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diff --git a/6012-h/6012-h.htm b/6012-h/6012-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfb1cb4 --- /dev/null +++ b/6012-h/6012-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17414 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Charlemont;, by W. Gilmore Simms, + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: right; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; margin-left: 0.8em; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Charlemont, by W. Gilmore Simms + +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: Charlemont + +Author: W. Gilmore Simms + + +Release Date: July, 2004 [EBook #6012] +This file was first posted on October 16, 2002 +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARLEMONT *** + + + + +Text file produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + CHARLEMONT + </h1> + <h3> + OR, + </h3> + <h2> + THE PRIDE OF THE VILLAGE <br /> <br /> A TALE OF KENTUCKY. + </h2> + <h2> + By W. Gilmore Simms + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Nor will I be secure. + In any confidence of mine own strength, + For such security is oft the mother + Of negligence, and that, the occasion + Of unremedy'd ruin.” + + Microcosmus—THO. NABBES. + </pre> + <h5> + TO THE HON. JAMES HALL, OF CINCINNATI: <br /> <br /> AS ONE OF THE ABLEST OF + OUR LITERARY PIONEERS A GENUINE REPRESENTATIVE OF THE GREAT WEST; <br /> + <br /> WHOSE WRITINGS EQUALLY ILLUSTRATE HER HISTORY AND GENIUS: <br /> + <br /> This story of “CHARLEMONT,” and its Sequel “BEAUCHAMPE” are + respectfully inscribed by <br /> <br /> THEIR AUTHOR + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> ADVERTISEMENT </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. — THE SCENE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. — THE TRAVELLERS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. — THE STRONG-MINDED WOMAN. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. — SIMPLICITY AND THE SERPENT. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. — THE SERPENT IN THE GARDEN. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. — THE TOAD ON THE ALTAR. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. — THE GOOD YOUNG MAN IN + MEDITATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. — PAROCHIAL PERFORMANCES. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. — HOW THE TOAD GRINS UPON THE + ALTAR. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. — THE MOTHER'S GRIEFS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. — WRESTLING. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. — THE MASTER AND HIS PUPILS. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. — THE HISTORY OF A FAILURE. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. — THE ENTHUSIAST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. — A CATASTROPHE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. — SOUSING A GURNET. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. — PHILOSOPHY OP FIGHTING. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. — TRAILING THE FOX. — + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. — THE DOOM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. — BLOWS—A CRISIS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. — CHALLENGE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. — FOOT TO FOOT. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. — UNEXPECTED ISSUES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. — EXILE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. — CONQUEST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. — FALL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. — THE BIRTH OF THE AGONY. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII. — STRENGTH AFTER FALL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX. — BULL-PUPS IN TRAINING. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX. — THE FOX IN THE TRAP. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI. — “ABSQUATULATING.” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII. — THE REVELATION. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII. — STORM AND CONVULSION. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV. — THE FATES FIND THE DAGGER + AND THE BOWL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV. — FOLDING THE ROBES ABOUT + HER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI. — SUSPENSE AND AGONY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII. — SHAME AND DEATH—THE + OATH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII. — THE PALL UPON THE + COFFIN. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ADVERTISEMENT + </h2> + <p> + The domestic legend which follows, is founded upon actual events of + comparatively recent occurrence in the state of Kentucky. However strange + the facts may appear in the sequel—however in conflict with what are + usually supposed to be the sensibilities and characteristics of woman—they + are yet unquestionably true; most of them having been conclusively + established, by the best testimony, before a court of justice. Very + terrible, indeed, was the tragedy to which they conducted—one that + startled the whole country when it took place, and the mournful interest + of which will long be remembered. More on this subject need not be + mentioned here. The narrative, it is hoped, will satisfy all the curiosity + of the reader. It has been very carefully prepared from and according to + the evidence; the art of the romancer being held in close subjection to + the historical authorities. I have furnished only the necessary details + which would fill such blanks in the story as are of domestic character; + taking care that these should accord, in all cases, with the despotic + facts. In respect to these, I have seldom appealed to invention. It is in + the delineation and development of character, only, that I have made free + to furnish scenes, such as appeared to me calculated to perfect the + portraits, and the better to reconcile the reader to real occurrences, + which, in their original nakedness, however unquestionably true, might + incur the risk of being thought improbabilities. + </p> + <p> + The reflections which will be most likely to arise from the perusal of + such a history, lead us to a consideration of the social characteristics + of the time and region, and to a consideration of the facility with which + access to society is afforded by the manners and habits of our forest + population. It is in all newly-settled countries, as among the rustic + population of most nations, that the absence of the compensative resources + of wealth leads to a singular and unreserved freedom among the people. In + this way, society endeavors to find equivalents for those means of + enjoyment which a wealthy people may procure from travel, from luxury, + from the arts, and the thousand comforts of a well-provided homestead. The + population of a frontier country, lacking such resources, scattered over a + large territory, and meeting infrequently, feel the lack of social + intercourse; and this lack tends to break down most of the barriers which + a strict convention usually establishes for the protection, not only of + sex and caste, but of its own tastes and prejudices. Lacking the resources + of superior wealth, population, and civilization, the frontier people are + naturally required to throw the doors open as widely as possible, in order + to obtain that intercourse with their fellows which is, perhaps, the first + great craving of humanity. As a matter of necessity, there is little + discrimination exercised in the admission of their guests. A specious + outside, agreeable manners, cleverness and good humor, will soon make + their way into confidence, without requiring other guaranties for the + moral of the stranger. The people are naturally frank and hospitable; for + the simple reason that these qualities of character are essential for + procuring them that intercourse which they crave. The habits are + accessible, the restraints few, the sympathies are genial, active, easily + aroused, and very confiding. It follows, naturally, that they are + frequently wronged and outraged, and just as naturally that their + resentments are keen, eager, and vindictive. The self-esteem, if not + watchful, is revengeful; and society sanctions promptly the fierce redress—that + wild justice of revenge—which punishes without appeal to law, with + its own right hand, the treacherous guest who has abused the unsuspecting + confidence which welcomed him to a seat upon the sacred hearth. In this + brief portrait of the morale of society, upon our frontiers, you will find + the materiel from which this story has been drawn, and its justification, + as a correct delineation of border life in one of its more settled phases + in the new states. The social description of Charlemont exhibits, perhaps, + a THIRD advance in our forest civilization, from the original settlement. + </p> + <p> + It is not less the characteristic of these regions to exhibit the passions + and the talents of the people in equal and wonderful saliency. We are + accordingly struck with two classes of social facts, which do not often + arrest the attention in old communities. We see, for example, the most + singular combination of simplicity and sagacity in the same person; + simplicity in conventional respects, and sagacity in all that affects the + absolute and real in life, nature and the human sensibilities. The rude + man, easily imposed upon, in his faith, fierce as an outlaw in his + conflicts with men, will be yet exquisitely alive to the nicest + consciousness of woman; will as delicately appreciate her instincts and + sensibilities, as if love and poetry had been his only tutors from the + first, and had mainly addressed their labors to this one object of the + higher heart, education; and in due degree with the tenderness with which + he will regard the sex, will be the vindictive ferocity with which—even + though no kinsman—he will pursue the offender who has dared to + outrage them in the case of any individual. In due degree as his faith is + easy will his revenges be extreme. In due degree as he is slow to suspect + the wrong-doer, will be the tenacity of his pursuit when the offender + requires punishment. He seems to throw wide his heart and habitation, but + you must beware how you trespass upon the securities of either. + </p> + <p> + The other is a mental characteristic which leads to frequent surprises + among strangers from the distant cities. It consists in the wonderful + inequality between his mental and social development. The same person who + will be regarded as a boor in good society, will yet exhibit a rapidity + and profundity of thought and intelligence—a depth and soundness of + judgment—an acuteness in discrimination—a logical accuracy, + and critical analysis, such as mere good society rarely shows, and such as + books almost as rarely teach. There will be a deficiency of refinement, + taste, art—all that the polished world values so highly—and + which it seems to cherish and encourage to the partial repudiation of the + more essential properties of intellect. However surprising this + characteristic may appear, it may yet be easily accounted for by the very + simplicity of a training which results in great directness and force of + character—a frank heartiness of aim and object—a truthfulness + of object which suffers the thoughts to turn neither to the right hand nor + to the left, but to press forward decisively to the one object—a + determined will, and a restless instinct—which, conscious of the + deficiencies of wealth and position, is yet perpetually seeking to supply + them from the resources within its reach. These characteristics will be + found illustrated in the present legend, an object which it somewhat + contemplates, apart from the mere story with which they are interwoven. + </p> + <p> + A few words more in respect to our heroine, Margaret Cooper. It is our + hope and belief, that she will be found a real character by most of our + readers. She is drawn from the life, and with a severe regard to the + absolute features of the original. In these days of “strong-minded women,” + even more certainly than when the portrait was first taken, the identity + of the sketch with its original will be sure of recognition. Her character + and career will illustrate most of the mistakes which are made by that + ambitious class, among the gentler sex, who are now seeking so earnestly + to pass out from that province of humiliation to which the sex has been + circumscribed from the first moment of recorded history. What she will + gain by the motion, if successful, might very well be left to time, were + it not that the proposed change in her condition threatens fatally some of + her own and the best securities of humanity. We may admit, and cheerfully + do so, that she might, with propriety, be allowed some additional legal + privileges of a domestic sort. But the great object of attainment, which + is the more serious need of the sex—her own more full development as + a responsible being—seems mainly to depend upon herself, and upon + self-education. The great first duty of woman is in her becoming the + mother of men; and this duty implies her proper capacity for the education + and training of the young. To fit her properly for this duty, her + education should become more elevated, and more severe in degree with its + elevation. But the argument is one of too grave, too intricate, and + excursive a character, to be attempted here. It belongs to a very + different connection. It is enough, in this place, to say that Margaret + Cooper possesses just the sort of endowment to make a woman anxious to + pass the guardian boundaries which hedge in her sex—her danger + corresponds with her desires. Her securities, with such endowments, and + such a nature, can only be found in a strict and appropriate education, + such as woman seldom receives anywhere, and less, perhaps, in this country + than in any other. To train fully the feminine mind, without in any degree + impairing her susceptibilities and sensibilities, seems at once the + necessity and the difficulty of the subject. Her very influence over man + lies in her sensibilities. It will be to her a perilous fall from pride of + place, and power, when, goaded by an insane ambition, in the extreme + development of her mere intellect, she shall forfeit a single one of these + securities of her sex. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. — THE SCENE. + </h2> + <p> + The stormy and rugged winds of March were overblown—the first fresh + smiling days of April had come at last—the days of sunshine and + shower, of fitful breezes, the breath of blossoms, and the newly-awakened + song of birds. Spring was there in all the green and glory of her youth, + and the bosom of Kentucky heaved with the prolific burden of the season. + She had come, and her messengers were everywhere, and everywhere busy. The + birds bore her gladsome tidings to + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Alley green, + Dingle or bushy dell of each wild wood, + And every bosky bourn from side to side—” + </pre> + <p> + nor were the lately-trodden and seared grasses of the forests left + unnoted; and the humbled flower of the wayside sprang up at her summons. + Like some loyal and devoted people, gathered to hail the approach of a + long-exiled and well-beloved sovereign, they crowded upon the path over + which she came, and yielded themselves with gladness at her feet. The + mingled songs and sounds of their rejoicing might be heard, and far-off + murmurs of gratulation, rising from the distant hollows, or coming faintly + over the hill-tops, in accents not the lees pleasing because they were the + less distinct. That lovely presence which makes every land blossom, and + every living thing rejoice, met, in the happy region in which we meet her + now, a double tribute of honor and rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + The “dark and bloody ground,” by which mournful epithets Kentucky was + originally known to the Anglo-American, was dark and bloody no longer. The + savage had disappeared from its green forests for ever, and no longer + profaned with slaughter, and his unholy whoop of death, its broad and + beautiful abodes. A newer race had succeeded; and the wilderness, + fulfilling the better destinies of earth, had begun to blossom like the + rose. Conquest had fenced in its sterile borders with a wall of fearless + men, and peace slept everywhere in security among its green recesses. + Stirring industry—the perpetual conqueror—made the woods + resound with the echoes of his biting axe and ringing hammer. Smiling + villages rose in cheerful white, in place of the crumbling and smoky + cabins of the hunter. High and becoming purposes of social life and + thoughtful enterprise superseded that eating and painful decay, which has + terminated in the annihilation of the red man; and which, among every + people, must always result from their refusal to exercise, according to + the decree of experience, no less than Providence, their limbs and sinews + in tasks of well-directed and continual labor. + </p> + <p> + A great nation urging on a sleepless war against sloth and feebleness, is + one of the noblest of human spectacles. This warfare was rapidly and + hourly changing the monotony and dreary aspects of rock and forest. Under + the creative hands of art, temples of magnificence rose where the pines + had fallen. Long and lovely vistas were opened through the dark and + hitherto impervious thickets. The city sprang up beside the river, while + hamlets, filled with active hope and cheerful industry, crowded upon the + verdant hill-side, and clustered among innumerable valleys Grace began to + seek out the homes of toil, and taste supplied their decorations. A purer + form of religion hallowed the forest-homes of the red-man, while expelling + for ever the rude divinities of his worship; and throughout the land, an + advent of moral loveliness seemed approaching, not less grateful to the + affections and the mind, than was the beauty of the infant April, to the + eye and the heart of the wanderer. + </p> + <p> + But something was still wanting to complete the harmonies of nature, in + the scene upon which we are about to enter. Though the savage had for ever + departed from its limits, the blessings of a perfect civilization were not + yet secured to the new and flourishing regions of Kentucky. Its morals + were still in that fermenting condition which invariably distinguishes the + settlement of every new country by a various and foreign people. At the + distant period of which we write, the population of Kentucky had not yet + become sufficiently stationary to have made their domestic gods secure, or + to have fixed the proper lines and limits regulating social intercourse + and attaching precise standards to human conduct. The habits and passions + of the first settlers—those fearless pioneers who had struggled foot + to foot with the Indian, and lived in a kindred state of barbarity with + him, had not yet ceased to have influence over the numerous race which + followed them. That moral amalgam which we call society, and which + recognises a mutual and perfectly equal condition of dependence, and a + common necessity, as the great cementing principles of the human family, + had not yet taken place; and it was still too much the custom, in that + otherwise lovely region, for the wild man to revenge his own wrong, and + the strong man to commit a greater with impunity. The repose of social + order was not yet secured to the great mass, covering with its wing, as + with a sky that never knew a cloud, the sweet homes and secure possessions + of the unwarlike. The fierce robber sometimes smote the peaceful traveler + upon the highway, and the wily assassin of reputation, within the limits + of the city barrier, not unfrequently plucked the sweetest rose that ever + adorned the virgin bosom of innocence, and triumphed, without censure, in + the unhallowed spoliation. + </p> + <p> + But sometimes there came an avenger;—and the highway robber fell + before the unexpected patriot; and the virgin was avenged by the yet + beardless hero, for the wrong of her cruel seducer. The story which we + have to tell, is of times and of actions such as these. It is a melancholy + narrative—the more melancholy as it is most certainly true. It will + not be told in vain, if the crime which it describes in proper colors, and + the vengeance by which it was followed, and which it equally records, + shall secure the innocent from harm, and discourage the incipient + wrongdoer from his base designs. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. — THE TRAVELLERS. + </h2> + <p> + Let the traveller stand with us on the top of this rugged eminence, and + look down upon the scene below. Around us, the hills gather in groups on + every side, a family cluster, each of which wears the same general + likeness to that on which we stand, yet there is no monotony in their + aspect. The axe has not yet deprived them of a single tree, and they rise + up, covered with the honored growth of a thousand summers. But they seem + not half so venerable. They wear, in this invigorating season, all the + green, fresh features of youth and spring. The leaves cover the rugged + Limbs which sustain them, with so much ease and grace, as if for the first + time they were so green and glossy, and as if the impression should be + made more certain and complete, the gusty wind of March has scattered + abroad and borne afar, all the yellow garments of the vanished winter. The + wild flowers begin to flaunt their blue and crimson draperies about us, as + if conscious that they are borne upon the bosom of undecaying beauty; and + the spot so marked and hallowed by each charming variety of bud and + blossom, would seem to have been a selected dwelling for the queenly + Spring herself. + </p> + <p> + Man, mindful of those tastes and sensibilities which in great part + constitute his claim to superiority over the brute, has not been + indifferent to the beauties of the place. In the winding hollows of these + hills, beginning at our feet, you see the first signs of as lovely a + little hamlet as ever promised peace to the weary and the discontent. This + is the village of Charlemont. + </p> + <p> + A dozen snug and smiling cottages seem to have been dropped in this + natural cup, as if by a spell of magic. They appear, each of them, to fill + a fitted place—not equally distant from, but equally near each + other. Though distinguished, each by an individual feature, there is yet + no great dissimilarity among them. All are small, and none of them + distinguished by architectural pretension. They are now quite as + flourishing as when first built, and their number has had no increase + since the village was first settled. Speculation has not made it populous + and prosperous, by destroying its repose, stifling its charities, and + abridging the sedate habits and comforts of its people. The houses, though + constructed after the fashion of the country, of heavy and ill-squared + logs, roughly hewn, and hastily thrown together, perhaps by unpractised + hands, are yet made cheerful by that tidy industry which is always sure to + make them comfortable also. Trim hedges that run beside slender white + palings, surround and separate them from each other. Sometimes, as you + see, festoons of graceful flowers, and waving blossoms, distinguish one + dwelling from the rest, declaring its possession of some fair tenant, + whose hand and fancy have kept equal progress with habitual industry; at + the same time, some of them appear entirely without the little garden of + flowers and vegetables, which glimmers and glitters in the rear or front + of the greater number. + </p> + <p> + Such was Charlemont, at the date of our narrative. But the traveller would + vainly look, now, to find the place as we describe it. The garden is no + longer green with fruits and flowers—the festoons no longer grace + the lowly portals—the white palings are down and blackening in the + gloomy mould—the roofs have fallen, and silence dwells lonely among + the ruins,—the only inhabitant of the place. It has no longer a + human occupant. + </p> + <p> + “Something ails it now—the spot is cursed.” + </p> + <p> + Why this fate has fallen upon so sweet an abiding place—why the + villagers should have deserted a spot, so quiet and so beautiful—it + does not fall within our present purpose to inquire. It was most probably + abandoned—not because of the unfruitfulness of the soil, or the + unhealthiness of the climate—for but few places on the bosom of the + earth, may be found either more fertile, more beautiful, or more healthful—but + in compliance with that feverish restlessness of mood—that sleepless + discontent of temper, which, perhaps, more than any other quality, is the + moral failing in the character of the Anglo-American. The roving desires + of his ancestor, which brought him across the waters, have been + transmitted without diminution—nay, with large increase—to the + son. The creatures of a new condition of things, and new necessities, our + people will follow out their destiny. The restless energies which + distinguish them, are, perhaps, the contemplated characteristics which + Providence has assigned them, in order that they may the more effectually + and soon, bring into the use and occupation of a yet mightier people, the + wilderness of that new world in which their fortunes have been cast. + Generation is but the pioneer of generation, and the children of millions, + more gigantic and powerful than ourselves, shall yet smile to behold, how + feeble was the stroke made by our axe upon the towering trees of their + inheritance. + </p> + <p> + It was probably because of this characteristic of our people, that + Charlemont came in time to be deserted. The inhabitants were one day + surprised with tidings of more attractive regions in yet deeper forests, + and grew dissatisfied with their beautiful and secluded valley. Such is + the ready access to the American mind, in its excitable state, of novelty + and sudden impulse, that there needs but few suggestions to persuade the + forester to draw stakes, and remove his tents, where the signs seem to be + more numerous of sweeter waters and more prolific fields. For a time, + change has the power which nature does not often exercise; and under its + freshness, the waters DO seem sweeter, and the stores of the wilderness, + the wild-honey and the locust, DO seem more abundant to the lip and eye. + </p> + <p> + Where our cottagers went, and under what delusion, are utterly unknown to + us; nor is it important to our narrative that we should inquire. Our + knowledge of them is only desirable, while they were in the flourishing + condition in which they have been seen. It is our trust that the novelty + which seduced them from their homes, did not fail them in its promises—that + they may never have found, in all their wanderings, a less lovely + abiding-place, than that which they abandoned. But change has its bitter, + as well as its sweet, and the fear is strong that the cottagers of + Charlemont, in the weary hours, when life's winter is approaching, will + still and vainly sigh after the once-despised enjoyments of their deserted + hamlet. + </p> + <p> + It was toward the close of one of those bright, tearful days in April, of + which we have briefly spoken, when a couple of travellers on horseback, + ascended the last hill looking down upon Charlemont. One of these + travellers had passed the middle period of life; the other was, perhaps, + just about to enter upon its heavy responsibilities, and more active + duties. The first wore the countenance of one who had borne many sorrows, + and borne them with that resignation, which, while it proves the wisdom of + the sufferer, is at the same time, calculated to increase his benevolence. + The expression of his eye, was full of kindness and benignity, while that + of his mouth, with equal force, was indicative of a melancholy, as + constant as it was gentle and unobtrusive. A feeble smile played over his + lips while he spoke, that increased the sadness which it softened; as the + faint glimmer of the evening sunlight, upon the yellow leaves of autumn, + heightens the solemn tones in the rich coloring of the still decaying + forest. + </p> + <p> + The face of his companion, in many of its features, was in direct contrast + with his own. It was well formed, and, to the casual glance, seemed no + less handsome than intellectual. There was much in it to win the regard of + the young and superficial. An eye that sparkled with fire, a mouth that + glowed with animation—cheeks warmly colored, and a contour full of + vivacity, seemed to denote properties of mind and heart equally valuable + and attractive. Still, a keen observer would have found something + sinister, in the upward glancing of the eye, at intervals, from the + half-closed lids; and, at such moments, there was a curling contempt upon + the lips, which seemed to denote a cynical and sarcastic turn of mind. A + restless movement of the same features seemed equally significant of + caprice of character, and a flexibility of moral; while the chin narrowed + too suddenly and became too sharp at the extremity, to persuade a thorough + physiognomist, that the owner could be either very noble in his aims, or + very generous in his sentiments. But as these outward tokens can not well + be considered authority in the work of judgment, let events, which speak + for themselves, determine the true character of our travellers. + </p> + <p> + They had reached the table land of the heights which looked down upon + Charlemont, at a moment when the beauty of the scene could scarcely fail + to impress itself upon the most indifferent observer. The elder of the + travellers, who happened to be in advance, was immediately arrested by it; + and, staying the progress of his horse, with hand lifted above his eye, + looked around him with a delight which expressed itself in an abrupt + ejaculation, and brought his companion to his side. The sun had just + reached that point in his descent, which enabled him to level a shaft of + rosy light from the pinnacle of the opposite hill, into the valley below, + where it rested among the roofs of two of the cottages, which arose + directly in its path. The occupants of these two cottages had come forth, + as it were, in answer to the summons; and old and young, to the number of + ten or a dozen persons, had met, in the winding pathway between, which led + through the valley, and in front of every cottage which it contained. The + elder of the cottagers sat upon the huge trunk of a tree, which had been + felled beside the road, for the greater convenience of the traveller; and + with eyes turned in the direction of the hill on which the sunlight had + sunk and appeared to slumber, seemed to enjoy the vision with no less + pleasure than our senior traveller. Two tall damsels of sixteen, + accompanied by a young man something older, were strolling off in the + direction of the woods; while five or six chubby girls and boys were + making the echoes leap and dance along the hills, in the clamorous delight + which they felt in their innocent but stirring exercises. The whole scene + was warmed with the equal brightness of the natural and the human sun. + Beauty was in the sky, and its semblance, at least, was on the earth. God + was in the heavens, and in his presence could there be other than peace + and harmony among men! + </p> + <p> + “How beautiful!” exclaimed the elder of our travellers—“could + anything be more so! How pure, how peaceful! See, Warham, how soft, how + spirit-like, that light lies along the hill-side, and how distinct, yet + how delicate, is the train which glides from it down the valley, even to + the white dwellings at its bottom, from which it seems to shrink and + tremble as if half conscious of intrusion. And yet the picture below is + kindred with it. That, now, is a scene that I delight in—it is a + constant picture in my mind. There is peace in that valley, if there be + peace anywhere on earth. The old men sit before the door, and contemplate + with mingled feelings of pride and pleasure, the vigorous growth of their + children. They behold in them their own immortality, even upon earth. The + young will preserve their memories, and transmit their names to other + children yet unborn; and how must such a reflection reconcile them to + their own time of departure, not unfitly shown in the last smiles of that + sunlight, which they are so soon about to lose. Like him, they look with + benevolence and love upon the world from which they will soon depart.” + </p> + <p> + “Take my word for it, uncle, they will postpone their departure to the + last possible moment, and, so far from looking with smiles upon what they + are about to leave for ever, they will leave it with very great + reluctance, and in monstrous bad humor. As for regarding their children + with any such notions as those you dwell upon with such poetical raptures, + they will infinitely prefer transmitting for themselves their names and + qualities to the very end of the chapter. Ask any one of them the question + now, and he will tell you that an immortality, each, in his own wig-wam, + and with his weight of years and infirmity upon him, would satisfy all his + expectations. If they look at the vigor of their young, it is to recollect + that they themselves once were so, and to repine at the recollection. Take + my word for it, there is not a dad among them, that does not envy his own + son the excellence of his limbs, and the long time of exercise and + enjoyment which they seemingly assure him.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” exclaimed the elder of the two travellers. “Impossible! I + should be sorry to think as you do. But you, Warham, can not understand + these things. You are an habitual unbeliever—the most unfortunate of + all mankind.” + </p> + <p> + “The most fortunate, rather. I have but few burdens of credulity to carry. + The stars be blessed, my articles of faith are neither very many nor very + cumbrous. I should be sorry if my clients were so few.” + </p> + <p> + “I should be sorry, Warham, if I had so little feeling as yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “And I should be still more sorry, uncle, if I had half so much. Why, sir, + yours is in such excess, that you continually mistake the joys and sorrows + of other people for your own. You laugh and weep with them alternately; + and, until all's done and over, you never seem to discover that the + business was none of yours;—that you had none of the pleasure which + made you laugh, and might have been spared all the unnecessary suffering + which moved your tears. 'Pon my soul, sir, you pass a most unprofitable + life.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake, Warham, I have shared both; and my profits have been equally + great from both sources. My susceptibility has been an exceeding great + gain to me, and has quickened all my senses. There is a joy of grief, you + know, according to Ossian.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, if you quote Ossian, uncle. I give you up. I don't believe in + Ossian, and his raving stuff always sickens me.” + </p> + <p> + “I sometimes think, Warham,” said the uncle, good naturedly, “that + Providence has denied you some of the more human faculties. Nay, I fear + that you are partially deficient in some of the senses. Do you see that + sunlight to which I point—there, on the hill-side, a sort of rosy + haze, which seems to me eminently beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; and, if you will suffer me, I will get out of its reach as + quickly as possible. I have been half blinded by it ever since you found + it so beautiful. Sunlight is, I think, of very little importance to + professional men, unless as a substitute for candles, and then it should + come over the left shoulder, if you would not have it endanger the sight. + Nay, I will go farther, and confess that it is better than candlelight, + and certainly far less expensive. Shall we go forward, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Warham,” said the uncle, with increasing gravity, “I should be sorry to + believe that a habit of speech so irreverential, springs from anything but + an ambition for saying smart things, and strange things, which are not + always smart. It would give me great pain to think that you were devoid of + any of those sensibilities which soften the hearts of other men, and lead + them to generous impulses.