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+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 ***
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+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/
+
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+
+
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+
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+<pre>
+
+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
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</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&rsquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;a Fragment.</a><br />
+<a href="#Fearful_Tragedy">Fearful Tragedy&mdash;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&mdash;Biographical Sketch.</a><br />
+<a href="#A_Chip_From_A_Sailors_Log">A Chip from a Sailor&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;t Trust His Wife.</a><br />
+<a href="#Little_Mary">Little Mary.&mdash;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&rsquo;s Posthumous Poem.</a><br />
+<a href="#The_literary_profession">The Literary Profession&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;S
+<br /><big>NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE.</big></h1>
+
+<h2><br />No. IV.&mdash;<span class="bb bt">SEPTEMBER, 1850</span>.&mdash;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
+&ldquo;celebrated women.&rdquo; Perhaps they mean that we have few who are
+&ldquo;notorious;&rdquo; 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: &ldquo;celebrity&rdquo; rarely adds to the
+happiness of a woman, and almost as rarely increases her usefulness. The
+time and attention required to attain &ldquo;celebrity,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;homes&rdquo;
+our heroes&mdash;statesmen&mdash;philosophers&mdash;men of letters&mdash;men of
+genius&mdash;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&mdash;the nourishment of all their
+higher aspirations&mdash;to a wise, hopeful, loving-hearted and
+faith-inspired mother; one who <em>believed</em> in a son&rsquo;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 &ldquo;Hero-feeling&rdquo;
+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 &ldquo;celebrated
+women,&rdquo; we may in general terms refer to those who have watched over,
+moulded, and inspired our &ldquo;celebrated&rdquo; men.</p>
+
+<p>Happy is the country where the laws of God and nature are held in
+reverence&mdash;where each sex fulfills its peculiar duties, and renders its
+sphere a sanctuary! and surely such harmony is blessed by the
+Almighty&mdash;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 &ldquo;celebrated&rdquo; 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&mdash;or dramatists&mdash;or moralists&mdash;or mere tale-tellers in simple
+prose&mdash;or, more dangerous still, &ldquo;hold the mirror up to nature&rdquo; on the
+stage that mimics life&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the blessed duties of
+<em>un</em>-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span>public life&mdash;that if she give nature way it will whisper to her a
+text that &ldquo;celebrity never added to the happiness of a true woman.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;clever,&rdquo; 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&mdash;and still have some&mdash;&ldquo;celebrated&rdquo; women of whom we
+have said &ldquo;we may be justly proud.&rdquo; We have done pilgrimage to the
+shrine of Lady Rachel Russell, who was so thoroughly &ldquo;domestic&rdquo; 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&mdash;Grace Aguilar. The mellow tones
+of Felicia Heman&rsquo;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&mdash;alas,
+alas! barely five-and-twenty years&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;celebrated&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Scottish Chiefs.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;popular edition&rdquo; of
+the long-loved romance, lest what people will call &ldquo;the improved state
+of the human mind,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Scottish Chiefs&rdquo; scarcely achieved the popularity of &ldquo;Thaddeus
+of Warsaw,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Thaddeus of Warsaw&rdquo; 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&mdash;all
+gentle-spirited as was her nature&mdash;it was firm and unflinching toward
+what she believed the right and true. We must not, therefore, judge her
+by the depressed state of &ldquo;feeling&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;awake,&rdquo;
+the British Lion had not slumbered through a thirty years&rsquo; 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&mdash;we really hardly know what to call
+it&mdash;literature of the present, made up, as it too generally is, of
+shreds and patches&mdash;bits of gold and bits of tinsel&mdash;things written in a
+hurry to be read in a hurry, and never thought of afterward&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s ingenious
+preface to the, we believe, tenth edition of &ldquo;Thaddeus of Warsaw.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;well born;&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Thaddeus of
+Warsaw&rdquo; was written in London, either in St. Martin&rsquo;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&rsquo;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
+&ldquo;home.&rdquo; The actual labor of &ldquo;Thaddeus&rdquo;&mdash;her first novel&mdash;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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;The Scottish Chiefs&rdquo; was never so popular on the
+continent as &ldquo;Thaddeus of Warsaw,&rdquo; 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
+&ldquo;The Scottish Chiefs,&rdquo; her enthusiasm in the cause of Sir William
+Wallace to the influence of an old &ldquo;Scotch wife&rsquo;s&rdquo; tales and ballads
+produced upon her mind while in early childhood. She wandered amid what
+she describes as &ldquo;beautiful green banks,&rdquo; which rose in natural terraces
+behind her mother&rsquo;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 &ldquo;<em>gowans</em>&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;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,&rdquo; who, she never failed to add, &ldquo;were all rightly
+punished for oppressing the stranger in a foreign land! for the Lord
+careth for the stranger.&rdquo; Miss Porter says that this woman never omitted
+mingling pious allusions with her narrative, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Scottish Chiefs.&rdquo; To these two were added &ldquo;The
+Pastor&rsquo;s Fireside,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;Irish,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s pension to depend on. The eldest son&mdash;afterward
+Colonel Porter&mdash;was sent to school by his grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>We have
+glanced briefly at Sir Robert Ker Porter&rsquo;s wonderful talents, and Anna
+Maria, when in her twelfth year, rushed, as Jane acknowledged,
+&ldquo;prematurely into print.&rdquo; 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&mdash;we had
+said almost <em>peculiarly Irish</em>&mdash;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&rsquo;s gayety; they both
+labored diligently, but Anna Maria&rsquo;s labor was sport when compared to
+her elder sister&rsquo;s careful toil; Jane&rsquo;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 &ldquo;clever ladies&rdquo;
+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&mdash;their &ldquo;mother&rsquo;s cottage&rdquo;&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;there was
+neither personal nor family egotism in the Porters; they invariably
+spoke of each other with the tenderest affection&mdash;but unless the
+conversation was <em>forced</em> by their friends, they never mentioned their
+own, or each other&rsquo;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 &ldquo;young ladies&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s domain, inhabited during the
+days of his power over Henry VIII., and in their cloudy evening, when
+that capricious monarch&rsquo;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&mdash;the watchful tenderness and uncompromising love of a
+mother&mdash;ever &ldquo;replaced,&rdquo; to a lonely sister or a bereaved daughter! Miss
+Porter&rsquo;s pen had been laid aside for some time, when suddenly she came
+before the world as the editor of &ldquo;Sir Edward Seward&rsquo;s Narrative,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Quarterly&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;&ldquo;biding her time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 800px;">
+<img src="images/illo_02.png" width="800" height="612" alt="JANE PORTER&rsquo;S COTTAGE AT ESHER." title="JANE PORTER&rsquo;S COTTAGE AT ESHER." />
+<span class="caption">JANE PORTER&rsquo;S COTTAGE AT ESHER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>How differently would she have &ldquo;watched and waited&rdquo; had she been tainted
+by vanity, or fixed her soul on the mere triumphs of &ldquo;literary
+reputation.&rdquo; While firm to her own creed, she fully enjoyed the success
+of those who scramble up&mdash;where she bore the standard to the heights&mdash;of
+Parnassus; she was never more happy than when introducing some literary
+&ldquo;Tyro&rdquo; 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&rsquo; 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&mdash;it was then that her former spirit revived and she
+poured forth anecdote and illustration, and the store of many years&rsquo;
+observation, filtered by experience and purified by that delightful
+faith to which she held&mdash;that &ldquo;all things work together for good to them
+that love the Lord.&rdquo; 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&mdash;in Bristol&mdash;at her brother, Dr.
+Porter&rsquo;s house in Portland-square: then she could hardly stand without
+assistance, yet she never complained of her own suffering or
+feebleness&mdash;all her anxiety was about the brother&mdash;then dangerously ill,
+and now the last of &ldquo;his race.&rdquo; Major Porter, it will be remembered,
+left five children, and these have left only one descendant&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;
+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 &ldquo;Mrs. Porter&rsquo;s
+Arcadia&rdquo; at Thames Ditton&mdash;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>&ldquo;Whenever you are at Esher,&rdquo; said the devoted daughter, the last time we
+conversed with her, &ldquo;do visit my mother&rsquo;s tomb.&rdquo; 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, &AElig;TAT. 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: &ldquo;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>.&rdquo; We pray those we love, to mark the
+delicate and most true distinction, between &ldquo;society&rdquo; and the &ldquo;world.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;I was set on a stage,&rdquo; continued De Stael, &ldquo;I was set on a stage, at a
+child&rsquo;s age, to be listened to as a wit and worshiped for my premature
+judgment. I drank adulation as my soul&rsquo;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&rdquo; (her daughter.) &ldquo;She shall not
+</p>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Seek for love, and fill her arms with bays.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+<p>
+I bring her up in the best society, yet in the shade.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;Miranda,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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">&ldquo;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.&rdquo;<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&rsquo;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 a&euml;rolites is applied, signifying
+atmospheric stones, from &#945;&#951;&#961;, the atmosphere, and &#955;&#953;&#952;&#959;&#962;, 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 a&euml;rolites, 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 tomb&eacute;es du Ciel</span>, exhibits
+a collection of instances of the fall of a&euml;rolites, 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 A&euml;rolite 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;">&mdash;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>P&egrave;re la Fuill&eacute;e.</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>Siegesb&aelig;r.</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, &amp;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 Dr&eacute;e.</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, &amp;c.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Shower of stones</td><td>Barboutan, near Roquefort</td><td>July 1789</td><td>Darcet Jun., Lomet, &amp;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 Dr&eacute;e.</td></tr>
+<tr><td>Several stones from 10 to 17lbs.</td><td>Near L&rsquo;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>&ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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.&rdquo; Contemporary writers confirm the substance of this
+narration, and the evidence of the fact exists; the a&euml;rolite 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&rsquo;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">proc&egrave;s</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: &ldquo;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&rsquo;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.&rdquo; 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 a&euml;rolite 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&rsquo;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, Alen&ccedil;on, 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 a&euml;rolites,
+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 a&euml;rolites 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&rsquo;s<span class="rtcol">3456</span><br />
+Yorkshire<span class="rtcol">3508</span><br />
+Bachelay&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &rdquo;</span><br />
+Iron<span class="rtcol">45 &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &rdquo;</span><br />
+Nickel<span class="rtcol">&nbsp; 2 &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &rdquo;</span><br />
+Sulphur<span class="rtcol">&nbsp; 5 &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &rdquo;</span><br />
+Zinc<span class="rtcol">&nbsp; 1 &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &rdquo;</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&rsquo;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
+a&euml;rolites, 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 a&euml;rolites fell at
+Braunau, in Bohemia, July 14, 1847.</p>
+
+<p>In addition to a&euml;rolites, 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
+a&euml;rolites 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&rsquo;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, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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 a&euml;rolites 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&rsquo;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, a&euml;rolites, 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&mdash;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&mdash;a brilliant and astonishing exhibition&mdash;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 &ldquo;In this year (1029 of our era) in the month Redjeb
+(August) many stars passed, with a great noise, and brilliant light;&rdquo;
+and in another place the same document states: &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;falling
+like a shower of rain from heaven upon the earth;&rdquo; and in another case,
+a bystander, having noted the spot where an a&euml;rolite fell, &ldquo;cast water
+upon it, which was raised in steam, with a great noise of boiling.&rdquo; The
+chronicle of Rheims describes the appearance, as if all the stars in
+heaven were driven like dust before the wind. &ldquo;By the reporte of the
+common people, in this kynge&rsquo;s time (William Rufus),&rdquo; says Rastel,
+&ldquo;divers great wonders were sene&mdash;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.&rdquo; 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: &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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> &ldquo;I was called up about three o&rsquo;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.&rdquo; 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 a&euml;rolites&mdash;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; &ldquo;From one o&rsquo;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.&rdquo; 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&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&mdash;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>&ldquo;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, &lsquo;O my God, the world is on fire!&rsquo; I
+then opened the door, and it is difficult to say which excited me most
+&mdash;the awfulness of the scene, or the distressed cries of the negroes.
+Upward of one hundred lay prostrate on the ground&mdash;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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:&mdash;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. &ldquo;I was startled,&rdquo; he remarks, &ldquo;by the
+splendid light in which the surrounding scene was exhibited, rendering
+even small objects quite visible.&rdquo; 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 &#947; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 a&euml;rolites. 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,
+a&euml;rolites, 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&rsquo; 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 G&ouml;tz 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
+M&auml;rchen</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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo; 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&mdash;the castle of the
+Wild Huntsman&mdash;the traditions of the followers of Odin&mdash;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&rsquo;s <span class="for" lang="de" xml:lang="de">Kinder und Haus M&auml;rchen</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">K&auml;ringen 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&rsquo;clock in the morning and staid till eight, had an hour&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;nay, ages&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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 J&auml;gerhaus 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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">M&auml;rchen</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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;so well was I pleased with him&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not through life&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s decline&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wealth blind with its excess<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">&rsquo;Mid far-diffused distress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pride that kills, professing to refine&mdash;<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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The joyful faith thus stirred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shot like Heaven&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo; 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&mdash;&mdash;. I then
+learned that my venerable acquaintance was one whose name was known far
+and wide&mdash;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>&ldquo;What do you think, my friend, of the actual future destiny of the&mdash;?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;You were then at my chapel last night?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was,&rdquo; I replied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sorry&mdash;I am sorry,&rdquo; he said, rising with a sigh. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span>&ldquo;It has been a
+pleasant time, but it is ended. Good-by, my dear young friend, and may
+God bless you!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He turned silently but quickly away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; I cried. &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;d ground.<br /></span>
+<span class="attrib"><span class="smcap">Tennyson&rsquo;s</span> &ldquo;<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">In Memoriam</span>&rdquo;.</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&rsquo;s Household Words.]</p>
+
+<h2>UGLINESS REDEEMED&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;&ldquo;Two white skins, and a
+tor&rsquo;shell-un.&rdquo;</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&mdash;a sort of great-grandson by mutual adoption&mdash;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&mdash;with hands clasped and
+hanging down in front of him, and eyes bent vacantly upon his hands&mdash;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&mdash;but in <em>what</em> a position! A scholar, a man of wit, of
+high sentiment, of refinement, and a good fortune withal&mdash;now by a
+sudden &ldquo;turn of law&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&rsquo;
+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 &ldquo;soft-ware&rdquo; and the &ldquo;hard-ware,&rdquo; are
+very important. The former includes all vegetable and animal
+matters&mdash;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, &amp;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 &ldquo;hard-ware&rdquo; includes all broken
+pottery, pans, crockery, earthenware, oyster-shells, &amp;c., which are sold
+to make new roads.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The bones&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;rags,&rdquo; the woolen rags are bagged and sent off for hop-manure; the
+white linen rags are washed, and sold to make paper, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>The &ldquo;tin things&rdquo; 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, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>Bits of old brass, lead, &amp;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, &amp;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 &ldquo;coppers.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;When I was a young girl,&rdquo; said Peg Dotting&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a long while ago, Peggy,&rdquo; interrupted one of the sifters: but
+Peg did not hear her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When I was quite a young thing,&rdquo; continued she, addressing old John
+Doubleyear, who threw up the dust into her sieve, &ldquo;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&mdash;don&rsquo;t throw up the dust so
+high, John&mdash;but I lived only a few doors lower down from those as <em>did</em>.
