth of Forth Frith + 439 when the curtains of the evening curttains + 456 so I couldn't sleep comfortable could'nt + 465 splendid creature on which he is mounted spendid + 486 ancient hilarity of the English peasant peasaat + 496 I shall not readily forget, readi- + 497 "They didn't think so at Enghein." did'nt + 507 Andrew to be out so late to to + 522 I was no sooner in bed was was + 524 Were murmuring to the moon! to to + 532 heavy frames, hung round the walls roung + 549 he is justly punished for his offenses punnished + 549 publisher gives L500 gives gives + 565 Progress of the World of of + 566 be very rich in gold be be + 567 published is WORDSWORTH'S posthumous WORDSWORT'S + +The following words with questionable spellings have been retained: +auspicies, dacent, dacency, Elizabethean, vleys. Variant spellings of +dillettanti and dilettanti have been retained. Inconsistent hyphenation +is as per the original. + +The following errors which can not be corrected were noted: + +On page 520, it appears that one or more lines may be missing from the +original here: + + "sulphur mixed with it--and they said, + Indeed it was putting a great affront on the" + +On page 560, in the paragraph starting "A communication from M. +Tremaux..." the protagonist is later referred to as M. Trevaux. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Volume +1, No. 4, September, 1850, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 31358.txt or 31358.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/3/5/31358/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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