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, be not harsh, uncle. You should know me better. I trust my + sensibilities, and senses too, may be sufficient for all proper purposes, + when the proper time comes for their employment; but I can't flame up at + every sunbeam, and grow enthusiastic in the contemplation of Bill + Johnson's cottage, and Richard Higgins's hedgerow. A turnip-patch never + yet could waken my enthusiasm, and I do believe, sir—I confess it + with some shame and a slight misgiving, lest my admissions should give you + pain—that my fancy has never been half so greatly enkindled by + Carthula, of the bending spear, or Morven of the winds, as by the sedate + and homely aspect of an ordinary dish of eggs and bacon, hot from the + flaming frying-pan of some worthy housewife.” + </p> + <p> + The uncle simply looked upon the speaker, but without answering. He was + probably quite too much accustomed to his modes of thought and speech to + be so much surprised as annoyed by what he said. Perhaps, too, his own + benevolence of spirit interfered to save the nephew from that harsher + rebuke which his judgment might yet have very well disposed him to bestow. + </p> + <p> + Following the course of the latter in silence, he descended into the + valley, and soon made his way among the sweet little cottages at its foot. + An interchange of courtsies between the travellers and the villagers whose + presence had given occasion to some portion of the previous dialogue, in + which the manner of the younger traveller was civil, and that of the elder + kind; and the two continued on their journey, though not without being + compelled to refuse sundry invitations, given with true patriarchal + hospitality, to remain among the quiet abodes through which they passed. + </p> + <p> + As cottage after cottage unfolded itself to their eyes, along the winding + avenue, the proprietors appeared at door and window, and, with the simple + freedoms of rural life, welcomed the strangers with a smile, a nod, and + sometimes, when sufficiently nigh, a friendly word of salutation, but + without having the effect of arresting their onward progress. Yet many a + backward glance was sent by the elder of the travellers, whose eyes, + beaming with satisfaction, sufficiently declared the delight which he + received from the contemplation of so many of the mingled graces of + physical and moral nature. His loitering steps drew from his young + companion an occasional remark, which, to ears less benevolent and + unsuspecting than than those of the senior, might have been deemed a + sarcasm; and more than once the lips of the nephew had curled with + contemptuous smiles, as he watched the yearning glances of his uncle on + each side of the avenue, as they wended slowly through it. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the village, and at the foot of the opposite hills, they + encountered a group of young people of both sexes, whose bursts of + merriment were suddenly restrained as they emerged unexpectedly into + sight. The girls had been sitting upon the grassy mead, with the young men + before them; but they started to their feet at the sound of strange steps, + and the look of strange faces. Charlemont, it must be remembered, was not + in the thoroughfare of common travel. If visited at all by strangers, it + was most usually by those only who came with a single purpose. Nothing, + therefore could have been more calculated to surprise a community so + insulated, than that they should attract, but not arrest the traveller. + The natural surprise which the young people felt, when unexpectedly + encountered in their rustic sports, was naturally increased by this + unusual circumstance, and they looked after the departing forms of the + wayfarers with a wonder and curiosity that kept them for some time silent. + The elder of the two, meanwhile—one of whose habits of mind was + always to give instantaneous utterance to the feeling which was upper-most—dilated, + without heeding the sneers of his nephew, upon the apparent happiness + which they witnessed. + </p> + <p> + “Here, you see, Warham, is a pleasure which the great city never knows:—the + free intercourse of the sexes in all those natural exercises which give + health to the body, grace to the movement, and vivacity to the manners.” + </p> + <p> + “The health will do well enough,” replied the skeptic, “but save me from + the grace of Hob and Hinney; and as for their manners—did I hear you + correctly, uncle, when you spoke of their manners?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, you did. I have always regarded the natural manners which belong + to the life of the forester, as being infinitely more noble, as well as + more graceful, than those of the citizen. Where did you ever see a + tradesman whose bearing was not mean compared with that of the hunter?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but these are no hunters, and scarcely foresters. I see not a single + Nimrod among the lads; and as for the lasses, even your eyes, indulgent as + they usually are, will scarcely venture to insist that I shall behold one + nymph among them worthy to tie the shoe-latchets of Diana. The manners of + the hunter are those of an elastic savage; but these lads shear sheep, + raise hogs for the slaughter-pen, and seldom perform a nobler feat than + felling a bullock. They have none of the elasticity which, coupled with + strength, makes the grace of the man; and they walk as if perpetually in + the faith that their corn-rows and potatoe-hills were between their legs.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you note the young woman in the crimson body Warham? Was she not + majestically made?” + </p> + <p> + “It struck me she would weigh against any two of the company.” + </p> + <p> + “She is rather heavy, I grant you, but her carriage, Warham!” + </p> + <p> + “Would carry weight—nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + “There was one little girl, just rising into womanhood:—you must + admit that she had a very lovely face, and her form—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear uncle, what is it that you will not desire me to believe? You are + sadly given to proselytism, and take infinite pains to compel me to see + with eyes that never do their owner so much wrong, as when they reject the + aid of spectacles. How much would Charlemont and its inhabitants differ to + your sight, were you only to take your green spectacles from the shagreen + case in which they do no duty. But if you are resolved, in order to seem + youthful, to let your age go unprovided with the means of seeing as youth + would see, at least suffer me to enjoy the natural privileges of + twenty-five. When, like you, my hairs whiten, and my eyes grow feeble, ten + to one, I shall think with you that every third woodman is an Apollo, and + every other peasant-girl is a Venus, whom—” + </p> + <p> + The words of the speaker ceased—cut short by the sudden appearance + of a form and face, the beauty and dignity of which silenced the skeptic, + and made him doubtful, for the moment, whether he had not in reality + reached that period of confused and confounding vision, which, as he + alleged to be the case with his uncle, loses all power of discrimination. + A maiden stood before him—tall, erect, majestic—beautiful + after no ordinary standard of beauty. She was a brunette, with large dark + eyes, which, though bright, seemed dark with excess of bright—and + had a depth of expression which thrilled instantly through the bosom of + the spectator. A single glance did she bestow upon the travellers, while + she acknowledged, by a slight courtesy, the respectful bow which they made + her. They drew up their horses as with mutual instinct, but she passed + them quickly, courtesying a second time as she did so, and, in another + moment a turn of the road concealed her from the eyes of the travellers. + </p> + <p> + “What say you to that, Warham?” demanded the senior exultingly. + </p> + <p> + “A Diana, in truth; but, uncle, we find her not among the rest. SHE is + none of your cottagers. SHE is of another world and element. She is no + Charlemonter.” + </p> + <p> + And, as he spoke, the younger traveller looked back with straining eyes to + catch another glance of the vanished object, but in vain. + </p> + <p> + “You deserve never to see a lovely woman again, Warham, for your + skepticism.” + </p> + <p> + “But I will have a second look at her, uncle, though the skies fall,” + answered the young man, as, wheeling his horse round, he deliberately + galloped back to the bend in the avenue, by which she had been hidden from + his view. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely reached the desired point, when he suddenly recoiled to + find the object of his pursuit standing motionless just beyond, with eyes + averted to the backward path—her glance consequently encountering + his own, the very moment when he discovered her. A deep crimson, visible + even where he stood, suffused her cheeks when she beheld him; and without + acknowledging the second bow which the traveller made, she somewhat + haughtily averted her head with a suddenness which shook her long and + raven tresses entirely free of the net-work which confined them. + </p> + <p> + “A proud gipsy!” muttered the youth as he rode back to his uncle—“just + such a spirit as I should like to tame.” He took especial care, however, + that this sentiment did not reach the ears of his senior. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said the latter, inquiringly, at his approach. + </p> + <p> + “I am right after all, uncle:—the wench is no better than the rest. + A heavy bulk that seemed dignified only because she is too fat for levity. + She walks like a blind plough-horse in a broken pasture, up and down, over + and over; with a gait as rigid and deliberate as if she trod among the hot + cinders, and had corns on all her toes. She took us so by surprise that if + we had not thought her beautiful we must have thought her ugly, and the + chances are equal, that, on a second meeting, we shall both think her so. + I shall, I'm certain, and you must, provided you give your eyes the + benefit, and your nose the burden of your green specs.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! I can scarce believe it, Warham,” replied the senior. “I + thought her very beautiful.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall never rely on your judgment again;—nay, uncle, I am almost + inclined to suspect your taste.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let them be beautiful or ugly, still I should think the same of the + beauty of this village.” + </p> + <p> + “While the sun shines it may be tolerable; but, uncle, in wet bad weather—it + must become a mere pond, it lies so completely in the hollow of the + hills.” + </p> + <p> + “There is reason in that, Warham.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet, even as a pond, it would have its advantages—it would be + famous for duck-raising.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! you are worse than a Mahometan.” + </p> + <p> + “Something of a just comparison, uncle, though scarcely aimed,” said the + other; “like Mahomet, you know, I doubt the possession of souls by women.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet if these of Charlemont have not souls, they have no small share of + happiness on earth. I never heard more happy laughter from human lips than + from theirs. They must be happy.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt that also,” was the reply. “See you not, uncle, that to nine or + ten women there are but three lads? Where the disproportion is so great + among the sexes, and where it is so unfavorable to the weaker, women never + can be happy. Their whole lives will be lives of turmoil, jealousy, and + pulling of caps. Nay, eyes shall not be secure under such circumstances; + and Nan's fingers shall be in Doll's hair, and Doll's claws in Nanny's + cheeks, whenever it shall so happen, that Tom Jenkins shall incline to + Nan, or John Dobbins to Doll. Such a disparity between the sexes is one of + the most fruitful causes of domestic war.” + </p> + <p> + “Warham, where do you think to go when you die?” + </p> + <p> + “Where there shall be no great inequality in the population. Believe me, + uncle, though I am sometimes disposed to think with Mahomet, and deny the + possession of souls to the sex, I also incline to believe, with other more + charitable teachers—however difficult it may be to reconcile the two + philosophies—that there will be no lack of them in either world.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, Warham,” was the mild rebuke of the senior; “you go too far—you + are irreverent. As for this maiden, I still think her very beautiful—of + a high and noble kind of beauty. My eyes may be bad;—indeed I am + willing to admit they are none of the best; but I feel certain that they + cannot so far deceive me, when we consider how nigh we were to her.” + </p> + <p> + “The matter deserves inquiry, uncle, if it were only to satisfy your + faith;—suppose we ride back, both of us, and see for ourselves—closely, + and with the aid of the green spectacles? Not that I care to see farther—not + that I have any doubts—but I wish you to be convinced in this case, + if only to make you sensible of the frequent injustice to which your + indulgence of judgment, subjects the critical fastidiousness of mine. What + say you; shall we wheel about?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are mad, surely. It is now sunset, and we have a good eight + miles before we get to Holme's Station.” + </p> + <p> + “But we can sleep in Charlemont to-night. A night in this earthly Eden—” + </p> + <p> + “And run the risk of losing our company? Oh, no, most worthy nephew. They + will start at dawn to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “We can soon come up with 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, and the risk is considerable. Travelling to the Mississippi + is no such small matter at any time, and, in these times it is only with a + multitude, that there is safety. The murder of old Whiteford, is a + sufficient warning not to go alone with more gold than lead in one's + pocket. We are two, it is true, but better ten than two. You are a brave + fellow enough, Warham, I doubt not; but a shot will dispose of you, and + after that I should be an easy victim. I could wink and hold out my iron + as well as the best of you, but I prefer to escape the necessity. Let us + mend our pace. We are burning daylight.” + </p> + <p> + The nephew, with an air of some impatience, which, however, escaped the + eyes of the senior, sent his horse forward by a sharp application of his + spur, though looking back the while, with a glance of reluctance, which + strongly disagreed with the sentiments which he expressed. Indeed, with + both the travellers, the impression made by the little village of + Charlemont was such that the subject seemed nowise displeasing to either, + and furnished the chief staple of conversation between them, as they rode + the remaining eight miles of their journey. The old man's heart had been + subdued and won by the sweet air of peace which seemed to overspread and + hallow the soft landscape, and the smiling cottages which made it human. + The laughing maidens with their bright eyes and cheering accents, gave + vivacity to its milder charms. We have heard from the lips of the younger + traveller, that these attractions had failed to captivate his fancy. We + may believe of this as we please. It is very probable that he had, in + considerable part, spoken nothing but the truth. He was too much of a + mocker;—one of those worldlings who derive their pleasures from + circumstances of higher conventional attraction. He had no feeling for + natural romance. His PENCHANT, was decidedly for the artificial existence + of city life; and the sneers which he had been heard to express at the + humble joys of rustic life, its tastes, and characteristics, were, in + truth, only such as he really felt. But, even in his case, there was an + evident disposition to know something more of Charlemont. He was really + willing to return. He renewed the same subject of conversation, when it + happened to flag, with obvious eagerness; and, though his language was + still studiedly disparaging, a more deeply penetrating judgment than that + of his uncle, would have seen that the little village, slightly as he + professed to esteem it, was yet an object of thought and interest in his + eyes. Of the sources of this new interest time must inform us. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Warham,” at length exclaimed the uncle, in a tone that seemed + meant to close the discussion of a topic which his nephew now appeared + mischievously bent to thrust upon him, “you will return to Kentucky in the + fall. Take Charlemont in your route. Stop a week there. It will do you no + harm. Possibly you may procure some clients—may, indeed, include it + in your tour of practice—at all events, you will not be unprofitably + employed if you come to see the village and the people with MY eyes, + which, I doubt not, you will in time.” + </p> + <p> + “In time, perhaps, I may. It is well that you do not insist upon any + hurried convictions. Were I at your years uncle mine,” continued the other + irreverently, “I should no doubt see with your eyes, and possibly feel + with your desires. Then, no doubt, I shall acquire a taste for warmingpans + and nightcaps—shall look for landscapes rather than lands—shall + see nothing but innocence among the young, and resignation and religion + among the old; and fancy, in every aged pair of bumpkins that I see, a + Darby and Joan, with perpetual peace at their fireside, though they may + both happen to lie there drunk on apple-brandy. Between caudle-cups and + 'John Anderson, my Jo-John,' it is my hope to pass the evening of my days + with a tolerable grace, and leave behind me some comely representatives, + who shall take up the burden of the ditty where I leave off. On this head + be sure you shall have no cause to complain of me. I shall be no + Malthusian, as you certainly have shown yourself. It is the strangest + thing to me, uncle, that, with all your SPOKEN rapture for the sex, you + should never have thought of securing for yourself at least one among the + crowd which you so indiscriminately admire. Surely, a gentleman of your + personal attractions—attractions which seem resolute to cling to you + to the last—could not have found much difficulty in procuring the + damsel he desired! And when, too, your enthusiasm for the sex is known, + one would think it only necessary that you should fling your handkerchief, + to have it greedily grappled by the fairest of the herd. How is it, uncle—how + have you escaped from them—from yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, Warham, you are a fool!” exclaimed the senior, riding forward with + increasing speed. The words were spoken good naturedly, but the youth had + touched a spot, scarcely yet thoroughly scarred over, in the old man's + bosom; and memories, not less painful because they had been bidden so + long, were instantly wakened into fresh and cruel activity. + </p> + <p> + It will not diminish the offence of the nephew in the mind of the reader, + when he is told that the youth was not ignorant of the particular + tenderness of his relative in this respect. The gentle nature of the + latter, alone, rescued him from the well-merited reproach of suffering his + habitual levity of mood to prevail in reference to one whom even he + himself was disposed to honor. But few words passed between the two, ere + they reached the place of appointment. The careless reference of the youth + had made the thoughts of the senior active at the expense of his + observation. His eyes were now turned inward; and the landscape, and the + evening sun, which streamed over and hallowed it with a tender beauty to + the last, was as completely hidden from his vision, as if a veil had been + drawn above his sight. The retrospect, indeed, is ever the old man's + landscape; and perhaps, even had he not been so unkindly driven back to + its survey, our aged traveller would have been reminded of the past in the + momently-deepening shadows which the evening gathered around his path. + Twilight is the cherished season for sad memories, even as the midnight is + supposed to be that of guilty ghosts; and nothing, surely, can be more + fitting than that the shadows of former hopes should revisit us in those + hours when the face of nature itself seems darkening into gloom. + </p> + <p> + It was night before the wayfarers reached the appointed baiting place. + There they found their company—a sort of little caravan, such as is + frequent in the history of western emigration—already assembled, and + the supper awaiting them. Let us leave them to its enjoyment, and return + once more to the village of Charlemont. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. — THE STRONG-MINDED WOMAN. + </h2> + <p> + The young maiden last met by our travellers, and whose appearance had so + favorably impressed them, had not been altogether uninfluenced by the + encounter. Her spirit was of a musing and perhaps somewhat moody + character, and the little adventure related in our last chapter, had + awakened in her mind a train of vague and purposeless thought, from which + she did not strive to disengage herself. She ceased to pursue the direct + path back to Charlemont, the moment she had persuaded herself that the + strangers had continued on their way; and turning from the beaten track, + she strolled aside, following the route of a brooklet, the windings of + which, as it led her forward, were completely hidden from the intrusive + glance of any casual wayfarer. The prattle of the little stream as it + wound upon its sleepless journey, contributed still more to strengthen the + musings of those vagrant fancies that filled the maiden's thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She sat down upon the prostrate trunk of a tree, and surrendered herself + for a while to their control. Her thoughts were probably of a kind which, + to a certain extent, are commended to every maiden. Among them, + perpetually rose an image of the bold and handsome stranger, whose + impudence, in turning back in pursuit of her, was somewhat qualified by + the complimentary curiosity which such conduct manifested. Predominant + even over this image, however, was the conviction of isolation which she + felt where she was, and the still more painful conviction, that the future + was without promise. Such thoughts and apprehensions may be natural enough + to all young persons of active, earnest nature, not permitted to perform; + but in the bosom of Margaret Cooper they were particularly so. Her mind + was of a masculine and commanding character, and was ill-satisfied with + her position and prospect in Charlemont. A quiet, obscure village, such as + that we have described, held forth no promise for a spirit so proud, + impatient, and ambitious as hers. She knew the whole extent of knowledge + which it contained, and all its acquisitions and resources—she had + sounded its depths, and traced all its shallows. The young women kept no + pace with her own progress—they were good, silly girls enough—a + chattering, playful set, whom small sports could easily satisfy, and who + seemed to have no care, and scarce a hope, beyond the hilly limits of + their homestead; and as for the young men—they were only suited to + the girls, such as they were, and could never meet the demand of such an + intellect as hers. + </p> + <p> + This lofty self-estimate, which was in some sense just, necessarily gave a + tone to her language and a coloring to all her thoughts, such as good + sense and amiability should equally strive to suppress and conceal—unless, + as in the case of Margaret Cooper, the individual herself was without due + consciousness of their presence. It had the effect of discouraging and + driving from her side many a good-natured damsel, who would have loved to + condole with her, and might have been a pleasant companion. The young + women regarded her with some dislike in consequence of her self-imposed + isolation—and the young men with some apprehension. Her very + knowledge of books, which infinitely surpassed that of all her sex within + the limits of Charlemont, was also an object of some alarm. It had been + her fortune, whether well or ill may be a question, to inherit from her + father a collection, not well chosen, upon which her mind had preyed with + an appetite as insatiate as it was undiscriminating. They had taught her + many things, but among these neither wisdom nor patience was included;—and + one of the worst lessons which she had learned, and which they had + contributed in some respects to teach, was discontent with her condition—a + discontent which saddened, if it did not embitter, her present life, while + it left the aspects of the future painfully doubtful, even to her own eye. + </p> + <p> + She was fatherless, and had been already taught some of those rude lessons + which painfully teach dependence; but such lessons, which to most others + would have brought submission, only provoked her to resistance. Her + natural impetuosity of disposition, strengthened by her mother's + idolatrous indulgence, increased the haughtiness of her character; and + when, to these influences, we add that her surviving parent was poor, and + suffered from privations which were unfelt by many of their neighbors, it + may be easily conceived that a temper and mind such as we have described + those of Margaret Cooper—ardent, commanding, and impatient, hourly + found occasion, even in the secluded village where she dwelt, for the + exercise of moods equally adverse to propriety and happiness. Isolated + from the world by circumstances, she doubly exiled herself from its social + indulgences, by the tyrannical sway of a superior will, strengthened and + stimulated by an excitable and ever feverish blood; and, as we find her + now, wandering sad and sternly by the brookside, afar from the sports and + humbler sources of happiness, which gentler moods left open to the rest, + so might she customarily be found, at all hours, when it was not + absolutely due to appearances that she should be seen among the crowds. + </p> + <p> + We will not now seek to pursue her musings and trace them out to their + conclusions, nor will it be necessary that we should do more than indicate + their character. That they were sad and solemn as usual—perhaps + humbling—may be gathered from the fact that a big tear might have + been seen, long gathering in her eye;—the next moment she brushed + off the intruder with an impatience of gesture, that plainly showed how + much her proud spirit resented any such intrusion. The tear dispersed the + images which had filled her contemplative mood, and rising from her sylvan + seat, she prepared to move forward, when a voice calling at some little + distance, drew her attention. Giving a hasty glance in the direction of + the sound, she beheld a young man making his way through the woods, and + approaching her with rapid footsteps. His evident desire to reach her, did + not, however, prompt her to any pause in her own progress; but, as if + satisfied with the single glance which she gave him, and indifferent + utterly to his object, she continued on her way, nor stopped for an + instant, nor again looked back, until his salutation, immediately behind + her, compelled her attention and answer. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret—Miss Cooper!” said the speaker, who was a young rustic, + probably twenty or twenty-one years of age, of tall, good person, a + handsome face, which was smooth, though of dark complexion, and lightened + by an eye of more than ordinary size and intelligence. His tones were + those of one whose sensibilities were fine and active, and it would not + have called for much keen observation to have seen that his manner, in + approaching and addressing the maiden, was marked with some little + trepidation. She, on the contrary, seemed too familiar with his homage, or + too well satisfied of his inferiority, to deign much attention to his + advances. She answered his salutation coldly, and was preparing to move + forward, when his words again called for her reluctant notice. + </p> + <p> + “I have looked for you, Margaret, full an hour. Mother sent me after you + to beg that you will come there this evening. Old Jenks has come up from + the river, and brought a store of fine things—there's a fiddle for + Ned, and Jason Lightner has a flute, and I—I have a small lot of + books, Margaret, that I think will please you.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, William Hinkley, and thank your mother, but I can not come + this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not, Margaret?—your mother's coming—she promised for + you too, but I thought you might not get home soon enough to see her, and + so I came out to seek you.” + </p> + <p> + “I am very sorry you took so much trouble, William, for I cannot come this + evening.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not, Margaret? You have no other promise to go elsewhere have + you?” + </p> + <p> + “None,” was the indifferent reply. + </p> + <p> + “Then—but, perhaps, you are not well, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite well, I thank you, William Hinkley, but I don't feel like + going out this evening. I am not in the humor.” + </p> + <p> + Already, in the little village of Charlemont, Margaret Cooper was one of + the few who were permitted to indulge in humors, and William Hinkley + learned the reason assigned for her refusal, with an expression of regret + and disappointment, if not of reproach. An estoppel, which would have been + so conclusive in the case of a city courtier, was not sufficient, however, + to satisfy the more frank and direct rustic, and he proceeded with some + new suggestions, in the hope to change her determination. + </p> + <p> + “But you'll be so lonesome at home, Margaret, when your mother's with us. + She'll be gone before you can get back, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm never lonesome, William, at least I'm never so well content or so + happy as when I'm alone,” was the self-satisfactory reply. + </p> + <p> + “But that's so strange, Margaret. It's so strange that you should be + different from everybody else. I often wonder at it, Margaret; for I know + none of the other girls but love to be where there's a fiddle, and where + there's pleasant company. It's so pleasant to be where everybody's + pleased; and then, Margaret, where one can talk so well as you, and of so + many subjects, it's a greater wonder still that you should not like to be + among the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not, however, William,” was the answer in more softened tones. There + was something in this speech of her lover, that found its way through the + only accessible avenues of her nature. It was a truth, which she often + repeated to herself with congratulatory pride, that she had few feelings + or desires in common with the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “It is my misfortune,” she continued, “to care very little for the + pastimes you speak of; and as for the company, I've no doubt it will be + very pleasant for those who go, but to me it will afford very little + pleasure. Your mother must therefore excuse me, William:—I should be + a very dull person among the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “She will be so very sorry, Margaret—and Ned, whose new fiddle has + just come, and Jason Lightner, with his flute. They all spoke of you and + look for you above all, to hear them this evening. They will be so + disappointed.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley spoke nothing of his own disappointment, but it was + visible enough in his blank countenance, and sufficiently audible in the + undisguised faltering of his accents. + </p> + <p> + “I do not think they will be so much disappointed, William Hinkley. They + have no reason to be, as they have no right to look for me in particular. + I have very little acquaintance with the young men you speak of.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Margaret, they live alongside of you—and I'm sure you've met + them a thousand times in company,” was the response of the youth, uttered + in tones more earnest than any he had yet employed in the dialogue, and + with something of surprise in his accents. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so; but that makes them no intimates of mine, William Hinkley. + They may be very good young men, and, indeed, so far as I know, they + really are; but that makes no difference. We find our acquaintances and + our intimates among those who are congenial, who somewhat resemble us in + spirit, feeling, and understanding.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Margaret!” said her rustic companion with a sigh, which amply + testified to the humility of his own self-estimate, and of the decline of + his hope which came with it—“ah, Margaret, if that be the rule, + where are you going to find friends and intimates in Charlemont?” + </p> + <p> + “Where!” was the single word spoken by the haughty maiden, as her eye + wandered off to the cold tops of the distant hills along which the latest + rays of falling sunlight, faint and failing, as they fell, imparted a hue, + which though bright, still as it failed to warm, left an expression of + October sadness to the scene, that fitly harmonized with the chilling mood + under which she had spoken throughout the interview. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think, Margaret,” continued the lover, finding courage as he + continued, “that such a rule is a good one. I know it can't be a good one + for happiness. There's many a person that never will meet his or her match + in this world, in learning and understanding—and if they won't look + on other persons with kindness, because they are not altogether equal to + them, why there's a chance that they'll always be solitary and sad. It's a + real blessing, I believe, to have great sense, but I don't see, that + because one has great sense, that one should not think well and kindly of + those who have little, provided they be good, and are willing to be + friendly. Now, a good heart seems to be the very best thing that nature + can give us; and I know, Margaret, that there's no two better hearts in + all Charlemont—perhaps in all the world, though I won't say that—than + cousin Ned Hinkley, and Jason Lightner, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I don't deny their merits and their virtues, and their goodness of heart, + William Hinkley,” was the answer of the maiden—“I only say that the + possession of these qualities gives them no right to claim my sympathies + or affection. These claims are only founded upon congeniality of character + and mind, and without this congeniality, there can be no proper, no + lasting intimacy between persons. They no doubt, will find friends between + whom and themselves, this congeniality exists. I, on the other hand, must + be permitted to find mine, after my own ideas, and as I best can. But if I + do not—the want of them gives me no great concern. I find company + enough, and friends enough, even in these woods, to satisfy the desires of + my heart at present; I am not anxious to extend my acquaintance or + increase the number of my intimates.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley, who had become somewhat warmed by the argument, could + have pursued the discussion somewhat further; but the tones and manner of + his companion, to say nothing of her words, counselled him to forbear. + Still, he was not disposed altogether to give up his attempts to secure + her presence for the evening party. + </p> + <p> + “But if you don't come for the company, Margaret, recollect the music. + Even if Ned Hinkley was a perfect fool, which he is not, and Jason + Lightner were no better,—nobody can say that they are not good + musicians. Old Squire Bee says there's not in all Kentucky a better + violinist than Ned, and Jason's flute is the sweetest sound that ear ever + listened to along these hills. If you don't care anything for the players, + Margaret, I'm sure you can't be indifferent to their music; and I know + they are anything but indifferent to what you may think about it. They + will play ten times as well if you are there; and I'm sure, Margaret, I + shall be the last”—here the tone of the speaker's voice audibly + faltered—“I shall be the very last to think it sweet if you are not + there.” + </p> + <p> + But the words and faltering accents of the lover equally failed in + subduing the inflexible, perverse mood of the haughty maiden. Her cold + denial was repeated; and with looks that did not fail to speak the + disappointment of William Hinkley, he attended her back to the village. + Their progress was marked by coldness on the one hand, and decided sadness + on the other. The conversation was carried on in monosyllables only, on + the part of Margaret, while timidity and a painful hesitancy marked the + language of her attendant. But a single passage may be remembered of all + that was said between the two, ere they separated at the door of the widow + Cooper. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see the two strangers, Margaret, that passed through Charlemont + this afternoon?” + </p> + <p> + The cheeks of the maiden became instantly flushed, and the rapid utterance + of her reply in the affirmative, denoted an emotion which the jealous + instincts of the lover readily perceived. A cold chill, on the instant, + pervaded the veins of the youth; and that night he did not hear, any more + than Margaret Cooper, the music of his friends. He was present all the + time and he answered their inquiries as usual; but his thoughts were very + far distant, and somehow or other, they perpetually mingled up the image + of the young traveller, whom he too had seen, with that of the proud + woman, whom he was not yet sure that he unprofitably worshipped. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. — SIMPLICITY AND THE SERPENT. + </h2> + <p> + The mirth and music of Charlemont were enjoyed by others, but not by + Margaret Cooper. The resolution not to share in the pleasures of the young + around her, which she showed to her rustic lover, was a resolution firmly + persevered in throughout the long summer which followed. Her wayward mood + shut out from her contemplation the only sunshine of the place; and her + heart, brooding over the remote, if not the impossible, denied itself + those joys which were equally available and nigh. Her lonesome walks + became longer in the forests, and later each evening grew the hour of her + return to the village. Her solitude daily increased, as the youth, who + really loved her with all the ardency of a first passion, and who regarded + her at the same time with no little veneration for those superior gifts of + mind and education which, it was the general conviction in Charlemont, + that she possessed, became, at length, discouraged in a pursuit which + hitherto had found nothing but coldness and repulse. Not that he ceased to + love—nay, he did not cease entirely to hope. What lover ever did? He + fondly ascribed to the object of his affections a waywardness of humor, + which he fancied would pass away after a season, and leave her mind to the + influence of a more sober and wholesome judgment. Perhaps, too, like many + other youth in like circumstances, he did not always see or feel the + caprice of which he was the victim. But for this fortunate blindness, many + a fair damsel would lose her conquest quite as suddenly as it was made. + </p> + <p> + But the summer passed away, and the forest put on the sere and sombre + robes of autumn, and yet no visible change—none at least more + favorable to the wishes of William Hinkley—took place in the + character and conduct of the maiden. Her mind, on the contrary, seemed to + take something of its hue from the cold sad tones of the forest. The + serious depth of expression in her dark eyes seemed to deepen yet more, + and become yet more concentrated—their glance acquired a yet keener + intentness—an inflexibility of direction—which suffered them + seldom to turn aside from those moody contemplations, which had made her, + for a long time, infinitely prefer to gaze upon the rocks, and woods, and + waters, than upon the warm and wooing features of humanity. + </p> + <p> + At distance the youth watched and sometimes followed her, and when, with + occasional boldness, he would draw nigh to her secret wanderings, a cold + fear filled his heart, and he shrunk back with all the doubt and dread of + some guilty trespasser. But his doubt, and we may add, his dread also, was + soon to cease entirely, in the complete conviction of his hopelessness. + The day and the fate were approaching, in the person of one, to whom a + natural instinct had already taught him to look with apprehension, and + whose very first appearance had inspired him with antipathy. + </p> + <p> + What a strange prescience, in some respects, has the devoted and watchful + heart that loves! William Hinkley, had seen but for a single instant, the + face of that young traveller, who has already been introduced to us, and + that instant was enough to awaken his dislike—nay, more, his + hostility. Yet no villager in Charlemont but would have told you, that, of + all the village, William Hinkley was the most gentle, the most generous—the + very last to be moved by bad passions, by jealousy or hate. + </p> + <p> + The youth whom we have seen going down with his uncle to the great valley + of the Mississippi, was now upon his return. He was now unaccompanied by + the benignant senior with whom we first made his acquaintance. He had + simply attended the old bachelor, from whom he had considerable + expectations, to his plantation, in requital of the spring visit which the + latter had paid to his relatives in Kentucky; and having spent the summer + in the southwest, was about to resume his residence, and the profession of + the law, in that state. We have seen that, however he might have succeeded + in disguising his true feelings from his uncle, he was not unmoved by the + encounter with Margaret Cooper, on the edge of the village. He now + remembered the casual suggestion of the senior, which concluded their + discussion on the subject of her beauty; and he resolved to go aside from + his direct path, and take Charlemont in the route of his return. Not that + he himself needed a second glance to convince him of that loveliness + which, in his wilfulness, he yet denied. He was free to acknowledge to + himself that Margaret Cooper was one of the noblest and most impressive + beauties he had ever seen. The very scorn that spoke in all her features, + the imperious fires that kindled in her eyes, were better calculated than + any more gentle expressions, to impose upon one who was apt to be + skeptical on the subject of ordinary beauties. The confidence and + consciousness of superiority, which too plainly spoke out in the features + of Margaret, seemed to deny to his mind the privilege of doubting or + discussing her charms—a privilege upon which no one could have been + more apt to insist than himself. This seeming denial, while it suggested + to him ideas of novelty, provoked his curiosity and kindled his pride. The + haughty glance with which she encountered his second approach, aroused his + vanity, and a latent desire arose in his heart, to overcome one who had + shown herself so premature in her defiance. We will not venture to assert + that the young traveller had formed any very deliberate designs of + conquest, but, it may be said, as well here as elsewhere, that his + self-esteem was great; and accustomed to easy conquests among the sex, in + the region where he dwelt, it was only necessary to inflame his vanity, to + stimulate him to the exercise of all his arts. + </p> + <p> + It was about noon, on one of those bright, balmy days, early in October, + when “the bridal of the earth and sky,” in the language of the good old + Herbert, is going on—when, the summer heats subdued, there is yet + nothing either cold, or repulsive in the atmosphere; and the soft + breathing from the southwest has just power enough to stir the flowers and + disperse their scents; that our young traveller was joined in his progress + towards Charlemont, by a person mounted like himself and pursuing a + similar direction. + </p> + <p> + At the first glance the youth distinguished him as one of the homely + forest preachers of the methodist persuasion, who are the chief agents and + pioneers of religion in most of the western woods. His plain, unstudied + garments all of black, rigid and unfashionable; his pale, demure features, + and the general humility of his air and gesture, left our young skeptic + little reason to doubt of this; and when the other expressed his + satisfaction at meeting with a companion at last, after a long and weary + ride without one, the tone of his expressions, the use of biblical + phraseology, and the monotonous solemnity of his tones, reduced the doubts + of the youth to absolute certainty. At first, with the habitual levity of + the young and skeptical, he congratulated himself upon an encounter which + promised to afford him a good subject for quizzing; but a moment's + reflection counselled him to a more worldly policy, and he restrained his + natural impulse in order that he might first sound the depths of the + preacher, and learn in what respect he might be made subservient to his + own purposes. He had already learned from the latter that he was on his + way to Charlemont, of which place he seemed to have some knowledge; and + the youth, in an instant, conceived the possibility of making him useful + in procuring for himself a favorable introduction to the place. With this + thought, he assumed the grave aspect and deliberate enunciation of his + companion, expressed himself equally gratified to meet with a person who, + if he did not much mistake, was a divine, and concluded his address by the + utterance of one of those pious commonplaces which are of sufficiently + easy acquisition, and which at once secured him the unscrupulous + confidence of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, it gladdens me, sir,” said the holy man in reply, “to meet with + one, as a fellow-traveller in these lonesome ways, who hath a knowledge of + God's grace and the blessings which he daily sheddeth, even as the falling + of the dews, upon a benighted land. It is my lot, and I repine not that + such it is, to be for ever a wayfarer, in the desert where there are but + few fountains to refresh the spirit. When I say desert, young gentleman, I + speak not in the literal language of the world, for truly it were a most + sinful denial of God's bounty were I to say, looking round upon the mighty + forests through which I pass, and upon the rich soil over which I travel, + that my way lies not through a country covered, thrice covered, with the + best worldly bounties of the Lord. But it is a moral desert which my + speech would signify. The soul of man is here lacking the blessed + fountains of the truth—the mind of man here lacketh the holy and + joy-shedding lights of the spirit; and it rejoiceth me, therefore, when I + meet with one, like thyself, in whose language I find a proof that thou + hast neither heard the word with idle ears, nor treasured it in thy memory + with unapplying mind. May I ask of thee, my young friend, who thou art, + and by what name I shall call thee?—not for the satisfaction of an + idle curiosity, to know either thy profession or thy private concerns, but + that I may the better speak to thee in our conference hereafter, Thou hast + rightly conjectured as to my calling—and my own name, which is one + unknown to most even in these forests, is John Cross—I come of a + family in North Carolina, which still abide in that state, by the waters + of the river Haw. Perhaps, if thou hast ever travelled in those parts, + thou hast happened upon some of my kindred, which are very numerous.” + </p> + <p> + “I have never, reverend sir, travelled in those parts,” said the youth, + with commendable gravity, “but I have heard of the Cross family, which I + believe, as you say, to be very numerous—both male and female.” + </p> + <p> + “Yea, I have brothers and sisters an equal number; I have aunts and uncles + a store, and it has been the blessing of God so to multiply and increase + every member thereof, that each of my brothers, in turn, hath a goodly + flock, in testimony of his favors. I, alone, of all my kindred, have + neither wife nor child, and I seem as one set apart for other ties, and + other purposes.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir,” returned the other, quickly, and with a slyness of expression + which escaped the direct and unsuspecting mind of the preacher, “but if + you are denied the blessings which are theirs, you have your part in the + great family of the world. If you have neither wife nor child of your own + loins, yet, I trust, you have an abiding interest in the wives and + children of all other men.” + </p> + <p> + “I were but an unworthy teacher of the blessed word, had I not,” was the + simple answer. “Verily, all that I teach are my children; there is not one + crying to me for help, to whom I do not hasten with the speed of a father + flying to bring succor to his young. I trust in God, that I have not made + a difference between them; that I heed not one to the forfeit or suffering + of the other; and for this impartial spirit toward the flock intrusted to + my charge, do I pray, as well as for the needful strength of body and + soul, through which my duties are to be done. But thou hast not yet spoken + thy name, or my ears have failed to receive it.” + </p> + <p> + There was some little hesitation on the part of the youth before he + answered this second application; and a less unheeding observer than his + fellow-traveller, might have noticed an increasing warmth of hue upon his + cheek, while he was uttering his reply:— + </p> + <p> + “I am called Alfred Stevens,” he replied at length, the color increasing + upon his cheek even after the words were spoken. But they were spoken. The + falsehood was registered against him beyond recall, though, of course, + without startling the doubts or suspicions of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Alfred Stevens; there are many Stevenses: I have known several and + sundry. There is a worthy family of that name by the waters of the Dan.” + </p> + <p> + “You will find them, I suspect, from Dan to Beersheba,” responded the + youth with a resumption of his former levity. + </p> + <p> + “Truly, it may be so. The name is of good repute. But what is thy calling, + Alfred Stevens? Methinks at thy age thou shouldst have one.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have, reverend sir,” replied the other; “my calling heretofore has + been that of the law. But it likes me not, and I think soon to give it + up.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wilt take to some other then. What other hast thou chosen; or art + thou like those unhappy youths, by far too many in our blessed country, + whom fortune hath hurt by her gifts, and beguiled into idleness and + sloth?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, not so, reverend sir; the gifts of fortune have been somewhat + sparing in my case, and I am even now conferring with my own thoughts + whether or not to take to school-keeping. Nay, perhaps, I should incline + to something better, if I could succeed in persuading myself of my own + worthiness in a vocation which, more than all others, demands a pure mind + with a becoming zeal. The law consorts not with my desires—it + teaches selfishness, rather than self-denial; and I have already found + that some of its duties demand the blindness and the silence of that best + teacher from within, the watchful and unsleeping conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast said rightly, Alfred Stevens; I have long thought that the + profession of the law hardeneth the heart, and blindeth the conscience. + Thou wilt do well to leave it, as a craft that leads to sin, and makes the + exercise of sin a duty; and if, as I rightly understand thee, thou lookest + to the gospel as that higher vocation for which thy spirit yearneth, then + would I say to thee, arise, and gird up thy loins; advance and falter not;—the + field is open, and though the victory brings thee no worldly profit, and + but little worldly honor, yet the reward is eternal, and the interest + thereof, unlike the money which thou puttest out to usury in the hands of + men, never fails to be paid, at the very hour of its due, from the + unfailing treasury of Heaven. Verily, I rejoice, Alfred Stevens, that I + have met with thee to-day. I had feared that the day had been lost to that + goodly labor, to which all my days have been given for seventeen years, + come the first sabbath in the next November. But what thou hast said, + awakens hope in my soul that such will not be the case. Let not my + counsels fail thee, Alfred;—let thy zeal warm; let thy spirit work + within thee, and thy words kindle, in the service of the Lord. How it will + rejoice me to see thee taking up the scrip and the staff and setting forth + for the wildernesses of the Mississippi, of Arkansas, and Texas, far + beyond;—bringing the wild man of the frontier, and the red savage, + into the blessed fold and constant company of the Lord Jesus, to whom all + praise!” + </p> + <p> + “It were indeed a glorious service,” responded the young stranger—whom + we shall proceed, hereafter, to designate by the name by which he has + called himself. He spoke musingly, and with a gravity that was singularly + inflexible—“it were indeed a glorious service. Let me see, there + were thousands of miles to traverse before one might reach the lower + Arkansas; and I reckon, Mr. Cross, the roads are mighty bad after you pass + the Mississippi—nay, even in the Mississippi, through a part of + which territory I have gone only this last summer, there is a sad want of + causeways, and the bridges are exceedingly out of repair. There is one + section of near a hundred miles, which lies between the bluffs of + Ashibiloxi, and the far creek of Catahoula, that was a shame and reproach + to the country and the people thereof. What, then, must be the condition + of the Texas territory, beyond? and, if I err not, the Cumanchees are a + race rather given to destroy than to build up. The chance is that the + traveller in their country might have to swim his horse over most of the + watercourses, and where he found a bridge, it were perhaps a perilous risk + to cross it. Even then he might ride fifty miles a day, before he should + see the smokes which would be a sign of supper that night.” + </p> + <p> + “The greater the glory—the greater the glory, Alfred Stevens. The + toil and the peril, the pain and the privation, in a good cause, increase + the merit of the performance in the eyes of the Lord. What matters the + roads and the bridges, the length of the way, or the sometimes lack of + those comforts of the flesh, which are craved only at the expense of the + spirit, and to the great delay of our day of conquest. These wants are the + infirmities of the human, which dissipate and disappear, the more few they + become, and the less pressing in their complaint. Shake thyself loose from + them, Alfred Stevens, and thy way henceforth is perfect freedom.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! this is my very weakness, Mr. Cross:—it was because of these + very infirmities, that I had doubt of my own worthiness to take up the + better vocation which is yet my desire. I am sadly given to hunger and + thirst toward noon and evening; and the travel of a long day makes me so + weary at night, that I should say but a hurried grace before meal, and + make an even more hurried supper after it. Nay, I have not yet been able + to divest myself of a habit which I acquired in my boyhood; and I need at + times, throughout the day, a mouthful of something stronger than mere + animal food, to sustain the fainting and feeble flesh and keep my frame + from utter exhaustion. I dare not go upon the road, even for the brief + journey of a single day, without providing myself beforehand with a supply + of a certain beverage, such as is even now contained within this vessel, + and which is infallible against sinking of the the spirits, faintings of + the frame, disordered nerves, and even against flatulence and indigestion. + If, at any time, thou shouldst suffer from one or the other of these + infirmities, Mr. Cross, be sure there is no better medicine for their cure + than this.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker drew from his bosom a little flask, such as is sufficiently + well known to most western travellers, which he held on high, and which, + to the unsuspecting eyes of the preacher, contained a couple of gills or + more of a liquid of very innocent complexion. + </p> + <p> + “Verily, Alfred Stevens, I do myself suffer from some of the weaknesses of + which thou hast spoken. The sinking of the spirits, and the faintness of + the frame, are but too often the enemies that keep me back from the plough + when I would thereto set my hand; and that same flatulence—” + </p> + <p> + “A most frequent disorder in a region where greens and collards form the + largest dishes on the tables of the people,” interrupted Stevens, but + without changing a muscle of his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I do believe as thou say'st, Alfred Stevens, that the disorder comes in + great part from that cause, though, still, I have my doubts if it be not a + sort of wind-melancholy, to which people, who preach aloud are greatly + subject. It is in my case almost always associated with a sort of + hoarseness, and the nerves of my frame twitch grievously at the same + periods. If this medicine of thine be sovereign against so cruel an + affliction, I would crave of thee such knowledge as would enable me to get + a large supply of it, that I may overcome a weakness, which, as I tell + thee, oftentimes impairs my ministry, and sometimes makes me wholly + incapable of fervent preaching. Let me smell of it, I pray thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, taste of it, sir—it is just about the time when I find it + beneficial to partake of it, as a medicine for my own weakness, and I + doubt not, it will have a powerful effect also upon you. A single draught + has been found to relieve the worst case of flatulence and colic.” + </p> + <p> + “From colic too, I am also a great sufferer,” said the preacher as he took + the flask in his hand, and proceeded to draw the stopper. + </p> + <p> + “That is also the child of collards,” said Stevens, as he watched with a + quiet and unmoved countenance the proceedings of his simple companion, who + finding some difficulty in drawing the cork, handed it back to the youth. + The latter, more practised, was more successful, and now returned the open + bottle to the preacher. + </p> + <p> + “Take from it first, the dose which relieves thee, Alfred Stevens, that I + may know how much will avail in my own case;” and he watched curiously, + while Stevens, applying the flask to his lips, drew from it a draught, + which, in western experience of benefits, would have been accounted a very + moderate potion. This done, he handed it back to his companion, who, about + to follow his example, asked him:— + </p> + <p> + “And by what name, Alfred Stevens, do they call this medicine, the goodly + effect of which thou holdst to be so great?” + </p> + <p> + Stevens did not immediately reply—not until the preacher had applied + the bottle to his mouth, and he could see by the distension of his throat, + that he had imbibed a taste, at least, of the highly-lauded medicine. The + utterance then, of the single word—“Brandy”—was productive of + an effect no less ludicrous in the sight of the youth, than it was + distressing to the mind of his worthy companion. The descending liquor was + ejected with desperate effort from the throat which it had fairly entered—the + flask flung from his hands—and with choking and gurgling accents, + startling eyes, and reddening visage, John Cross turned full upon his + fellow-traveller, vainly trying to repeat, with the accompanying horror of + expression which he felt, the single spellword, which had produced an + effect so powerful. + </p> + <p> + “Bran—bran—brandy!—Alfred Stevens!—thou hast given + me poison—the soul's poison—the devil's liquor—liquor + distilled in the vessels of eternal sin. Wherefore hast thou done this? + Dost thou not know”— + </p> + <p> + “Know—know what, Mr. Cross?” replied Stevens, with all the + astonishment which he could possibly throw into his air, as he descended + from his horse with all haste to recover his flask, and save its remaining + contents from loss. + </p> + <p> + “Call me not mister—call me plain John Cross,” replied the preacher—in + the midst of a second fit of choking, the result of his vain effort to + disgorge that portion of the pernicious liquid which had irretrievably + descended into his bowels. With a surprise admirably affected, Stevens + approached him. + </p> + <p> + “My dear sir—what troubles you?—what can be the matter? What + have I done? What is it you fear?” + </p> + <p> + “That infernal draught—that liquor—I have swallowed of it a + mouthful. I feel it in me. The sin be upon thy head, Alfred Stevens—why + did you not tell me, before I drank, that it was the soul's poison?—the + poison that slays more than the sword or the pestilence;—the liquor + of the devil, distilled in the vessels of sin—and sent among men for + the destruction of the soul! I feel it now within me, and it burns—it + burns like the fires of damnation. Is there no water nigh that I may + quench my thirst?—Show me, Alfred Stevens, show me where the cool + waters lie, that I may put out these raging flames.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a branch, if I mistake not, just above us on the road—I + think I see it glistening among the leaves. Let us ride toward it, sir, + and it will relieve you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Alfred Stevens, why have you served me thus? Why did you not tell + me?” + </p> + <p> + Repeated groans accompanied this apostrophe, and marked every step in the + progress of the preacher to the little rivulet which trickled across the + road. John Cross, descended with the rapidity of one whose hope hangs upon + a minute, and dreads its loss, as equal to the loss of life. He straddled + the stream and thrust his lips into the water, drawing up a quantity + sufficient, in the estimation of Stevens, to have effectually neutralized + the entire contents of his flask. + </p> + <p> + “Blessed water! Blessed water! Holiest beverage! Thou art the creation of + the Lord, and, next to the waters of eternal life, his best gift to + undiscerning man. I drink of thee, and I am faint no longer. I rise up, + strong and refreshed! Ah, my young friend, Alfred Stevens, I trust thou + didst not mean me harm in giving me that poisonous liquor?” + </p> + <p> + “Far from it, sir, I rather thought to do you a great benefit.” + </p> + <p> + “How couldst thou think to do me benefit by proffering such poison to my + lips? nay, wherefore dost thou thyself carry it with thee, and why dost + thou drink of it, as if it were something not hurtful as well to the body + as the soul? Take my counsel, I pray thee, Alfred Stevens, and cast it + behind thee for ever. Look not after it when thou dost so, with an eye of + regret lest thou forfeit the merit of thy self-denial. If thou wouldst + pursue the higher vocation of the brethren, thou must seek for the needful + strength from a better and purer spirit. But what unhappy teacher could + have persuaded thee to an indulgence which the good men of all the + churches agree to regard as so deadly?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Mr. Cross—” + </p> + <p> + “John Cross, I pray thee; do I not call thee Alfred Stevens?—Mr. is + a speech of worldly fashion, and becomes not one who should put the world + and its fashions behind him.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens found it more difficult to comply with this one requisition of the + preacher, than to pursue a long game of artful and complex scheming. He + evaded the difficulty by dropping the name entirely. + </p> + <p> + “You are too severe upon brandy, and upon those who use it. Nay, I am not + sure, but you do injustice to those who make it. So far from its + manufacturers being such as you call them, we have unquestionable proof + that they are very worthy people of a distant but a Christian country; and + surely you will not deny that we should find a medicine for our hurts, and + a remedy for our complaints, in a liquor which, perhaps, it might be + sinful to use as an ordinary beverage. Doctors, who have the care of human + life, and whose business and desire it is to preserve it, nevertheless do + sometimes administer poisons to their patients, which poisons, though + deadly at other times, will, in certain diseases and certain conditions of + disease, prove of only and great good.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! I believe it not! I believe not in the good of brandy. It is + hurtful—it is deadly. It has slain its thousands and its tens of + thousands—it is worse than the sword and the summer pestilence. Many + a man have I known to perish from strong drink. In my own parts, upon the + river Haw, in North Carolina state, I have known many. Nay, wherefore + should I spare the truth, Alfred Stevens?—the very father of my own + life, Ezekiel Cross, perished miserably from this burning water of sin. I + will not hear thee speak of it again; and if thou wouldst have me think of + thee with favor, as one hopeful of the service of the brethren, cast the + accursed beverage of Satan from thy hands.” + </p> + <p> + The youth, without a word, deliberately emptied the contents of his vessel + upon the sands, and the garrulous lips of the preacher poured forth as + great a flood of speech in congratulation, as he had hitherto bestowed in + homily. The good, unsuspecting man, did not perceive that the liquor thus + thrown away, was very small in quantity, and that his companion, when the + flask was emptied, quietly restored it to his bosom. John Cross had + obtained a seeming victory, and did not care to examine its details. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. — THE SERPENT IN THE GARDEN. + </h2> + <p> + The concession made by Stevens, and which had produced an effect so + gratifying upon his companion, was one that involved no sacrifices. The + animal appetite of the young lawyer was, in truth, comparatively speaking, + indifferent to the commodity which he discarded; and even had it been + otherwise, still he was one of those selfish, cool and calculating + persons, who seem by nature to be perfectly able to subdue the claims of + the blood, with great ease, whenever any human or social policy would + appear to render it advisable. The greatest concession which he made in + the transaction, was in his so readily subscribing to that false logic of + the day, which reasons against the use of the gifts of Providence, because + a diseased moral, and a failing education, among men, sometimes result in + their abuse. + </p> + <p> + The imperfections of a mode of reasoning so utterly illogical, were as + obvious to the mind of the young lawyer as to anybody else; and the + compliance which he exhibited to a requisition which his own sense readily + assured him was as foolish as it was presumptuous, was as degrading to his + moral character from the hypocrisy which it declared, as it was happy in + reference to the small policy by which he had been governed. The + unsuspecting preacher did not perceive the scornful sneer which curled his + lips and flashed his eyes, by which his own vanity still asserted itself + through the whole proceeding; or he would not have been so sure that the + mantle of grace which he deemed to have surely fallen upon the shoulders + of his companion, was sufficiently large and sound, to cover the multitude + of sins which it yet enabled the wearer, so far, to conceal. Regarding him + with all the favor which one is apt to feel for the person whom he has + plucked as a brand from the burning, the soul of John Cross warmed to the + young sinner; and it required no great effort of the wily Stevens to win + from him the history, not only of all its own secrets and secret hopes—for + these were of but small value in the eyes of the worldling—but of + all those matters which belonged to the little village to which they were + trending, and the unwritten lives of every dweller in that happy + community. + </p> + <p> + With all the adroit and circumspect art of the lawyer, sifting the + testimony of the unconscious witness, and worming from his custody those + minor details which seem to the uninitiated so perfectly unimportant to + the great matter immediately in hand—Stevens now propounded his + direct inquiry, and now dropped his seemingly unconsidered insinuation, by + which he drew from the preacher as much as he cared to know of the rustic + lads and lasses of Charlemont. It does not concern our narrative to render + the details thus unfolded to the stranger. And we will content ourselves, + as did the younger of the travellers, who placed himself with hearty good + will at the disposal of the holy man. + </p> + <p> + “You shall find for me a place of lodging, Mr. Cross, while it shall suit + me to stay in Charlemont. You have a knowledge of the people, and of the + world, which I possess not; and it will be better that I should give + myself up to your guidance. I know that you will not bring me to the + dwelling of persons not in good repute; and, perhaps, I need not remind + you that my worldly means are small—I must be at little charge + wherever I stop.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Brother Stevens, worldly goods and worldly wealth are no more needed + in Charlemont, than they are necessary to the service of the blessed + Redeemer. With an empty scrip is thy service blest;—God sees the + pure heart through the threadbare garment. I have friends in Charlemont + who will be too happy to receive thee in the name of the Lord, without + money and without price.” + </p> + <p> + The pride of Stevens, which had not shrunk from hypocrisy and falsehood, + yet recoiled at a suggestion which involved the idea of his pecuniary + dependence upon strangers, and he replied accordingly; though he still + disguised his objections under the precious appearance of a becoming moral + scruple. + </p> + <p> + “It will not become me, Mr. Cross, to burden the brethren of the church + for that hospitality which is only due to brethren.” + </p> + <p> + “But thou art in the way of grace—the light is shining upon thee—the + door is open, and already the voice of the Bridegroom is calling from + within. Thou wilt become a burning and a shining light—and the + brethren of the church will rejoice to hail thee among its chosen. Shall + they hold back their hand when thou art even on the threshold?