+Don&rsquo;t throw up the dust so high, I tell &rsquo;ee&mdash;the wind takes it into my
+face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! There! What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s cart. He made a
+dive and a search&mdash;then another&mdash;then one deeper still. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m <em>sure</em> I
+saw it!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;What did you see, Jemmy?&rdquo; asked old Doubleyear, in a compassionate
+tone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; said the boy, &ldquo;only it was like a bit of something
+made of real gold!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said one of the sifters, &ldquo;poor Jem&rsquo;s always a-fancying something
+or other good&mdash;but it never comes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Didn&rsquo;t I find three cats this morning!&rdquo; cried Jem; &ldquo;two on &rsquo;em white
+&rsquo;uns! How you go on!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I meant something quite different from the like o&rsquo; that,&rdquo; said the
+other; &ldquo;I was a-thinking of the rare sights all you three there have
+had, one time and another.&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;company,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;I had a bad night of it with the rats some years ago&mdash;they run&rsquo;d all
+over the floor, and over the bed, and one on &rsquo;em come&rsquo;d and guv a squeak
+close into my ear&mdash;so I couldn&rsquo;t sleep comfortable. I wouldn&rsquo;t ha&rsquo;
+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&rsquo;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&mdash;I can&rsquo;t
+say what it was, in course&mdash;a bit of his-self, I suppose. It was just
+like him&mdash;a bit on him, I mean&mdash;quite as bright&mdash;just the same&mdash;only not
+so big. And not up in the sky, but a-lying and sparkling all on fire
+upon the dust-heap. Thinks I&mdash;I was a younger man then by some years
+than I am now&mdash;I&rsquo;ll go and have a nearer look. Though you be a bit o&rsquo;
+the sun, maybe you won&rsquo;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&mdash;and as he went out-like, so the young &rsquo;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 &rsquo;cept a bit o&rsquo; broken glass as had
+got stuck in the heel of an old shoe. And that&rsquo;s my story. But if ever a
+man saw any thing at all, I saw a bit o&rsquo; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Peggy!&rdquo; cried several voices, &ldquo;tell us what you saw. Peg saw a bit
+o&rsquo; the moon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said Mrs. Dotting, rather indignantly; &ldquo;I&rsquo;m no moon-raker. Not a
+sign of the moon was there, nor a spark of a star&mdash;the time I speak on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well&mdash;go on, Peggy&mdash;go on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know as I will,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;There was no moon, nor stars, nor comet, in the &rsquo;versal heavens, nor
+lamp nor lantern along the road, when I walked home one winter&rsquo;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&rsquo;t let
+him &rsquo;cause of his sore throat. Throat!&mdash;no, it wasn&rsquo;t his throat as was
+rare sore&mdash;it was&mdash;no, it wasn&rsquo;t&mdash;yes, it was&mdash;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&rsquo;d be sure to have a bad toe, if he didn&rsquo;t go to church more regular,
+but he wouldn&rsquo;t listen; and so my words come&rsquo;d true. But, as I was
+a-saying, I wouldn&rsquo;t let him light me with the lantern by reason of his
+sore throat&mdash;<em>toe</em>, I mean&mdash;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&rsquo;t matter for the darkness. Hows&rsquo;ever, when I come&rsquo;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&rsquo;t tell one from t&rsquo;other.
+So, thinks I to myself&mdash;<em>what</em> was I thinking of at this moment?&mdash;for
+the life o&rsquo; me I can&rsquo;t call it to mind; but that&rsquo;s neither here nor
+there, only for this&mdash;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&mdash;as stock-still as any I don&rsquo;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&mdash;and then a little
+nearer still&mdash;for, says I to myself, I&rsquo;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&mdash;which have been numerous; and once I had a
+very heavy backsliding&mdash;but that&rsquo;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&mdash;little
+furder&mdash;and a leetle furder more&mdash;<em>un</em>-til I come&rsquo;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&mdash;in case it
+might burn, or bite&mdash;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!&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;s head, and its two black
+eyes poked up at me with a long stare&mdash;and I may say, a strong smell
+too&mdash;enough to knock a poor body down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Great applause, and no little laughter, followed the conclusion of old
+Peggy&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+head at home.</p>
+
+<p>Little Jem&rsquo;s turn now came; the poor lad was, however, so excited by the
+recollection of what his companions called &ldquo;Jem&rsquo;s Ghost,&rdquo; that he was
+unable to describe it in any coherent language. To his imagination it
+had been a lovely vision&mdash;the one &ldquo;bright consummate flower&rdquo; 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 &rsquo;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!&mdash;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, &ldquo;I see
+the right way!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;to try and find the owner,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s check for
+a considerable sum was found in one of them. It was on Herries and
+Farquhar, in 1847. But bankers&rsquo; 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&mdash;before his
+promotion&mdash;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 &ldquo;rough soot,&rdquo; which, being sifted, is then called &ldquo;fine soot,&rdquo;
+and is sold to farmers for manuring and preserving wheat and turnips.
+This is more especially used in Herefordshire, Bedfordshire, Essex, &amp;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Why, if there isn&rsquo;t a man&rsquo;s head in the canal!&rdquo; suddenly cried little
+Jem. &ldquo;Looky there!&mdash;isn&rsquo;t that a man&rsquo;s head?&mdash;Yes; it&rsquo;s a drowndedd
+man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A drowndedd man, as I live!&rdquo; ejaculated old Doubleyear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s get him out, and see!&rdquo; cried Peggy. &ldquo;Perhaps the poor soul&rsquo;s not
+quite gone.&rdquo;</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&mdash;scrambled down
+up to her knees in the canal&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;There now,&rdquo; ejaculated Peggy, sitting down with a long puff to recover
+her breath, &ldquo;he&rsquo;ll lie very comfortable, whether or no.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Couldn&rsquo;t lie better,&rdquo; said old Doubleyear, &ldquo;even if he knew it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The three now seated themselves close by, to await the result.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought I&rsquo;d a lost him,&rdquo; said Jem, &ldquo;and myself too; and when I pulled
+Daddy in arter me, I guv us all three up for this world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Doubleyear, &ldquo;it must have gone queer with us if Peggy had
+not come in with the rake. How d&rsquo;yee feel, old girl; for you&rsquo;ve had a
+narrow escape too. I wonder we were not too heavy for you, and so pulled
+you in to go with us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Lord be praised!&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;Poor dear soul!&rdquo; whispered
+Peggy, &ldquo;how he suffers in surviving. Lift him up a little. Softly. Don&rsquo;t
+be afeared. We&rsquo;re only your good angels, like&mdash;only poor
+cinder-sifters&mdash;don&rsquo;tee be afeared.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>By various kindly attentions and man&#339;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&mdash;now looking in the anxious, though
+begrimed, faces of the three strange objects, all in their &ldquo;weeds&rdquo; and
+dust&mdash;and then up at the huge dust-heap, over which the moon was now
+slowly rising.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Land of quiet Death!&rdquo; murmured he, faintly, &ldquo;or land of Life, as dark
+and still&mdash;I have passed from one into the other; but which of ye I am
+now in, seems doubtful to my senses.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here we are, poor gentleman,&rdquo; cried Peggy, &ldquo;here we are, all friends
+about you. How did &rsquo;ee tumble into the canal?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Earth, then, once more!&rdquo; said the stranger, with a deep sigh. &ldquo;I
+know where I am, now. I remember this great dark hill of ashes&mdash;like
+Death&rsquo;s kingdom, full of all sorts of strange things, and put to many
+uses.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where do you live?&rdquo; asked old Doubleyear; &ldquo;shall we try and take you
+home, sir?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Run, Jemmy dear&mdash;run with that golden thing to Mr. Spikechin, the
+pawnbroker&rsquo;s&mdash;get something upon it directly, and buy some nice
+brandy&mdash;and some Godfrey&rsquo;s cordial&mdash;and a blanket, Jemmy&mdash;and call a
+coach, and get up outside on it, and make the coachee drive back here as
+fast as you can.&rdquo;</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&mdash;turned it about once or twice&mdash;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&mdash;a very
+accomplished young lady&mdash;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&rsquo;s
+hand, she having already expressed her hopes of a propitious answer from
+her father.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; said the latter, &ldquo;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&rsquo;ll make you both an
+offer. I will give my daughter twenty thousand pounds&mdash;or you shall have
+the dust-heap. Choose!&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said her father, laughing, &ldquo;then there&rsquo;s the
+money.&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;very moral of him;&rdquo; as like him as
+pea to pea. He has a tolerable share of his good qualities; and as for
+his prejudices&mdash;oh, they are his meat and drink, and the very clothes
+he wears. He is made up of prejudices&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;t go too
+near&mdash;don&rsquo;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&mdash;</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&mdash;&rsquo;tis the only
+country on the earth that is worth calling a country; and he loves the
+constitution. But don&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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
+&ldquo;fear God and honor the king;&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;envy and admiration of our glorious
+constitution.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s time, so long as they go to church, and don&rsquo;t
+happen to be asleep there when he is awake himself; and don&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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? &rsquo;Tis not to be supposed. Besides, of what family is this
+dissenting minister? Where does he spring from? At what university did
+he graduate? &rsquo;Twon&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;s milk, and wouldn&rsquo;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&rsquo;s port and &ldquo;mother&rsquo;s milk.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s
+house; and he comes in and out of the squire&rsquo;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&rsquo;s old lady says,
+&ldquo;How <em>can</em> you do so, Mr. Wagstaff?&rdquo; he only gives a quiet, chuckling
+laugh, and says, &ldquo;Oh, they like it, madam; they like it, you may
+depend.&rdquo; That is the longest speech he ever makes, for he seldom does
+more than say &ldquo;yes&rdquo; and &ldquo;no&rdquo; to what is said to him, and still oftener
+gives only a quiet smile and a soft of little nasal &ldquo;hum.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s constant companion.</p>
+
+<p>But we have not yet done with the squire&rsquo;s antiquities. He has an old
+woodman, an old shepherd, an old justice&rsquo;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 &ldquo;a dear old
+gentleman.&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;Aha,
+Mary! I know you, there! I can tell you by your mother&rsquo;s eyes and lips
+that you&rsquo;ve stole away from her. Ay, you&rsquo;re a pretty slut enough, but I
+remember your mother. Gad! I don&rsquo;t know whether you are entitled to
+carry her slippers after her! But never mind, you&rsquo;re handsome enough;
+and I reckon you&rsquo;re going to be married directly. Well, well, I won&rsquo;t
+make you blush; so, good-by, Mary, good-by! Father and mother are both
+hearty&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The routine of the old squire&rsquo;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&rsquo;s &ldquo;Heraldry,&rdquo; the
+&ldquo;History of the Landed Gentry,&rdquo; Rapin&rsquo;s &ldquo;History of England,&rdquo; 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.
+&ldquo;Lord, how different it was in my time!&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;Just,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;as a sober gentleman is riding quietly by the
+side of his wood, bang! goes that &lsquo;hell-in-harness,&rsquo; a steam-engine,
+past. Up goes the horse, down goes the rider to a souse in the ditch,
+and a broken collar bone.&rdquo;</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&mdash;d, beggarly,
+frog-eating Continent&mdash;not he! It was thought enough to live at home,
+and eat good roast beef, and sing &ldquo;God save the King,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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, &ldquo;What old family lives there?&rdquo; &ldquo;Old family!&rdquo; he
+exclaims, with an air of angry astonishment; &ldquo;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&rsquo; shops and cobblers&rsquo; stalls.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s side, is Abel Grundy, the son of an old wheelwright, who,
+by dint of his father&rsquo;s saving and his own sharpness, has grown into a
+man of substance under the squire&rsquo;s own nose. Abel began by buying odds
+and ends of lands and scattered cottages, which did not attract the
+squire&rsquo;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&rsquo;s hall-gates; has brought a grand wife&mdash;a rich citizen&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s low origin. &ldquo;Only to think,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;that this fellow&rsquo;s
+father hadn&rsquo;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&rsquo;s tail out of his ragged trowsers; and now the puppy talks of &lsquo;my
+carriage,&rsquo; and &lsquo;my footman,&rsquo; and says that &lsquo;he and <em>his lady purpose</em> to
+spend the winter in <em>the</em> town,&rsquo; meaning London!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Wagstaff laughs at the squire&rsquo;s little criticism on Abel Grundy, and
+shakes his head; but he can not shake the chagrin out of the old
+gentleman&rsquo;s heart. Abel Grundy&rsquo;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, &ldquo;Oh, it never was so in my day!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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">&eacute;clat</span>, he was destined by his father to a few years&rsquo; 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&rsquo;s brother, an old bachelor of
+immense wealth, died just in time, leaving Tom&rsquo;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">distingu&eacute;</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&mdash;the Lady Barbara Ridemdown. An earl&rsquo;s
+daughter was something in the world&rsquo;s eye; but such an earl&rsquo;s daughter
+as Lady Barbara, was the height of Tom&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+figure, and proud of his connections. &ldquo;Ah,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;Tom&rsquo;s a lad of
+spirit; he&rsquo;ll sow his wild oats, and come to his senses presently.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;s case, as in all others, you have only to know his
+companions to know him; and who are they but Chesterfield, Conyngham,
+D&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;Keepsake;&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Open Sesame!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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, &ldquo;What a
+thing is a title! if it were not for that, would all these people come
+to me?&rdquo; While Tom, who is member of parliament for the little borough of
+Dearish, most patriotically discharges his duty by pairing off&mdash;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. &ldquo;If they would but come,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;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!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old gentleman, moreover, is continually haranguing about Tom&rsquo;s folly
+and extravagance. It is his perpetual topic to his wife, and wife&rsquo;s
+maiden sister, and Wagstaff. Wagstaff only shakes his head, and says,
+&ldquo;Young blood! young blood!&rdquo; but Mrs. Chesselton and the maiden sister
+say, &ldquo;Oh! Mr. Chesselton, you don&rsquo;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.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;t do. He only says, &ldquo;If she&rsquo;d please
+me, she&rsquo;d give up that cursed opera-box. Why, the rent of that
+thing&mdash;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&mdash;the rent, I say, would maintain a
+parish rector, or keep half-a-dozen parish schools a-going.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;the matter may
+all be very fine, but he can make neither head nor tail of it.&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;Let Lady
+Barbara see this, and go to look at that.&rdquo; She can do any thing with
+him, except get him to London. &ldquo;London!&rdquo; he exclaims; &ldquo;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&rsquo;t what
+London used to be. It&rsquo;s too fine by half for a country squire, and would
+drive me distracted in twenty-four hours, with its everlasting noise and
+nonsense.&rdquo;</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&mdash;out come servants&mdash;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&rsquo;
+maids and nursemaids are crying out, &ldquo;Oh, take care of that trunk!&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Mind that ban&rsquo;-box!&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh, gracious! that is my lady&rsquo;s dressing-case; it
+will be down, and be totally ruined!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;as he always
+does on such occasions&mdash;to a farm-house on the verge of the estate. The
+hall, and the parsonage, and even the gardener&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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 &ldquo;the annual hurricane,&rdquo; 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&mdash;all from
+classic Italy&mdash;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>.&mdash;<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&rsquo;s Instructor.]</p>
+
+<h2>PRESENCE OF MIND&mdash;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>, &ldquo;Mind <em>this</em>!&rdquo; or, in other words, do not mind
+<em>that</em>&mdash;<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">non illud age</span>. The antithetic formula was &ldquo;<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">aliud</span> agere,&rdquo; to
+mind something alien, or remote from the interest then clamoring for
+attention. Our modern military orders of &ldquo;<em>Attention!</em>&rdquo; and &ldquo;<em>Eyes
+strait!</em>&rdquo; were both included in the &ldquo;<span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">Hoc age</span>.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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>)&mdash;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&mdash;<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 C&aelig;sar 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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;of the petty and
+the majestic.</p>
+
+<p>C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;&ldquo;Nil actum reputans, si
+quid superesset agendum.&rdquo; 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&mdash;&ldquo;Indocilis privata loqui.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There has been a disposition manifested among modern writers to disturb
+the traditional characters of C&aelig;sar and his chief antagonist.
+Audaciously to disparage C&aelig;sar, 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 C&aelig;sar. He alleged that C&aelig;sar 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&mdash;luxurious, it is true, but also
+effeminate in a degree never suspected at Rome until the next
+generation. The slight but summary contest of C&aelig;sar 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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;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 C&aelig;sar; 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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;a third numerically on the day of battle, but virtually a
+half. Even the rest of C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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 C&aelig;sar
+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&rsquo;s
+objection to the quality<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span> of C&aelig;sar&rsquo;s enemies falls away at once when it
+is collated with the deliberate composition of C&aelig;sar&rsquo;s own army. Besides
+that, C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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 C&aelig;sar. 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&mdash;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&rsquo;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 C&aelig;sar) 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&rsquo;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&mdash;that, while C&aelig;sar 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&#339;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. &ldquo;Check to the king!&rdquo; was heard in silent submission; and no
+further stratagem was invoked even in silent prayer, but the stratagem
+of flight. Yet C&aelig;sar 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
+C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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 C&aelig;sar had to face before and after this&mdash;on the shores
+of Britain, at Marseilles, at Munda, at Thapsus&mdash;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 C&aelig;sar, 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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s chaplain, but in the meantime he was the husband of Cromwell&rsquo;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&mdash;father, mother, children, and servants&mdash;and the king
+himself, whose features were known to millions, not even withdrawing
+himself from the public gaze at the stations for changing horses&mdash;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. &ldquo;Do
+you really need to escape at all?&rdquo; would have been the question of many
+a lunatic; &ldquo;if you do, surely you need also to disguise your
+preparations for escape.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But alike the madness, or the providential wisdom, of such attempts
+commands our profoundest interest; alike&mdash;whether conducted by a C&aelig;sar
+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> &ldquo;Feels by a secret instinct;&rdquo;&mdash;A sentiment of this nature
+is finely expressed by Lucan in the passage beginning, &ldquo;Advenisse diem,&rdquo;
+&amp;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.
+C&aelig;sar, 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 C&aelig;sar&rsquo;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&mdash;all these
+things were needed for the cleansing of Rome; and that C&aelig;sar 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&rsquo;s Hunting Adventures in South Africa.]</p>
+
+<h2>FEARFUL TRAGEDY&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;The lion! the
+lion!&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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, &ldquo;Help me,
+help me! Oh God! men, help me!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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, &ldquo;<em>Your</em> time is up, old
+fellow.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo; men were about, who were plowing up the stubbles to prepare for
+another year&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;a Friend&mdash;for though you, dear
+reader, do not know him, he was both at the time we speak of&mdash;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, &ldquo;Ay, all good, all beautiful!&rdquo; 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&mdash;<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&mdash;&ldquo;Wherever two or three are met together in my name, there am
+I in the midst of them.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s face&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;To Leicester!&rdquo; exclaimed at once man and wife; &ldquo;to Leicester!&rdquo; No such
+thing. He must stay where he was&mdash;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&rsquo;s house, and make thus free?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not in the least,&rdquo; the farmer replied; &ldquo;the freer the better!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;No, never!&rdquo; they exclaimed; &ldquo;never, on any consideration! They had made
+a firm resolve on that point, which nothing would induce them to break
+through.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; said John Basford, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&mdash;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!&mdash;no!&mdash;it was his contagious mind ready to hear and see&mdash;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&mdash;did not the heart and the very flesh of the rash old man now
+creep too?&mdash;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>&ldquo;I have got him! I have got him!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Let him go, sir, in God&rsquo;s name!&rdquo; exclaimed the farmer, on whose brow
+drops of real anguish stood, and glistened in the light of the candle.
+&ldquo;Down stairs, C&aelig;sar!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;You know it all, sir,&rdquo; said the farmer; &ldquo;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?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;And do you think it a right thing, sir,&rdquo; said the farmer, &ldquo;thus to
+force yourself into a stranger&rsquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, friend, I don&rsquo;t want to ruin thee,&rdquo; said the Quaker.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My friend,&rdquo; said the Quaker, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I rob the landlord of nothing,&rdquo; replied the farmer. &ldquo;I pay a good, fair
+rent; but I don&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The word Judas seemed to hit the Friend a great blow.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A Judas!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes&mdash;a Judas! a real Judas!&rdquo; exclaimed the wife. &ldquo;Who could have
+thought it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; said the old man. &ldquo;I am no Judas. It is true, I forced
+myself into it; and if you pay the landlord an honest rent, why, I don&rsquo;t
+know that it is any business of mine&mdash;at least while you live.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is all we want,&rdquo; replied the farmer, his countenance changing, and
+again flinging himself by his wife on his knees by the bed. &ldquo;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&rsquo; old spot who
+will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Promise me never to practice this trick again,&rdquo; said John Basford.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We promise faithfully,&rdquo; rejoined both farmer and wife.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I promise too,&rdquo; said the Friend, &ldquo;that not a whisper of what has
+passed here shall pass my lips during your lifetime.&rdquo;</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&mdash;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&rsquo;s Magazine.]</p>
+
+<h2>LEDRU ROLLIN&mdash;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 Rh&ocirc;ne 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&mdash;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, &pound;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 commen&ccedil;ait
+&agrave; 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">&eacute;tudiant 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">&eacute;l&egrave;ves</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">pyrrhon&eacute;ste</span>, as Louis XVIII., such tendencies were likely to spread
+themselves through all ranks of society&mdash;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">&eacute;tudiants 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&rsquo;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&rsquo; course of study, M. Rollin obtained a diploma as a <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">licenci&eacute; 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">avou&eacute;</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">complicit&eacute; 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">&eacute;meute</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">r&eacute;dacteur en chief</span> of the <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">R&eacute;forme</span> newspaper, a political journal of
+an ultra-liberal&mdash;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 R&eacute;forme</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&rsquo; 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 R&eacute;forme</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">R&eacute;forme</span>, he
+had himself become thoroughly known to the extreme party in the
+departments, and on the death of Garnier Pag&egrave;s 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&rsquo; imprisonment, but the sentence was appealed against and
+annulled on a technical ground, and the honorable member was ultimately
+acquitted by the Cour d&rsquo;Assizes of Angers.</p>
+
+<p>The parliamentary <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">d&eacute;but</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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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">&agrave; la v&eacute;rit&eacute;, &agrave; la sincerit&eacute; des
+institutions conquises en Julliet 1830</span>; whereas the desire of Rollin
+was, <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">&agrave; l&rsquo;am&eacute;lioration 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 damn&eacute;e</span> of the
+Provisional Government&mdash;the man whose extreme opinions, intemperate
+circulars, and vehement patronage of persons professing the political
+creed of Robespierre&mdash;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&rsquo;s Edinburgh Journal.]</p>
+
+<h2>A CHIP FROM A SAILOR&rsquo;S LOG.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">It</span> was a dead calm&mdash;not a breath of air&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;How cool and clear it looks,&rdquo; said a tall, powerful young seaman; &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t think there are many sharks about: what do you say for a bath,
+lads?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That for the sharks!&rdquo; burst almost simultaneously from the parched lips
+of the group: &ldquo;we&rsquo;ll have a jolly good bath when the second mate goes in
+to dinner.&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;You no swim to-day, Ned?&rdquo; said he, addressing me. &ldquo;Feared of shark,
+heh? Shark nebber bite me. Suppose I meet shark in water, I swim after
+him&mdash;him run like debbel.&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;A shark! a shark!&rdquo; In an instant every one of the
+swimmers came tumbling up the ship&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Well done, Ned!&rdquo; cried some of the sailors from the forecastle. &ldquo;Go it,
+Sambo!&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;A shark! a shark! Come back for God&rsquo;s
+sake!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lay aft, and lower the cutter down,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Swim, for God&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo; cried the captain, who was now on deck; &ldquo;he has
+not yet seen you. The boat, if possible, will get between you and him.
+Strike out, lads, for God&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Swim, Ned&mdash;swim!&rdquo; cried several voices; &ldquo;they never take black when
+they can get white.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s falls, and they could not lower her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He sees you now!&rdquo; was shouted; &ldquo;he is after you!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Hurra! they are saved!&mdash;they are alongside!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;on a high and heathy
+ground, which gives a far-off view of the minster of Lincoln&mdash;you may
+behold a little clump of trees, encircled by a wall. That is called
+<span class="smcap">Thompson&rsquo;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&mdash;for cultivation now approaches it? The poor man and his wants spread
+themselves, and corn and potatoes crowd upon Thompson&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s commands, and Thompson&rsquo;s gold, arrest them. They work on,
+and out walks Thompson&rsquo;s living servant, still in the body, though a
+body not much more substantial than a ghost All cry, &ldquo;How have you
+managed to live?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I fled to the cellar. I have sipped the wine; but now I want bread,
+meat, every thing!&rdquo; 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&mdash;but in the dream of one. One night he was heard crying in a
+voice of horror, &ldquo;There! there!&mdash;fly! fly!&mdash;the town shakes! the house
+falls! Ha! the earth opens!&mdash;away!&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;errand-boy, brickmakers&rsquo; 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&mdash;<cite>The Autobiography of an
+Artisan</cite>&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;
+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&mdash;lies solitary and apart from his race. He lived to earn
+money&mdash;his thought was for himself&mdash;and there he sleeps, alone in his
+glory&mdash;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 &ldquo;that knows not when good
+cometh,&rdquo; 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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;Schwart fore life&rdquo; and &ldquo;Chiel fore life:&rdquo; this idea, however,
+is erroneous. The color of the lion&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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 &ldquo;Westley Richards.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Baseleka,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Bechuanas,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;man-eaters.&rdquo; 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 hy&aelig;na, 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 &ldquo;Bechuana&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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:
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s grave. There is a little stone which bears this
+inscription:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;HER HEART BRAKE IN SILENCE.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>But the silence of the church-yard is now broken by a voice&mdash;not of the
+youth&mdash;nor a voice of laughter and ribaldry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My son! dost thou see this grave? and dost thou read the record in
+anguish, whereof may come repentance?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of what should I repent?&rdquo; answers the son; &ldquo;and why should my young
+ambition for fame relax in its strength because my mother was old and
+weak?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is this indeed our son?&rdquo; says the father, bending in agony over the
+grave of his beloved.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can well believe I am not;&rdquo; exclaimeth the youth. &ldquo;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&mdash;mine yonder!&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;sheeted
+dead&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;-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&rsquo;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&mdash;see him turn out to church, wake, or fair&mdash;there&rsquo;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&mdash;scarlet, or blue, or green
+striped&mdash;but it must be showy; and a pair of trowsers, generally blue,
+with a width nearly as ample as a sailor&rsquo;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;betwixt and
+between.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;lower than the angels,&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;The Farmer&rsquo;s Boy,&rdquo;</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?&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The widening distance that I daily see?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has wealth done this? Then wealth&rsquo;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&rsquo;s eyes&mdash;where the peasantry and villagers are numerous enough
+to keep one another in countenance; and there you shall find the English
+peasant a &ldquo;happier and a wiser man.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;a fellow of infinite jest.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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, &ldquo;Good day
+to ye, sir!&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;Well, and how are you, John?&mdash;and how&rsquo;s Molly, and all
+the little ankle-biters?&mdash;and how goes the pig on, and the garden&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Let me hear the dialogue of those two brave fellows; there is the soul
+of England&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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? &ldquo;My! what a vaporing
+coward art thou! Where&rsquo;s the fairness, where&rsquo;s the equalness of the
+match? I tell thee, my heart&rsquo;s good enough; but what&rsquo;s my strength to
+thine?&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;crow like chanticleer;&rdquo; 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&mdash;whether shepherds, laborers, hewers of wood, or drawers of
+waters&mdash;</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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;t pull off one or the
+other; but they don&rsquo;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&mdash;</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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;s rick! Monster! Can this be
+the English peasant? &rsquo;Tis the same!&mdash;&rsquo;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?&mdash;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 &eacute;tat major, I found the great
+court-yard of the &ldquo;hotel&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Cour,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;plateau.&rdquo; Chakos, helmets, and great coats
+were hung upon the orange trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the
+white leather apron of the &ldquo;sapeur,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;grille,&rdquo;
+showing that the spot was to be respected by those whose careless
+gestures and reckless air betrayed how little influence the mere &ldquo;genius
+of the place&rdquo; 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&mdash;all dusty and
+way-worn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel,
+when they were called on to &ldquo;fall in,&rdquo; and again the word &ldquo;forward&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Sous-Lieutenant.&rdquo; I had not asked his name, but his
+regiment I knew to be the 22d Chasseurs &agrave; 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&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;And whither to?&rdquo; asked I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To Treves, on the Moselle,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;eager for the fray;&rdquo;
+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, &ldquo;the Cour&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;soldiering,&rdquo; I soon not only forgot that I was
+an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander &ldquo;fancy free,&rdquo; following
+out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the
+choice were given me, I would rather have been the &ldquo;Adam of that Eden&rdquo;
+than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory!
+Fortunately, or unfortunately&mdash;it would not be easy to decide which&mdash;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>&ldquo;You&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and
+yet&mdash;Parbleu! it&rsquo;s too bad!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;No, no; it&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t that one of your people at the foot of the tower?&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Halloa!&rdquo; cried he, &ldquo;are you on duty?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir; I was&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, no; it will be too late,&rdquo; he broke in again. &ldquo;Take my troop horse,
+and be off. You&rsquo;ll find him in the stable, to your left.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then turning to the lady I heard him say&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It may save Roquelard from an arrest.&rdquo;</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&mdash;in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of
+careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters
+&ldquo;R.F.;&rdquo; 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
+&ldquo;tartar.&rdquo; Making choice of him without an instant&rsquo;s hesitation, I threw
+on the saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the
+bridle, and led him forth. In all my &ldquo;school experience&rdquo; 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&mdash;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 &ldquo;sling&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Who sent you with this order?&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A general officer, sir, whose name I don&rsquo;t know; but who told me to
+take his own horse and follow you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir,&rdquo; said he, pointing to the
+heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the
+Boulevard, rode away with me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why it&rsquo;s Colonel Mahon&rsquo;s Arab, &lsquo;Aleppo,&rsquo;&rdquo; said another officer; &ldquo;what
+could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a best worth ten
+thousand francs?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I thought I&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Tell the colonel, sir,&rdquo; said the major, &ldquo;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&mdash;you hear, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I touched my cap in salute.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Repeat it, then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I mentioned the reply, word for word, as he spoke it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; said he, as I concluded; &ldquo;I said for unsoldierlike and cruel
+treatment to your horse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly
+added&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty,&rdquo; muttered one of the captains.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d not blame him,&rdquo; joined another; &ldquo;that horse saved his life at
+Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!&rdquo;</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
+&ldquo;upon honor,&rdquo; 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&mdash;such, for instance, as being ordered for service
+at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon&mdash;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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Tell the colonel he&rsquo;s come, Jacques,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;An active beast that,&rdquo; said I, affecting the easiest and coolest
+indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I
+continued,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He has had a bad hand on him, I should say&mdash;some one too flurried and
+too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Another stare was all the reply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In a little time, and with a little patience, I&rsquo;d make him as gentle as
+a lamb.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am afraid you&rsquo;ll not have the opportunity,&rdquo; replied he,
+significantly; &ldquo;but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can
+discuss the matter together.&rdquo;</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&mdash;the
+glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain&mdash;the richness of the lady&rsquo;s
+dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball&mdash;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. &ldquo;This must have an end,&rdquo; thought I&mdash;&ldquo;here
+goes;&rdquo; and so, with my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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
+Chauss&eacute;e 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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Any thing more?&rdquo; asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and
+guttural with passion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing more, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No further remark or observation?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None, sir&mdash;at least from the major.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What then&mdash;from any other?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel
+Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you replied?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t believe I made any reply at the time, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you thought, sir&mdash;what were your thoughts?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought it very like what I&rsquo;d have done myself in a like case,
+although certain to be sorry for it afterward.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;There we differ, sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;for <em>I</em> should not.&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;You will bring this paper,&rdquo; continued he, &ldquo;to the &lsquo;Prevot Marshal.&rsquo;
+To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and
+as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labor&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll save them the trouble,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;You want the &lsquo;fusillade&rsquo;&mdash;is that what you want?&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;What is it&mdash;what do you mean, Laure?&rdquo; cried the colonel angrily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see it?&rdquo; said she, still holding her kerchief to her
+face&mdash;&ldquo;can&rsquo;t you perceive it yourself? He has only one mustache!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I turned hastily toward the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal
+fact revealed&mdash;one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek,
+while the other was left bare.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is the fellow mad&mdash;a mountebank?&rdquo; said the colonel, whose anger was now
+at its white heat.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Neither, sir,&rdquo; said I, tearing off my remaining mustache, in shame and
+passion together. &ldquo;Among my other misfortunes I have that of being
+young; and what&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;This is beyond belief,&rdquo;
+cried he. &ldquo;Come, gredin, you have at least had one piece of good
+fortune: you&rsquo;ve fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with
+you. Your regiment?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Ninth Hussars.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your name.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tiernay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tiernay; that&rsquo;s not a French name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not originally; we were Irish once.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Irish!&rdquo; said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used.
+&ldquo;Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in
+the Royal Guard?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His son, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;What&mdash;his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother&rsquo;s
+name, then; what was it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never knew which was my mother,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Mademoiselle de la
+Lasterie, or&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck,
+pressed me to his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are little Maurice, then,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;the son of my old and valued
+comrade! Only think of it, Laure&mdash;I was that boy&rsquo;s godfather.&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;Garde du Corps,&rdquo; he
+had taken service with the republic, and was already reputed as one of
+the most distinguished cavalry officers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Strange enough, Maurice,&rdquo; said he to me, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;s character, and constantly broke out into
+exclamations of &ldquo;How like him!&rdquo; &ldquo;Just what he would have done himself!&rdquo;
+&ldquo;His own very words!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Never fret about that, Maurice, I&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?&rdquo; said the lady, in a half whisper.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure he is better worth his epaulets than any I have seen on your
+staff.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nay, nay,&rdquo; muttered the colonel, &ldquo;the rules of the service forbid it.