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Cross—” + </p> + <p> + “Call me not Mr., I pray thee. Call me plain John Cross, if it please thee + not yet to apply to me that sweeter term of loving kindness which the + flock of God are happy to use in speech one to another. If thou wilt call + me Brother Cross, my heart shall acknowledge the bonds between us, and my + tongue shall make answer to thine, in like fashion. Oh, Alfred Stevens, + may the light shine soon upon thine eyes, that thou may'st know for a + truth how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in the peace of of + the Lord, and according to his law. I will, with God's grace, bring thee + to this perfect knowledge, for I see the way clear because of the humility + which thou hast already shown, and thy yielding to the counsels of the + teacher. As for what thou sayest about charges to the brethren, let that + give thee no concern. Thou shalt lodge with old Brother Hinkley, who is + the pattern of good things and of, holiness in Charlemont. His house is + more like unto the tent of the patriarch pitched upon the plain, than the + house of the dweller among the cities. No lock fastens its doors against + the stranger; and the heart of the aged man is even more open than the + doorway of his dwelling. He standeth in the entrance like one looking out + for him that cometh, and his first word to the messenger of God, is + 'welcome!' Thou shalt soon see the truth of what I say to thee, for even + now do we look down upon his house in the very midst of the village.” + </p> + <p> + If the scruples of Stevens still continued to urge him against accepting + the hospitality of the old patriarch of whom he had received a description + at once just and agreeable, the recollection of the village-maiden whom he + had gone aside from his direct path of travel, and made some even greater + departures from the truth, to see, determined him at length to waive them; + particularly when he ascertained from his fellow-traveller that he knew of + nobody in Charlemont who accommodated strangers for money. + </p> + <p> + Stevens was one of those persons who watch the progress of events, and he + resolved, with a mental reservation—that seems strange enough in the + case of one who had shown so little reluctance to say and do the thing + which he could not maintain or defend—to avail himself of some means + for requiting, to the uttermost farthing, the landlord, to whose + hospitality he might be indebted during his stay in Charlemont. + </p> + <p> + Such are the contradictions of character which hourly detect and describe + the mere worldling—the man lacking in all principle, but that which + is subservient to his selfish policy. To accept money or money's worth + from a stranger, seemed mean and humbling to one, who did not hesitate, in + the promotion of a scheme, which, had treachery for its object, to clothe + himself in the garments of deception, and to make his appearance with a + lie festering upon his lips. That evening, Alfred Stevens became, with his + worthier companion, an inmate of the happy dwelling of William Hinkley, + the elder—a venerable, white-headed father, whose whole life had + made him worthy of a far higher eulogium than that which John Cross had + pronounced upon him. + </p> + <p> + The delight of the family to see their reverend teacher was heartfelt and + unreserved. A vigorous gripe of the hand, by the elder dragged him into + the house, and a sentence of unusual length, from his better half, assured + him of that welcome which the blunter action of her venerable husband had + already sufficiently declared. Nor was the young adventurer who + accompanied the preacher, suffered to remain long unconsidered. When John + Cross had told them who he was, or rather when he had declared his + spiritual hopes in him—which he did with wonderful unction, in a + breath—the reception of old Hinkley, which had been hospitable + enough before, became warm and benignant; and Brother Stevens already + became the word of salutation, whenever the old people desired to + distinguish their younger guest. + </p> + <p> + Brother Stevens, it may be said here, found no difficulty in maintaining + the character he had assumed. He had, in high degree, the great art of the + selfish man, and could, when his game required it, subdue with little + effort, those emotions and impulses, which the frank and ardent spirit + must speak out or die. He went into the house of the hospitable old man, + and into the village of Charlemont, as if he had gone into the camp of an + enemy. He was, indeed, a spy, seeking to discover, not the poverty, but + the richness of the land. His mind, therefore, was like one who has + clothed himself in armor, placed himself in waiting for the foe, and set + all his sentinels on the watch. His caution measured every word ere it was + spoken, every look ere it was shown, every movement ere he suffered his + limbs to make it. The muscles of his face, were each put under curb and + chain—the smiles of the lip and the glances of the eyes, were all + subdued to precision, and permitted to go forth, only under special guard + and restriction. In tone, look, and manner, he strove as nearly as he + might to resemble the worthy but simple-minded man, who had so readily + found a worthy adherent and pupil in him; and his efforts at deception + might be held to be sufficiently successful, if the frank confiding faith + of the aged heads of the Hinkley family be the fitting test of his + experiment. + </p> + <p> + With them he was soon perfectly at home—his own carriage seemed to + them wondrously becoming, and the approbation of John Cross was of itself + conclusive. The preacher was the oracle of the family, all of whom were + only too happy of his favor not to make large efforts to be pleased with + those he brought; and in a little while, sitting about the friendly + fireside, the whole party had become as sociable as if they had been “hail + fellow! well met,” a thousand years. Two young girls, children of a + relative, and nieces of the venerable elder, had already perched + themselves upon the knee of the stranger, and strove at moments over his + neck and shoulder, without heeding the occasional sugary reproof of Dame + Hinkley, which bade them “let Brother Stevens be;” and, already had + Brother Stevens himself, ventured upon the use of sundry grave saws from + the holy volume, the fruit of early reading and a retentive memory, which + not a little helped to maintain his novel pretensions in the mind of the + brethren, and the worthy teacher, John Cross himself. All things promised + a long duration to a friendship suddenly begun; when William Hinkley, the + younger, a youth already introduced to the reader, made his appearance + within the happy circle. He wore a different aspect from all the rest as + he recognised in the person of Brother Stevens, the handsome stranger, his + antipathy to whom, at a first glance, months before, seemed almost to have + the character of a warning instinct. A nearer glance did not serve to + lessen his hostility. + </p> + <p> + Our traveller was to the eye of a lover, one, indeed, who promised + dangerous rivalship, and an intrepid air of confidence which, even his + assumed character could not enable him to disguise from the searching eyes + of jealousy, contributed to strengthen the dislike of the youth for a + person who seemed so perfectly sure of his ground. Still, William Hinkley + behaved as a civil and well-bred youth might be expected to behave. He did + not suffer his antipathy to put on the aspect of rudeness; he was grave + and cold, but respectful; and though he did not “be-brother” the stranger, + he yet studiously subdued his tones to mildness, when it became necessary, + in the course of the evening meal, that he should address him. Few words, + however, were exchanged between the parties. If Hinkley beheld an enemy to + his heart's hopes in Stevens, the latter was sufficiently well-read in the + human heart to discover quite as soon, that the rustic was prepared to see + in himself any character but that of a friend. The unwillingness with + which Hinkley heard his suggestions—the absence of all freedom and + ease in his deportment, toward himself, so different from the manner of + the youth when speaking or listening to all other persons; the occasional + gleam of jealous inquiry and doubt within his eye, and the utter lack of + all enthusiasm and warmth in his tones while he spoke to him, satisfied + Stevens, that he, of all the household of his hospitable entertainers, if + not actually suspicious of his true character, was the one whose + suspicions were those most easily to be awakened, and who of all others, + needed most to be guarded against. It will not increase our estimate of + the wisdom of the stranger, to learn that, with this conviction, he should + yet arrogate to himself a tone of superiority, while speaking in hearing + of the youth. + </p> + <p> + This was shown in a manner that was particularly galling to a + high-spirited youth, and one whose prejudices were already awakened + against the speaker. It was that of a paternal and patronizing senior, + whose very gentleness and benignity of look and accent, seem to arise from + a full conviction of the vast difference which exists between himself and + his hearer. An indignity like this, which can not be resented, is one + which the young mind feels always most anxious to resent. The very + difficulties in the way of doing so, stimulates the desire. Such was the + feeling of William Hinkley. With such a feeling it may be conjectured that + opportunity was not long wanting, or might soon be made, for giving + utterance to the suppressed fires of anger which were struggling in his + heart. Days and weeks may elapse, but the antipathy will declare itself at + last. It would be easier to lock up the mountain torrent after the breath + of the tornado has torn away its rocky seals, than to stifle in the heart + that hates, because of its love, the fierce fury which these united + passions enkindle within it. + </p> + <p> + In the first hour of their first interview, William Hinkley and Alfred + Stevens felt that they were mutual foes. In that little space of time, the + former had but one thought, which, though it changed its aspect with each + progressive moment, never for an instant changed its character. He panted + with the hope of redressing himself for wrongs which he could not name; + for injuries and indignities which he knew not how to describe. Stevens + had neither done nor said anything which might be construed into an + offence. And yet, nobody knew better than Stevens that he had been + offensive. The worthy John Cross, in the simplicity of his nature, never + dreamed of this, but, on the contrary, when our adventurer dilated in the + fatherly manner already adverted to, be looked upon himself as + particularly favored of Heaven, in falling upon a youth, as a pupil, of + such unctuous moral delivery. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” he mused internally, “this is a becoming instrument which I have + found, for the prosecution of the good work. He will bear the word like + one sent forth to conquer. He will bind and loose with a strong hand. He + will work wondrous things!” + </p> + <p> + Not unlike these were the calculations of old Hinkley, as he hearkened to + the reverend reasonings and the solemn commonplaces of the stranger. + Stevens, like most recent converts, was the most uncompromising enemy of + those sins from which he professed to have achieved with difficulty his + own narrow escape; and finding, from the attentive ear of his audience, + that he had made a favorable impression, he proceeded to manufacture for + them his religious experience; an art which his general information, and + knowledge of the world enabled him to perform without much difficulty. + </p> + <p> + But the puritan declamation which pleased all the rest, disgusted young + Hinkley, and increased his dislike for the declaimer. There was too much + of the worldling in the looks, dress, air, and manner of Stevens, to + satisfy the rustic of his sincerity. Something of his doubts had their + source, without question, in the antipathy which he had formed against + him; but William Hinkley was not without keen, quick, observing, and + justly discriminating faculties, and much of his conclusions were the due + consequence of a correct estimate of the peculiarities which we have + named. Stevens, he perceived, declared his experiences of religion, with + the air of one who expects the congratulations of his audience. The + humility which thinks only of the acquisition itself, as the very + perfection of human conquest, was wanting equally to his language and + deportment. The very details which he gave, were ostentatious; and the + gracious smiles which covered his lips as he concluded, were those of the + self-complacent person, who feels that he has just been saying those good + things, which, of necessity, must command the applause of his hearers. + </p> + <p> + A decent pause of half an hour after the supper was finished, which was + spent by the jealous youth in utter silence, and he then rose abruptly and + hurried from the apartment, leaving the field entirely to his opponent. He + proceeded to the house of his neighbor and cousin, Ned Hinkley, but + without any hope of receiving comfort from his communion. Ned was a + lively, thoughtless, light-hearted son of the soil, who was very slow to + understand sorrows of any kind; and least of all, those which lie in the + fancy of a dreaming and a doubtful lover. At this moment, when the + possession of a new violin absorbed all his thoughts, his mind was + particularly obtuse on the subject of sentimental grievances, and the + almost voluptuous delight which filled his eyes when William entered his + chamber, entirely prevented him from seeing the heavy shadow which + overhung the brows of the latter. + </p> + <p> + “What, back again, William? Why, you're as changeable as the last suit of + a green lizard. When I asked you to stop, and hear me play 'Cross-possum,' + and 'Criss-cross,' off you went without giving me a civil answer. I've a + mind now to put up the fiddle and send your ears to bed supperless. How + would you like that, old fellow? but I'll be good-natured. You shall have + it, though you don't deserve it; she's in prime tune, and the tones—only + hear that, Bill—there. Isn't she delicious?” + </p> + <p> + And as the inconsiderate cousin poured out his warmest eulogy of the + favorite instrument, his right hand flourished the bow in air, in a style + that would have cheered the heart of Jean Crapaud himself, and then + brought it over the cat-gut in a grand crash, that sounded as harshly in + the ears of his morbid visitor, as if the two worlds had suddenly come + together with steam-engine velocity. He clapped his hands upon the invaded + organs, and with something like horror in his voice, cried out his + expostulations. + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, Ned, don't stun a body with your noise.” + </p> + <p> + “Noise! Did you say noise, Bill Hinkley—noise?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, noise,” answered the other with some peevishness in his accents. The + violinist looked at him incredulously, while he suffered the point of the + fiddle-bow to sink on a line with the floor; then, after a moment's pause, + he approached his companion, wearing in his face the while, an appearance + of the most grave inquiry, and when sufficiently nigh, he suddenly brought + the bow over the strings of the instrument, immediately in William's ears, + with a sharp and emphatic movement, producing an effect to which the + former annoying crash, might well have been thought a very gentle + effusion. This was followed by an uncontrollable burst of laughter from + the merry lips of the musician. + </p> + <p> + “There—that's what I call a noise, Bill. Sweet Sall CAN make a noise + when I worry her into it; she's just like other women in that respect; + she'll be sure to squall out if you don't touch her just in the right + quarter. But the first time she did NOT go amiss, and as for stunning you—but + what's the matter? Where's the wind now?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—only I don't want to be deafened with such a clatter.” + </p> + <p> + “Something's wrong, Bill, I know it. You look now for all the world like a + bottle of sour son, with the cork out, and ready to boil over. As for Sall + making a noise the first time, that's all a notion, and a very strange + one. She was as sweet-spoken then as she was when you left me before + supper. The last time, I confess, I made her squall out on purpose. But + what of that? you are not the man to get angry with a little fun!” + </p> + <p> + “No, I'm not angry with you, Ned—I am not angry with anybody; but + just now, I would rather not hear the fiddle. Put it up.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” said the other good-naturedly, as he placed the favorite + instrument in its immemorial case in the corner. “There; and now Bill, + untie the pack, and let's see the sort of wolf-cubs you've got to carry; + for there's no two horns to a wild bull, if something hasn't gored you + to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “You're mistaken, Ned—quite mistaken—quite!” + </p> + <p> + “Deuse a bit! I know you too well, Bill Hinkley, so it's no use to hush up + now. Out with it, and don't be sparing, and if there's any harm to come, + I'm here, just as ready to risk a cracked crown for you, as if the trouble + was my own. I'd rather fiddle than fight, it's true; but when there's any + need for it, you know I can do one just as well as the other; and can go + to it with just as much good humor. So show us the quarrel.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no quarrel. Ned,” said the other, softened by the frank and ready + feeling which his companion showed; “but I'm very foolish in some things, + and don't know how it is. I'm not apt to take dislikes, but there's a man + come to our house with John Cross, this evening, that I somehow dislike + very much.” + </p> + <p> + “A man! What's he like? Anything like Joe Richards? That was a fellow that + I hated mightily. I never longed to lick any man but Joe Richards, and him + I longed to lick three times, though you know I never got at him more than + twice. It's a great pity he got drowned, for I owe him a third licking, + and don't feel altogether right, since I know no sort of way to pay it. + But if this man's anything like Joe, it may be just the same if I give it + to HIM. Now—” + </p> + <p> + “He's nothing like Richards,” said the other. “He's a taller and + better-looking man.” + </p> + <p> + “If he's nothing like Joe, what do you want to lick him for?” said the + single-minded musician, with a surprise in his manner, which was mingled + with something like rebuke. + </p> + <p> + “I have expressed no such wish, Ned; you are too hasty; and if I did wish + to whip him, I don't think I should trouble you or any man to help me. If + I could not do it myself, I should give it up as a bad job, without + calling in assistants.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're a spunky follow—a real colt for hard riding,” retorted + the other with a good-natured mock in his tones and looks; “but if you + don't want to lick the fellow, how comes it you dislike him? It seems to + me if a chap behaved so as to make me dislike him, it wouldn't be an easy + matter to keep my hands off him. I'd teach him how to put me into a bad + humor, or I'd never touch violin again.” + </p> + <p> + “This man's a parson, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + “A parson—that's a difficulty. It is not altogether right to lick + parsons, because they're not counted fighting people. But there's a mighty + many on 'em that licking would help. No wonder you dislike the fellow, + though if he comes with John Cross, he shouldn't be altogether so bad. + Now, John Cross IS a good man. He's good, and he's good-humored. He don't + try to set people's teeth on edge against all the pleasant things of this + world, and he can laugh, and talk, and sing, like other people. Many's the + time he's asked me, of his own mouth, to play the violin; and I've seen + his little eyes caper again, when sweet Sall talked out her funniest. If + it was not so late, I'd go over now and give him a reel or two, and then I + could take a look at this strange chap, that's set your grinders against + each other.” + </p> + <p> + The fiddler looked earnestly at the instrument in the corner, his features + plainly denoting his anxiety to resume the occupation which his friends + coming had so inopportunely interrupted. William Hinkley saw the looks of + his cousin, and divined the cause. + </p> + <p> + “You shall play for me, Ned,” he remarked; “you shall give me that old + highland-reel that you learned from Scotch Geordie. It will put me out of + my bad humor, I think, and we can go to bed quietly. I've come to sleep + with you to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a good fellow, Bill; I knew that you couldn't stand it long, if + Sweet Sall kept a still tongue in her head. That reel's the very thing to + drive away bad humors, though there's another that I learnt from John + Blodget, the boat-man, that sounds to me the merriest and comicalest thing + in the world. It goes—,” and here the fiddle was put in requisition + to produce the required sounds: and having got carte blanche, our + enthusiastic performer, without weariness, went through his whole + collection, without once perceiving that his comical and merry tunes had + entirely failed to change the grave, and even gloomy expression which + still mantled the face of his companion. It was only when in his + exhaustion he set down the instrument, that he became conscious of William + Hinkley's continued discomposure. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Bill, the trouble has given you a bigger bite than I thought for. + What words did you have with the preacher?” + </p> + <p> + “None: I don't know that he is a preacher. He speaks only as if he was + trying to become one.” + </p> + <p> + “What, you hadn't any difference—no quarrel?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + “And it's only to-night that you've seen him for the first time?” + </p> + <p> + A flush passed over the grave features of William Hinkley as he heard this + question, and it was with a hesitating manner and faltering accents, that + he contrived to tell his cousin of the brief glimpse which he had of the + same stranger several months before, on that occasion, when, in the + emotion of Margaret Cooper, replying to a similar question, he first felt + the incipient seed of jealousy planted within his bosom. But this latter + incident he forbore to reveal to the inquirer; and Ned Hinkley, though + certainly endowed by nature with sufficient skill to draw forth the very + soul of music from the instrument on which he played, had no similar power + upon the secret soul of the person whom he partially examined. + </p> + <p> + “But 'tis very strange how you should take offence at a man you've seen so + little; though I have heard before this of people taking dislikes at other + people the first moment they set eyes on 'em. Now, I'm not a person of + that sort, unless it was in the case of Joe Richards; and him I took a + sort of grudge at from the first beginning. But even then there was a sort + of reason for it; for, at the beginning, when Joe came down upon us here + in Charlemont, he was for riding over people's necks, without so much as + asking, 'by your leave.' He had a way about him that vexed me, though we + did not change a word.” + </p> + <p> + “And it's that very way that this person has that I don't like,” said + William Hinkley. “He talks as if he made you, and when you talk, he smiles + as if he thought you were the very worst work that ever went out of his + hands. Then, if he has to say anything, be it ever so trifling, he says it + just as if he was telling you that the world was to come to an end the day + after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Just the same with Joe Richards. I never could get at him but twice; + though I give him then a mighty smart hammering; and if he hadn't got + under the broadhorn and got drowned;—but this fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “You'll see him at church to-morrow. I shouldn't wonder if he preaches; + for John Cross was at him about it before I came away. What's worse, the + old man's been asking him to live with us.” + </p> + <p> + “What, here in Charlemont?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be sure to lick him then, if he's anything like Joe Richards. But + what's to make him live in Charlemont? Is he to be a preacher for us?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so, but I couldn't understand all, for I came in while they were + at it, and left home before they were done. I'm sure if he stays there I + shall not. I shall leave home, for I really dislike to meet him.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall stay with me, Bill, and we'll have Sall at all hours,” was the + hearty speech of the cousin, as he threw his arms around the neck of his + morose companion, and dragged him gently toward the adjoining apartment, + which formed his chamber. “To-morrow,” he continued, “as you say, we'll + see this chap, and if he's anything like Joe Richards—” The doubled + fist of the speaker, and his threatening visage, completed the sentence + with which this present conference and chapter may very well conclude. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. — THE TOAD ON THE ALTAR. + </h2> + <p> + The next day was the sabbath. John Cross had timed his arrival at the + village with a due reference to his duties, and after a minute calculation + of days and distances, so that his spiritual manna might be distributed in + equal proportions among his hungering flock. His arrival made itself felt + accordingly, not simply in Charlemont, but throughout the surrounding + country for a circuit of ten miles or more. There was a large and hopeful + gathering of all sorts and sexes, white and black, old and young. + Charlemont had a very pretty little church of its own; but one, and that, + with more true Christianity than is found commonly in this world of + pretence and little tolerance, was open to preachers of all denominations. + The word of God, among these simple folks, was quite too important to make + them scruple at receiving it from the lips of either Geneva, Rome, or + Canterbury. The church stood out among the hills at a little distance + from, but in sight of the village; a small, neat Grecian-like temple, + glimmering white and saintlike through solemn visaged groves, and gaudy + green foliage. The old trees about it were all kept neatly trimmed, the + brush pruned away and cleared up, and a smooth sweet sward, lawn-like, + surrounded it, such as children love to skip and scramble over, and older + children rest at length upon, in pairs, talking over their sweet silly + affections. + </p> + <p> + Surrounded by an admiring crowd, each of whom had his respectful + salutation, we see our friend John Cross toward noon approaching the + sacred dwelling. Truly he was the most simple, fraternal of all God's + creatures. He had a good word for this, an affectionate inquiry for that, + a benevolent smile, and a kind pressure of the hand for all. He was a man + to do good, for everybody saw that he thought for others before himself, + and sincerity and earnestness constitute, with the necessary degree of + talent, the grand secrets for making successful teachers in every + department. + </p> + <p> + Though a simple, unsophisticated, unsuspecting creature, John Cross was a + man of very excellent natural endowments. He chose for his text a passage + of the Scriptures which admitted of a direct practical application to the + concerns of the people, their daily wants, their pressing interests, + moral, human, and social. He was thus enabled to preach a discourse which + sent home many of his congregation much wiser than they came, if only in + reference to their homely duties of farmstead and family. John Cross was + none of those sorry and self-constituted representatives of our eternal + interests, who deluge us with a vain, worthless declamation, proving that + virtue is a very good thing, religion a very commendable virtue, and a + liberal contribution to the church-box at the close of the sermon one of + the most decided proofs that we have this virtue in perfection. Nay, it is + somewhat doubtful, indeed, if he ever once alluded to the state of his own + scrip and the treasury of the church. His faith, sincere, spontaneous, + ardent, left him in very little doubt that the Lord will provide, for is + he not called “Jehovah-Jireh?”—and his faith was strengthened and + confirmed by the experience of his whole life. But then John Cross had few + wants—few, almost none! In this respect he resembled the first + apostles. The necessities of life once cared for, never was mortal man + more thoroughly independent of the world. He was not one of those fine + preachers who, dealing out counsels of self-denial, in grave saws and + solemn maxims, with wondrous grim visage and a most slow, lugubrious + shaking of the head—are yet always religiously careful to secure the + warmest seat by the fireside, and the best buttered bun on table. He + taught no doctrine which he did not practise; and as for consideration—that + test at once of the religionist and the gentleman—he was as humbly + solicitous of the claims and feelings of others, as the lovely and lowly + child to whom reverence has been well taught as the true beginning, + equally of politeness and religion. + </p> + <p> + Before going into church he urged his protege, Stevens, to consent to + share in the ceremonies of the service as a layman; but there was still + some saving virtue in the young man, which made him resolute in refusing + to do so. Perhaps, his refusal was dictated by a policy like that which + had governed him so far already; which made him reluctant to commit + himself to a degree which might increase very much the hazards of + detection. He feared, indeed, the restraints which the unequivocal + adoption of the profession would impose upon him, fettering somewhat the + freedom of his intercourse with the young of both sexes, and, + consequently, opposing an almost insurmountable barrier to the prevailing + object which had brought him to the village. Whatever may have been the + feelings or motives which governed him, they, at least, saved him from an + act which would have grievously aggravated his already large offence + against truth and propriety. He declined, in language of the old + hypocrisy. He did not feel justified in taking up the cross—he felt + that he was not yet worthy; and, among the members of a church, which + takes largely into account the momentary impulses and impressions of the + professor, the plea was considered a sufficiently legitimate one. + </p> + <p> + But though Stevens forbore to commit himself openly in the cause which he + professed a desire to espouse, he was yet sufficiently heedful to maintain + all those externals of devotion which a serious believer would be apt to + exhibit. He could be a good actor of a part, and in this lay his best + talent. He had that saving wisdom of the worldling, which is too often + estimated beyond its worth, called cunning; and the frequent successes of + which produces that worst of all the diseases that ever impaired the value + of true greatness—conceit. Alfred Stevens fancied that he could do + everything, and this fancy produced in him the appearance of a courage + which his moral nature never possessed. He had the audacity which results + from presumption, not the wholesome strength which comes from the + conscious possession of a right purpose. But a truce to our metaphysics. + </p> + <p> + Never did saint wear the aspect of such supernatural devotion. He knelt + with the first, groaned audibly at intervals, and when his face became + visible, his eyes were strained in upward glances, so that the spectator + could behold little more in their orbs than a sea of white. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a blessed young man!” said Mrs. Quackenbosh. + </p> + <p> + “How I wish it was he that was to preach for us to-day,” responded that + gem from the antique, Miss Polly Entwistle, who had joined every church in + Kentucky in turn, without having been made a spouse in either. + </p> + <p> + “How handsome he is!” simpered Miss Julia Evergreen—a damsel of + seventeen, upon whom the bilious eyes of Miss Entwistle were cast with + such an expression as the devil is said to put on when suddenly soused in + holy water. + </p> + <p> + “Handsome is that handsome does!” was the commentary of a venerable + cormorant to whom Brother Cross had always appeared the special and + accepted agent of heaven. + </p> + <p> + “I wish Brother Cross would get him to pray only. I wonder if he believes + in the new-light doctrine?” purred one of the ancient tabbies of the + conventicle. + </p> + <p> + “The new light is but the old darkness, Sister Widgeon,” responded an old + farmer of sixty four, who had divided his time so equally between the + plough and the prayer-book, that his body had grown as crooked as the one, + while his mind was bewildered with as many doctrines as ever worried all + sense out of the other. + </p> + <p> + We shall not suffer these to divert us, any more than Stevens permitted + their speculations upon his person and religion to affect his devotion. He + looked neither to the right nor to the left while entering the church, or + engaging in the ceremonies. No errant glances were permitted to betray to + the audience a mind wandering from the obvious duties before it; and yet + Alfred Stevens knew just as well that every eye in the congregation was + fixed upon him, as that he was himself there; and among those eyes, his + own keen glance had already discovered those of that one for whom all + these labors of hypocrisy were undertaken. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper sat on the opposite side of the church, but the line of + vision was uninterrupted between them, and when—though very + unfrequently—Stevens suffered his gaze to rest upon her form, it was + with a sudden look of pleased abstraction, as if, in spite of himself, his + mind was irresistibly drawn away from all recollection, of its immediate + duties. + </p> + <p> + If a word is sufficient for the wise, a look answers an equal purpose with + the vain. Margaret Cooper left the church that morning with a pleased + conviction that the handsome stranger had already paid his devotion to her + charms. There was yet another passion to be gratified. The restless + ambition of her foolish heart whispered to her momently, that if her + person had done so much, what might she not hope to achieve when the + treasures of her mind were known. She had long since made the comparison + of her own intellect with that of every other maiden in the village, and + she flattered herself that before many days, the young stranger should + make it too. Her vain heart was rapidly preparing to smooth the path of + the enemy and make his conquests easy. + </p> + <p> + But it was not the women only, by whom the deportment of Alfred Stevens + was so closely watched. The eyes of suspicion and jealousy were upon him. + The two young men whose interview formed the conclusion of our last + chapter, scanned his conduct and carriage with sufficient keenness of + scrutiny. + </p> + <p> + “I'll tell you what, Bill Hinkley,” said his cousin, “this fellow, to my + thinking, is a very great rascal.” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you think so?” demanded the former, with slow, dissatisfied + accents; “he seems to pray very earnestly.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the very reason I think him a rascal. His praying seems to me very + unnatural. Here, he's a perfect stranger in the place, yet he never shows + any curiosity to see the people. He never once looks around him. He walks + to the church with his eye cast upon the ground, and sometimes he squints + to this side and sometimes to that, but he seems to do it slyly, and seems + to take pains that nobody should see him doing, it. All this might answer + for an old man, who—believes that everything is vanity—as, + indeed, everything must seem to old people; but to a young fellow, full of + blood, who eats well, drinks well, sleeps well, and should naturally have + a hankering after a young girl, all this is against nature. Now, what's + against nature is wrong, and there's wrong at the bottom of it. Youth is + the time to laugh, dance, sing, play on the violin, and always have a + sweetheart when it can find one. If you can't get a beauty take a brown; + and if Mary won't smile, Susan will. But always have a sweetheart; always + be ready for fun and frolic; that's the way for the young, and when they + don't take these ways, it's unnatural—there's something wrong about + it, and I'm suspicious of THAT person. Now, I just have this notion of the + young stranger. He's after no good. I reckon he's like a hundred others; + too lazy to go to work, he goes to preaching, and learns in the first + sermon to beg hard for the missionaries. I'll lick him, Bill, to a + certainty, if he gives me the littlest end of an opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, Ned, don't think of such a thing. You are quite too fond of + licking people.” + </p> + <p> + “Deuse a bit. It does 'em good. Look you, this chap is monstrous like Joe + Richards. I'll have to lick him on that account.” + </p> + <p> + “You're mad, Ned; talk of whipping a preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “He's no preacher yet,” said the other, “but if I lick him he may become + one.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter, he's never offended you.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but he will. I see it in the fellow's looks. I never was mistaken in + a fellow's looks in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait till he does offend you then.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm willing to do that, for I know the time will come. I'm always + sure, when I first see a man, to know whether I'll have to flog him or + not. There's a something that tells me so. Isn't that very singular, + Bill?” + </p> + <p> + “No! you form a prejudice against a man, fancy that you ought to whip him, + and then never rest till you've done so. You'll find your match some day.” + </p> + <p> + “What! you think some other chap will fancy he ought to whip me? Well—maybe + so. But this ain't the fellow to do that.” + </p> + <p> + “He's a stout man, and I reckon strong. Besides, Ned, he's very handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “Handsome! Lord, Bill, what a taste you have? How can a man be called + handsome that never altogether opens his eyes, except when he turns up the + whites until you'd think he'd never be able to get the balls back to their + proper place? Then, what a chin he has—as sharp as a pitchfork, and + who but a girl child would fancy a man with his hair combed sleek like a + woman's on each side of his ears, with big whiskers at the same time that + looks for all the world like the brush of a seven years running fox, + Handsome! If my pup 'Dragon' was only half so much like a beast, I'd plump + him into the horsepond!” + </p> + <p> + It is probable that Ned Hinkley did not altogether think of the stranger + as he expressed himself. But he saw how deep a hold his appearance had + taken, in an adverse way, upon the mind and feelings of his relative and + friend, and his rude, but well-meant endeavors were intended to console + his companion, after his own fashion, by the exhibition of a certain + degree of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + His efforts, however well intended, did not produce any serious effect. + William Hinkley, though he forbore the subject, and every expression which + might indicate either soreness or apprehension, was still the victim of + that presentiment which had touched him on the very first appearance of + the stranger. He felt more than ever apprehensive on the score of his + misplaced affections. While his cousin had been watching the stranger, HIS + eyes had been fixed upon those of Margaret Cooper, and his fears were + increased and strengthened, as he perceived that she was quite too much + absorbed in other thoughts and objects to behold for an instant the close + espionage which he maintained upon her person. His heart sunk within him, + as he beheld how bold was her look, and how undisguised the admiration + which it expressed for the handsome stranger. + </p> + <p> + “You will go home with me, William?” said the cousin, The other hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he, after a moment's pause, “I should rather go to my own + home. It is a sort of weakness to let a stranger drive a man off from his + own family, and though I somehow dislike this person's looks, and am very + sorry that John Cross brought him to our house, yet I shouldn't let a + prejudice which seems to have no good foundation take such possession of + my mind. I will go home, Ned, and see—perhaps I may come to like the + stranger more when I know him better.