+He&rsquo;ll win his spurs time enough, or I&rsquo;m much mistaken.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and
+want to see how men comport themselves where the man&#339;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&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;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,&rdquo; continued he, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span>&ldquo;because your colonel is
+what they call a &lsquo;Grosbleu,&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</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 employ&eacute;es
+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 &ldquo;braves gens,&rdquo; the very roughest and least-polished
+specimens of the polite nation. In all his intercourse with them, Eugene
+affected the easiest tone of camarader&eacute; 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 &ldquo;playing them off,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;My dear Maurice, it&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;the dirtier the
+safer!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&rsquo;t clearly comprehend me, and so I&rsquo;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 &lsquo;Qui va la!&rsquo; 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, &lsquo;Je suis le Marquis de Saint-Trone.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;There are no more marquises in France!&rsquo; was the savage answer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My father smiled contemptuously, and briefly said, &lsquo;Saint-Trone.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We have no saints either,&rsquo; cried another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Be it so, my friend,&rsquo; said he, with mingled pity and disgust. &lsquo;I
+suppose some designation may at least be left to me, and that I may call
+myself Trone.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We are done with thrones long ago,&rsquo; shouted they in chorus, &lsquo;and we&rsquo;ll
+finish you also.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How so, Eugene? you fancy the republic will not endure in France. What,
+then, can replace it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;the cleverest fellow he who
+sees the coming change, and prepares to take advantage of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then are you a royalist?&rdquo; asked I.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are then for the republic?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For what robbed me of my inheritance&mdash;what degraded me from my rank,
+and reduced me to a state below that of my own vassals! Is this a cause
+to uphold?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are satisfied with military glory, perhaps,&rdquo; said I, scarcely
+knowing what form of faith to attribute to him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cause of the Church&mdash;&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;I hope, my dear Maurice, you are not serious, and that you do not mean
+this for earnest! Why, my dear boy, don&rsquo;t you talk of the Eleusinian
+Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle, of Alchemy, Astrology&mdash;of any thing, in
+short, of which the world, having amused itself, has, at length, grown
+weary? Can&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 Pr&ecirc;tre; not
+but that they could have knocked down the Church without suffering the
+ruins to crush the chateau!&rdquo;</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 P&egrave;re 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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Mahon can be a good friend to you,&rdquo; said Eugene; &ldquo;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&mdash;what you
+will&mdash;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 &lsquo;live for the day.&rsquo; 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.&rdquo;</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">&ldquo;the passage of the rhine.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the object of this letter, sir; to what end have you
+presented it to me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As I am ignorant of its contents, mon colonel,&rdquo; said I calmly, &ldquo;I can
+scarcely answer the question.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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 prot&eacute;g&eacute; of the writer, he takes occasion to present you
+to me; now I ask again, with what object?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I presume, sir, to obtain for me the honor which I now enjoy&mdash;to become
+personally known to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know every soldier under my command, sir,&rdquo; said he, rebukingly, &ldquo;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&rsquo;ll have to show other claims
+than your ci-devant countship.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Colonel Mahon gave me a horse, sir, may I be permitted to retain him as
+a regimental mount?&rdquo; asked I, timidly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We want horses&mdash;what is he like?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Three quarters Arab, and splendid in action, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then of course, unfit for service and field man&#339;uvres. Send him to
+the Etat Major. The Republic will find a fitting mount for <em>you</em>; you
+may retire.&rdquo;</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, &ldquo;Hacques Tapageurs,&rdquo; as they were called, enjoyed the
+unflattering distinction of being the leaders. Self-respect was a
+quality utterly unknown among them&mdash;none felt ashamed at the disgrace of
+punishment&mdash;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 &ldquo;Equality&rdquo; was the
+permission to bring every thing down to a base and unworthy standard;
+their &ldquo;Fraternity,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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 &ldquo;broke
+in&rdquo; 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&rsquo;arm&eacute;e 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 &ldquo;different stuff;&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;four spaces and a fusillade.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;scelerat Regnier,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;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;">&ldquo;REGNIER,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">&ldquo;<span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Adjutant-general</span>.&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;And
+these are the men,&rdquo; thought I, &ldquo;who talk of their charging home through
+the dense squares of Austria&mdash;who have hunted the leopard into the sea!
+and have carried the flag of France over the high Alps!&rdquo;</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&mdash;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 man&#339;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 &ldquo;Le Jeune Maurice,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;arm&eacute;e</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&mdash;all egress in that direction forbidden&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s attention, while greater
+operations were to be carried on elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see what it is to be a condemned corps,&rdquo; muttered one; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s little
+matter what befalls the old ninth, even should they be cut to pieces.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They didn&rsquo;t think so at Enghein,&rdquo; said another, &ldquo;when we rode down the
+Austrian cuirassiers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plain enough,&rdquo; cried a third, &ldquo;we are to have skirmishers&rsquo; duty here,
+without skirmishers&rsquo; fortune in having a force to fall back upon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh! Maurice, is not this very like what you predicted for us?&rdquo; broke in
+a fourth ironically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m of the same mind still,&rdquo; rejoined I, coolly, &ldquo;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, &lsquo;that we must lose
+no time, for there will come rain and floods ere long.&rsquo; Now what could
+that mean, but the intention to cross over yonder?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cross the Rhine in face of the fort of Kehl!&rdquo; broke in the corporal.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The French army have done bolder things before now!&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Parbleu!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;thou&rsquo;rt right; they&rsquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s as it may be,&rdquo; growled the other, sulkily; &ldquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+like these!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think that this order was given to prevent any of the fishermen
+giving information to the enemy in case of a sudden attack,&rdquo; replied I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mayhap thou wert at the council of war when the plan was decided on,&rdquo;
+said he, contemptuously. &ldquo;For a fellow that never saw the smoke of an
+enemy&rsquo;s gun thou hast a rare audacity in talking of war!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yonder is the best answer to your taunt,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;They are embarking, they are certainly embarking,&rdquo; now ran from mouth
+to mouth. As the troops arrived at the river&rsquo;s bank they were speedily
+&ldquo;told off&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Listen, lads,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that came from the &lsquo;Fels Insel.&rsquo; If they are
+firing grape yonder, our poor fellows in the boats will suffer sorely
+from it. By Jove there is a crash!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s at them, boys; they can&rsquo;t be much above our own number. The
+island is a mere rock,&rdquo; cried I to my comrades.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who commands this party?&rdquo; said the corporal, &ldquo;you or I?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;You, if you lead us against the enemy,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;but I&rsquo;ll take it if
+my comrades will follow me. There goes another shot, lads&mdash;yes or
+no&mdash;now is the time to speak.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We&rsquo;re ready,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Come along, corporal,&rdquo; cried I, &ldquo;we&rsquo;ll win your epaulets for you;&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Pull steady, boys, and silently,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;we must gain the middle of
+the current, and then drop down the river without the least noise. Once
+beneath the trees, we&rsquo;ll give them a volley, and then the bayonet.
+Remember, lads, no flinching; it&rsquo;s as well to die here as be shot by old
+Regnier to-morrow.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Stronger and together, boys&mdash;once more&mdash;there it is&mdash;we are in the
+current, now; in with you, men, and look to your carbines&mdash;see that the
+priming is safe; every shot soon will be worth a fusilade. Lie still
+now, and wait for the word to fire.&rdquo;</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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Wait patiently, lads,&rdquo; said I, restraining, with difficulty, the
+burning ardor of my men. &ldquo;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&mdash;now!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;The range is perfect, lads,&rdquo; cried I. &ldquo;Load and fire with all speed.&rdquo;</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 &aelig;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.</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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.</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&mdash;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 man&#339;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.</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&rsquo;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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Writing! writing! writing! Thank God, Andrew Carson, the pen will soon
+drop from your fingers with starvation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The woman said this in a half-screaming, but weak and broken-down voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, let me have some peace,&rdquo; said the young writer, turning his
+face away, so that he might not see her red glaring eyes fixed on him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&rsquo;s like a dream of lang syne that I ever lived.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She pressed her hands on her breast, as if some recollections of an
+overpowering nature were in her soul.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The last rag in your trunk has gone to the pawn; you have neither
+shirt, nor coat, nor covering now, except what you&rsquo;ve on.
+Write&mdash;write&mdash;if you can, without eating; to-morrow you&rsquo;ll have neither
+meat nor drink here, nor aught now to get money on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, I am in daily expectation of receiving something for my writing
+now; the post this evening may bring me some good news.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He said this with hesitation, and there was little of hope in the
+expression of his face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good news! good news about your writing! that&rsquo;s the good news &rsquo;ill
+never come; never, you good-for-nothing scribbler!&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, I am not strong enough for labor, and my tastes are strongly,
+very strongly, for literature.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not strong enough! you&rsquo;re twenty past. It&rsquo;s twenty long years since the
+cursed night I brought you into the world.&rdquo; 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&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m not drunk, don&rsquo;t think it,&rdquo; she cried; &ldquo;it&rsquo;s the hunger and the
+sorrow that&rsquo;s in my head.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, mother, perhaps this evening&rsquo;s post may have some good
+intelligence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did the morning&rsquo;s post bring? There, there&mdash;don&rsquo;t I see it&mdash;them&rsquo;s
+the bonnie hopes of yours.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Ay, there it is&mdash;there&rsquo;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&rsquo;s your father&rsquo;s face, too&mdash;ay&mdash;well
+it&rsquo;s like him now, indeed&mdash;the ruffian. I wish I had never seen him, nor
+you, nor this world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My father,&rdquo; said Andrew, and a feeling of interest overspread his
+bloodless face. &ldquo;You have told me little of him. Why do you speak of him
+so harshly?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go and work, and make money, I say. I tell you I must get money; right
+or wrong, I must get it; there&rsquo;s no living longer, and enduring what
+I&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;s what a working son can do&mdash;a shoemaker can do
+that.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s house; but oftenest the language
+of bitterness, violence, and execration was on her lips. With the
+never-ceasing complaints of want&mdash;want of position, want of friends,
+but, most of all, want of money&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;there they lay, unknown, unheard of&mdash;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&rsquo;s success would hardly
+have made him happy; he had no internal strength to cope with
+disappointment&mdash;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&mdash;without raising himself a name and a position above the
+common masses&mdash;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&mdash;of the amount of thought and
+dreams&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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?&mdash;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>&ldquo;There&mdash;there&rsquo;s another of them!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Idiot&mdash;fool&mdash;scribbling fool!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The unfortunate poet&rsquo;s mother sank into a chair, as if unable to support
+the force of her anger.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fool!&mdash;scribbling madman! will ye never give over?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew made no answer; but every one of his mother&rsquo;s furious words sank
+into his brain, adding to the force of his unutterable misery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will ye go now, and take to some other trade, will ye?&mdash;will ye, I
+say?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Andrew&rsquo;s lips moved for a moment, but no sound came from them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will ye go out, and make money, I say, at some sensible work? Make
+money for me, will you? I&rsquo;ll force you out to make money at some work by
+which there&rsquo;s money to be made; not the like of that idiot writing of
+yours, curse it. Answer me, and tell me you&rsquo;ll go out and work for money
+now?&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;You will not speak. Listen, then&mdash;listen to me, I say; I&rsquo;ll tell it all
+now; you&rsquo;ll hear what you never heard before. I did not tell you before,
+because I pitied you&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;he bound me to
+him by the ties of money only.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A violent shudder passed over Andrew&rsquo;s frame at this intelligence, but
+still he said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall hear it all&mdash;I shall tell you particularly the whole story.
+It was not for nothing you were always afraid of being called a bastard.
+It&rsquo;s an ugly word, but it belongs to you&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;t do it; you will only
+write&mdash;write all day and all night, too, though I&rsquo;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&rsquo;s all spent long before it
+comes, and here we are with nothing, not a crust, in the house, and it&rsquo;s
+two months till next paying time.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Listen&mdash;I&rsquo;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Want of money was the earliest thing I remember to feel,&rdquo; she said, as
+she seated herself, with something more of composure in her manner.
+&ldquo;There was never any money in my father&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;he
+hardly believed himself; he doubted&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;a married man; his wife and children were living there before
+my eyes&mdash;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&mdash;I went to him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A deep groan shook the whole frame of the unfortunate young poet at this
+statement&mdash;a groan which in its intensity might have separated soul and
+body.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me go&mdash;let me go!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;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&mdash;yes, marriage and money&mdash;money&mdash;they were almost in my very
+grasp. I was sure&mdash;sure&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;for years&mdash;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,&rdquo; she said, raising her hand to her head. &ldquo;The
+burning fever into which I was thrown when your father&rsquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, there was a look approaching to dignity in her wasted
+face, and her tones were clear and commanding&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Where are you going, Andrew? It&rsquo;s a bitter night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, it is good enough for me&mdash;for a&mdash;&rdquo;</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&mdash;a feeling of a mother&rsquo;s affection and
+solicitude, was stirred in Mrs. Carson&rsquo;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&rsquo;s mind;
+something&mdash;perhaps the death-like aspect of her son, or a voice from her
+long stifled conscience&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;no money to purchase fire.
+She thought of the wealthy&mdash;of their bright fires&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Mother, here is money&mdash;gold&mdash;here&mdash;your hand.&rdquo; He pressed some gold
+coins into her hand. &ldquo;Gold! ay, gold, gold, indeed!&rdquo; gasped his mother,
+the intensity of her joy repressing for the instant all extravagant
+demonstrations of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Money! money at last; gold&mdash;gold!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Money! blessings, blessings on you and God&mdash;money!&rdquo; She seemed still in
+ignorance of Andrew&rsquo;s request that she would withdraw.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;I say, whereabouts is it&mdash;where&rsquo;s the snatch, my good woman?&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;She&rsquo;s mad, don&rsquo;t you see,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s it,&rdquo; cried the men; &ldquo;show us the way to the room fast; it&rsquo;s all
+quiet now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Anxious to get rid of the men, Mrs. Carson proceeded hastily to her
+son&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s heart.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Andrew!&rdquo; she said; &ldquo;Andrew, the men are here.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;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&mdash;my
+body&mdash;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.&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;Prussic Acid,&rdquo; 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 G&ouml;ttingen, 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&rsquo;S &ldquo;Life of Christ,&rdquo; 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&rsquo;CLINTOCK and BLUMENTHAL.</p>
+
+<p>The great work of Neander&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;NEANDER is no more! He who for thirty-eight years has defeated the
+attacks upon the church from the side of rationalism and
+philosophy&mdash;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&mdash;Neander, the philosopher, the
+scholar&mdash;better, the great and good man&mdash;has been taken from the world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Many anecdotes are related of him illustrative of his absence of mind,
+such as his appearing in the lecture room half dressed&mdash;if left alone,
+always going to his old residence, after he had removed to another part
+of the city&mdash;walking in the gutter, &amp;c., &amp;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;Neander&rsquo;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;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, &lsquo;That disciple whom Jesus loved
+said unto Peter, <em>It is the Lord!</em>&rsquo; Neander&rsquo;s life resembled more &lsquo;that
+disciple&rsquo;s&rsquo; than any other. He was the loving John, the new Church
+Father of our times.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His sickness was only of a few days&rsquo; 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&mdash;&lsquo;I am weary&mdash;let us go home.&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;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>&ldquo;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: &lsquo;It is
+the Lord!&rsquo; 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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;his mother was dead long before;
+and he was left alone in the world with his riddle. The whole house,
+board, trade&mdash;what there was of it&mdash;all was his. When he came to take
+stock, and make an inventory&mdash;in his head&mdash;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&mdash;nobody knew where&mdash;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&rsquo;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&mdash;I thought we had done with these
+dreams!&mdash;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&mdash;B&uuml;rgermeister 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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Ha! ha!&mdash;slipped down into the mud that he emerged from!&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the
+Hippopotamus. Who so likely as he, who had his eye continually on Hans&rsquo;s
+door? But no matter&mdash;the thief was clear off; and the only comfort he
+got from his neighbors, was being rated for his stinginess. &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said
+they, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span>&ldquo;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!&mdash;it is a sin!&mdash;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is something in that,&rdquo; 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
+B&uuml;rgermeister 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, &ldquo;This man must have
+a good business that requires him to be up thus early;&rdquo; and they who
+passed in the evening, said, &ldquo;This man must be making a fortune, for he
+is busy early and late.&rdquo; 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 B&uuml;rgermeister growing rapidly upon him; when, as he
+turned the corner of the street&mdash;men and mercies!&mdash;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&mdash;all were
+consumed! and when poor Hans danced and capered, in the very ecstasy of
+his distraction&mdash;&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; said his neighbors, &ldquo;this comes of leaving a
+light in an empty house. It was just the thing to happen. Why don&rsquo;t you
+get somebody to take care of things in your absence?&rdquo;</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 B&uuml;rgermeister
+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&mdash;he had dreamed; and dreams, if they are
+genuine, fulfill themselves. The money grew&mdash;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&rsquo;s
+eyes had been quick enough, and he proved himself a hand-work&rsquo;s fellow
+to some purpose, by clearing out Hans&rsquo;s hiding-place, and becoming a
+journeyman in earnest. The fellow was gone one morning; no great
+loss&mdash;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&mdash;&ldquo;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!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Get married!&rdquo; thought Hans. He was struck all on a heap at the very
+mention of it &ldquo;Get married! What! fine clothes to go a-wooing in, and
+fine presents to go a-wooing with; and parson&rsquo;s fees, and clerk&rsquo;s fees;
+and wedding-dinner, and dancing, and drinking; and then, doctor&rsquo;s fees,
+and nurse&rsquo;s fees, and children without end! That is ruin!&rdquo; thought
+Hans&mdash;&ldquo;without end!&rdquo; The fifty dollars and the B&uuml;rgermeistership&mdash;they
+might wait till doomsday.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that is good!&rdquo; thought Hans, as he took a little more breath.
+&ldquo;They first counseled me to get a light&mdash;then went house and all in a
+bonfire; next, I must get a journeyman&mdash;then went the money; and now
+they would have me bring more plagues upon me than Moses brought upon
+Egypt. Nay, nay!&rdquo; thought Hans; &ldquo;you&rsquo;ll not catch me there, neither.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&mdash;children did not come scampering into the world
+all at once, like a flock of lambs into a meadow&mdash;a wife might help to
+gather, as well as spend&mdash;might possibly bring something of her own&mdash;ay!
+a new idea!&mdash;would be a perpetual watch and storekeeper in his
+absence&mdash;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&mdash;he was off! Whither?</p>
+
+<p>Why, it so happened that in his &ldquo;wander-years,&rdquo; Hans had played his
+fiddle at many a dance&mdash;a very dangerous position; for his chin resting
+on &ldquo;the merry bit of wood,&rdquo; 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 B&ouml;hmer-Wald who had danced to the
+sound of his fiddle, there was a certain substantial bergman&rsquo;s or
+master-miner&rsquo;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!&mdash;they were
+in perfect hysterics of wrath and indignation. Their daughter!&mdash;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&rsquo;-my-thumb scoundrel must carry witch-powder!</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, as Hans and the damsel were agreed, every thing
+else&mdash;threats, denunciations, sarcasms, cuttings-off with a shilling,
+and loss of a ponderous dowry&mdash;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 B&uuml;rgermeister 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, &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll repent, repent, repent;
+you&rsquo;ll repent, repent, repent;&rdquo; and the bassoon answered, in surly
+tones, &ldquo;And soon! and soon!&rdquo; &ldquo;I hope, my dear,&rdquo; said the bride, &ldquo;You
+don&rsquo;t mean the words for us.&rdquo; &ldquo;No, love,&rdquo; explained Hans, gallantly; &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t say &lsquo;we,&rsquo; but &lsquo;you&rsquo;&mdash;that is, certain haughty people on these
+hills that shall be nameless.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;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 B&uuml;rgermeister 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s carriage drawn up at his opponent&rsquo;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&rsquo;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 B&uuml;rgermeister 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&rsquo;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&mdash;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&rsquo;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!&mdash;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, &ldquo;Hans,
+confide in your wife. You see all your schemes without her fail. Open
+your heart to her&mdash;deal fairly, generously, and you will reap the merits
+of it.&rdquo; It was all in vain&mdash;he had not yet come to his senses. Obstinate
+as a mule&mdash;he determined to try once more. But good-by to the ass! The
+only thing he resolved to mount was his shop board&mdash;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&rsquo;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. &ldquo;Nobody, will meddle with them,&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you have thrown into the river,&rdquo; exclaimed Hans, frantically, &ldquo;the
+hoarding of three years; the money which had cost me many a weary
+day&mdash;many an anxious night. The money which would have made our
+fortunes&mdash;in short, that would have made me B&uuml;rgermeister of Rapps.&rdquo;
+Completely thrown off his guard, he betrayed his secret.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good gracious!&rdquo; cried his wife, exceedingly alarmed; &ldquo;why did you not
+tell me of it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay, that is the question!&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s house. There he sat at his
+work; there sat his wife by his side; aiding and contriving with a
+woman&rsquo;s wit, a woman&rsquo;s love, and a woman&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s
+disasters ran too strong for me, that his wife&rsquo;s parents were dead, and
+had died without giving her any token of reconciliation&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s good qualities, however, got the better of him. &ldquo;The
+man&rsquo;s a man, though,&rdquo; said he to himself, very philosophically, &ldquo;and as
+he is good to my sister, he shall know of it.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s orchestra, and find nobody there to beat him. When he took
+his leave, therefore, he seized one of Hans&rsquo;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, &ldquo;My sister ought not to have come
+dowerless into a good husband&rsquo;s house. This is properly her own: take
+it, and much good may it do you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Our story need not be prolonged. The new tailor soon fled before the
+star of Hans&rsquo;s ascendency. A very few years saw him installed into the
+office of B&uuml;rgermeister, 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 B&uuml;rgermeister, and Frau B&uuml;rgermeisterin
+of Rapps, often visited their colossal brother of the B&ouml;hmerwald, 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&rsquo;s &ldquo;Household Words.&rdquo;]</p>
+
+<h2>LITTLE MARY.&mdash;A TALE OF THE IRISH FAMINE.</h2>
+
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">That</span> was a pleasant place where I was born, though &rsquo;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, &rsquo;tis long ago
+since my brother Richard, that&rsquo;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&rsquo;
+and wild bees&rsquo; nests. &rsquo;Tis long ago&mdash;and though I&rsquo;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&rsquo;s evening,
+I can&rsquo;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, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; The words made me think of them that are gone&mdash;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&rsquo;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 &rsquo;twas a long time before
+I&rsquo;d call her &ldquo;mother.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;Blind Tom&rdquo;
+with them, she&rsquo;d interfere for us, and say, &ldquo;Tim, <em>aleagh</em>, don&rsquo;t touch
+them this time; sure &rsquo;tis only <em>arch</em> they are: they&rsquo;ll get more sense
+in time.&rdquo; And then, after he was gone out, she&rsquo;d advise us for our good
+so pleasantly, that a thundercloud itself couldn&rsquo;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&rsquo; wives used to say, &rsquo;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, &rsquo;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 &ldquo;fine English ways.&rdquo;</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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;er a colleen in the country could show
+at mass. Through means of my father&rsquo;s industry and my mother&rsquo;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&rsquo;t content her, but she must
+fly to her mother&rsquo;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&rsquo;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. &rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;t afford to pay them even <em>that</em> any
+longer. Oh! &rsquo;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&rsquo;t like it, being delicate and always used to
+sweet milk, so she said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mammy, won&rsquo;t you give me some of the nice milk instead of that?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t it <em>asthore</em>, nor can&rsquo;t get it,&rdquo; said her mother, &ldquo;so don&rsquo;t
+ye fret.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Not a word more out of the little one&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Judy,&rdquo; said my father, &ldquo;God is good, and sure &rsquo;tis only in Him we must
+put our trust; for in the wide world I can see nothing but starvation
+before us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God <em>is</em> good, Tim,&rdquo; replied my mother; &ldquo;He won&rsquo;t forsake us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Just then Richard came in with a more joyful face than I had seen on him
+for many a day.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good news!&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;good news, father! there&rsquo;s work for us both on
+the Droumcarra road. The government works are to begin there to-morrow;
+you&rsquo;ll get eight-pence a day, and I&rsquo;ll get six-pence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>If you saw our delight when we heard this, you&rsquo;d think &rsquo;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&mdash;it
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span>hadn&rsquo;t the <em>nature</em> about it that a hot potato has for a poor man; but
+still &rsquo;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&mdash;God help them!&mdash;hadn&rsquo;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&mdash;and they said, Indeed it was putting a great affront on the decent
+Irish to mix up their food as if &rsquo;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&rsquo;s work, my mother would always try
+to have something for them to eat with their porridge&mdash;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 &rsquo;twas little she took herself. She would
+often go entirely without a meal, and then she&rsquo;d slip down to the
+huckster&rsquo;s, and buy a little white bun for Mary; and I&rsquo;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&rsquo;d always break off a bit to put into her mother&rsquo;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: &rsquo;twas the will of the Lord
+to take him to himself, and he died after a few days&rsquo; 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&mdash;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>&ldquo;Keep Sally here always; our poor darling was fond of her.&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s last kiss had ever
+touched her lips.</p>
+
+<p>My father&rsquo;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&mdash;ten of them with a heavy load on her back&mdash;for
+the sake of earning enough to keep us alive. &rsquo;Twas very seldom that
+Richard could get a stroke of work to do: the boy wasn&rsquo;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! &rsquo;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&rsquo; 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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;s eyes, and a hot flush on her
+thin cheeks&mdash;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: &ldquo;Take her, Sally,&rdquo; she said&mdash;and between
+every word she gave the child a kiss&mdash;&ldquo;take her; she&rsquo;s safer with you
+than she&rsquo;d be with me, for you&rsquo;re over the sickness, and &rsquo;tisn&rsquo;t long
+any way, I&rsquo;ll be with you, my jewel,&rdquo; she said, as she gave the little
+creature one long close hug, and put her into my arms.</p>
+
+<p>&rsquo;Twould take long to tell all about her sickness&mdash;how Richard and I, as
+good right we had, tended her night and day; and how, when every
+farthing and farthing&rsquo;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>&ldquo;Bring me the child, Sally, <em>aleagh</em>,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;You won&rsquo;t be long away from me, my own one,&rdquo; she said, while her tears
+fell down upon the child like summer-rain.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; said I, as well as I could speak for crying, &ldquo;sure you <em>Know</em>
+I&rsquo;ll do my best to tend her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know you will, <em>acushla</em>; you were always a true and dutiful daughter
+to me and to him that&rsquo;s gone; but, Sally, there&rsquo;s <em>that</em> in my weeny one
+that won&rsquo;t let her thrive without the mother&rsquo;s hand over her, and the
+mother&rsquo;s heart for hers to lean against. And now&mdash;&rdquo; 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&rsquo;s. One evening she sat at the door
+later than usual.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in, <em>alannah</em>,&rdquo; I said to her. &ldquo;Won&rsquo;t you come in for your own
+Sally?&rdquo;</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&mdash;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&rsquo;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&rsquo;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&mdash;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. &ldquo;It is very strange,&rdquo; I thought;
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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.
+&ldquo;Am I still dreaming!&rdquo; I exclaimed, not without a momentary thrill
+through my whole frame. &ldquo;Is the agreement to be perfect to the very
+end?&rdquo; 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&#8217;s words on my lips, &ldquo;A continued dream would be equal to
+reality,&rdquo; 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&mdash;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>&ldquo;I wonder, sir,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;</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, &ldquo;I will
+go, come what may.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;It is, indeed, very strange,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Very well, gentlemen; as fast, and as soon as you please,&rdquo; he replied.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you a well here?&rdquo; I inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, sir; we are obliged to go for water to a spring at a considerable
+distance.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;A well!&rdquo; cried she; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And could you tell where that well used to be?&rdquo; I asked, almost
+breathless with excitement.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As near as I can remember, on the very spot on which your honor is
+standing,&rdquo; said the old woman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could have sworn it!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;I was quite sure it was here,&rdquo; said the woman. &ldquo;What a fool the old
+fellow was to stop it up, and then have so far to go for water!&rdquo;</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&mdash;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&mdash;a very long time ago&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;ll tell you then&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;the mulish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would sicken heart and brain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No&mdash;I&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The feebleness of all that&#8217;s man&#8217;s&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The might that&#8217;s God&#8217;s and theirs!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when eve came I&#8217;d listen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To the stilling of that war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till o&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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>&ldquo;Eh! what? you sir,&rdquo; said Mr. Bagges, facetiously addressing himself to
+his eldest nephew, Harry&mdash;&ldquo;Eh! what? I am glad to hear, sir, that you
+are doing well at school. Now&mdash;eh! now, are you clever enough to tell me
+where was Moses when he put the candle out?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That depends, uncle,&rdquo; answered the young gentleman, &ldquo;on whether he had
+lighted the candle to see with at night, or by daylight to seal a
+letter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh! very good, now! &#8217;Pon my word, very good,&rdquo; exclaimed Uncle Bagges.
+&ldquo;You must be Lord Chancellor, sir&mdash;Lord Chancellor, one of these days.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now, uncle,&rdquo; asked Harry, who was a favorite with the old
+gentleman, &ldquo;can you tell me what you do when you put a candle out?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Clap an extinguisher on it, you young rogue, to be sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! but I mean, you cut off its supply of oxygen,&rdquo; said Master Harry.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cut off its ox&#8217;s&mdash;eh? what? I shall cut off your nose, you young dog,
+one of these fine days.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He means something he heard at the Royal Institution,&rdquo; observed Mrs.
+Wilkinson. &ldquo;He reads a great deal about chemistry, and he attended
+Professor Faraday&#8217;s lectures there on the chemical history of a candle,
+and has been full of it ever since.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, you sir,&rdquo; said Uncle Bagges, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He&#8217;ll bore you, Bagges,&rdquo; said Mrs. Wilkinson. &ldquo;Harry, don&#8217;t be
+troublesome to your uncle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A wax candle will be nicer and cleaner, uncle, and answer the same
+purpose. There&#8217;s one on the mantle-shelf. Let me light it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take care you don&#8217;t burn your fingers, or set any thing on fire,&rdquo; said
+Mrs. Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, uncle,&rdquo; commenced Harry, having drawn his chair to the side of Mr.
+Bagges, &ldquo;we have got our candle burning. What do you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me put on my spectacles,&rdquo; answered the uncle.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[Pg 525]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why&mdash;why, the flame draws it up, doesn&#8217;t it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&mdash;something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Capillary attraction, Harry,&rdquo; suggested Mr. Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, that&#8217;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&#8217;t say much more about this, or else you will tell me I am doing
+something very much like teaching my grandmother to&mdash;you know what.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your grandmother, eh, young sharpshins?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No&mdash;I mean my uncle. Now, I&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;although it doesn&#8217;t, but goes into several things, and isn&#8217;t it
+curious, as Professor Faraday said, that the candle should look so
+splendid and glorious in going away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How well he remembers, doesn&#8217;t he?&rdquo; observed Mrs. Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I dare say,&rdquo; proceeded Harry, &ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should say, fire,&rdquo; replied Uncle Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no! The flame is hollow. The bright flame we see is something no
+thicker than a thin peel, or skin; and it doesn&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish you&#8217;d do that, Harry,&rdquo; said Master Tom, the younger brother of
+the juvenile lecturer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want the proper things,&rdquo; answered Harry. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Case of flame!&rdquo; repeated Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;Live and learn. I should have
+thought a candle flame was as thick as my poor old noddle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can show you the contrary,&rdquo; said Harry. &ldquo;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&#8217;ll rub off the black of the smoke,
+and&mdash;there&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seeing is believing,&rdquo; remarked the uncle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But,&rdquo; proceeded Harry, &ldquo;there is more in the candle flame than the gas
+that comes out of the candle. You know a candle won&#8217;t burn without air.
+There must be always air around the gas, and touching it like to make it
+burn. If a candle hasn&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear me! Well, I suppose there is a reason for every thing,&rdquo; exclaimed
+the young philosopher&#8217;s mamma.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What should you say, now,&rdquo; continued Harry, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[Pg 526]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;Can you tell how it is that the little bits of carbon cause the
+brightness of the flame?&rdquo; asked Mr. Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because they are pieces of solid matter,&rdquo; answered Harry. &ldquo;To make a
+flame shine, there must always be some solid&mdash;or at least liquid&mdash;matter
+in it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; said Mr. Bagges&mdash;&ldquo;solid stuff necessary to brightness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some gases and other things,&rdquo; resumed Harry, &ldquo;that burn with a flame
+you can hardly see, burn splendidly when something solid is put into
+them. Oxygen and hydrogen&mdash;tell me if I use too hard words,
+uncle&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wonder,&rdquo; observed Uncle Bagges, &ldquo;what has made you such a bright
+youth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Taking after uncle, perhaps,&rdquo; retorted his nephew. &ldquo;Don&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So carbon is smoke, eh? and light is owing to your carbon. Giving light
+out of smoke, eh? as they say in the classics,&rdquo; observed Mr. Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what becomes of the candle,&rdquo; pursued Harry, &ldquo;as it burns away?