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll never like him. I see it in the fellow's eye; but just as you + please about going nome. You're right in one thing—never to give up + your own dunghill, so long as you can get room on it for a fair fling with + your enemy. Besides, you can see better, by going home, what the chap's + after. I don't see why he should come here to learn to preach. We can't + support a preacher. We don't want one. He could just as well have learned + his business, where he came from.” + </p> + <p> + With these words the cousins separated. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Ned Hinkley as he took his own way homeward, in a deeper fit + of abstraction than was altogether usual with him, “now will Bill Hinkley + beat about the bush without bouncing through it, until it's too late to do + anything. He's mealy-mouthed with the woman, and mealy-mouthed with the + man, and mealy-mouthed with everybody.—quite too soft-hearted and + too easy to get on. Here's a stranger nobody knows, just like some crow + from another corn-field, that'll pick up his provisions from under his + very nose, and he doing nothing to hinder until there's no use in trying. + If I don't push in and help him, he'll not help himself. As for Margaret + Cooper, dang it, I'll court her for him myself. If he's afraid to pop the + question, I ain't; though I'll have to be mighty careful about the words I + use, or she'll be thinking I come on my own hook; and that would be a + mighty scary sort of business all round the house. Then this stranger. If + anybody can look through a stranger here in Charlemont, I reckon I'm that + man. I suspect him already. I think he's after no good with his great + religioning; and I'll tie such a pair of eyes to his heels, that his + understanding will never be entirely out of my sight. I'll find him out if + anybody can. But I won't lick him till I do. That wouldn't be altogether + right, considering he's to be a parson, though I doubt he'll never make + one.” + </p> + <p> + And thus, with a head filled with cares of a fashion altogether new, the + sturdy young Kentuckian moved homeward with a degree of abstraction in his + countenance which was not among the smallest wonders of the day and place + in the estimation of his friends and neighbors. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the work of mischief was in full progress. Everybody knows the + degree of familiarity which exists among all classes in a country-village, + particularly when the parties are brought together under the social and + stimulating influences of religion. It was natural that the pastor, long + known and well beloved, should be surrounded by his flock as he descended + from the pulpit. The old ladies always have a saving interest in his + presence, and they pave the way for the young ones. Alfred Stevens, as the + protege of John Cross, naturally attended his footsteps, and was + introduced by him to the little congregation, which had mostly remained to + do honor to the preacher. Of these, not last, nor least, was the widow + Cooper; and, unreluctant by her side, though in silence, and not without a + degree of emotion, which she yet was able to conceal, stood her fair but + proud-hearted daughter. + </p> + <p> + Margaret, alas! Margaret stood there with a heart more proud, yet more + humble, than ever. Proud in the consciousness of a new conquest—humble + in the feeling that this conquest had not been made, but at the expense of + some portion of her own independence. Hitherto, her suitors had awakened + no other feeling in her heart but vanity. Now, she felt no longer able to + sail on, “imperial arbitress,” smiling at woes which she could inflict, + but never share. That instinct, which, in the heart of young Hinkley had + produced fear, if not antipathy, had been as active in her case, though + with a very different result. The first glimpse which she had of the + handsome stranger, months before, had impressed her with a singular + emotion; and now that he was returned, she could not divest herself of the + thought that his return was a consequence of that one glimpse. + </p> + <p> + With a keener judgment than belonged to her neighbors, she too had some + suspicions that religion was scarcely the prevailing motive which had + brought the youth back to their little village; for how could she + reconcile with his present demure gravity and devout profession, the + daring which he had shown in riding back to behold her a second time? That + such had been his motive she divined by her own feeling of curiosity, and + the instincts of vanity were prompt enough to believe that this was motive + sufficient to bring him back once more, and under the guise of a + character, which would the readiest secure an easy entrance to society. + Pleased with the fancy that she herself was the object sought, she did not + perceive how enormous was the sort of deception which the stranger had + employed to attain the end desired. With all her intellect she had not the + wisdom to suspect that he who could so readily practise so bold an + hypocrisy, was capable of the worst performances; and when their names + were mentioned, and his eyes were permitted to meet and mingle their + glances with hers, she was conscious of nothing farther than a fluttering + sentiment of pleasure, which was amply declared to the stranger, in the + flash of animation which spoke openly in her countenance; eye speaking to + lip and cheek, and these, in turn, responding with a kindred sentiment to + the already tell-tale eye. + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley, from a little distance, beheld this meeting. He had + lingered with the curiosity which belongs to the natural apprehension of + the lover. He saw them approach—nay, fancied he beheld the mutual + expression of their sympathizing eyes, and he turned away, and hurried + homeward, with the feeling of a heart already overborne, and defrauded in + all its hopes and expectations. The flowers were threatened with blight in + his Eden: but he did not conjecture, poor fellow, that a serpent had + indeed entered it! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. — THE GOOD YOUNG MAN IN MEDITATION. + </h2> + <p> + Perhaps, it may be assumed, with tolerable safety, that no first villany + is ever entirely deliberate. There is something in events to give it + direction—something to egg it on—to point out time, place, and + opportunity. Of course, it is to be understood that the actor is one, in + the first place, wanting in the moral sense. What we simply mean to affirm + is, that the particular, single act, is, in few instances, deliberately + meditated from the beginning. We very much incline to think that some one + event, which we ordinarily refer to the chapter of accidents, has first + set the mind to work upon schemes, which would otherwise, perhaps, never + be thought of at all. Thus, we find persons who continue very good people, + as the world goes, until middle age, or even seniority; then, suddenly + breaking out into some enormous offence against decency and society, which + startles the whole pious neighborhood. Folks start up, with outstretched + hands and staring eyes, and cry aloud:— + </p> + <p> + “Lord bless us, who would have thought so good a man could be so bad!” + </p> + <p> + He, poor devil, never fancied it himself, till he became so, and it was + quite too late to alter his arrangements. Perhaps his neighbors may have + had some share in making him so. Pious persons are very frequently reduced + to these straits by having the temptation forced too much upon them. Flesh + and blood can not always withstand the provocation of earthly delicacies, + even where the spirit is a tolerably stout one; and of the inadequacy of + the mind, always to contend with the inclinations of the flesh, have we + not a caution in that injunction of Holy Book which warns us to fly from + temptation? But lame people can not fly, and he is most certainly lame who + halts upon mere feet of circumstances. Such people are always in danger. + </p> + <p> + Now, Alfred Stevens, properly brought up, from the beginning, at some + theological seminary, would have been—though in moral respects + pretty much the same person—yet in the eye of the world a far less + criminal man. Not that his desires would have been a jot more innocent, + but they would have taken a different direction. Instead of the + recklessness of course, such as seems to have distinguished the conduct of + our present subject—instead of his loose indulgences—his + smart, licentious speeches—the sheep's-eye glances, right and left, + which he was but too prone to bestow, without prudence or precaution, + whenever he walked among the fair sisters—he, the said Alfred, would + have taken counsel of a more worldly policy, which is yet popularly + considered a more pious one. He would have kept his eyes from wandering to + and fro; he would have held his blood in subjection. Patient as a fox on a + long scent in autumn, he would have kept himself lean and circumspect, + until, through the help of lugubrious prayer and lantern visage, he could + have beguiled into matrimony some one feminine member of the flock—not + always fair—whose worldly goods would have sufficed in full + atonement for all those circumspect, self-imposed restraints, which we + find usually so well rewarded. But Alfred Stevens was not a man of this + pious temper. It is evident, from his present course, that he had some + inkling of the MODUS OPERANDI; but all his knowledge fell short of that + saving wisdom which would have defrauded the social world of one of its + moral earthquakes, and possibly deprived the survivors of the present + moral story—for moral it is, though our hero is not exactly so. + </p> + <p> + It would be doing our subject and our theory equal injustice if we were to + suppose that he had any fixed purpose, known to himself, when he borrowed + the professional garment, and began to talk with the worthy John Cross in + the language of theology, and with the tongue of a hypocrite. He designed + to visit Charlemont—that was all—as he had really been + impressed by the commanding figure and noble expression of beauty of that + young damsel whom he had encountered by the roadside. Even this + impression, however, would have been suffered to escape from his mind, had + it not been so perfectly convenient to revisit the spot, on his return to + his usual place of residence. During the summer, Charlemont and its rustic + attractions had been the frequent subject of a conversation, running into + discussion, between himself and the amiable old man, his uncle. The latter + repeatedly urged upon his nephew to make the visit; fondly conceiving that + a nearer acquaintance with the pleasant spot which had so won upon his own + affections, would be productive of a like effect upon his nephew. Alas, + how little did he know the mischief he was doing! + </p> + <p> + In the very idleness of mood—with just that degree of curiosity + which prompts one to turn about and look a second time—Alfred + Stevens resumed the route which included Charlemont. But the devil had, by + this time, found his way into the meditations of the youth, and lay + lurking, unknown to himself, perhaps, at the bottom of this same + curiosity. The look of pride and defiance which Margaret Cooper had + betrayed, when the bold youth rode back to steal a second glance at her + matchless person, was equivalent to an equally bold challenge; and his + vanity hastily picked up the gauntlet which hers had thrown down. He + wished to see the damsel again—to see if she WAS so beautiful—if + she did, indeed, possess that intellectual strength and vivacity which + flashed out so suddenly and with so much splendor from beneath her long, + dark eye-lashes! + </p> + <p> + In this mood he met with John Cross; and the simplicity of that worthy + creature offered another challenge, not less provoking than the former, to + the levity and love of mischief which also actively predominated in the + bosom of the youth. Fond of a malicious sort of fun, and ever on the + look-out for subjects of quizzing, it was in compliance with a purely + habitual movement of his mind that he conjured up that false, glozing + story of his religious inclinations, which had so easily imposed upon the + unsuspecting preacher. Never was proceeding less premeditated, or so + completely the result of an after-thought, than this; and now that it had + proved so perfectly successful—now that he found himself admitted + into the very heart of the little village, and into the bosoms of the + people—he began, for the first time, to feel the awkwardness of the + situation in which he had placed himself, and the responsibilities, if not + dangers, to which it subjected him. To play the part of a mere preacher—to + talk glibly, and with proper unction, in the stereotype phraseology of the + profession—was no difficult matter to a clever young lawyer of the + West, having a due share of the gift of gab, and almost as profoundly + familiar with scripture quotation as Henry Clay himself. But there was + something awkward in the idea of detection, and he was not unaware of + those summary dangers which are likely to follow, in those wild frontier + regions, from the discovery of so doubtful a personage as “Bro' Wolf” in + the clothing of a more innocent animal. Chief-Justice Lynch is a sacred + authority in those parts; and, in such a case as his, Alfred Stevens did + not doubt that the church itself would feel it only becoming to provide + another sort of garment for the offender, which, whether pleasant or not, + would at least be likely to stick more closely, and prove less comfortably + warm. + </p> + <p> + But, once in, there was no help but to play out the game as it had been + begun. Villagers are seldom very sagacious people, and elegant strangers + are quite too much esteemed among them to make them very particular in + knowing the whys and wherefores about them—whence they come, what + they do, and whither they propose to go. Stevens had only to preserve his + countenance and a due degree of caution, and the rest was easy. He had no + reason to suppose himself an object of suspicion to anybody; and should he + become so, nothing was more easy than to take his departure with + sufficient promptness, and without unnecessarily soliciting the prayers of + the church in behalf of the hurried traveller! At all events, he could + lose nothing by the visit: perhaps something might be gained. + </p> + <p> + What was that something? Behold him in his chamber, preparing to ask and + to answer this question for himself. The sabbath-day is finally over. He + has been almost the lion of the day. We say almost, for the worthy John + Cross could not easily be deprived, by any rivalry, of the loyal regards + of his old parishioners. But, though the latter had most friends, the + stranger, Alfred Stevens, had had most followers. All were anxious to know + him—the young, in particular, maidens and men; and the grave old + dames would have given their last remaining teeth, bone or waxen, to have + heard him discourse. There was so much sense and solemnity in his + profound, devout looks! he has been made known to them all; he has shaken + hands with many. But he has exchanged the speech of sympathy and feeling + with but one only—and that one!— + </p> + <p> + Of her he thinks in his chamber—his quiet, snug, little chamber—a + mere closet, looking out upon a long garden-slip, in which he sees, + without much heeding them, long lanes of culinary cabbage, and tracts of + other growing and decaying vegetation, in which his interest is quite too + small to make it needful that he should even ask its separate names. His + chin rests upon his hands with an air of meditation; and gradually his + thoughts rise up in soliloquy, which is suffered to invade no ear but + ours:— + </p> + <p> + “Well! who'd have thought it? a parson!—devilish good indeed! How it + will tell at Murkey's! What a metamorphose! if it don't stagger 'em, + nothing will! It's the best thing I've done yet! I shall have to do it + over a hundred times, and must get up a sermon or two beforehand, and + swear that I preached them—and, egad! I may have to do it yet before + I'm done—ha! ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + The laughter was a quiet chuckle, not to be heard by vulgar ears; it + subsided in the gorges of his throat. The idea of really getting up a + sermon tickled him. He muttered over texts, all that he could remember; + and proceeded to turn over the phrases for an introduction, such as, + unctuous with good things in high degree, he fancied would be particularly + commendable to his unsuspecting hearers. Alfred Stevens had no small + talent for imitation, he derived a quiet sort of pleasure, on the present + occasion, from its indulgence. + </p> + <p> + “I should have made a famous parson, and, if all trades fail, may yet. + But, now that I am here, what's to come of it? It's not so hard to put on + a long face, and prose in scripture dialect; but, cui bono? Let me see—hem! + The girl is pretty, devilish pretty—with such an eye, and looks so! + There's soul in the wench—life—and a passion that speaks out + in every glance and movement. A very Cressid, with a cross of Corinne! + Should she be like her of Troy? At all events, it can do no harm to see + what she's made of! + </p> + <p> + “But I must manage warily. I have something to lose in the business. + Frankfort is but fifty miles from Charlemont—fifty miles—and + there's Ellisland, but fourteen. Fourteen!—an easy afternoon ride. + That way it must be done. Ellisland shall be my post-town. I can gallop + there in an afternoon, drop and receive my letters, and be back by a + round-about which shall effectually baffle inquiry. A week or two will be + enough. I shall see, by that time, what can be done with her; though + still, cautiously, Parson Stevens!—cautiously.” + </p> + <p> + The farther cogitations of Stevens were subordinate to these, but of the + same family complexion. They were such as to keep him wakeful. The Bible + which had been placed upon his table, by the considerate providence of his + hostess, lay there unopened; though, more than once, he lifted the cover + of the sacred volume, letting it fall again suddenly, as if with a + shrinking consciousness that such thoughts as at that moment filled his + mind were scarcely consistent with the employment, in any degree, of such + a companion. Finally, he undressed and went to bed. The hour had become + very late. + </p> + <p> + “Good young man,” muttered worthy Mrs. Hinkley to her drowsy spouse, in + the apartment below, as she heard the movements of her guest-“good young + man, he's just now going to bed. He's been studying all this while. I + reckon Brother Cross has been sound this hour.” + </p> + <p> + The light from Stevens's window glimmered out over the cabbage-garden, and + was seen by many an ancient dame as she prepared for her own slumbers. + </p> + <p> + “Good young man,” said they all with one accord. “I reckon he's at the + Bible now. Oh! he'll be a blessed laborer in the vineyard, I promise you, + when Brother Cross is taken.” + </p> + <p> + “If it were not for the cursed bore of keeping up the farce beyond the + possibility of keeping up the fun, such a rig as this would be + incomparably pleasant; but”—yawning—“that's the devil! I get + monstrous tired of a joke that needs dry nursing!” + </p> + <p> + Such were the last muttered words of Parson Stevens before he yielded + himself up to his slumbers. Good young man—charitable old ladies—gullible + enough, if not charitable! But the professions need such people, and we + must not quarrel with them! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. — PAROCHIAL PERFORMANCES. + </h2> + <p> + The poor, conceited blackguards of this ungracious earth have a fancy that + there must be huge confusion and a mighty bobbery in nature, corresponding + with that which is for ever going on in their own little spheres. If we + have a toothache, we look for a change of weather; our rheumatism is a + sure sign that God has made his arrangements to give us a slapping rain; + and, should the white bull or the brown heifer die, look out for hail, or + thunderstorm, at least, as a forerunner of the event. Nothing less can + possibly console or satisfy us for such a most unaccountable, not to say + unnatural and unwarrantable, a dispensation. The poets have ministered + largely to this vanity on the part of mankind. Shakspere is constantly at + it, and Ben Jonson, and all the dramatists. Not a butcher, in the whole + long line of the butchering Caesars, from Augustus down, but, according to + them, died in a sort of gloom glory, resulting from the explosion of + innumerable stars and rockets, and the apparitions of as many comets! + “Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire,” invariably announce the coming + stroke of fate; and five or seven moons of a night have suddenly arisen to + warn some miserable sublunarian that orders had been issued that there + should be no moon for him that quarter, or, in military and more precise + phrase, that he should have no “quarters” during that moon. Even our + venerable and stern old puritan saint, Milton—he who was blessed + with the blindness of his earthly eye, that he should be more perfectly + enabled to contemplate the Deity within—has given way to this + superstition when he subjects universal nature to an earthquake because + Adam's wife followed the counsels of the snake. + </p> + <p> + A pretty condition of things it would be, if stars, suns, and systems, + were to shoot madly from their spheres on such occasions! Well might the + devil laugh if such were the case! How he would chuckle to behold globes + and seas, and empires, fall into such irreverend antics because some poor + earthling, be he kingling or common sodling, goes into desuetude, either + by the operation of natural laws, or the sharp application of steel or + shot! Verily, it makes precious little difference to the Great Reaper, by + what process we finally become harvested. He is sure of us, though no + graves gape, no stars fall, no comets rush out, like young colts from + their stables, flinging their tails into the faces of the more sober and + pacific brotherhood of lights. But, denied the satisfaction of chuckling + at such sights as these, his satanic majesty chuckles not the less at the + human vanity which looks for them. Nay, he himself is very likely to + suggest this vanity. It is one of his forms of temptation—one of his + manoeuvres; and we take leave, by way of warning, to hint to those worthy + people, who judge of to-morrow's providence by the corns of their great + toe, or their periodical lumbago, or the shooting of their warts, or the + pricking of their palms, that it is in truth the devil which is at the + bottom of all this, and that the Deity has nothing to do in the business. + It is the devil instilling his vanities into the human heart, in that form + which he thinks least likely to prove offensive, or rouse suspicion. The + devil is most active in your affairs, Mrs. Thompson, the moment you + imagine that there must be a revolution on your account in the universal + laws of nature. At such a moment your best policy will be to have blood + let, take physic, and go with all diligence to your prayers. + </p> + <p> + There was no sort of warning on the part of the natural to the moral + world, on the day when Alfred Stevens set forth with the worthy John + Cross, to visit the flock of the latter. There was not a lovelier morning + in the whole calendar. The sun was alone in heaven, without a cloud; and + on earth, the people in and about Charlemont, having been to church only + the day before, necessarily made their appearance everywhere with + petticoats and pantaloons tolerably clean and unrumpled. Cabbages had not + yet been frost-bitten. Autumn had dressed up her children in the garments + of beauty, preparatory to their funeral. There was a good crop of grain + that year, and hogs were brisk, and cattle lively, and all “looking-up,” + in the language of the prices current. This was long before the time when + Mr. M—— made his famous gammon speeches; but the people had a + presentiment of what was coming, and to crown the eventful anticipations + of the season, there was quite a freshet in Salt river. The signs were all + and everywhere favorable. Speculation was beginning to chink his + money-bags; three hundred new banks, as many railways, were about to be + established; old things were about to fleet and disappear; all things were + becoming new; and the serpent entered Charlemont, and made his way among + the people thereof, without any signs of combustion, or overthrow, or + earthquake. + </p> + <p> + Everybody has some tolerable idea of what the visitation of a parson is, + to the members of his flock. In the big cities he comes one day, and the + quarterly collector the next. He sits down with the “gude wife” in a + corner to themselves, and he speaks to her in precisely the same low tones + which cunning lovers are apt to use. If he knows any one art better than + another, it is that of finding his way to the affections of the female + part of his flock. A subdued tone of voice betrays a certain deference for + the party addressed. The lady is pleased with such a preliminary. She is + flattered again by the pains he takes in behalf of her eternal interests; + she is pretty sure he takes no such pains with any of her neighbors. It is + a sign that he thinks her soul the most becoming little soul in the flock, + and when he goes away, she looks after him and sighs, and thinks him the + most blessed soul of a parson. The next week she is the first to get up a + subscription which she heads with her own name in connection with a sum + realized by stinting her son of his gingerbread money, in order to make + this excellent parson a life-member of the “Zion African Bible and + Missionary Society, for disseminating the Word among the Heathen.” The + same fifty dollars so appropriated, would have provided fuel for a month + to the starving poor of her own parish. + </p> + <p> + But Brother Cross gets no such windfalls. It is probable that he never + heard of such a thing, and that if he did, he would unhesitatingly cry + out, “Humbug,” at the first intimation of it. Besides, his voice was not + capable of that modulation which a young lover, or a city parson can give + it. Accustomed to cry aloud and spare not, he usually spoke as if there + were some marrow in his bones, and some vigor in his wind-bags. When he + came to see the good wife of his congregation, he gave her a hearty shake + of the hand, congratulated her as he found her at her spinning-wheel; + spoke with a hearty approbation, if he saw that her children were civil + and cleanly; if otherwise, he blazed out with proper boldness, by telling + her that all her praying and groaning, would avail nothing for her soul's + safety, so long as Jackey's breeches were unclean; and that the mother of + a rude and dirty child, was as sure of damnation, as if she never prayed + at all. He had no scruples about speaking the truth. He never looked about + him for the gentle, easy phrases, by which to distinguish the conduct + which he was compelled to condemn. He knew not only that the truth must be + spoken, and be spoken by him, if by anybody, but that there is no language + too strong—perhaps none quite strong enough—for the utterance + of the truth. But it must not be supposed, that John Cross was in any + respect an intolerant, or sour man. He was no hypocrite, and did not, + therefore, need to clothe his features in the vinegar costume of that + numerous class. His limbs were put into no such rigid fetters as too often + denote the unnatural restraints which such persons have imposed upon their + inner minds. He could laugh and sing with the merriest, and though he did + not absolutely shake a leg himself, yet none rejoiced more than he, when + Ned Hinkley's fiddle summoned the village to this primitive exercise. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Alfred Stevens,” said he, the breakfast being over, “what say'st + thou to a visit with me among my people. Some of them know thee already; + they will all be rejoiced to see thee. I will show thee how they live, and + if thou shouldst continue to feel within thee, the growing of that good + seed whose quickening thou hast declared to me, it will be well that thou + shouldst begin early to practise the calling which may so shortly become + thine own. Here mightest thou live a space, toiling in thy spiritual + studies, until the brethren should deem thee ripe for thy office; + meanwhile, thy knowledge of the people with whom thou livest, and their + knowledge of thee, would be matter of equal comfort and consolation, I + trust, to thee as to them.” + </p> + <p> + Alfred Stevens expressed himself pleased with the arrangement. Indeed, he + desired nothing else. + </p> + <p> + “But shall we see all of them?” he demanded. The arch-hypocrite began to + fear that his curiosity would be compelled to pay a heavy penalty to + dullness. + </p> + <p> + “The flock is small,” said John Cross. “A day will suffice, but I shall + remain three days in Charlemont, and some I will see to-day, and some + to-morrow, and some on the day after, which is Wednesday.” + </p> + <p> + “Taken in moderate doses,” murmured Stevens to himself, “one may stand + it.” + </p> + <p> + He declared himself in readiness, and the twain set forth. The outward + behavior of Stevens was very exemplary. He had that morning contrived to + alter his costume in some respects to suit the situation of affairs. For + example, he had adopted that slavish affectation which seems to insist + that a preacher of God should always wear a white cravat, so constructed + and worn as to hide the tips of his shirt collar. If they wore none, they + would look infinitely more noble, and we may add, never suffer from + bronchitis. In his deportment, Stevens was quite as sanctified as heart + could wish. He spoke always deliberately, and with great unction. If he + had to say “cheese and mousetrap,” he would look very solemn, shake his + head with great gravity and slowness, and then deliberately and equally + emphasizing every syllable, would roll forth the enormous sentence with + all the conscious dignity of an ancient oracle. That “cheese and + mousetrap,” so spoken, acquired in the ears of the hearer, a degree of + importance and signification, which it confounded them to think they had + never perceived before in the same felicitous collocation of syllables. + John Cross was not without his vanities. Who is? Vanity is quite as + natural as any other of our endowments. It is a guaranty for amiability. A + vain man is always a conciliatory one. He is kind to others, because the + approbation of others is a strong desire in his mind. Accordingly, even + vanity is not wholly evil. It has its uses. + </p> + <p> + John Cross had his share, and Alfred Stevens soon discovered that he + ministered to it in no small degree. The good old preacher took to himself + the credit of having effected his conversion, so far as it had gone. It + was his hand that had plucked the brand from the burning. He spoke freely + of his protege, as well before his face as behind his back. In his + presence he dwelt upon the holy importance of his calling; to others he + dilated upon the importance of securing for the church a young man of so + much talent, yet of so much devotion: qualities not always united, it + would seem, among the churchlings of modern times. + </p> + <p> + Alfred Stevens seemed to promise great honor to his teacher. That cunning + which is the wisdom of the worldling, and which he possessed in a very + surprising degree, enabled him to adopt a course of conduct, look, and + remark, which amply satisfied the exactions of the scrupulous, and secured + the unhesitating confidence of those who were of a more yielding nature. + He soon caught the phraseology of his companion, and avoiding his + intensity, was less likely to offend his hearers. His manner was better + subdued to the social tone of ordinary life, his voice lacked the sharp + twang of the backwoods man; and, unlike John Cross, he was able to + modulate it to those undertones, which, as we have before intimated, are + so agreeable from the lips of young lovers and fashionable preachers. At + all events, John Cross himself, was something more than satisfied with his + pupil, and took considerable pains to show him off. He was a sort of + living and speaking monument of the good man's religious prowess. + </p> + <p> + It does not need that we should follow the two into all the abodes which + they were compelled to visit. The reader would scarcely conceal his yawns + though Stevens did. Enough, that a very unctuous business was made of it + that morning. Many an old lady was refreshed with the spiritual beverage + bestowed in sufficient quantity to last for another quarter; while many a + young one rejoiced in the countenance of so promising a shepherd as + appeared under the name of Alfred Stevens. But the latter thought of the + one damsel only. He said many pleasant things to those whom he did see; + but his mind ran only upon one. He began to apprehend that she might be + among the flock who were destined to wait for the second or last day's + visitation; when, to his great relief, John Cross called his attention to + the dwelling of the widow Cooper, to whom they were fast approaching. + </p> + <p> + Stevens remarked that the dwelling had very much the appearance of poverty—he + did not fail to perceive that it lacked the flower-garden in front which + distinguished the greater number of the cottages in Charlemont; and there + was an appearance of coldness and loneliness about its externals which + impressed itself very strongly upon his thoughts, and seemed to speak + unfavorably for the taste of the inmates. One is apt to associate the love + of flowers with sweetness and gentleness of disposition, and such a + passion would seem as natural, as it certainly would be becoming, to a + young lady of taste and sensibility. But the sign is a very doubtful one. + Taste and gentleness may satisfy themselves with other objects. A passion + for books is very apt to exclude a very active passion for flowers, and it + will be found, I suspect, that these persons who are most remarkable for + the cultivation of flowers are least sensible to the charms of letters. It + seems monstrous, indeed, that a human being should expend hours and days + in the nursing and tendance of such stupid beauties as plants and flowers, + when earth is filled with so many lovelier objects that come to us + commended by the superior sympathies which belong to humanity. Our cities + are filled with the sweetest orphans—flowers destined to be + immortal; angels in form, that might be angels in spirit—that must + be, whether for good or evil—whom we never cultivate—whom we + suffer to escape our tendance, and leave to the most pitiable ignorance, + and the most wretched emergencies of want. The life that is wasted upon + dahlias, must, prima facie, be the life of one heartless and insensible, + and most probably, brutish in a high degree. + </p> + <p> + But Alfred Stevens had very little time for further reflection. They were + at the door of the cottage. Never did the widow Cooper receive her parson + in more tidy trim, and with an expression of less qualified delight. She + brought forth the best chair, brushed the deerskin-seat with her apron, + and having adjusted the old man to her own satisfaction as well as his, + she prepared to do a like office for the young one. Having seated them + fairly, and smoothed her apron, and gone through the usual preliminaries, + and placed herself a little aloof, on a third seat, and rubbed her hands, + and struggled into a brief pause in her brisk action, she allowed her + tongue to do the office for which her whole soul was impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Brother Cross, what a searching sermon you gave us yesterday. You + stirred the hearts of everybody, I warrant you, as you stirred up mine. + We've been a needing it for a precious long time, I tell you; and there's + no knowing what more's a wanting to make us sensible to the evil that's in + us. I know from myself what it is, and I guess from the doings of others. + We're none of us perfect, that's certain; but it's no harm to say that + some's more and some's not so perfect as others. There's a difference in + sin, Brother Cross, I'm a thinking, and I'd like you to explain why, and + what's the difference. One won't have so much, and one will have more; one + will take a longer spell of preaching, and half the quantity will be a + dose to work another out clean, entire. I'm not boastful for myself, + Brother Cross, but I do say, I'd give up in despair if I thought it took + half so much to do me, as it would take for a person like that Mrs. + Thackeray.” + </p> + <p> + “Sister Cooper,” said brother Cross, rebukingly, “beware of the temptation + to vain-glory. Be not like the Pharisee, disdainful of the publican. To be + too well pleased with one's self is to be displeasing to the Lord.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Brother Cross, don't be thinking that I'm over and above satisfied + with the goodness that's in me. I know I'm not so good. I have a great + deal of evil; but then it seems to me there's a difference in good and a + difference in evil. One has most of one and one has most of another. None + of us have much good, and all of us have a great deal of sin. God help me, + for I need his help—I have my own share; but as for that Mrs. + Thackeray, she's as full of wickedness as an an egg's full of meat.