+where does it go?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nowhere,&rdquo; said his mamma, &ldquo;I should think. It burns to nothing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, dear, no!&rdquo; said Harry, &ldquo;every thing&mdash;every body goes somewhere.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh!&mdash;rather an important consideration that,&rdquo; Mr. Bagges moralized.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You can see it goes into smoke, which makes soot, for one thing,&rdquo;
+pursued Harry. &ldquo;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&mdash;just put your hand over the candle, uncle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, young gentleman, I had rather be excused.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not close enough down to burn you, uncle; higher up. There&mdash;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Water out of a candle, eh?&rdquo; exclaimed Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;As hard to get, I
+should have thought, as blood out of a post. Where does it come from?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh? Oh! I&#8217;m no hand at riddles. Give it up.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No riddle at all, uncle. The part that comes from the wax isn&#8217;t water,
+and the part that comes from the air isn&#8217;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&#8217;t be
+steam; it will be gas, which doesn&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; cried Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;Upon my word. One of these days, we shall have
+you setting the Thames on fire.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing more easy,&rdquo; said Harry, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[Pg 527]</a></span>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So do I,&rdquo; interposed Master Tom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so,&rdquo; resumed Harry, &ldquo;hydrogen, you know, uncle, is part of water,
+and just one-ninth part.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As hydrogen is to water, so is a tailor to an ordinary individual, eh?&rdquo;
+Mr. Bagges remarked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, now, then, uncle, if hydrogen is the tailor&#8217;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Out of the water? Fish for them, I should say,&rdquo; suggested Mr. Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, so we can,&rdquo; said Harry. &ldquo;Only instead of hooks and lines, we must
+use wires&mdash;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh? well&mdash;I suppose of those very identical two gases, young
+gentleman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stop&mdash;eh?&mdash;wait a bit&mdash;eh&mdash;oh!&mdash;why, the other eight-ninths, to be
+sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&#8217;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&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you manage that?&rdquo; Mr. Bagges inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You fill the jar with water,&rdquo; answered Harry, &ldquo;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 &lsquo;Jack Robinson.&#8217; Charcoal burns away in it
+as fast, with beautiful bright sparks&mdash;phosphorus with a light that
+dazzles you to look at&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, how jolly!&rdquo; exclaimed Tom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now we see, uncle,&rdquo; Harry continued, &ldquo;that water is hydrogen and oxygen
+united together, that water is got wherever hydrogen is burnt in common
+air, that a candle won&#8217;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From the air, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so. I can&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Makes a sort of gaseous grog of it, eh?&rdquo; said Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;But how is
+that proved?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&#8217;t know it from common
+air by the look; it has no color, taste, nor smell, and it won&#8217;t burn.
+But things won&#8217;t burn in it either; and any thing on fire put into it
+goes out directly. It isn&#8217;t fit to breathe; and a mouse, or any animal,
+shut up in it dies. It isn&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What a tallow-chandler&#8217;s bill we should have!&rdquo; remarked Mrs. Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[Pg 528]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;&lsquo;If a house were on fire in oxygen,&#8217; as Professor Faraday said, &lsquo;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.&#8217;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That would be, indeed, burning &lsquo;like a house on fire,&#8217;&rdquo; observed Mr.
+Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Think,&#8217;&rdquo; said Harry, continuing his quotation, &ldquo;&lsquo;of the Houses of
+Parliament, or a steam-engine manufactory. Think of an iron-proof
+chest&mdash;no proof against oxygen. Think of a locomotive and its
+train&mdash;every engine, every carriage, and even every rail would be set on
+fire and burnt up.&#8217; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Eh?&rdquo; said Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;Well, I will say I do think we are under
+considerable obligations to nitrogen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have explained to you, uncle,&rdquo; pursued Harry, &ldquo;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&#8217;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&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of which it is advisable carefully to keep to the windward,&rdquo; Mr.
+Wilkinson observed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The most curious thing about carbonic acid gas,&rdquo; proceeded Harry, &ldquo;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&#8217; 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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope with your candle you&#8217;ll throw some light upon the subject,&rdquo; said
+Uncle Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I hope so,&rdquo; answered Harry. &ldquo;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&#8217;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&#8217;t
+it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ahem! Strange, if true,&rdquo; answered Mr. Bagges. &ldquo;Eh? well! I suppose it&#8217;s
+all right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With all my heart,&rdquo; assented Mr. Bagges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I said that there was carbon or charcoal in all common lights&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The diamond, eh? You mean the black diamond.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; the diamond, really and truly. The diamond is only carbon in the
+shape of a crystal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[Pg 529]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;Eh? and can&#8217;t some of your clever chemists crystallize a little bit of
+carbon, and make a Koh-i-noor?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haven&#8217;t you pretty nearly come to your candle&#8217;s end?&rdquo; said Mr.
+Wilkinson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So,&rdquo; said Mr. Bagges, &ldquo;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">&ldquo;&lsquo;Out, out, brief candle!&#8217;<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well; we old ones are moulds, and you young squires are dips and
+rushlights, eh? Any more to tell us about the candle?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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,&rdquo; added Mr. Bagges, &ldquo;I am very glad to find you so
+fond of study and science: and you deserve to be encouraged: and so I&#8217;ll
+give you a what-d&#8217;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.&rdquo;</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.&mdash;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&#8217;
+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&#8217;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&mdash;Hallberg&#8217;s father lived on a small pension,
+by means of which he defrayed the expenses of his son&#8217;s schooling at the
+cost of the government; while Wensleben&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;s grief, and passed the
+few remaining days that were allowed him at the academy by Edward&#8217;s
+side, who husbanded every moment of his Ferdinand&#8217;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. &ldquo;No,&rdquo; thought Edward, &ldquo;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&mdash;he will not die before me. Providence will
+not leave me alone in the world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The lonely Edward strove hard to console himself, for after Ferdinand&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;far off&rdquo; districts&mdash;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&mdash;the cordiality of the people, the
+wild, picturesque scenery, nay, the very legends themselves were
+entirely to Hallberg&#8217;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&#8217;s nature. The riddle was soon solved. Ferdinand&#8217;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. &ldquo;You know that I love,&rdquo; he wrote, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Such was the usual tenor of the letters which Edward received during
+that period. His heart was full of anxiety&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s remembrance
+of him after death. Now two months had already passed since Ferdinand&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s squadron was quartered in the lowlands, about a short day&#8217;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&mdash;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. &ldquo;Friedenberg!&rdquo; 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&#8217;s nest. The tinkling of
+the bells on Edward&#8217;s sledge attracted the attention of the inmates; the
+door was opened with prompt hospitality&mdash;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&#8217; 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&#8217;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
+&ldquo;good old times,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Come, now, lieutenant,&rdquo; said the baron, &ldquo;I must introduce you to my
+family. You are no such a stranger to us, as you fancy.&rdquo;</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 &ldquo;far-away&rdquo; 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&mdash;the same into which
+Edward had first been ushered. Here, in the background, some other
+characters appeared on the scene&mdash;the agent, a couple of subalterns, and
+the physician. The guests ranged themselves round the table. Edward&#8217;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&#8217;s shoulder, and said, in a low whisper,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My love, we are thirteen&mdash;that will never do.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;My wife,&rdquo; said Friedenberg, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[Pg 533]</a></span>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This idea is not confined to the mountains. I know many people in the
+capital who think with the baroness,&rdquo; said Edward. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, yes, lieutenant,&rdquo; replied the baroness, smiling good-humoredly, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That which is really good and beautiful can never appear out of date,&rdquo;
+rejoined Edward, courteously; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is always the effect which simplicity has on every unspoiled
+mind,&rdquo; answered Friedenberg; &ldquo;but townspeople have seldom a taste for
+such things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was partly educated on my father&#8217;s estate,&rdquo; said Edward, &ldquo;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&#8217;s, for the general
+aspect is quite the same here as with us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the chaplain, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On that account the prejudice against the number thirteen was
+especially familiar to me,&rdquo; replied Edward. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, here, almost more than any where else,&rdquo; continued the chaplain. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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, &ldquo;Even here, in this castle&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here!&rdquo; inquired Edward, &ldquo;in this very castle?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, yes, lieutenant!&rdquo; interposed the baron, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And yet,&rdquo; said Edward, &ldquo;the castle looks so cheerful, so habitable.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, this part which we live in,&rdquo; answered the baron; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are some who maintain,&rdquo; said the physician, &ldquo;that a part of the
+walls of the eastern tower itself are of Roman origin; but that would
+surely be difficult to prove.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, gentlemen,&rdquo; observed the baroness, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed, madam,&rdquo; replied the chaplain, &ldquo;this is not entirely foreign to
+the subject, since in the most ancient part of the building lies the
+chamber in question.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where apparitions have been seen?&rdquo; inquired Edward, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not exactly,&rdquo; replied the baroness; &ldquo;there is nothing fearful to be
+seen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, let us tell him at once,&rdquo; interrupted the baron. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then,&rdquo; interposed Edward, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just so,&rdquo; said the physician, &ldquo;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&mdash;the
+locality does it all. Every one who sleeps in that room has his
+mysterious dream, and the result proves its truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At least in most instances,&rdquo; continued the baron, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly, baron; and I have been wishing for a long time to ask an
+explanation of these words.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have often heard your name mentioned by a particular friend of
+yours&mdash;one who could never, pronounce it without emotion.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; cried Edward, who now saw clearly why the baron&#8217;s name had sounded
+familiar to him also; &ldquo;ah! you speak of my friend Hallberg; truly do you
+say, we were indeed dear to each other.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Were!&rdquo; 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&#8217;s voice and countenance; &ldquo;can the blooming,
+vigorous youth be&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dead!&rdquo; exclaimed Edward; and the baron deeply regretted that he had
+touched so tender a chord, as he saw the young officer&#8217;s eyes fill with
+tears, and a dark cloud pass over his animated features.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Forgive me,&rdquo; he continued, while he leaned forward and pressed his
+companion&#8217;s hand; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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&#8217;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&#8217;s hand, and felt almost as if he were in his father&#8217;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>&ldquo;Would it be impossible for me to be quartered there,&rdquo; he began, rather
+timidly; &ldquo;I should like it of all things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Really!&rdquo; inquired the baron, rather surprised; &ldquo;have not our ghost
+stories alarmed you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On the contrary,&rdquo; was the reply, &ldquo;they have excited the most earnest
+wish&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then, if that be the case,&rdquo; said the baron, &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly not,&rdquo; exclaimed Edward; &ldquo;I could only long for such
+dreams.&rdquo;</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. &ldquo;A beautiful room!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Answer me one
+question, baron, if you please. Did he ever sleep here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; replied Friedenberg; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what was it?&rdquo; inquired Edward, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wonderful! He always had a similar foreboding, and many a time has he
+grieved me by alluding to it,&rdquo; said Edward; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was a superior man,&rdquo; answered the baron, &ldquo;whose memory will ever be
+dear to us. But now I will detain you no longer. Good-night. Here is the
+bell,&rdquo; he showed him the cord in between the curtains; &ldquo;and your servant
+sleeps in the next room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you are too careful of me,&rdquo; said Edward, smiling; &ldquo;I am used to
+sleep by myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still,&rdquo; replied the baron, &ldquo;every precaution should be taken. Now, once
+more, good night.&rdquo;</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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;s spirit
+were among the blest&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;it assumed a form&mdash;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>&ldquo;Ferdinand, Ferdinand!&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;Ah! you are dead,&rdquo; continued the speaker; &ldquo;and why then do I see you
+just as you looked when living?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Edward,&rdquo; answered the apparition, in a voice that sounded as if it came
+from afar, &ldquo;I am dead, but my spirit has no peace.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are not with the blest?&rdquo; cried Edward, in a voice of terror.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God is merciful,&rdquo; it replied; &ldquo;but we are frail and sinful creatures;
+inquire no more, but pray for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With all my heart,&rdquo; cried Edward, in a tone of anguish, while he gazed
+with affection on the familiar features; &ldquo;but speak, what can I do for
+thee?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo; He slipped a small
+gold ring from his left hand. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With joy&mdash;but where, where am I to seek it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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,&rdquo;
+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&#8217;s eyes&mdash;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&mdash;some images, some sounds&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s hand, and the color forsook his cheeks as
+he read the two words &ldquo;Emily Varnier&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&mdash;the
+torrents were flowing once more, and the roads impassable.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How can you possibly reach Blumenberg, to-day?&rdquo; the baron inquired of
+his guest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That will be well nigh impossible,&rdquo; said the doctor. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;Yes! but I must try how far&mdash;-&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That you shall not do,&rdquo; interrupted the baron. &ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall not certainly regret either,&rdquo; cried Edward, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, then, remain with us, lieutenant,&rdquo; said the matron, lying her
+hand on his arm, with a kind, maternal gesture. &ldquo;You are heartily
+welcome; and the longer you stay with us, the better shall we be
+pleased.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The youth bowed, and raised the lady&#8217;s hand to his lips, and said,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you will allow me&mdash;if you feel certain that I am not intruding&mdash;I
+will accept, your kind offer with joy. I never care much for a ball, at
+any time, and to-day in particular&mdash;&rdquo; he stopped short, and then added,
+&ldquo;In such bad weather as this, the small amusement&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Would be dearly bought,&rdquo; interposed the baron. &ldquo;Come, I am delighted
+you will remain with us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He shook Edward warmly by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know you are with old friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And, besides,&rdquo; said the doctor, with disinterested solicitude, &ldquo;it
+would be imprudent, for M. de Wensleben does not look very well. Had you
+a good night, sir?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very good,&rdquo; replied Edward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Without much dreaming?&rdquo; continued the other, pertinaciously</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dreaming! oh, nothing wonderful,&rdquo; answered the officer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hem!&rdquo; said the doctor, shaking his head, portentously. &ldquo;No one yet&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Were I to relate my dream,&rdquo; replied Edward, &ldquo;you would understand it no
+more than I did. Confused images&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The baroness, who saw the youth&#8217;s unwillingness to enlarge upon the
+subject, here observed,</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That some of the visions had been of no great importance&mdash;those which
+she had heard related, at least.&rdquo;</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>&ldquo;I answered in that manner,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said the baron, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have seen and spoken with my Ferdinand, for the first time since his
+death. I will trust to your kindness&mdash;your sympathy&mdash;not to require of
+me a description of this exciting vision. But I have a question to put
+to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Which I will answer in all candor, if it be possible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you know the name of Emily Varnier?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Varnier!&mdash;certainly not.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is there no one in this neighborhood who bears that name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No one; it sounds like a foreign name.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the bed in which I slept I found this ring,&rdquo; said Edward, while he
+produced it; and the apparition of my friend pronounced that name.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wonderful! As I tell you, I know no one so called&mdash;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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.&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;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&#8217;s corps.
+&ldquo;For,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I come from charming quarters.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is not much to boast of,&rdquo; replied the captain. &ldquo;There is no good
+fellowship, no harmony among the people.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will tell you why that is,&rdquo; cried an animated lieutenant; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, we have had nothing of that kind since the Varniers left us,&rdquo; said
+the captain.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Varniers!&rdquo; cried Edward, with an eagerness he could ill conceal. &ldquo;The
+name sounds foreign.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They were not Germans&mdash;they were emigrants from the Netherlands, who
+had left their country on account of political troubles,&rdquo; replied the
+captain.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, that was a charming house,&rdquo; cried the lieutenant, &ldquo;cultivation,
+refinement, a sufficient competency, the whole style of the
+establishment free from ostentation, yet most comfortable; and
+Emily&mdash;Emily was the soul of the whole house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Emily Varnier!&rdquo; echoed Edward, while his heart beat fast and loud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, yes! that was the name of the prettiest, most graceful, most
+amiable girl in the world,&rdquo; said the lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You seem bewitched by the fair Emily,&rdquo; observed the cornet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think you would have been too, had you known her;&rdquo; rejoined the
+lieutenant; &ldquo;she was the jewel of the whole society. Since she went away
+there is no bearing their stupid balls and assemblies.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you must not forget,&rdquo; the captain resumed once more, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, yes; exactly so,&rdquo; said an old gentleman, a civilian, who had been
+silent hitherto; &ldquo;the Varniers&#8217; 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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And did this cousin marry the young lady?&rdquo; inquired Edward, in a tone
+tremulous with agitation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; answered the old gentleman; &ldquo;it was a very great match for
+her; he bought land to the value of half a million about here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And he was an agreeable, handsome man, we must all allow,&rdquo; remarked the
+captain.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But she would never have married him,&rdquo; exclaimed the lieutenant, &ldquo;if
+poor Hallberg had not died.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Edward was breathless, but he did not speak a word.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She would have been compelled to do so in any case,&rdquo; said the old man;
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That sounds terrible,&rdquo; said Edward; &ldquo;and does not speak much for the
+good feeling of the cousin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She could not have fulfilled her father&#8217;s wish,&rdquo; interposed the
+lieutenant; &ldquo;her heart was bound up in Hallberg, and Hallberg&#8217;s in her.
+Few people, perhaps, knew this, for the lovers were prudent and
+discreet; I, however, knew it all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And why was she not allowed to follow the inclination of her heart?&rdquo;
+asked Edward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because her father had promised her,&rdquo; replied the captain: &ldquo;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&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and the headlong passion which Emily inspired her cousin with
+abetted his designs.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then her cousin loved Emily?&rdquo; inquired Edward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, to desperation,&rdquo; was the reply; <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[Pg 538]</a></span>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then poor Emily is not likely to have a calm life with such a man,&rdquo;
+said Edward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come,&rdquo; interposed the old gentleman, with an authoritative tone, &ldquo;I
+think you, gentlemen, go a little too far. I know D&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And trembles,&rdquo; insisted the lieutenant, &ldquo;when she hears her husband&#8217;s
+footstep. What good can riches be to her? She would have been happier
+with Hallberg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not know,&rdquo; rejoined the captain, &ldquo;why you always looked upon that
+attachment as something so decided. It never appeared so to me; and you
+yourself say that D&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay
+would have discovered a rival in Hallberg, and not proved himself the
+friend he always was to our poor comrade.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That does not follow at all,&rdquo; rejoined the lieutenant, &ldquo;it only proves
+that the lovers were very cautious. So far, however, I agree with you. I
+believe that if D&#8217;Effernay had suspected any thing of the kind he would
+have murdered Hallberg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A shudder passed through Edward&#8217;s veins.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murdered!&rdquo; he repeated in a hollow voice; &ldquo;do you not judge too harshly
+of this man when you hint the possibility of such a thing?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That does he, indeed,&rdquo; said the old man; &ldquo;these gentlemen are all angry
+with D&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Really,&rdquo; inquired the captain, &ldquo;and where is he going?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have no idea,&rdquo; replied the other; &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The conversation now turned on the value of D&#8217;Effernay&#8217;s property, and
+of land in general, &amp;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s name. D&#8217;Effernay seemed pleased with all he said. He had known
+Edward&#8217;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&#8217;s heart beat
+violently&mdash;at length then he would see her! Had he loved her himself he
+could not have gone to meet her with more agitation. D&#8217;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&#8217;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>&ldquo;My love,&rdquo; said D&#8217;Effernay, &ldquo;I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant
+Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate.&rdquo;</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&mdash;in fact, all those
+charms which seemed familiar to him through the impassioned descriptions
+of his friend.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But what can this fancy be, to sit in the dark?&rdquo; asked D&#8217;Effernay, in
+no mild tone; &ldquo;you know that is a thing I can not bear:&rdquo; and with these
+words, and without waiting his wife&#8217;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&#8217;s real beauty&mdash;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&#8217;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&mdash;all that he had heard from
+his comrades of the man&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;even before he had heard her name&mdash;she was
+known to him, so to speak, in spirit.</p>
+
+<p>Madame D&#8217;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>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she could say no more; tears checked her speech.</p>
+
+<p>Edward&#8217;s eyes were glistening also, and the two companions were silent;
+at length he began once more:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear lady,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;my time is short, and I have a solemn message
+to deliver to you. Will you allow me to do so now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To me?&rdquo; she asked, in a tone of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From my departed friend,&rdquo; answered Edward, emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From Ferdinand? and that now&mdash;after&mdash;&rdquo; she shrunk back, as if in
+terror.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo; He produced the ring. Emily seized it wildly, and trembled as
+she looked upon it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is indeed my ring,&rdquo; she said at length, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;
+She wept, and pressed the ring to her lips.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see that my friend&#8217;s memory is dear to you,&rdquo; continued Edward. &ldquo;You
+will forgive the prayer I am about to make to you; my visit to you
+concerns his ring.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How&mdash;what is it you wish?&rdquo; cried Emily, terrified.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was <em>his</em> wish,&rdquo; replied Edward. &ldquo;He evinced an earnest desire to
+have this pledge of an unfortunate and unfulfilled engagement restored.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There was no time for it! that is true,&rdquo; answered Edward, with an
+inward, shudder, although outwardly he was calm. &ldquo;Perhaps this wish was
+awakened immediately before his death. I found it, as I told you,
+expressed in those papers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Incomprehensible!&rdquo; she exclaimed. &ldquo;Only a short time before his death,
+we cherished&mdash;deceitful, indeed, they proved, but, oh, what blessed
+hopes!&mdash;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&mdash;yet since&mdash;Oh, my God!&rdquo; 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&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am gone,&rdquo; cried Edward, springing from his chair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No! no!&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;you are my guest; remain here. I have a
+household duty which calls me away.&rdquo; 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&#8217;s &ldquo;Night Thoughts.&rdquo; 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&#8217;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>&ldquo;Where is my wife?&rdquo; was D&#8217;Effernay&#8217;s first question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She is gone to fulfill some household duty,&rdquo; replied the other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And leaves you here alone in this miserable darkness? Most
+extraordinary!&mdash;indeed, most unaccountable!&rdquo; and, as he spoke, he
+approached the table and snuffed the candles, with a movement of
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She left me here with old friends,&rdquo; said Edward, with a forced smile.
+&ldquo;I have been reading.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What, in the dark?&rdquo; inquired D&#8217;Effernay, with a look of distrust. &ldquo;It
+was so dark when I came in, that you could not possibly have
+distinguished a letter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I read for some time, and then I fell into a train of thought, which is
+usually the result of reading Young&#8217;s &ldquo;Night Thoughts.&rdquo;&#8221;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Young! I can not bear that author. He is so gloomy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you are fortunately so happy, that the lamentations of the lonely
+mourner can find no echo in your breast.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You think so!&rdquo; said D&#8217;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>&ldquo;You have been a long time away,&rdquo; was his observation, as he looked into
+her eyes, where the trace of tears might easily be detected. &ldquo;I found
+our guest alone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me,&rdquo; she replied, &ldquo;and then I
+thought you would be back immediately.&rdquo;</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&#8217;s ill humor.</p>
+
+<p>In this attempt the young man assisted her, and at last they were
+successful. D&#8217;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&mdash;of his friend, and
+his friend&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay came in, in his dressing-gown, as if he
+had just left his bed: and now in Edward&#8217;s mind dreams and realities
+were mingled together, and he thought that D&#8217;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&#8217;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, &amp;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&#8217;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&#8217;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, &amp;c., &amp;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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>&ldquo;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&#8217;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&#8217;s greatest
+joy, for there was an old and crying injustice which the ancestors of
+D&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s lived. He liked the
+neighborhood; he bought land; we lived very happily; I was quite
+contented in Jules&#8217;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;but let me glance quickly at the terrible time, the
+memory of which can never pass from my mind&mdash;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!&rdquo;</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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;s
+room, smoking together, they could not but do justice to his courteous
+manners.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He appears to be a man of general information,&rdquo; remarked Edward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yet he appears very attentive to his wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Undoubtedly he is wildly in love with her; yet he makes her unhappy,
+and himself too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He certainly does not appear happy, there is so much restlessness.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[Pg 543]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is the complaint of many who are rich and well to do in the
+world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; only not in the same degree. I assure you it has often struck me
+that man must have a bad conscience.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What an idea!&rdquo; rejoined Edward, with a forced laugh, for the captain&#8217;s
+remark struck him forcibly. &ldquo;He seems a man of honor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, perhaps, that is her natural complexion and expression.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no! no! the year before D&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallberg never mentioned the name in his letters,&rdquo; answered Edward,
+with less candor than usual.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I thought not. Besides D&#8217;Effernay was very much attached to him, and
+mourned his death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I assure you the morning that Hallberg was found dead in his bed so
+unexpectedly, D&#8217;Effernay was like one beside himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Very extraordinary. But as we are on the subject, tell me, I pray you,
+all the circumstances of my poor Ferdinand&#8217;s illness, and awfully sudden
+death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And how, how was the death first discovered?&rdquo; inquired Edward, in
+breathless eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Incomprehensible,&rdquo; said Edward, with a deep sigh. &ldquo;Did they take no
+measures to restore animation?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</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: &ldquo;and where was D&#8217;Effernay?&rdquo; he inquired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;D&#8217;Effernay,&rdquo; answered the captain, rather surprised at the question;
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; answered Edward, whose suspicions were being more and more
+confirmed every moment. &ldquo;And did he see the corpse? did he go into the
+chamber of death?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied the captain; &ldquo;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&#8217;Effernay, are incapable of performing
+those duties which others think it necessary and incumbent on them to
+fulfill.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And where was Hallberg buried?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am glad of it,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;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?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not less than four leagues, certainly. D&#8217;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.&rdquo;</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&mdash;they were those of Hallberg and of D&#8217;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&#8217;s letter, left scarcely the shadow of a doubt
+remaining as to how his friend had left the world.</p>
+
+<p>D&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;s grave, and then he would separate from
+D&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay would give orders to the coachman to make a round of a mile
+or two, as far as the village of &mdash;&mdash;, with whose rector he was
+particularly desirous to speak. A momentary cloud gathered on
+D&#8217;Effernay&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;s restless spirit, one quarter of an hour appeared
+interminable.</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter can not detain him long.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What on earth can he have to do here?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy&mdash;the enthusiasm of youth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It has a name, I suppose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly, but&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is it sufficiently important, think you, to make us run the risk of
+being benighted on such roads as these?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, it is quite early in the day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But we have more than two leagues to go. Why will you not speak? there
+can not be any great mystery.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, perhaps not a mystery exactly, but just one of those subjects on
+which we are usually reserved with others.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;So! so!&rdquo; rejoined D&#8217;Effernay, with a little sneer. &ldquo;Some love affair;
+some girl or another who pursues him, that he wants to get rid of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing of the kind, I can assure you,&rdquo; replied the captain, drily. &ldquo;It
+could scarcely be more innocent. He wishes, in fact, to visit his
+friend&#8217;s grave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The listener&#8217;s expression was one of scorn and anger. &ldquo;It is worth the
+trouble, certainly,&rdquo; he exclaimed, with a mocking laugh. &ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No more he had; neither did he know where poor Hallberg was buried
+until I told him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallberg!&rdquo; echoed the other in a tone that startled the captain, and
+caused him to turn and look fixedly in the speaker&#8217;s face. It was deadly
+pale, and the captain observed the effort which D&#8217;Effernay made to
+recover his composure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hallberg!&rdquo; he repeated again, in a calmer tone, &ldquo;and was Wensleben a
+friend of his?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[Pg 545]</a></span></p><p>&ldquo;His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the
+academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed!&rdquo; said D&#8217;Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up
+into a passion. &ldquo;And this lieutenant came here on this account, then,
+and the purchase of the estates was a mere excuse?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; observed the captain, in a decided tone of voice;
+&ldquo;I have already told you that it was I who informed him of the place
+where his friend lies buried.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That does not appear likely,&rdquo; replied the captain, who thought it
+better to avert, if possible, the rising storm of his companion&#8217;s fury.
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I don&#8217;t know,&rdquo; cried D&#8217;Effernay, whose passion increased every
+moment. &ldquo;Perhaps you have heard what was once gossiped about the
+neighborhood, that Hallberg was an admirer of my wife before she
+married.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh yes, I have heard that report, but never believed it. Hallberg was a
+prudent, steady man, and every one knew that Mademoiselle Varnier&#8217;s hand
+had been promised for some time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Shame! shame! M. D&#8217;Effernay. How can you slander the character of that
+upright young man? If Hallberg were so unhappy as to love Mademoiselle
+Varnier&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That he did! you may believe me so far. I had reason to know it, and I
+did know it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&#8217;Effernay&mdash;you were his friend.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I his friend? I hated him; I loathed him!&rdquo; D&#8217;Effernay could not
+proceed; he foamed at the mouth with rage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Compose yourself!&rdquo; said the captain, rising as he spoke, &ldquo;you look and
+speak like a madman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A madman! Who says I am mad? Now I see it all&mdash;- the connection of the
+whole&mdash;the shameful conspiracy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your conduct is perfectly incomprehensible to me,&rdquo; answered the
+captain, with perfect coolness. &ldquo;Did you not attend Hallberg in his last
+illness, and give him his medicines with your own hand?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I!&rdquo; stammered D&#8217;Effernay. &ldquo;No! no! no!&rdquo; he cried, while the captain&#8217;s
+growing suspicions increased every moment, on account of the
+perturbation which his companion displayed. &ldquo;I never gave his
+medicines; whoever says that is a liar.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I say it!&rdquo; exclaimed the officer, in a loud tone, for his patience was
+exhausted. &ldquo;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!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>D&#8217;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&#8217;s side in a moment. But the
+loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and
+there he stood on D&#8217;Effernay&#8217;s return; and by his side a venerable old
+man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In heaven&#8217;s name, what has happened?&rdquo; cried Wensleben.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you about to do?&rdquo; interposed the rector, in a tone of
+authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror. &ldquo;Are you
+going to commit murder on this sacred spot, close to the precincts of
+the church?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Murder! who speaks of murder?&rdquo; cried D&#8217;Effernay. &ldquo;Who can prove it?&rdquo;
+and as he spoke, the captain turned a fierce, penetrating look upon him,
+beneath which he quailed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, I repeat the question,&rdquo; Edward began once more, &ldquo;what does all
+this mean? I left you a short time ago in friendly conversation. I come
+back and find you both armed&mdash;both violently agitated&mdash;and M.