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not the part of Christianity, Sister Cooper,” said John Cross + mildly, “to look into our neighbors' accounts and make comparisons between + their doings and our own. We can only do so at great risk of making a + false reckoning. Besides, Sister Cooper, it is business enough on our + hands, if we see to our own short-comings. As for Mrs. Thackeray, I have + no doubt she's no better than the rest of us, and we are all, as you said + before, children of suffering, and prone to sin as certain as that the + sparks fly upward. We must only watch and pray without ceasing, + particularly that we may not deceive ourselves with the most dangerous sin + of being too sure of our own works. The good deeds that we boast of so + much in our earthly day will shrivel and shrink up at the last account to + so small a size that the best of us, through shame and confusion, will be + only too ready to call upon the rocks and hills to cover us. We are very + weak and foolish all, Sister Cooper. We can't believe ourselves too weak, + or too mean, or too sinful. To believe this with all our hearts, and to + try to be better with all our strength, is the true labor of religion. God + send it to us, in all its sweetness and perfection, so that we may fight + the good fight without ceasing.” + </p> + <p> + “But if you could only hear of the doings of Mrs. Thackeray, Brother + Cross, you'd see how needful it would be to put forth all your strength to + bring her back to the right path.” + </p> + <p> + “The Lord will know. None of us can hide our evil from the eyes of the + Lord. I will strive with our sister, when I seek her, which will be this + very noon, but it is of yourself, Sister Cooper, and your daughter + Margaret, that I would speak. Where is she that I see her not?” + </p> + <p> + This was the question that made our quasi hierophant look up with a far + greater degree of interest than he had felt in the long and random twattle + to which he had been compelled to listen. Where was she—that fair + daughter? He was impatient for the answer. But he was not long detained in + suspense. Next to her neighbors there was no subject of whom the mother so + loved to speak as the daughter, and the daughter's excellences. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! she is up-stairs, at her books, as usual. She does so love them + books, Brother Cross, I'm afraid it'll do harm to her health. She cares + for nothing half so well. Morning, noon, and night, all the same, you find + her poring over them; and even when she goes out to ramble, she must have + a book, and she wants no other company. For my part I can't see what she + finds in them to love so; for except to put a body to sleep I never could + see the use they were to any person yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Books are of two kinds,” said Brother Cross gravely. “They are useful or + hurtful. The useful kinds are good, the hurtful kinds are bad. The Holy + Bible is the first book, and the only book, as I reckon it will be the + book that'll live longest. The 'Life of Whitefield' is a good book, and I + can recommend the sermons of that good man, Brother Peter Cummins, that + preached when I was a lad, all along through the back parts of North + Carolina, into South Carolina and Georgia. I can't say that he came as far + back into the west as these parts; but he was a most faithful shepherd. + There was a book of his sermons printed for the benefit of his widow and + children. He died, like that blessed man, John Rogers, that we see in the + primer-books, leaving a wife with eleven children and one at the breast. + His sermons are very precious reading. One of them in particular, on the + Grace of God, is a very falling of manna in the wilderness. It freshens + the soul, and throws light upon the dark places in the wilderness. Ah! if + only such books are printed, what a precious world for poor souls it would + be. But they print a great many bad books now-a-days.” + </p> + <p> + The natural love of mischief which prevailed in the bosom of Alfred + Stevens now prompted him to take part in the conversation at this happy + moment. The opportunity was a tempting one. + </p> + <p> + “The printers,” said he, “are generally very bad men. They call themselves + devils, and take young lads and bring them up to their business under that + name!” + </p> + <p> + The old lady threw up her hands, and John Cross, to whom this intelligence + was wholly new, inquired with a sort of awe-struck gravity— + </p> + <p> + “Can this be true, Alfred Stevens? Is this possible?” + </p> + <p> + “The fact, sir. They go by no other name among themselves; and you may + suppose, if they are not ashamed of the name, they are not unwilling to + perform the doings of the devil. Indeed, they are busy doing his business + from morning to night—and night to morning. They don't stop for the + sabbath. They work on Sunday the same as any other day, and if they take + any rest at all it is on Saturday, which would show them to be a kind of + Jews.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord deliver us!” ejaculated the widow. + </p> + <p> + “Where, O! where?” exclaimed the Brother Cross with similar earnestness. + The game was too pleasant for Alfred Stevens. He pursued it. + </p> + <p> + “In such cities,” he continued, “as New York and Philadelphia, thousands + of these persons are kept in constant employ sending forth those books of + falsehood and folly which fill the hearts of the young with vain + imaginings, and mislead the footsteps of the unwary. In one of these + establishments, four persons preside, who are considered brothers; but + they are brothers in sin only, and are by some supposed to be no other. + They have called themselves after the names of saints and holy men; even + the names of the thrice blessed apostles, John and James, have been in + this fashion abused; but if it be true that the spirits of evil may even + in our day as of old embody themselves in mortal shape for the better + enthralling and destruction of mankind, then should I prefer to believe + that these persons were no other than the evil demons who ruled in Ashdod + and Assyria. Such is their perseverance in evil—such their busy + industry, which keeps a thousand authors (which is but another name for + priests and prophets) constantly at work to frame cunning falsehoods and + curious devices, and winning fancies, which when printed and made into + books, turn the heads of the young and unwary, and blind the soul to the + wrath which is to come.” + </p> + <p> + The uplifted hands of the widow Cooper still attested her wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Lord save us!” she exclaimed, “I should not think it strange if Sister + Thackeray had some of these very books. Do ask, Brother Cross, when you go + to see her. She speaks much of books, and I see her reading them whenever + I look in at the back window.” + </p> + <p> + John Cross did not seem to give any heed to the remark of the old woman. + There was a theological point involved in one of the remarks of Alfred + Stevens which he evidently regarded as of the first importance. + </p> + <p> + “What you say, Alfred Stevens, is very new and very strange to me, and I + should think from what I already know of the evil which is sometimes put + in printed books, that there was indeed a spirit of malice at work in this + way, to help the progress and the conquests of Satan among our blind and + feeble race. But I am not prepared to believe that God has left it to + Satan to devise so fearful a scheme for prosecuting his evil designs as + that of making the demons of Ashdod and Assyria take the names of mortal + men, while teeming to follow mortal occupations. It would be fearful + tidings for our poor race were this so. But if so, is it not seen that + there is a difference in the shapes of these persons. If either of these + brothers who blasphemously call themselves John and James, after the + manner of the apostles, shall be in very truth and certainty that Dagon of + the Philistines whom Jehovah smote before his altar, will he not be made + fishlike from the waist downward, and will this not be seen by his + followers and some of the thousands whom he daily perverts to his evil + purposes and so leads to eternal destruction?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be that it is permitted to such a demon to put on what shape he + thinks proper,” replied Stevens; “but even if it is not, yet this would + not be the subject of any difference—it would scarcely prevent the + prosecution of this evil purpose. You are to remember, Mr. Cross—” + </p> + <p> + “John Cross—plain John Cross, Alfred Stevens,” was the interruption + of the preacher. + </p> + <p> + “You are to remember,” Stevens resumed, “that when the heart is full of + sin, the eyes are full of blindness. The people who believe in these evil + beings are incapable of seeing their deformities.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true—a sad truth.” + </p> + <p> + “And, again,” continued Stevens, “there are devices of mere mortal art, by + which the deformities and defects of an individual may be concealed. One + of these brothers, I am told, is never to be seen except seated in one + position at the same desk, and this desk is so constructed, as to hide his + lower limbs in great part, while still enabling him to prosecute his + nefarious work.” + </p> + <p> + “It's clear enough, Brother Cross,” exclaimed the widow Cooper, now + thoroughly convinced—“it's clear enough that there's something that + he wants to hide. Lord help us! but these things are terrible.” + </p> + <p> + “To the weak and the wicked, Sister Cooper, they are, as you say, + terrible, and hence the need that we should have our lamps trimmed and + lighted, for the same light which brings us to the sight of the Holy of + Holies, shows us the shape of hatefuless, the black and crouching form of + Satan, with nothing to conceal his deformity. Brother Stevens has well + said that when the heart is full of sin, the eyes are full of blindness; + and so we may say that when the heart is full of godliness, the eyes are + full of seeing. You can not blind them with devilish arts. You can not + delude them as to the true forms of Satan, let him take any shape The eye + of godliness sees clean through the mask of sin, as the light of the sun + pierces the thickest cloud, and brings day after the darkest night.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a blessed thing to hear you say so.” + </p> + <p> + “More blessed to believe, Sister Cooper, and believing, to pray with all + your heart for this same eye of godliness. But we should not only pray but + work. Working for God is the best sort of prayer. We must do something in + his behalf: and this reminds me, Sister Cooper, that if there is so much + evil spread abroad in these books, we should look heedfully into the + character of such as fall into the hands of the young and the unmindful of + our flock.” + </p> + <p> + “That is very true; that is just what I was thinking of, Brother Cross. + You can not look too close, I'm thinking into such books as you'll find at + the house of Widow Thackeray. I can give a pretty 'cute guess where she + gets all that sort of talk, that seems so natural at the end of her + tongue.” + </p> + <p> + “Verily, I will speak with Sister Thackeray on this subject,” responded + the pastor—“but your own books, Sister Cooper, and those of your + daughter Margaret—if it is convenient, I should prefer to examine + them now while I am here.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Margaret's books! examine Margaret's books!” + </p> + <p> + “Even so, while I am present and while Brother Stevens is here, also, to + give me his helping counsel in the way of judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, bless us, Brother Cross, you don't suppose that my daughter Margaret + would keep any but the properest books? she's too sensible, I can tell + you, for that. She's no books but the best; none, I'll warrant you, like + them you'll find at Widow Thackeray's. She's not to be put off with bad + books. She goes through 'em with a glance of the eye. Ah! she's too smart + to be caught by the contrivances of those devils, though in place of four + brothers there was four thousand of 'em. No, no! let her alone for that—she's + a match for the best of 'em.” + </p> + <p> + “But as Brother Stevens said,” continued John Cross, “where sin gets into + the heart, the eye is blinded to the truth. Now—” + </p> + <p> + “Her eye's not blinded, Brother Cross, I can tell you. They can't cheat + her with their books. She has none but the very best. I'll answer for + them. None of them ever did me any harm; and I reckon none of them'll ever + hurt her. But I'm mistaken, if you don't have a real burning when you get + to Mrs. Thackeray's.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Sister Cooper—” commenced the preacher. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Brother Cross,” replied the dame. + </p> + <p> + “Books, as I said before, are of two kinds.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I know—good and bad—I only wonder there's no indifferent + ones among 'em,” replied the lady. + </p> + <p> + “They should be examined for the benefit of the young and ignorant.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, and for more besides, for Mrs. Thackeray's not young, that's + clear enough; and I know there's a good many things that she's not + ignorant of. She's precious knowing about many things that don't do her + much good; and if the books could unlearn her, I'd say for one let her + keep 'em. But as for looking at Margaret's books—why, Brother Cross, + you surely know Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + The preacher answered meekly, but negatively. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't she about the smartest girl you ever met with?” continued the + mother. + </p> + <p> + “God has certainly blessed her with many gifts,” was the reply, “but where + the trust is great, the responsibility is great also.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't she know it?” + </p> + <p> + “I trust she does, Sister Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “You may trust every bit of it. She's got the smartness, the same as it is + in books—” + </p> + <p> + “But the gift of talents, Sister Cooper, is a dangerous gift.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see, Brother Cross, how good things that come from God can be + dangerous things.” + </p> + <p> + “If I could see the books, Sister Cooper;—I say not that they are + evil—” + </p> + <p> + John Cross began in tones that denoted something like despair; certainly + dissatisfaction was in them, when Alfred Stevens, who had long since tired + of what was going on, heard a light footfall behind him. He turned his + eyes and beheld the fair maiden, herself, the propriety of whose reading + was under discussion, standing in the doorway. It appeared that she had + gathered from what had reached her ears, some knowledge of what was going + on, for a smile of ineffable scorn curled her classic and nobly-chiselled + mouth, while her brow was the index to a very haughty volume. In turning, + Alfred Stevens betrayed to her the playful smile upon his own lips—their + eyes met, and that single glance established a certain understanding + between them. + </p> + <p> + Her coming did not avail to stifle the subject of discussion. John Cross + was too resolute in the prosecution of his supposed duty, to give up the + cause he had once undertaken. He had all the inveteracy of the stout old + puritan. The usual introduction over and he resumed, though he now + addressed himself to the daughter rather than the mother. She scarcely + heard him to the end. + </p> + <p> + “The books were my father's, Mr. Cross; they are valuable to me on that + account. They are dear to me on their own. They are almost my only + companions, and though I believe you would find nothing in them which + might be held detrimental, yet I must confess, if there were, I should be + sorry to be made acquainted with the fact. I have not yet discovered it + myself, and should be loath to have it shown by another.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will let me see them, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, whenever you please. I can have no objection to that, but if by + seeing them you only desire an opportunity to say what I shall read and + what not, I can only tell you that your labor will be taken in vain. + Indeed, the evil is already done. I have not a volume which I have not + read repeatedly.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to add that Brother Cross was compelled to forego his book + examination at the widow Cooper's, though strongly recommended there to + press it at Widow Thackeray's. Alfred Stevens was a mute observer during + the interview, which did not last very long after the appearance of + Margaret. He was confirmed in all his previous impressions of her beauty, + nor did the brevity of the conference prevent him from perceiving her + intense self-esteem, which under certain influences of temperament is only + another name for vanity. Besides they had exchanged glances which were + volumes, rendering unnecessary much future explanation. She had seen that + he was secretly laughing at the simple preacher, and that was a source of + sympathy between them. She was very much in the habit of doing the same + thing. He, on the other hand, was very well satisfied that the daughter of + such a mother must be perverse and vain; and he was moralist enough to + know that there is no heart so accessible to the tempter as the proud and + wilful heart. But few words had passed between them, but those were + expressive, and they both parted, with the firm conviction that they must + necessarily meet again. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. — HOW THE TOAD GRINS UPON THE ALTAR. + </h2> + <p> + Shall we go the rounds with our pastor? Shall we look in upon him at Mrs. + Thackeray's, while, obeying the suggestion of the widow Cooper, he purges + her library of twenty volumes, casting out the devils and setting up the + true gods? It is scarcely necessary. Enough to know that, under his + expurgatorial finger, our beloved and bosom friend, William Shakspere, was + the first to suffer. Plays! The one word was enough. Some lying histories + were permitted to escape. The name of history saved them! Robinson Crusoe + was preserved as a true narrative; and Swift's Tale of a Tub escaped, as + it was assumed (there being no time to read any of the books, and in this + respect John Cross showed himself much more of a professional critic than + he conjectured) to be a treatise on one branch of the cooperage business, + and so, important to domestic mechanics in a new country. The reader will + remember the manner in which the library of the knight of La Mancha was + disposed of. He would err, however, if he supposed that John Cross + dismissed the books from the window, or did anything farther than simply + to open the eyes of Mrs. Thackeray to the bad quality of some of the + company she kept. That sagacious lady did not think it worth while to + dispute the ipse dixit of a teacher so single-minded, if not sagacious. + She bowed respectfully to all his suggestions, promised no longer to + bestow her smiles on the undeserving—a promise of no small + importance when it is remembered that, at thirty-three, Mrs. Thackeray was + for the first time a widow—and that night she might have been seen + laughing heartily with Mesdames Ford and Quickly at the amorous + pertinacity of the baffled knight of Eastcheap. + </p> + <p> + Under the paternal wing of John Cross, Alfred Stevens obtained the desired + entree into the bosom of the flock. He was everywhere admitted with + gladness—everywhere welcomed as to a home; and the unsophisticated + old teacher by whose agency this was effected, congratulated his + congregation and himself, on leaving the village, that he had left in it a + person so full of grace, and one who, with the blessing of God, was so + likely to bring about the birth of grace in others. The good old man + bestowed long and repeated counsels upon his neophyte. The course of study + which he prescribed was very simple. The Bible was the Alpha and the Omega—it + was the essential whole. It would be well to read other books if they + could be had—Clarke and Wesley were, of course, spoken of—but + they could be done without. The word of God was in the one volume, and it + needed no help from commentators to win its way and suffice the hungering + and thirsting soul. + </p> + <p> + “If you could lay hands upon the book of sermons written by Brother Peter + Cummins, which his wife had printed, I'm thinking it would serve, next to + God's own blessed word, to put you in the right way. It's been a great + helping to me, Alfred Stevens, that same book of sermons; and, I reckon + it's because it's so good a book that it's not printed now. I don't see it + much about. But I'll get you one if I can, and bring or send it to you, + soon enough to help you to the wisdom that you're a seeking after. If it + only wakes the spirit in you as it did in me—if it only stirs you up + with the spirit of divine love—you'll find it easy enough to + understand the teachings of the holy volume. All things become clear in + that blessed light. By its help you read, and by its working you inwardly + digest all the needful learning. The Lord be with you, Alfred Stevens, and + bring to perfect ripening your present undertaking.” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” was the solemn response of the hypocrite, but we need not say what + an irreverent and unholy thought lay at the bottom of his mind in making + this ejaculation. + </p> + <p> + Before the departure of John Cross, the latter had made terms with Squire + Hinkley for the board and lodging of Brother Stevens and his horse. + Hinkley would have preferred taking nothing, considering the praiseworthy + purpose of the supposed theological student; but Stevens shrunk from + receiving such an obligation with a feeling of pride, which yet had no + scruples at practising so wretched an imposture. He insisted upon making + compensation, or upon leaving the house; and, not to incur this risk, + Hinkley consented to receive a weekly sum in payment; but the charge was + considerably smaller, as we may suppose, than it would have been had the + lodger simply appeared as an inoffensive traveller, practising no fraud + and making no professions of religion. + </p> + <p> + Having effected all these arrangements, to his own satisfaction and + seemingly that of all others, John Cross departed once more into the + wilderness on his single-hearted ministry of love. A sturdy and an honest + worker was he in the tabernacle, with a right mind if not a very wise one; + and doing more good in his generation, and after the fashion of his + strength, than is often permitted to the stall-fed doctors of his + vocation. + </p> + <p> + The reader will suppose that the old man has been already gone some seven + days. Meanwhile, the young student has fairly made himself at home in + Charlemont. He has a snug room, entirely to himself, at Squire Hinkley's, + and, by the excellent care of the worthy dame, it is provided with the + best bedding and the finest furniture. Her own hands sweep it clean, + morning and night, for the incipient parson; she makes up the bed, and, in + customary phrase, puts it in all respects to rights. His wants are + anticipated, his slightest suggestion met with the most prompt + consideration; and John Cross himself, humble and unexacting as he was, + might have felt some little twinges of mortal envy could he have known + that his protege promised to become a much greater favorite than himself. + </p> + <p> + This, indeed, seemed very likely to be the case. A good young man in the + sight of the ladies is always a more attractive person than a good old + man. Dame Hinkley, though no longer young herself, remembered that she had + been so, and preserved all her sympathies, in consequence, for young + people. She thought Alfred Stevens so handsome, and he smiled so sweetly, + and he spoke so genty, and, in short, so great had been his progress in + the affections of his hostess in the brief space of a single week, that we + are constrained to confess ourselves rejoiced that she herself was an old + woman, as well on her own account as on that of her worthy spouse. + </p> + <p> + Her good man was very well satisfied, whether from confidence or + indifference, that such should be the case. Her attentions to the young + stranger probably diverted them from himself. But not so with William + Hinkley—the son. We have already had some glimpses of the character + of this young man. We may now add that the short week's residence of + Stevens in Charlemont had increased the soreness at his heart. In that + week he had seen fairly established that intimacy between his rival and + the lady of his love which seemed to give the death-blow to any + pretensions of his. He had seen them meet; had seen them go forth + together; beheld their mutual eyes, and, turning his own inward, saw how + deeply his heart was concerned in the probable sympathies of theirs. Then, + to turn to his own habitation, and to behold THAT, mother and all, devoted + to the same absolute stranger; to pass unheeded in the presence of those + whom he best loved—over whom natural ties gave him inalienable + rights; to feel himself put aside for one only known of yesterday; to look + with yearning, and meet eyes only of disregard and indifference! Such + being the suggestions of his jealous and suffering nature, it is surely no + matter of wonder that the youth grew melancholy and abstracted. + </p> + <p> + Our adventurer was snugly seated in the little but select chamber which + had been given him in the house of Squire Hinkley. A table, neatly spread + with a cotton cover, stood before him: a travelling-portfolio was opened + beneath his hand, with a broad sheet of paper, already well written over, + and waiting nothing but his signature, and perhaps the postscript. He was + absorbed unusually in his cogitations, and nibbled into bits the feathery + end of the gray goosequill of which he had been making such excellent use. + While he meditates, unseeing, we will use the liberty of an old + acquaintance to scan the letter—for such it is—which he has + been writing. Perhaps we shall gather from it some matters which it may + concern us yet to know:— + </p> + <p> + “Dear Barnabas: The strangest adventure—positively the very + strangest—that ever happened to a son of Murkey's, will keep me from + the embraces of the brethren a few weeks longer. I am benighted, + bewildered, taken with art-magic, transmuted, TRANSMOGRIFIED, not myself + nor yet another, but, as they say in Mississippi, 'a sort of betweenity.' + Fancy me suddenly become a convert to the bluest presbyterianism, as our + late excellent brother Woodford became, when he found that he could not + get Moll Parkinson on any other terms—and your guess will not be + very far from the true one. I am suddenly touched with conviction. I have + seen a light on my way from Tarsus. The scales have fallen from my eyes. I + have seen the wickedness of my ways, and yours too, you dog; and, having + resolved on my own repentance, I am taking lessons which shall enable me + to effect yours. Precious deal of salt will it need for that! Salt river + will fall, while its value rises. But the glory of the thing—think + of that, my boy! What a triumph it will be to revolutionize Murkey's!—to + turnout the drinkers and smokers, and money-changers; to say, 'Hem! my + brethren, let us pay no more taxes to sin in this place!' There shall be + no more cakes and ale. Ginger shall have no heat i' the mouth there; and, + in place of smoking meats and tobacco, give you nothing but smoking + methodism! Won't that be a sight and a triumph which shall stir the dry + bones in our valley—ay, and bones not so dry? There shall be a + quaking of the flesh in sundry places. Flam will perish in the first fit + of consternation; and if Joe Burke's sides do not run into sop and jelly, + through the mere humor of the thing, then prophecy is out of its element + quite. + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, you dog, I have become a theological student! Don't you see + proofs of my progress in my unctuous phraseology. I was taken suddenly + upon the highway—a brand plucked from the burning—and to be + stuck up on high, still lighted, however, as a sort of lantern and + lighthouse to other wayfarers—wandering rogues like yourself, who + need some better lights than your own if it only be to show you how to sin + decently. I am professedly a convert to the true faith, though which that + is, I think, has not well been determined among you at Murkey's, or, + indeed, anywhere else. I believe the vox populi, vox Dei, still comprises + the only wholesome decision which has yet been made on the subject. The + popular vote here declares it to be methodism; with you it is baptism or + presbyterianism—which? I am a flexible student, however, and when I + meet you again at Murkey's, shall be prepared to concur with the majority. + </p> + <p> + “But, in sober fact, I am a professor—actually recognised by my + neighbors as one of the elect—set apart to be and do mighty things. + How I came so, will call for a long story, which I defer to another + occasion. Enough to tell you that an accidental rencontre with a silly old + preacher (whose gullet I filled with raw brandy, which I recommended to + him, under another name, as a sovereign remedy against flatulence, and + which nearly strangled him he took such a premeditated swallow), brought + me into one of the loveliest little villages in all this western country, + and there I saw many things—among others—a woman!— + </p> + <p> + “A woman!—that one word, you dog, will explain the mystery—will + show you why I am thus transmuted, TRANSMOGRIFIED, and in 'a state of + betweenity.' Nothing less, I assure you, could make me disguise myself + after the present fashion; wear the sanctimonious and sour phiz which the + common law of modern religion prescribes, and keep me much longer from the + pleasanter communion of such glorious imps, as I suppose, are, even now, + beginning to gather in the dingy smoke-room of our sovereign Murkey. But + this woman, you will ask. Ay, ay, but you shall have no answer yet. It + shall be enough for you that she is a queen of Sheba, after her own + fashion. A proud, imperious, passionate creature—tall, really + beautiful—and so majestic! You should see the flashing of her eyes + to know what sort of a thing is moral lightning. Her face kindles up in an + instant. She is an intensifier, and like most such, cursedly smart. Young + too—scarce eighteen, I think; queer too—almost tyrannical at + times—but full of blood, of unregulated passions, moody, capricious, + and, of course, easy game, if the sportsman knows anything of the habits + of the bird. She is a country-girl, but no hoyden. Her intensity of + character, her pride and great self-esteem, have made her a solitary. + Unsophisticated in some respects, she is yet not to be surprised. In + solitude, and a taste for it, she has acquired a sort of moral composure + which makes her secure against surprise. I am really taken with the girl, + and COULD love her, I tell you—nay, do love her—so long as + love can keep himself—out of a state of bondage! I do not think, at + this moment, that I shall violate any of the laws of the conventicle, like + small-witted Brother Woodford; though, so far as the woman is concerned, I + should leave it without argument to the free vote of all the Lads of Fancy + that ever gather round Murkey's round table, if my justification for + turning traitor, would not prove immeasurably more complete than his. + </p> + <p> + “So! so! There are bones enough for you to crunch, you professional + bandog. I had not meant to tell you half so much. There is some danger + that one may lose his game altogether, if he suffers his nose to point + unnecessarily to the cover where it lies. I know what keen scents are in + the club, some of which would be on my track in no time if they knew where + to find me; but I shall baffle you, you villains. My post-town is fifty + miles from the place where I pursue my theological studies; you are too + wise to attempt a wild-goose chase. You may smack your chaps, Barney, with + envy; bite them too if you please, and it will only whet my own sense of + pleasure to fancy your confusion, and your hopeless denunciations in the + club. I shall be back in time for term—meanwhile get the papers in + readiness. Write to me at the post-town of Ellisland, and remember to + address me as Alfred Stevens—nay, perhaps, you may even say, 'Rev. + Alfred Stevens,' it will grace the externals of the document with a more + unctuous aspect, and secure the recipient a more wholesome degree of + respect. Send all my letters to this town under envelope with this + direction. I wrote you twice from Somerville. Did I tell you that old + Hunks has been deused liberal? I can laugh at the small terms, yet go to + Murkey's and shine through the smoke with the best of you. I solicit the + prayers of the Round Table. + </p> + <p> + “Faithfully, yours, &c.” + </p> + <p> + So far our profligate had written to his brother profligate, when a tap + was heard at the entrance of his chamber. Thrusting the written papers + into his portfolio, he rose, and opening the door discovered his hostess + at the entrance. + </p> + <p> + “I came, Brother Stevens,” said the old lady, “if you not too busy in your + studies, to have a little talk with you, and to get your counsel upon a + subject that a little distresses me. But you look as if you were busy now—” + </p> + <p> + “Not too busy, Mrs. Hinkley, to oblige you in this or in any other + respect,” replied the guest with suitable suavity of expression—“shall + I attend you down stairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! no! it won't need,” said she. “I'll take a seat with you awhile. We + shall be less liable to interruption here.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens scarcely repressed his smile, but the seniority of the old lady + made her proceedings very innocent, however much they might have been + adverse to the rules. He threw wide the door, and without more hesitation + she followed him at once into the chamber. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. — THE MOTHER'S GRIEFS. + </h2> + <p> + The business upon which Mrs. Hinkley sought the chamber of her guest was a + very simple one, and easily expressed. Not that she expressed it in few + words. That is scarcely possible at any time with an ancient lady. But the + long story which she told, when compressed into intelligible form, related + to her son William. She had some maternal fears on his account. The lad + was a decided melancholic. His appetite was bad; his looks were thin and + unhappy; he lacked the usual spirit of youth; he lacked his own usual + spirit. What was the cause of the change which had come over him so + suddenly, she could not divine. Her anxiety was for the remedy. She had + consulted Brother Cross on the subject before he departed; but that good + man, after a brief examination of the patient, had freely admitted his + inability to say what was the matter with him, and what was proper for his + cure. To the object of this solicitude himself, he had given much good + counsel, concluding finally with a recommendation to read devoutly certain + chapters in Job and Isaiah. It appears that William Hinkley submitted to + all this scrutiny with exemplary fortitude, but gave no satisfactory + answers to any of the questions asked him. He had no complaints, he denied + any suffering; and expressed himself annoyed at the inquisition into his + thoughts and feelings. This annoyance had been expressed, however, with + the subdued tones and language of one habitually gentle and modest. + Whenever he was approached on the subject, as the good old lady assured + her guest, he shook off his questioners with no little haste, and took to + the woods for the rest of the day. “That day,” said she, “you needn't look + for William Hinkley to his dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens had been struck with the deportment of this youth, which had + seemed to him haughty and repulsive; and, as he fancied, characterized by + some sentiment of hostility for himself. He was surprised therefore to + learn from the old lady that the lad was remarkable for his gentleness. + </p> + <p> + “How long has he been in this way, Mrs. Hinkley?” he asked with some + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Well now, Brother Stevens, I can't tell you. It's been growing on him for + some time. I reckon it's a matter of more than four months since I first + seen it; but it's only been a few weeks that I have spoken to him. Brother + Cross spoke to him only Monday of last week. My old man don't seem to see + so much of it; but I know there's a great change in him now from what + there used to be. A mother's eye sees a great way farther into the hearts + of her children, Brother Stevens, than any other persons; and I can see + plainly that William is no more the same boy—no! nor nothing like it—that + he once was. Why, once, he was all life, and good humor; could dance and + sing with the merriest among them; and was always so good and kind, and + loved to do whatever would please a body; and was always with somebody, or + other, making merry, and planning the prettiest sports. Now, he don't + sing, nor dance, nor play; when you see him, you 'most always see him + alone. He goes by himself into the woods, and he'll be going over the + hills all day, nobody with him, and never seeming to care about his food, + and what's more strange, never looking at the books that he used to be so + fond of.” + </p> + <p> + “He has been fond of books, then—had he many?