+D&#8217;Effernay, at least, speaking incoherently. What do you mean by
+&lsquo;proving it?&#8217;&mdash;to what do you allude?&rdquo; 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, &ldquo;I am
+quite ready, sir, if you have the key of the church-yard.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was now the captain&#8217;s turn to look anxious: &ldquo;What are you going to
+do, you surely don&#8217;t intend&mdash;?&rdquo; but, as he spoke, the rector interrupted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This gentleman is very desirous to see the place where his friend lies
+buried.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But these preparations, what do they mean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will tell you,&rdquo; said Edward, in a voice and tone that betrayed the
+deepest emotion, &ldquo;I have a holy duty to perform. I must cause the coffin
+to be opened.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How, what?&rdquo; screamed D&#8217;Effernay, once again. &ldquo;Never&mdash;I will never
+permit such a thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, sir,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;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.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you I will not suffer it,&rdquo; continued D&#8217;Effernay, with the same
+frightful agitation. &ldquo;Stir at your peril,&rdquo; 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>&ldquo;M. D&#8217;Effernay,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;your conduct for the last half-hour has been
+most unaccountable&mdash;most unreasonable.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come, come,&rdquo; interposed Edward, &ldquo;let us say no more on the subject; but
+let us be going,&rdquo; he addressed the rector; &ldquo;we will not detain these
+gentlemen much longer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He made a step toward the church-yard, but D&#8217;Effernay clutched his arm,
+and, with an impious oath, &ldquo;you shall not stir,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;that grave
+shall not be opened.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Edward shook him off, with a look of silent hatred, for now indeed all
+his doubts were confirmed.</p>
+
+<p>D&#8217;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>&ldquo;You are going!&rdquo; he cried, with every gesture and appearance of
+insanity. &ldquo;Go, then;&rdquo; ... 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the
+cause of Hallberg&#8217;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&#8217;Effernay&#8217;s death, and all the
+awful circumstances attending it, but twice&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;history of an
+individual mind&rdquo;), 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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;Conclusion.&rdquo;</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&#8217;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;dead-sea apes&rdquo; 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&mdash;repulsive and attractive&mdash;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 &ldquo;pshaw&rdquo; and &ldquo;pooh&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&mdash;the development of his own great
+powers&mdash;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&#8217;s Wells, are
+portrayed with simple force and delicate discrimination; and for the
+most part skillfully contrasted with the rural life of the poet&#8217;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&#8217;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.&mdash;<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 &amp; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;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 &pound;500, and the work prove to be a
+&ldquo;palpable hit&rdquo; worth &pound;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 &ldquo;grasping&rdquo; he may be, who has
+not, time after time, paid to authors sums of money not &ldquo;in the bond.&rdquo;
+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 &pound;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&mdash;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&#8217;s books,
+must make it by another&#8217;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;reader&rdquo;&mdash;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 &ldquo;reader.&rdquo; It is well known that in some large publishing
+houses there is a resident &ldquo;reader&rdquo; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;res angusta <em>domi</em>&rdquo; 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&mdash;the systematic
+orderly habits&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;history or science&mdash;to the reading
+world, may dine at home every day with their children, ring the bell at
+ten o&#8217;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&mdash;in many cases till <em>long</em>
+past&mdash;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&#8217;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, &ldquo;seems
+vice may be but woe.&rdquo; 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&mdash;the disorderly home&mdash;the neglected business&mdash;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&mdash;if his
+literary avocations are of that nature that they can be followed at
+home&mdash;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;Billy Button.&rdquo; William was
+informed by some &ldquo;kind friend,&rdquo; of the existence and nature of the
+pamphlet, and his observation was, that the man would live to repent of
+its publication. &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; said the libeler, when informed of this remark,
+&ldquo;he thinks that some time or other I shall be in his debt, but I will
+take good care of that.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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 &ldquo;Billy Button&rdquo; was in. He entered, and William
+Grant, who was alone, rather sternly bid him, &ldquo;shut the door, sir!&rdquo; The
+libeler trembled before the libeled. He told his tale, and produced his
+certificate, which was instantly clutched by the injured merchant. &ldquo;You
+wrote a pamphlet against us once,&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;rogue,
+scoundrel, libeler,&rdquo; instead of which, there was written only the
+signature of the firm, completing the bankrupt&#8217;s certificate. &ldquo;We make
+it a rule,&rdquo; said Mr. Grant, &ldquo;never to refuse signing the certificate of
+an honest tradesman, and we have never heard that you were any thing
+else.&rdquo; The tears started into the poor man&#8217;s eyes. &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; continued Mr.
+Grant, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; &ldquo;I do, I do,&rdquo; said the grateful man, &ldquo;I do,
+indeed, bitterly repent it.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, well, my dear fellow, you know us
+now. How do you get on? What are you going to do?&rdquo; The poor man stated
+that he had friends who could assist him when his certificate was
+obtained. &ldquo;But how are you off in the mean time?&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;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&mdash;there,
+there, my dear fellow&mdash;nay, don&#8217;t cry&mdash;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.&rdquo; The overpowered man endeavored in vain to express
+his thanks&mdash;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&mdash;&ldquo;Well, how do you go on in establishing schools for
+infants?&rdquo; The reply was, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; He said, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;We lost &pound;200 by him,&rdquo; said
+Mr. Grant; &ldquo;and how do you expect I should subscribe, for his widow?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Because,&rdquo; answered one of them, &ldquo;what you have lost by the husband does
+not alter the widow&#8217;s claim on your benevolence.&rdquo; &ldquo;Neither it shall,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;here are five pounds, and if you can not make up the sum you
+want for her, come to me, and I&#8217;ll give you more.&rdquo;</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!&mdash;<cite>Chambers&#8217; 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, &amp;c. They will all have the same experiences to relate of
+the marvelous failures of men of genius and learning&mdash;the crude cumbrous
+state in which they have sent their so-called articles for
+publication&mdash;the labor it has taken to mould their fine thoughts and
+valuable erudition into comely shape&mdash;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 &ldquo;botchers&rdquo; in such abundance, capable only of &ldquo;a distracted
+puckering and botching&mdash;not sewing&mdash;only a fallacious hope of it&mdash;a fond
+imagination of the mind;&rdquo; 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&mdash;so little article-writing, and so much
+&ldquo;distracted puckering and botching.&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&mdash;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 &ldquo;by art not chance.&rdquo; The efforts
+of chance writers, if they be men of genius and learning, are things to
+break one&#8217;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 &ldquo;thousands of clever fellows.&rdquo; Thousands of
+clever fellows, fortified by Mr. Thackeray&#8217;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&#8217;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
+&ldquo;literary hack&rdquo; will do the thing much better.</p>
+
+<p>If there be any set of men&mdash;we can not call it a <em>class</em>, for it is
+drawn from all classes&mdash;who might be supposed to possess&#8217; 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&mdash;of collecting facts and illustrations&mdash;of arranging
+arguments&mdash;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&mdash;another to write an article. But the speech often, no less than
+the article, requires editorial supervision. The reporter is the
+speaker&#8217;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 &ldquo;connected with the
+press;&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;clever fellows,&rdquo; 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 &pound;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&#8217;s brothers, like himself a resident at Madras. The
+brother and sister, it appears, kept up an affectionate and constant
+correspondence&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;personal
+attractions she had none. The future hero of Plassy was not, however, to
+be deterred&mdash;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 &pound;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&#8217; 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&#8217;s &ldquo;Anecdotes of the Aristocracy:&rdquo;</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&#8217;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">&ldquo;If I survive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will have five.&rdquo;<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 &ldquo;the devil owed her a
+grudge, and would punish her for her sins.&rdquo; 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 &ldquo;widow&#8217;s jointured land,&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&#8217;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, &ldquo;they should not be back by dinner-time.&rdquo; &ldquo;Be not the
+least uneasy on that account,&rdquo; rejoined Macguire; &ldquo;we do not dine to-day
+at Tewing, but at Chester, whither we are journeying.&rdquo; Vain were all the
+lady&#8217;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&#8217;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? &ldquo;Perfectly so,&rdquo; 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&#8217;s health, and begging to know whether there was any thing at
+table that she would like to eat? The answer was always&mdash;&ldquo;Lady
+Cathcart&#8217;s compliments, and she has every thing she wants.&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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: &ldquo;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&mdash;and which led to our application to a
+publisher&mdash;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&mdash;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&#8217;s
+printing office, in Craig&#8217;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&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;a step which we all deeply regretted, and thought
+scarcely justified by the provocation. Nothing of the kind occurred ever
+after.&rdquo;</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 &pound;700 for editing each number.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The &ldquo;<cite>Economist</cite>&rdquo; closes an article upon the late Sir <span class="smcap">Robert Peel</span> with
+the following just and eloquent summation:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;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&mdash;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&mdash;independent of office, independent of party&mdash;one of the
+acknowledged potentates of Europe; face to face, in the evening of life,
+with his work and his reward&mdash;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.&rdquo;</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>Athen&aelig;um</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&mdash;more especially in Germany, France,
+Holland, Belgium and Switzerland&mdash;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&mdash;the deterioration toward two great classes of very rich and very
+poor&mdash;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&mdash;<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 &ldquo;most delicately
+worked and highly finished.&rdquo; 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>.&mdash;Literary men talk less than they did.
+They seldom &ldquo;lay out&rdquo; 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&#8217;s table, not to make him chary of
+his offerings. In these days, every scrap of knowledge&mdash;every happy
+thought&mdash;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&#8217;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>.&mdash;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 &pound;1000 to &pound;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&mdash;who had appeared, indeed, to have written
+themselves out so thoroughly, that the proprietors were fain to dispense
+with their future services&mdash;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 &ldquo;the sabre of honor&rdquo; 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. &ldquo;He shoots flames from his eyes and scatters
+flowers from his lips,&rdquo; 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 m&egrave;tre 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 m&egrave;tres. 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s prose writings would form a valuable addition to
+English literature.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Wordsworth&#8217;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;old man eloquent&rdquo; 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
+&aelig;terna</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&#8217; 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&mdash;Swedish iron&mdash;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. Tr&eacute;maux, 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&#8217; distance, in the mountains of
+Zaby and Akaro, negro tribes are found whose sheep are hairy. According
+to M. Tr&eacute;vaux, &lsquo;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.&#8217; 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&mdash;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&mdash;that wool will
+give place to hair, and <span class="for" lang="la" xml:lang="la">vice vers&acirc;</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&#8217;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&mdash;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&deg; 30&#8242;. 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&#8217;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&deg; 30&#8242; 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>&mdash;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&mdash;34.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Nays</span>.&mdash;Messrs. Atchison, Barnwell, Berrien, Butler, Clemens, Davis, of
+Mississippi, Dawson, Foote, Hunter, King, Mason, Morton, Pratt, Rusk,
+Sebastian, Soul&eacute;, Turney, and Yulee&mdash;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, Soul&eacute;, 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&deg; west longitude intersects the
+parallel of 36&deg; 30&#8242; 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:</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Yeas</span>.&mdash;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&mdash;30.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Nays</span>.&mdash;Messrs. Atchison, Baldwin, Barnwell, Benton, Butler, Chase,
+Davis, of Mississippi, Dodge, of Wisconsin, Ewing, Hale, Hunter, Mason,
+Morton, Seward, Soul&eacute;, Turney, Underwood, Upham, Walker, and Yulee&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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. &ldquo;Neither the Constitution or the
+laws,&rdquo; says Mr. <span class="smcap">Fillmore</span>, &ldquo;nor my duty or my oath of office, leave me
+any alternative, or any choice, in my mode of action.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;A
+regular line of stages has just been established to run monthly between
+Independence, Missouri, and Santa-F&eacute;, 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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;In Indiana the election has given the Democrats control of
+the legislature and of the state convention for the revision of the
+constitution.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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, &amp;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.&mdash;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. &ldquo;In this case,&rdquo; he says, &ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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 &ldquo;Fresh Gleanings,&rdquo; and
+&ldquo;Battle Summer,&rdquo; have already made him very favorably known to the
+literary community.&mdash;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&#8217;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.&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;considerably less than
+usual.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;The Odd Fellows
+have erected a grand edifice at San Francisco for the accommodation of
+their order.&mdash;The Fourth of July was celebrated with great enthusiasm
+throughout California.&mdash;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, &amp;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.&mdash;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 &ldquo;sash-bar;&rdquo; and in the
+construction 4500 tons of iron will be expended. The wooden floor will
+be arranged with &ldquo;divisions,&rdquo; so as to allow the dust to fall
+through.&mdash;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.&mdash;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
+&pound;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.&mdash;A motion to inquire
+into the working of the existing regulation concerning Sunday labor in
+the Post-offices was carried 195 to 112.&mdash;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.&mdash;The sum of &pound;12,000 per annum
+was voted to the present Duke of Cambridge, and &pound;3000 to the Princess
+Mary of Cambridge&mdash;being grandchildren of the late King George III.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;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.&mdash;The boiler of the steamer Red Rover at
+Bristol exploded July 22d, killing six persons and severely injuring
+many others.&mdash;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.&mdash;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&mdash;forming a kind of boat which
+it is almost impossible to overturn. A trial was to be made of its
+efficacy.&mdash;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.&mdash;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&#8217;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 &ldquo;the
+Working-man&#8217;s Monument.&rdquo;</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&#8217;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&#8217;s Jest-Book or the Fool&#8217;s Tragedy</cite>. A republication of Mr.
+Cottle&#8217;s twenty-four books of <cite>Alfred</cite>, though the old pleasant butt and
+&ldquo;jest-book&rdquo; 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>.&mdash;&mdash;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s Bay Company&#8217;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>Athen&aelig;um</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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;A new filtering apparatus, intended to render sea-water
+drinkable, has recently been brought to the notice of the Paris
+Academy.&mdash;&mdash;A letter in the London <cite>Athen&aelig;um</cite> from the Nile complains
+bitterly of the constant devastation of the remains of ancient temples,
+&amp;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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;It is stated that the
+late Sir Robert Peel left his papers to Lord Mahon and Mr. Edward
+Cardwell M.P.&mdash;&mdash;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&#8217;s Magazine</cite>, and to several of the Annuals. Mr.
+Simmons, who held a situation in the Excise office, died July
+19th.&mdash;&mdash;<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&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;<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.&mdash;&mdash;<span class="smcap">Meinhold</span>, the author of the &ldquo;Amber Witch,&rdquo; 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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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&#8217;s Theater.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;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&#8217; 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 &ldquo;disastrous catastrophe,&rdquo; 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.&mdash;&mdash;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 &ldquo;Nestor of Science&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&mdash;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.&mdash;&mdash;The city of Canton has been visited with a
+severe fever which has been very destructive, though it had spared the
+European factories.&mdash;&mdash;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&#8217;s egg; and its
+value is estimated at two millions of pounds sterling.&mdash;&mdash;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 &ldquo;sad sincerity&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&#8217;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
+&ldquo;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.&rdquo; 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&#8217;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&#8217;s</span> <cite>Five Years of a Hunter&#8217;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&#8217;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. &ldquo;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&#8217;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&#8217;s efforts to promote health.&rdquo; Dr. Moore&#8217;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 &ldquo;Latter-Day Pamphlets, by one of the Eighteen
+Million Bores,&rdquo;</cite> in which he makes some effective hits, reducing the
+strongest positions of his opponent to impalpable powder.</p>
+
+<p><cite>The Odd Fellows&#8217; 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&mdash;gives a detailed exposition of Hunt&#8217;s connection
+with the Examiner, and his imprisonment for libel&mdash;his residence in
+Italy&mdash;his return to England&mdash;and his various literary projects&mdash;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&#8217;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 Alc&aacute;ntara 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&#8217;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&#8217;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, &amp; 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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;s desultory studies of man&#8217;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 &amp; 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.&mdash;PROMENADE DRESS. FIG. 2.&mdash;COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY." title="FIG. 1.&mdash;PROMENADE DRESS. FIG. 2.&mdash;COSTUME FOR A YOUNG LADY." />
+<span class="caption"><span class="smcap">Fig. 1.&mdash;Promenade Dress</span>. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <span class="smcap">Fig. 2.&mdash;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>.&mdash;A dress of white <span class="for" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bar&egrave;ge</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">glac&eacute;</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">chicor&eacute;es</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">&agrave; 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">appliqu&eacute;</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>.&mdash;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&mdash;MORNING COSTUME." title="FIG. 4&mdash;MORNING COSTUME." />
+<span class="caption smcap">Fig. 4&mdash;Morning Costume.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="tn">
+<h2><a name="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTE" id="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTE"></a>TRANSCRIBER&#8217;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&nbsp; Corrected Text<span class="rtcol2">Original had</span><br />
+435 &nbsp; fine view of the Firth of Forth<span class="rtcol2">Frith</span><br />
+439 &nbsp; when the curtains of the evening<span class="rtcol2">curttains</span><br />
+456 &nbsp; so I couldn&#8217;t sleep comfortable<span class="rtcol2">could&#8217;nt</span><br />
+465 &nbsp; splendid creature on which he is mounted<span class="rtcol2">spendid</span><br />
+486 &nbsp; ancient hilarity of the English peasan<span class="rtcol2">peasaat</span><br />
+496 &nbsp; I shall not readily forget,<span class="rtcol2">readi-</span><br />
+497 &nbsp; &ldquo;They didn&#8217;t think so at Enghein.&rdquo;<span class="rtcol2">did&#8217;nt</span><br />
+507 &nbsp; Andrew to be out so late<span class="rtcol2">to to</span><br />
+522 &nbsp; I was no sooner in bed<span class="rtcol2">was was</span><br />
+524 &nbsp; Were murmuring to the moon!<span class="rtcol2">to to</span><br />
+532 &nbsp; heavy frames, hung round the walls<span class="rtcol2">roung</span><br />
+549 &nbsp; he is justly punished for his offenses<span class="rtcol2">punnished</span><br />
+549 &nbsp; publisher gives &#8356;500<span class="rtcol2">gives gives</span><br />
+565 &nbsp; Progress of the World<span class="rtcol2">of of</span><br />
+566 &nbsp; be very rich in gold<span class="rtcol2">be be</span><br />
+567 &nbsp; published is <span class="smcap">Wordsworth&#8217;s</span> posthumous<span class="rtcol2 smcap">Wordswort&#8217;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;">&ldquo;sulphur mixed with it&mdash;and they said,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Indeed it was putting a great affront on the&rdquo;</span><br />
+</div>
+<p>On page 560, in the paragraph starting &ldquo;A communication from M.
+Tr&eacute;maux...&rdquo; the protagonist is later referred to as M. Tr&eacute;vaux.</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 *****
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+</body>
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+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: 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:
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