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, a whole drawer of them, and he used to get them besides from the + schoolmaster, Mr. Calvert, a very good man that lives about half a mile + from the village, and has a world of books. But now he neither gets books + from other people nor reads what he's got. I'm dubious, Brother Stevens, + that he's read too much for his own good. Something's not right here, I'm + a thinking.” + </p> + <p> + The good old lady touched her head with her finger and in this manner + indicated her conjecture as to the seat of her son's disease. Stevens + answered her encouragingly. + </p> + <p> + “I scarcely think, Mrs. Hinkley, that it can be anything so bad. The young + man is at that age when a change naturally takes place in the mind and + habits. He wants to go into the world, I suspect. He's probably tired of + doing nothing. What is to be his business? It's high time that such a + youth should have made a choice.” + </p> + <p> + “That's true, Brother Stevens, but he's been the apple to our eyes, and we + haven't been willing that he should take up any business that would—carry + him away from us. He's done a little farming about the country, but that + took him away, and latterly he's kept pretty much at home, going over his + books and studying, now one and now another, just as Mr. Calvert gave them + to him.” + </p> + <p> + “What studies did he pursue?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can't tell you. He was a good time at Latin, and then he wants to + be a lawyer;—” + </p> + <p> + “A lawyer!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he had a great notion to be a lawyer and was at his books pretty + hard for a good year, constant, day by day, until, as I said before, about + four months ago, when I saw that he was growing thin, and that he had put + down the books altogether, and had the change come over him just as I told + you. You see how thin he is now. You'd scarce believe him to be the same + person if you'd seen him then. Why his cheeks were as full and as red as + roses, and his eye was always shining and laughing, and he had the + liveliest step, and between him and Ned Hinkley, his cousin, what with + flute and fiddle, they kept the house in a constant uproar, and we were + all so happy. Now, it isn't once a month that we hear the sound of the + fiddle in the house. He never sings, and he never dances, and he never + plays, and what little he lets us see of him, is always so sad and so + spiritless that I feel heartsick whenever I look upon him. Oh! Brother + Stevens, if you could only find out what's the matter, and tell us what to + do, it would be the most blessed kindness, and I'd never forget it, or + forget you, to my dying day.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever I can do, Mrs. Hinkley, shall surely be done. I will see and + speak with your son.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do—that's a dear good sir. I'm sure if you only talk to him and + advise him it will do him good.” + </p> + <p> + “Without being so sure, ma'am, I will certainly try to please you. Though + I think you see the matter with too serious eyes. Such changes are natural + enough to young people, and to old ones too. But what may be your son's + age.” + </p> + <p> + “Nineteen last April.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a man for his years, Mrs. Hinkley.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he?” + </p> + <p> + “He will do you credit yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! if I could believe so. But you'll speak to him, Brother Stevens? + You'll try and bring all to rights?” + </p> + <p> + “Rely upon me to do what I can;—to do my best.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's as much as any man can do, and I'm sure I'll be so happy—we + shall all be so much indebted to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak of it, my dear madam,” said Stevens, bowing with profound + deference as the old lady took her departure. She went off with light + heart, having great faith in the powers of the holy man, and an equal + faith in his sincerity. + </p> + <p> + “What a bore!” he muttered as he closed the door behind her. “This is one + of the penalties, I suppose, which I must pay for my privileges. I shall + be called upon to reform the morals and manners, and look into the petty + cares of every chuckle-headed boor and boor's brat for ten miles round. + See why boys reject their mush, and why the girls dislike to listen to the + exhortations of a mamma, who requires them to leave undone what she has + done herself—and with sufficient reason too, if her own experience + be not wholly profitless. Well, I must submit. There are advantages, + however; I shall have other pupils to tutor, and it shall go hard with me + if all the grapes prove sour where the vines are so various.” + </p> + <p> + The student of divinity, after these conclusions, prepared to make his + toilet. Very few of these students, in their extreme solicitude for the + well being of the inner man, show themselves wholly regardless of their + externals. Even mourning, it appears, requires to be disposed by a + fashionable costumer. Though the garments to which the necessities of + travel limited Brother Stevens were not various, they were yet select. The + good young man had an affection for his person, which was such certainly + as to deserve his care. On this occasion he was more than usually + particular. He did not scruple to discard the white cravat. For this he + substituted a handkerchief which had the prettiest sprig of lilac, on a + ground of the most delicate lemon color. He consulted complexions, and his + mirror determined him in favor of this pattern. Brother Stevens would not + have worn it had he been summoned, in his new vocation, to preach or pray + at the conventicle; nor would he have dreamed of anything but a black + stock had his business been to address the democracy from the top of a + cider-barrel. His habits, under such necessities, would have been made to + correspond with the principles with which such a situation more distinctly + called for. + </p> + <p> + But the thoughts of our worthy brother ran upon other objects. He was + thinking of Margaret Cooper. He was about to pay that damsel a visit. His + progress, we may suppose, had not been inconsiderable when we are told + that his present visit was one of previous arrangement. They were about to + go forth on a ramble together—the woods were so wild and lovely—the + rocks surrounding Charlemont were so very picturesque;—there was the + quietest tarn, a sort of basin in the bosom of the hills at a little + distance, which she was to show him; and there was the sweetest stream in + the world, that meandered in the neighborhood; and Brother Stevens so + loved the picturesque—lakes embosomed in hills, and streams stealing + through unbroken forests, and all so much the more devotedly, when he had + such a companion as Margaret Cooper. + </p> + <p> + And Margaret Cooper!—she the wild, the impassioned. A dreamer—a + muse—filled with ambitious thoughts—proud, vain, aspiring + after the vague, the unfathomable! What was her joy, now that she could + speak her whole soul, with all its passionate fullness, to understanding + ears! Stevens and herself had already spoken together. Her books had been + his books. The glowing passages which she loved to repeat, were also the + favorite passages in his memory. Over the burning and thrilling strains of + Byron, the tender and spiritual of Shelley, the graceful and soft of + Campbell, she loved to linger. They filled her thoughts. They made her + thoughts. She felt that her true utterance lay in their language; and this + language, until now, had fallen dead and without fruit upon the dull ears + of her companions in Charlemont. What was their fiddling and festivity to + her! What their tedious recreations by hillside or stream, when she had to + depress her speech to the base levels of their unimaginative souls! The + loveliness of nature itself, unrepresented by the glowing hues of poetry, + grew tame, if not offensive; and when challenged to its contemplation by + those to whom the muse was nothing, the fancy of the true observer grew + chilled and heavy, and the scenes of beauty seemed prostituted in their + glance. + </p> + <p> + We have all felt this. Nothing can more annoy the soul of taste or + sensibility than to behold its favorite scene and subject fail in + awakening others to that emotion which it has inspired in ourselves. We + turn away in haste, lest the object of our worship should become degraded + by a longer survey. Enthusiasm recoils at a denial of sympathy; and all + the worth of our companion, in a thousand other respects, fails to + reconcile us to his coldness and indifference. + </p> + <p> + That Alfred Stevens had taste and talent—that he was well read in + the volumes which had been her favorite study, Margaret Cooper needed no + long time to discover. She soon ascribed to him qualities and tastes which + were beyond his nature. Deceived by his tact, she believed in his + enthusiasm. He soon discovered HER tastes; and she found equally soon that + HIS were like her own. After this discovery, she gave him credit for other + and more important possessions; and little dreamed that, while he + responded to her glowing sentiments with others equally glowing—avowed + the same love for the same authors, and concurred with her in the + preference of the same passages—his feelings were as little + susceptible of sympathy with hers as would have been those of the cold + demon Mephistopheles! While her eye was flashing, her cheek flushed, her + breast heaving with the burning thoughts and strains of the master to whom + her beautiful lips were giving utterance, he was simply sensible to HER + beauty—to its strange, wild charms—and meditating thoughts + from which the soul of true poetry recoils with the last feelings of + aversion. Even the passion which he felt while he surveyed her, foreign as + it was to those legitimate emotions which her ambition and her genius + would equally have tended to inspire in any justly-minded nature, might + well be considered frigid—regarded as the result of deliberate + artifice—the true offspring of an habitual and base indulgence. + </p> + <p> + It was to meet this unsophisticated, impassioned, and confiding girl, that + Alfred Stevens bestowed such particular pains on his costume. He felt its + deficiencies, and, accordingly, the necessity of making the most of it; + for, though he perfectly well knew that such a woman as Margaret Cooper + would have been the very last to regard the mere garment in which a + congenial nature is arrayed, yet he also well knew that the costume is not + less indicative of the tastes than the wealth of the wearer. You will see + thousands of persons, men and women, richly dressed, and but one will be + WELL dressed: that one, most generally, will be the individual who is + perhaps of all others possessed of the least resources for dress, other + than those which dwell in the well-arranged mind, the well-disposing + taste, and the happy, crowning fancy. + </p> + <p> + His tasks of the toilet were at length ended, and he was preparing to go + forth. He was about to leave the chamber, had already placed his hand upon + the latch of the door, when he heard the voice of his hostess, on the + stairway, in seeming expostulation with her son. He was about to forbear + his purpose of departure as the parties had retired, when, remembering the + solicitude of the lady, and thinking it would show that zest in her + service which he really could not entertain, he determined at once to to + join the young man, and begin with him that certain degree of intimacy + without which it could scarcely be supposed that he could broach the + subject of his personal affairs. He felt somewhat the awkwardness of this + assumed duty, but then he recollected his vocation; he knew the paramount + influence of the clergy upon all classes of persons in the West, and, with + the conscious superiority derived from greater years and better education, + he felt himself fortified in undertaking the paternal office which the + fond, foolish mother had confided to his hands. Accordingly, descending + the stairs briskly, he joined the two at the entrance of the dwelling. The + son was already on the outside; the mother stood in the doorway: and, as + Stevens appeared and drew nigh, William Hinkley bowed, and turned away as + if to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + “If you have no objections, Mr. Hinkley,” said Stevens, “I will join you. + You seem to be about to go my way.” + </p> + <p> + The young man paused with an air of reluctance, muttered something which + was not altogether intelligible, but which Stevens construed into assent, + and the two set forth together—the good old matron giving a glance + of gratitude to the benevolent young student which her son did not fail to + note, while, at the same time, a sentence which evidently conveyed some + motherly rebuke, was addressed to his already-irritated ears. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. — WRESTLING. + </h2> + <p> + Alfred Stevens, as he walked behind his young companion, observed him with + a more deliberate survey than he had yet taken. Hitherto, the young man + had challenged but little of his scrutiny. He had simply noted him for a + tall youth, yet in the green, who appeared of a sulky, retiring nature, + and whose looks had seemed to him on one or more occasions to manifest + something like distaste for himself. The complacency of Stevens, however, + was too well grounded to be much disturbed by such an exhibition. Perhaps, + indeed, he would have derived a malicious sort of satisfaction in making a + presumptuous lad feel his inferiority. He had just that smallness of + spirit which would find its triumph in the success of such a performance. + </p> + <p> + He now observed that the youth was well formed, tall, not ungraceful—with + features of singular intelligence, though subdued to the verge of sadness. + His face was pale and thin, his eyes were a little sunken, and his air, + expression, and general outside, denoted a youth of keen sensibilities, + who had suffered some disappointment. + </p> + <p> + In making this examination, Alfred Stevens was not awakened to any + generous purposes. He designed, in reality, nothing more than to acquit + himself of the duty he had undertaken with the smallest possible exertion. + His own mind was one of that mediocre character which the heart never + informs. His scrutiny, therefore, though it enabled him to perceive that + the young man had qualities of worth, was not such as to prompt any real + curiosity to examine further. A really superior mind would have been moved + to look into these resources; and, without other motive than that of + bringing a young, laboring, and ardent soul out of the meshes of a new and + bewildering thought or situation, would have addressed himself to the task + with that degree of solicitous earnestness which disarms prejudice and + invites and wins confidence. But, with his first impression, that the + whole business was a “bore,” our benevolent young teacher determined on + getting through with it with the least possible effort. He saw that the + youth carried a book under his arm, the externals of which, so uniform and + discouraging as they appear in every legal library, could not well be + questioned as belonging to some such venerable receptacle of barbarous + phrase and rigid authority. The circumstance afforded him an occasion to + begin a conversation, the opening of which, with all his coolness, was a + subject of some awkwardness. + </p> + <p> + “You seem a student like myself, Mr. Hinkley, and, if I mistake not from + the appearance of your book, you are taking up the profession which I am + about to lay down.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a law-book, sir,” said Hinkley, in accents which were rather meek + than cold; “it is Blackstone.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I thought as much. Have you been long a student?” + </p> + <p> + “I may scarcely consider myself one yet. I have read, sir, rather than + studied.” + </p> + <p> + “A good distinction, not often made. But, do you incline to law + seriously?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir—I know no occupation to which I so much incline.” + </p> + <p> + “The law is a very arduous profession. It requires a rare union of + industry, talent, and knowledge of mankind to be a good lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Few succeed where thousands fail. Young men are very apt to mistake + inclination for ability; and to be a poor lawyer—” + </p> + <p> + “Is to be worse than poor—is to be despicable!” replied Hinkley with + a half-smile, as he interrupted a speech which might have been construed + into a very contemptuous commentary on his own pretensions. It would seem + that the young man had so understood it. He continued thus:— + </p> + <p> + “It may be so with me, sir. It is not improbable that I deceive myself, + and confound inclination with ability.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pardon me, my dear young friend,” said Stevens patronizingly; “but I + do not say so. I utter a mere generality. Of course, I can know nothing on + the subject of your abilities. I should be glad to know. I should like to + converse with you. But the law is very arduous, very exacting. It requires + a good mind, and it requires the whole of it. There is no such thing as + being a good lawyer from merely reading law. You can't bolt it as we do + food in this country. We must chew upon it. It must be well digested. You + seem to have the right notion on this subject. I should judge so from two + things: the distinction which you made between the reader and the student; + and the fact that your appearance is that of the student. I am afraid, my + young friend, that you overwork yourself. You look thin, and pale, and + unhappy. You should be careful that your passion for study is not indulged + in at the peril of your health.” + </p> + <p> + The frame of the young man seemed to be suddenly agitated. His face was + flushed, and a keen, quick, flash of anger seemed to lighten in his eyes + as he looked up to the paternal counsellor and replied:— + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir, for your interest, but it is premature. I am not + conscious that my health suffers from this or any other cause.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, my young friend, do not deceive yourself. You perhaps underrate your + own industry. It is very difficult matter to decide how much we can do and + how much we ought to do, in the way of study. No mere thinking can + determine this matter for us. It can only be decided by being able to see + what others do and can endure. In a little country village like this, one + can not easily determine; and the difficulty may be increased somewhat by + one's own conviction, of the immense deal that one has to learn. If you + were to spend a year in some tolerably large community. Perhaps you + meditate some such plan?”. + </p> + <p> + “I do not, sir,” was the cold reply. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed; and have you no desire that way?” + </p> + <p> + “None!” + </p> + <p> + “Very strange! at your time of life the natural desire is to go into the + great world. Even the student fancies he can learn better there than he + can anywhere else—and so he can.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, sir: if I may be so bold to ask, why, with this opinion, have you + left the great city to bury yourself in a miserable village like + Charlemont?” + </p> + <p> + The question was so quickly put, and with so much apparent keenness, that + Stevens found the tables suddenly reversed. But he was in nowise + discomposed. He answered promptly. + </p> + <p> + “You forget,” he said, “that I was speaking of very young men, of an + ambitious temper, who were seeking to become lawyers. The student of + divinity may very well be supposed to be one who would withdraw himself + from the scene of ambition, strifes, vanities, and tumultuous passions.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak, sir, as if there were a material difference in our years?” + said Hinkley inquiringly. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps it is less than in our experience, my young friend,” was the + answer of the other, betraying that quiet sense of superiority which would + have been felt more gallingly by Hinkley had he been of a less modest + nature. Still, it had the effect of arousing some of the animal in his + blood, and he responded in a sentence which was not entirely without its + sneer, though it probably passed without penetrating such a buff of + self-esteem as guarded the sensibilities of our adventurer. + </p> + <p> + “You are fortunate sir, if, at your time of life, you have succeeded in + withdrawing your thoughts and feelings, with your person, from such scenes + of ambition as you speak of. But I fancy the passions dwell with us in the + country as well as with the wiser people in the town; and I am not sure + that there is any pursuit much more free from their intrusion than that of + the law.” + </p> + <p> + “Your remark exhibits penetration, Mr. Hinkley. I should not be surprised + if you have chosen your profession properly. Still, I should counsel you + not to overwork yourself. Bear with me, sir; I feel an interest in your + behalf, and I must think you do so. Allow me to be something of a judge in + this matter. You are aware, sir, that I too have been a lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + The youth bowed stiffly. + </p> + <p> + “If I can lend you any assistance in your studies, I will do so. Let me + arrange them for you, and portion out your time. I know something about + that, and will save you from injuring your health. On this point you + evidently need instruction. You are doing yourself hurt. Your appearance + is matter of distress and apprehension to your parents.” + </p> + <p> + “To my parents, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Your mother, I mean! She spoke to me about you this very morning. She is + distressed at some unaccountable changes which have taken place in your + manners, your health, your personal appearance. Of course I can say + nothing on the subject of the past, or of these changes; but I may be + permitted to say that your present looks do not betoken health, and I have + supposed this to be on account of your studies. I promised your good + mother to confer with you, and counsel you, and if I can be of any help—“' + </p> + <p> + “You are very good, sir!” + </p> + <p> + The young man spoke bitterly. His gorge was rising. It was not easy to + suppress his vexation with his mother, and the indignation which he felt + at the supercilious approaches of the agent whom she had employed. + Besides, his mind, not less than his feelings, was rising in vigor in due + degree with the pressure put upon it. + </p> + <p> + “You are very good, sir, and I am very much obliged to you. I could have + wished, however, that my mother had not given you this trouble, sir. She + certainly must have been thinking of Mr. John Cross. She could scarcely + have hoped that any good could have resulted to me, from the counsel of + one who is so little older than myself.” + </p> + <p> + This speech made our adventurer elevate his eyebrows. He absolutely + stopped short to look upon the speaker. William Hinkley stopped short + also. His eye encountered that of Stevens with an expression as full of + defiance as firmness. His cheeks glowed with the generous indignation + which filled his veins. + </p> + <p> + “This fellow has something in him after all,” was the involuntary + reflection that rose to the other's mind. The effect was, however, not + very beneficial to his own manner. Instead of having the effect of + impressing upon Stevens the necessity of working cautiously, the show of + defiance which he saw tended to provoke and annoy him. The youth had + displayed so much propriety in his anger, had been so moderate as well as + firm, and had uttered his answer with so much dignity and correctness, + that he felt himself rebuked. To be encountered by an unsophisticated boy, + and foiled, though but for an instant—slightly estimated, though but + by a youth, and him too, a mere rustic—was mortifying to the + self-esteem that rather precipitately hurried to resent it. + </p> + <p> + “You take it seriously, Mr. Hinkley. But surely an offer of service need + not be mistaken. As for the trifling difference which may be in our years, + that is perhaps nothing to the difference which may be in our experience, + our knowledge of the world, our opportunities and studies.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sir; all these MAY be, but at all events we are not bound to + assume their existence until it is shown.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you are likely to prove an adept in the law, Mr. Hinkley.” + </p> + <p> + “I trust, sir, that your progress may be as great in the church.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!—do I understand you? There is war between us then?” said + Stevens, watching the animated and speaking countenance of William Hinkley + with increasing curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir—there is!” was the spirited reply of the youth. “Let it be + war; I am the better pleased, sir, that you are the first to proclaim it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said Stevens, “be it so, if you will. At all events you can + have no objection to say why it should be so.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you ask, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely; for I can not guess.” + </p> + <p> + “You are less sagacious, then, than I had fancied you. You, scarce older + than myself—a stranger among us—come to me in the language of + a father, or a master, and without asking what I have of feeling, or what + I lack of sense, undertake deliberately to wound the one, while insolently + presuming to inform the other.” + </p> + <p> + “At the request of your own mother!” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! what man of sense or honesty would urge such a plea. Years, and + long intimacy, and wisdom admitted to be superior, could alone justify the + presumption.” + </p> + <p> + The cheeks of Stevens became scalding hot. + </p> + <p> + “Young man!” he exclaimed, “there is something more than this!” + </p> + <p> + “What! would it need more were our positions reversed?” demanded Hinkley + with a promptness that surprised himself. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not! would you provoke me to personal violence?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! might I hope for that? surely you forget that you are a churchman?” + </p> + <p> + Stevens paused awhile before he answered. His eyes looked vacantly around + him. By this time they had left the more thickly-settled parts of the + village considerably behind them. But a few more dwellings lay along the + path on which they were approaching. On the left, a gorge opened in the + hills by which the valley was dotted, which seemed a pathway, and did + indeed lead to one or more dwellings which were out of sight in the + opposite valley. The region to which this pathway led was very secluded, + and the eye of Stevens surveyed it for a few moments in silence. The words + of Hinkley unquestionably conveyed a challenge. According to the practice + of the country, AS A LAWYER, he would have been bound to have taken it as + such. A moment was required for reflection. His former and present + position caused a conflict in his mind. The last sentence of Hinkley, and + a sudden glimpse which he just then caught of the residence of Margaret + Cooper, determined his answer. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, young man, for reminding me of my duties. You had nearly + provoked the old passions and old practices into revival. I forgive you—you + misunderstand me clearly. I know not how I have offended you, for my only + purpose was to serve your mother and yourself. I may have done this + unwisely. I will not attempt to prove that I have not. At all events, + assured of my own motives, I leave you to yourself. You will probably ere + long feel the injustice you have done me!” + </p> + <p> + He continued on his way, leaving William Hinkley almost rooted to the + spot. The poor youth was actually stunned, not by what was said to him, + but by the sudden consciousness of his own vehemence. He had expressed + himself with a boldness and an energy of which neither himself nor his + friend, until now, would have thought him capable. A moment's pause in the + provocation, and the feelings which had goaded him on were taken with a + revulsion quite as sudden. As he knew not well what he had said, so he + fancied he had said everything precisely as the passionate thought had + suggested it in his own mind. Already he began to blame himself—to + feel that he had done wrong—that there had been nothing in the + conduct or manner of Stevens, however unpleasant, to justify his own + violence; and that the true secret of his anger was to be found in that + instinctive hostility which he had felt for his rival from the first. The + more he mused, the more he became humbled by his thoughts; and when he + recollected the avowed profession of Stevens his shame increased. He felt + how shocking it was to intimate to a sworn non-combatant the idea of a + personal conflict. To what point of self-abasement his thoughts would have + carried him, may only be conjectured; he might have hurried forward to + overtake his antagonist with the distinct purpose of making the most ample + apology; nay, more, such was the distinct thought which was now pressing + upon his mind, when he was saved from this humiliation by perceiving that + Stevens had already reached, and was about to enter the dwelling of + Margaret Cooper. With this sight, every thought and feeling gave place to + that of baffled love, and disappointed affection. With a bitter groan he + turned up the gorge, and soon shut himself from sight of the now hateful + habitation. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. — THE MASTER AND HIS PUPILS. + </h2> + <p> + The course of the young rustic was pursued for half a mile further till he + came to a little cottage of which the eye could take no cognizance from + any part of the village. It was embowelled in a glen of its own—a + mere cup of the slightly-rising hills, and so encircled by foliage that it + needed a very near approach of the stranger before he became aware of its + existence. The structure was very small, a sort of square box with a cap + upon it, and consisted of two rooms only on a ground floor, with a little + lean-to or shed-room in the rear, intended for a kitchen. As you drew nigh + and passed through the thick fringe of wood by which its approach was + guarded, the space opened before you, and you found yourself in a sort of + amphitheatre, of which the cottage was the centre. A few trees dotted this + area, large and massive trees, and seemingly preserved for purposes of + shade only. It was the quietest spot in the world, and inspired just that + sort of feeling in the contemplative stranger which would be awakened by a + ramble among the roofless ruins of the ancient abbey. It was a home for + contemplation—in which one might easily forget the busy world + without, and deliver himself up, without an effort, to the sweetly sad + musings of the anchorite. + </p> + <p> + The place was occupied, however. A human heart beat within the humble + shed, and there was a spirit, sheltered by its quiet, that mused many high + thoughts, and dreamed in equal congratulation and self-reproach, of that + busy world from which it was an exile. The visit of William Hinkley was + not paid to the solitude. A venerable man, of large frame, and benignant + aspect, sat beneath an aged tree, paternal in its appearance like himself. + This person might be between fifty and sixty years of age. His hair, + though very thick and vigorous, was as white as driven snow. But there + were few wrinkles on his face, and his complexion was the clear red and + white of a healthy and sanguine temperament. His brow was large and lofty. + It had many more wrinkles than his face. There were two large horizontal + seams upon it that denoted the exercise of a very busy thought. But the + expression of his eye was that of the most unembarrassed benevolence and + peace. It was subdued and sometimes sad, but then it had the sweetest, + playfullest twinkle in the world. His mouth, which was small and + beautifully formed, wore a similar expression. In short he was what we + would call a handsome old gentleman, whose appearance did not offend + taste, and whose kind looks invited confidence. Nor would we mistake his + character. + </p> + <p> + This person was the Mr. Calvert, the schoolmaster of the village, of whom + Mrs. Hinkley spoke to Alfred Stevens in discussing the condition of her + son. His tasks were over for the day. The light-hearted rabble whom he + taught, released from his dominion which was not severe, were, by this + time, scampering over the hills, as far from their usual place of + restraint as the moderate strength of their legs could carry them. Though + let loose, boys are not apt to feel their liberty in its prime and + freshness, immediately in the neighborhood of the schoolhouse. The old + gentleman left to himself, sat out in the open air, beneath a massive oak, + the paternal stretching of whose venerable arms not unfrequently led to + the employment of the shade below for carrying on the operations of the + schoolhouse. There, squat on their haunches, the sturdy boys—germs + of the finest peasantry in the world—surrounded their teacher in a + group quite as pleasing as picturesque. The sway of the old man was + paternal. His rod was rather a figurative than a real existence; and when + driven to the use of the birch, the good man, consulting more tastes than + one, employed the switch from the peach or some other odorous tree or + shrub, in order to reconcile the lad, as well as he could, to the + extraordinary application. He was one of those considerate persons, who + disguise pills in gold-leaf, and if compelled, as a judge, to hang a + gentleman, would decree that a rope of silk should carry out the painful + requisitions of the laws. + </p> + <p> + Seated beneath his tree, in nearly the same spot and position in which he + had dismissed his pupils, William Calvert pored over the pages of a volume + as huge of size as it was musty of appearance. It was that pleasant book—quite + as much romance as history—the “Knights of Malta,” by our venerable + father, Monsieur L'Abbe Vertot. Its dull, dim, yellow-looking pages—how + yellow, dim, and dull-looking in comparison with more youthful works—had + yet a life and soul which it is not easy to find in many of these latter. + Its high wrought and elaborate pictures of strife, and toil, and + bloodshed, grew vividly before the old man's eyes; and then, to help the + illusion, were there not the portraits—mark me—the veritable + portraits, engraved on copper, with all their titles, badges, and + insignia, done to the life, of all those brave, grand, and famous masters + of the order, by whom the deeds were enacted which he read, and who stared + out upon his eyes, at every epoch, in full confirmation of the veracious + narrative? No wonder that the old man became heedless of external objects. + No wonder he forgot the noise of the retiring urchins, and the toils of + the day, as, for the twentieth time, he glowed in the brave recital of the + famous siege—the baffled fury of the Turk—the unshaken + constancy and unremitted valor of the few but fearless defenders. The + blood in his cheek might be seen hastening to and fro in accordance with + the events of which he read. His eye was glowing—his pulse beating, + and he half started from his seat, as, hearing a slight footstep, he + turned to encounter the respectful homage of his former pupil, still his + friend, our young acquaintance, William Hinkley. + </p> + <p> + The old man laid down his book upon the grass, extended his hand to his + visiter, and leaning back against the tree, surrendered himself to a quiet + chuckle in which there was the hesitancy of a little shame. + </p> + <p> + “You surprised me, William,” he said; “when I read old Vertot, and such + books, I feel myself a boy again. You must have seen my emotion. I really + had got so warm, that I was about to start up and look for the weapons of + war; and had you but come a moment later, you might have suffered an + assault. As it was, I took you for a Turk—Solyman himself—and + was beginning to ask myself whether I should attack you tooth and nail, + having no other weapons, or propose terms of peace. Considering the severe + losses which you—I mean his Turkish highness—had sustained, I + fancied that you would not be disinclined to an arrangement just at this + moment. But this very notion, at the same time, led me to the conclusion + that I might end the struggle for ever by another blow. A moment later, my + boy, and you might have been compelled to endure it for the Turk.” + </p> + <p> + The youth smiled sadly as he replied: “I must borrow that book from you, + sir, some of these days. I have often thought to do so, but I am afraid.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid of what, William?” + </p> + <p> + “That it will turn my head, sir, and make me dislike more difficult + studies.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a reasonable fear, my son; but there is no danger of this sort, if + we will only take heed of one rule, and that is, to take such books as we + take sweetmeats—in very small quantities at a time, and never to + interfere with the main repast. I suspect that light reading—or + reading which we usually call light, but which, as it concerns the fate of + man in his most serious relations, his hopes, his affections, his heart, + nay, his very people and nation—is scarcely less important than any + other. I suspect that this sort of reading would be of great service to + the student, by relieving the solemnity of more tedious and exacting + studies, if taken sparingly and at allotted hours. The student usually + finds a recreation of some kind. I would make books of this description + his recreation. Many a thick-headed and sour parent has forced his son + into a beer-shop, into the tastes for tobacco and consequently brandy, + simply from denying him amusements which equally warm the blood and + elevate the imagination. Studies which merely inform the head are very apt + to endanger the heart. This is the reproach usually urged against the + class of persons whom we call thorough lawyers. Their intense devotion to + that narrow sphere of law which leaves out jury-pleading, is very apt to + endanger the existence of feeling and imagination. The mere analysis of + external principles begets a degree of moral indifference to all things + else, which really impairs the intellect by depriving it of its highest + sources of stimulus. Mathematicians suffer in the same way—become + mere machines, and forfeit, in their concern for figures, all the social + and most of the human characteristics. The mind is always enfeebled by any + pursuit so single and absorbing in its aims as to leave out of exercise + any of the moral faculties. That course of study is the only one to make a + truly great man, which compels the mind to do all things of which it is + capable.” + </p> + <p> + “But how do you reconcile this, sir, with the opinion, so generally + entertained, that no one man can serve two masters? Law, like the muse, is + a jealous mistress. She is said to suffer no lachesse to escape with + impunity.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake me. While I counsel one to go out of his profession for + relief and recreation, I still counsel but the one pursuit. Men fail in + their professions, not because they daily assign an hour to amusement, but + because they halt in a perpetual struggle between some two leading + objects. For example, nothing is more frequent in our country than to + combine law and politics. Nothing is more apt to ruin the lawyer.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, sir. I now understand you. But I should think the great + difficulty would be, in resorting to such pleasant books as this of Vertot + for relief and recreation, that you could not cast him off when you + please. The intoxication would continue even after the draught has been + swallowed, and would thus interfere with the hours devoted to other + employments.” + </p> + <p> + “There is reason in that, William, and that, indeed, is the grand + difficulty. But to show that a good scheme has its difficulties is not an + argument for abandoning it.” + </p> + <p> + “By no means, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “The same individual whom Vertot might intoxicate, would most probably be + intoxicated by more dangerous stimulants. Everything, however, depends + upon the habits of self-control which a man has acquired in his boyhood. + The habit of self-control is the only habit which makes mental power truly + effective. The man who can not compel himself to do or to forbear, can + never be much of a student. Students, if you observe, are generally dogged + men—inflexible, plodding, persevering—among lawyers, those men + whom you always find at their offices, and seldom see anywhere else. They + own that mental habit which we call self-control, which supplies the + deficiency in numerous instances of real talent. It is a power, and a + mighty power, particularly in this country, where children are seldom + taught it, and consequently grow up to be a sort of moral vanes that move + with every change of wind, and never fix until they do so with their own + rust. He who learns this power in boyhood will be very sure to master all + his companions.” + </p> + <p> + The darker expression of sadness passed over the countenance of the + ingenuous youth. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid,” said he, “that I shall never acquire this habit.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so? In your very fear I see a hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir, I feel my own instability of character. I feel myself the + victim of a thousand plans and purposes, which change as soon and as often + as they are made. I am afraid, sir, I shall be nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not despond, my son,” said the old man sympathizingly. “Your fear is + natural to your age and temperament. Most young men at your time of life + feel numerous yearnings—the struggle of various qualities of mind, + each striving in newly-born activity, and striving adversely. Your + unhappiness arises from the refusal of these qualities to act together. + When they learn to co-operate, all will be easy. Your strifes will be + subdued; there will be a calm like that upon the sea when the storms + subside.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but when will that be? A long time yet. It seems to me that the storm + rather increases than subsides.” + </p> + <p> + “It may seem so to you now, and yet, when the strife is greatest, the + favorable change is at hand. It needs but one thing to make all the + conflicting qualities of one's mind cooperate.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that one thing, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “An object! As yet, you have none.” + </p> + <p> + “None, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “None—or rather many—which is pretty much the same thing as + having none.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure, sir—but it seems to me, sir, that I have an object.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, William! are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, name it.” + </p> + <p> + “I have ambition, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is a passion, not an object. Does your ambition point in one + direction? Unless it does, it is objectless.” + </p> + <p> + The youth was silent. The old man proceeded:— + </p> + <p> + “I am disposed to be severe with you, my son. There is no surer sign of + feebleness than in the constant beginnings and the never performings of a + mind. Know thyself, is the first lesson to learn. Is it not very childish + to talk of having ambition, without knowing what to do with it? If we have + ambition, it is given to us to work with. You come to me, and declare this + ambition! We confer together. Your ambition seeks for utterance. You ask, + 'What sort of utterance will suit an ambition such as mine?' To answer + this question, we ask, 'What are your qualities?' Did you think, William, + that I disparaged yours when I recommended the law to you as a + profession?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir! oh, no! Perhaps you overrated them. I am afraid so—I think + so.” + </p> + <p> + “No, William, unfortunately, you do not think about it. If you would + suffer yourself to think, you would speak a different language.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not think—I am too miserable to think!” exclaimed the youth + in a burst of passion. The old man looked surprised. He gazed with a + serious anxiety into the youth's face, and then addressed him:— + </p> + <p> + “Where have you been, William, for the last three weeks? In all that time + I have not seen you.” + </p> + <p> + A warm blush suffused the cheeks of the pupil. He did not immediately + answer. + </p> + <p> + “Ask ME!” exclaimed a voice from behind them, which they both instantly + recognised as that of Ned Hinkley, the cousin of William. He had + approached them, in the earnestness of their interview, without having + disturbed them. The bold youth was habited in a rough woodman's dress. He + wore a round jacket of homespun, and in his hand he carried a couple of + fishing-rods, which, with certain other implements, betrayed sufficiently + the object of his present pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “Ask me!” said he. “I can tell you what he's been about better than + anybody else.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Ned,” said the old man, “what has it been? I am afraid it is your + fiddle that keeps him from his Blackstone.” + </p> + <p> + “My fiddle, indeed! If he would listen to my fiddle when she speaks out, + he'd be wiser and better for it. Look at him, Mr. Calvert, and say whether + it's book or fiddle that's likely to make him as lean as a March pickerel + in the short space of three months. Only look at him, I say.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly, William, I had not observed it before, but, as Ned says, you do + look thin, and you tell me you are unhappy. Hard study might make you + thin, but can not make you unhappy. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + The more volatile and freespoken cousin answered for him. + </p> + <p> + “He's been shot, gran'pa, since you saw him last.” + </p> + <p> + “Shot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, shot!—He THINKS mortally. I think not. A flesh wound to my + thinking, that a few months more will cure.” + </p> + <p> + “You have some joke at bottom, Edward,” said the old man gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Joke, sir! It's a tough joke that cudgels a plump lad into a lean one in + a single season.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to use your own language, gran'pa. Among the lessons I got from + you when you undertook to fill our heads with wisdom by applications of + smartness to a very different place—among the books we sometimes + read from was one of Master Ovid.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! I see what you're after. I understand the shooting. So you think + that the blind boy has hit William, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “A flesh wound as I tell you; but he thinks the bolt is in his heart. I'm + sure it can and will be plucked out, and no death will follow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! who's the maiden from whose eyes the arrow was barbed?” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! indeed!” said the old man gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Do not heed him,” exclaimed William Hinkley; but the blush upon his + cheeks, still increasing, spoke a different language. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not heed him, William. The passions of persons so young as + yourself are seldom of a permanent character. The attractions which win + the boy seldom compensate the man. There is time enough for this, ten + years hence, and love then will be far more rational.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, lud!—wait ten years at twenty. I can believe a great deal in + the doctrine of young men's folly, but I can't go that. I'm in love + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! I!—I'm hit too—and if you don't like it, why did you + teach us Ovid and the rest? As for rational love, that's a new sort of + thing that we never heard about before. Love was never expected to be + rational. He's known the contrary. I've heard so ever since I was + knee-high to the great picture of your Cupid that you showed us in your + famous Dutch edition of Apuleius. The young unmarried men feel that it's + irrational; the old married people tell us so in a grunt that proves the + truth of what they say. But that don't alter the case. It's a sort of + natural madness that makes one attack in every person's lifetime. I don't + believe in repeated attacks. Some are bit worse than others; and some + think themselves bit, and are mistaken. That's the case with William, and + it's that that keeps him from your law-books and my fiddle. That makes him + thin. He has a notion of Margaret Cooper, and she has none of him; and + love that's all of one side is neither real nor rational. I don't believe + it.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley muttered something angrily in the ears of the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said the impetuous cousin, “I don't want to make you vexed, + and still less do I come here to talk such politics with you. What do you + say to tickling a trout this afternoon? That's what I come for.” + </p> + <p> + “It's too cool,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit. There's a wind from the south, and a cast of cloud is + constantly growing between us and the sun. I think we shall do something—something + better than talking about love, and law, where nobody's agreed. You, + gran'pa, won't take the love; Bill Hinkley can't stomach the law, and the + trout alone can bring about a reconciliation. Come, gran'pa, I'm resolved + on getting your supper to-night, and you must go and see me do it.” + </p> + <p> + “On one condition only, Ned.” + </p> + <p> + “What's that, gran'pa?” + </p> + <p> + “That you both sup with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Done for myself. What say you, Bill?” + </p> + <p> + The youth gave a sad assent, and the rattling youth proceeded:— + </p> + <p> + “The best cure of grief is eating. Love is a sort of pleasant grief. Many + a case of affliction have I seen mended by a beefsteak. Fish is better. + Get a lover to eat, rouse up his appetites, and, to the same extent, you + lessen his affections. Hot suppers keep down the sensibilities; and, + gran'pa, after ours, to-night, you shall have the fiddle. If I don't make + her speak to you to-night, my name's Brag, and you need never again + believe me.” + </p> + <p> + And the good-humored youth, gathering up his canes, led the way to the + hills, slowly followed by his two less elastic companions. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. — THE HISTORY OF A FAILURE. + </h2> + <p> + The route, which conducted them—over a range of gently-ascending + hills, through groves tolerably thick, an uncleared woodland tract + comprising every variety of pleasant foliage, at length brought them to a + lonely tarn or lake, about a mile in circumference, nestled and crouching + in the hollow of the hills, which, in some places sloped gently down to + its margin, at others hung abruptly over its deep and pensive waters. A + thick fringe of shrubs, water-grasses, and wild flowers, girdled its + edges, and gave a dark and mysterious expression to its face. There were + many beaten tracks, narrow paths for individual wayfarers on foot, which + conducted down to favorite fishing-spots. These were found chiefly on + those sides of the lake where the rocks were precipitous. Perched on a + jutting eminence, and half shrouded in the bushes which clothed it, the + silent fisherman took his place, while his fly was made to kiss the water + in capricious evolutions, such as the experienced angler knows how to + employ to beguile the wary victim from close cove, or gloomy hollow, or + from beneath those decaying trunks of overthrown trees which have given + his brood a shelter from immemorial time. + </p> + <p> + To one of these selected spots, Ned Hinkley proceeded, leaving his + companions above, where, in shade themselves, and lying at ease upon the + smooth turf, they could watch his successes, and at the same time enjoy + the coup d'oeil, which was singularly beautiful, afforded by the whole + surrounding expanse. The tarn, like the dark mysterious dwelling of an + Undine, was spread out before them with the smoothness of glass, though + untransparent, and shining beneath their eyes like a vast basin of the + richest jet. A thousand pretty changes along the upland slopes, or abrupt + hills which hemmed it in, gave it a singular aspect of variety which is + seldom afforded by any scene very remarkable for its stillness and + seclusion. Opposite to the rock on which Ned Hinkley was already + crouching, the hill-slope to the lake was singularly unbroken, and so + gradual was the ascent from the margin, that one was scarcely conscious of + his upward movement, until looking behind him, he saw how far below lay + the waters which he had lately left. + </p> + <p> + The pathway, which had been often trodden, was very distinctly marked to + the eyes of our two friends on the opposite elevation, and they could also + perceive where the same footpath extended on either hand a few yards from + the lake, so as to enable the wanderer to prolong his rambles, on either + side, until reaching the foot of the abrupt masses of rock which + distinguished the opposite margin of the basin. To ascend these, on that + side, was a work of toil, which none but the lover of the picturesque is + often found willing to encounter. Above, even to the eyes of our friends, + though they occupied an eminence, the skies seemed circumscribed to the + circumference of the lake and the hills by which it was surrounded; and + the appearance of the whole region, therefore, was that of a complete + amphitheatre, the lake being the floor, the hills the mighty pillars, and + the roof, the blue, bright, fretted canopy of heaven. + </p> + <p> + “I have missed you, my son, for some time past, and the beauty of the + picture reminds me of what your seeming neglect has made me lose. When I + was a young man I would have preferred to visit such a spot as this alone. + But the sense of desolation presses heavily upon an old man under any + circumstances; and he seeks for the company of the young, as if to + freshen, with sympathy and memory, the cheerlessness and decay which + attends all his own thoughts and fancies. To come alone into the woods, + even though the scene I look on be as fair as this, makes me moody and + awakens gloomy imaginations; and since you have been so long absent, I + have taken to my books again, and given up the woods. Ah! books, alone, + never desert us; never prove unfaithful; never chide us; never mock us, as + even these woods do, with the memory of baffled hopes, and dreams of + youth, gone, never to return again. + </p> + <p> + “I trust, my dear sir, you do not think me ungrateful. I have not wilfully + neglected you. More than once I set out to visit you; but my heart was so + full—I was so very unhappy—that I had not the spirit for it. I + felt that I should not be any company for you, and feared that I would + only affect you with some of my own dullness.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that should be no fear with you, my dear boy, for you should know + that the very sorrows of youth, as they awaken the sympathies of age, + provide it with the means of excitement. It is the misfortune of age that + its interest is slow to kindle. Whatever excites the pulse, if not + violently, is beneficial to the heart of the old man. But these sorrows of + yours, my son—do you not call them by too strong a name? I suspect + they are nothing more than the discontents, the vague yearnings of the + young and ardent nature, such as prompt enterprise and lead to nobleness. + If you had them not, you would think of little else than how to squat with + your cousin there, seeking to entrap your dinner; nay, not so much—you + would think only of the modes of cooking and the delight of eating the + fish, and shrink from the toil of taking it. Do not deceive yourself. This + sorrow which distresses you is possibly a beneficial sorrow. It is the + hope which is in you to be something—to DO something—for this + DOING is after all, and before all, the great object of living. The hope + of the heart is always a discontent—most generally a wholesome + discontent—sometimes a noble discontent leading to nobleness. It is + to be satisfied rather than nursed. You must do what it requires.” + </p> + <p> + “I know not what it requires.” + </p> + <p> + “Your DOING then must be confined at present to finding out what that is.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir, it seems to me as if I could no more THINK than I can DO” + </p> + <p> + “Very likely;—that is the case at present; and there are several + reasons for this feebleness. The energies which have not yet been tasked, + do not know well how to begin. You have been a favored boy. Your wants + have been well provided for. Your parents have loved you only too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Too much! Why, even now, I am met with cold looks and reproachful words, + on account of this stranger, of whom nobody knows anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Even so: suppose that to be the case, my son; still it does not alter the + truth of what I say. You can not imagine that your parents prefer this + stranger to yourself, unless you imagine them to have undergone a very + sudden change of character. They have always treated you tenderly—too + tenderly.” + </p> + <p> + “Too tenderly, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, William, too tenderly. Their tenderness has enfeebled you, and that + is the reason you know not in what way to begin to dissipate your doubts, + and apply your energies. If they reproach you, that is because they have + some interest in you, and a right in you, which constitutes their + interest. If they treat the stranger civilly, it is because he is a + stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir, but what if they give this stranger authority to question and to + counsel me? Is not this a cruel indignity?” + </p> + <p> + “Softly, William, softly! There is something at the bottom of this which I + do not see, and which perhaps you do not see. If your parents employ a + stranger to counsel you, it proves that something in your conduct leads + them to think that you need counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be, sir; but why not give it themselves? why employ a person of + whom nobody knows anything?” + </p> + <p> + “I infer from your tone, my son, rather than your words, that you have + some dislike to this stranger. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir—” was the beginning of the young man's reply, but he + stopped short with a guilty consciousness. A warm blush overspread his + cheek, and he remained silent. The old man, without seeming to perceive + the momentary interruption, or the confusion which followed it, proceeded + in his commentary. + </p> + <p> + “There should be nothing, surely, to anger you in good counsel, spoken + even by a stranger, my son; and even where the counsel be not good, if the + motive be so, it requires our gratitude though it may not receive our + adoption.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, sir, but it seems to me very strange, and is very + humiliating, that I should be required to submit to the instructions of + one of whom we know nothing, and who is scarcely older than myself.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be mortifying to your self-esteem, my son, but self-esteem, when + too active, is compelled constantly to suffer this sort of mortification. + It may be that one man shall not be older in actual years than another, + yet be able to teach that other. Merely living, days and weeks and months, + constitutes no right to wisdom: it is the crowding events and experience—the + indefatigable industry—the living actively and well—that + supply us with the materials for knowing and teaching. In comparison with + millions of your own age, who have lived among men, and shared in their + strifes and troubles, you would find yourself as feeble a child as ever + yet needed the helping hand of counsel and guardianship; and this brings + me back to what I said before. Your parents have treated you too tenderly. + They have done everything for you. You have done nothing for yourself. + They provide for your wants, hearken to your complaints, nurture you in + sickness, with a diseasing fondness, and so render you incapable. Hence it + is, that, in the toils of manhood, you do not know how to begin. You lack + courage and perseverance.” + </p> + <p> + “Courage and perseverance!” was the surprised exclamation of the youth. + </p> + <p> + “Precisely, and lest I should offend you, my son, I must acknowledge to + you beforehand, that this very deficiency was my own.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours, sir? I can not think it. What! lack courage?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir—did I not see you myself, when everybody else looked on + with trembling and with terror, throw yourself in the way of Drummond's + horses and save the poor boy from being dashed to pieces? There was surely + no lack of courage there!” + </p> + <p> + “No! in that sense, my son, I labor under no deficiency. But this sort of + courage is of the meanest kind. It is the courage of impulse, not of + steadfastness. Hear me, William. You have more than once allowed the + expression of a wonder to escape you, why a man, having such a passion for + books and study, and with the appearance of mental resources, such as I am + supposed to possess, should be content, retiring from the great city, to + set up his habitation in this remote and obscure region. My chosen + profession was the law; I was no unfaithful student. True, I had no + parents to lament my wanderings and failures; but I did not wander. I + studied closely, with a degree of diligence which seemed to surprise all + my companions. I was ambitious—intensely ambitious. My head ran upon + the strifes of the forum, its exciting contests of mind and soul—its + troubles, its triumphs. This was my leading thought—it was my only + passion. The boy-frenzies for women, which are prompted less by sentiment + or judgment, than by feverish blood, troubled me little. Law was my + mistress—took up all my time—absorbed all my devotion. I + believe that I was a good lawyer—no pettifogger—the merely + drilled creature who toils for his license, and toils for ever after + solely for his petty gains, in the miserably petty arts of making gains + for others, and eluding the snares set for his own feet by kindred + spirits. As far as the teaching of this country could afford me the means + and opportunity, I endeavored to procure a knowledge of universal law—its + sources—its true objects—its just principles—its + legitimate dicta. Mere authorities never satisfied me, unless, passing + behind the black gowns, I could follow up the reasoning to the first + fountains—the small original truths, the nicely discriminated + requisitions of immutable justice—the clearly-defined and inevitable + wants of a superior and prosperous society. Everything that could + illustrate law as well as fortify it; every collateral aid, in the shape + of history or moral truth, I gathered together, even as the dragoon whose + chief agent is his sabre, yet takes care to provide himself with pistols, + that may finish what the other weapon has begun. Nor did I content myself + with the mere acquisition of the necessary knowledge. Knowing how much + depends upon voice, manner and fluency, in obtaining success before a + jury, I addressed myself to these particulars with equal industry. My + voice, even now, has a compass which your unexercised lungs, though quite + as good originally as mine, would fail entirely to contend with. I do not + deceive myself, as I certainly do not seek to deceive you, when I say, + that I acquired the happiest mastery over my person.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! sir—we see that now—that must have been the case!” said + the youth interrupting him. The other continued, sadly smiling as he heard + the eulogy which the youth meant to speak, the utterance of which was + obviously from the heart. + </p> + <p> + “My voice was taught by various exercises to be slow or rapid, soft or + strong, harsh or musical, by the most sudden, yet unnoticeable + transitions. I practised all the arts, which are recommended by + elocutionists for this purpose, I rumbled my eloquence standing on the + seashore, up to my middle in the breakers. I ran, roaring up steep hills—I + stretched myself at length by the side of meandering brooks, or in + slumberous forests of pine, and sought, by the merest whispers, to express + myself with distinctness and melody. But there was something yet more + requisite than these, and this was language. My labors to obtain all the + arts of utterance did not seem less successful. I could dilate with + singular fluency, with classical propriety, and great natural vigor of + expression. I studied directness of expression by a frequent intercourse + with men of business, and examined, with the nicest urgency, the + particular characteristics of those of my own profession who were most + remarkable for their plain, forcible speaking. I say nothing of my studies + of such great masters in discourse and philosophy, as Milton, Shakspere, + Homer, Lord Bacon, and the great English divines. As a model of pure + English the Bible was a daily study of two hours; and from this noble well + of vernacular eloquence, I gathered—so I fancied—no small + portion of its quaint expressive vigor, its stern emphasis, its golden and + choice phrases of illustration. Never did a young lawyer go into the forum + more thoroughly clad in proof, or with a better armory as well for defence + as attack.” + </p> + <p> + “You did not fail, sir?” exclaimed the youth with a painful expression of + eager anxiety upon his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “I did fail—fail altogether! In the first effort to speak, I + fainted, and was carried lifeless from the court-room.” + </p> + <p> + The old man covered his face with his hands, for a few moments, to conceal + the expression of pain and mortification which memory continued to renew + in utter despite of time. The young man's hand rested affectionately on + his shoulder. A few moments sufficed to enable the former to renew his + narrative. + </p> + <p> + “I was stunned but not crushed by this event. I knew my own resources. I + recollected a similar anecdote of Sheridan; of his first attempt and + wretched failure. I, too, felt that 'I had it in me,' and though I did not + express, I made the same resolution, that 'I would bring it out.' But + Sheridan and myself failed from different causes, though I did not + understand this at that time. He had a degree of hardihood which I had + not; and he utterly lacked my sensibilities. The very intenseness of my + ambition; the extent of my expectation; the elevated estimate which I had + made of my own profession; of its exactions; and, again, of what was + expected from me; were all so many obstacles to my success. I did not so + esteem them, then; and after renewing my studies in private, my exercises + of expression and manner, and going through a harder course of drilling, I + repeated the attempt to suffer a repetition of the failure. I did not + again faint, but I was speechless. I not only lost the power of utterance, + but I lost the corresponding faculty of sight. My eyes were completely + dazed and confounded. The objects of sight around me were as crowded and + confused as the far, dim ranges of figures, tribes upon tribes, and + legions upon legions, which struggle in obscurity and distance, in any one + of the begrimed and blurred pictures of Martin's Pandemonium. My second + failure was a more enfeebling disaster than the first. The first procured + me the sympathy of my audience, the last exposed me to its ridicule.” + </p> + <p> + Again the old man paused. By this time, the youth had got one of his arms + about the neck of the speaker, and had taken one of his hands within his + grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Yours is a generous nature, William,” said Mr. Calvert, “and I have not + said to you, until to-day, how grateful your boyish sympathies have been + to me from the first day when you became my pupil. It is my knowledge of + these sympathies, and a desire to reward them, that prompts me to tell a + story which still brings its pains to memory, and which would be given to + no other ears than your own. I see that you are eager for the rest—for + the wretched sequel.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! sir—do not tell me any more of it if it brings you pain. I + confess I should like to know all, but—” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it all, my son. My purpose would not be answered unless I + finished the narrative. You will gather from it, very possibly, the moral + which I could not. You will comprehend something better, the woful + distinction between courage of the blood and courage of the brain; between + the mere recklessness of brute impulse, and the steady valor of the soul—that + valor, which, though it trembles, marches forward to the attack—recovers + from its fainting, to retrieve its defeat; and glows with self-indignation + because it has suffered the moment of victory to pass, without employing + itself to secure the boon!— + </p> + <p> + “Shame, and a natural desire to retrieve myself, operated to make me renew + my efforts. I need not go through the processes by which I endeavored to + acquire the necessary degree of hardihood. In vain did I recall the fact + that my competitors were notoriously persons far inferior to me in + knowledge of the topics; far inferior in the capacity to analyze them; + rude and coarse in expression; unfamiliar with the language—mere + delvers and diggers in a science in which I secretly felt that I should be + a master. In vain did I recall to mind the fact that I knew the community + before which I was likely to speak; I knew its deficiencies; knew the + inferiority of its idols, and could and should have no sort of fear of its + criticism. But it was myself that I feared. I had mistaken the true + censor. It was my own standards of judgment that distressed and made me + tremble. It was what I expected of myself—what I thought should be + expected of me—that made my weak soul recoil in terror from the + conviction that I must fail in its endeavor to reach the point which my + ambitious soul strove to attain. The fear, in such cases, produced the + very disaster, from the anticipated dread of which it had arisen. I again + failed—failed egregiously—failed utterly and for ever! I never + again attempted the fearful trial. I gave up the contest, yielded the + field to my inferiors, better-nerved, though inferior, and, with all my + learning, all my eloquence, my voice, my manner; my resources of study, + thought, and utterance, fled from sight—fled here—to bury + myself in the wilderness, and descend to the less ambitious, but less + dangerous vocation of schooling—I trust, to better uses—the + minds of others. I had done nothing with my own.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, do not say so. Though you may have failed in one department of + human performance, you have succeeded in others. You have lost none of the + knowledge which you then acquired. You possess all the gifts of eloquence, + of manner, of voice, of education, of thought.” + </p> + <p> + “But of what use, my son? Remember, we do not toil for these possessions + to lock them up—to content ourselves, as the miserable miser, with + the consciousness that we possess a treasure known to ourselves only—useless + to all others as to ourselves! Learning, like love, like money, derives + its true value from its circulation.” + </p> + <p> + “And you circulate yours, my dear sir. What do we not owe you in + Charlemont? What do I not owe you, over all?” + </p> + <p> + “Love, my son—love only. Pay me that. Do not desert me in my old + age. Do not leave me utterly alone!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not, sir—I never thought to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the old man, “to resume. Why did I fail is still the question. + Because I had not been taught those lessons of steady endurance in my + youth which would have strengthened me against failure, and enable me + finally to triumph. There is a rich significance in what we hear of the + Spartan boy, who never betrayed his uneasiness or agony though the fox was + tearing out his bowels. There is a sort of moral roughening which boys + should be made to endure from the beginning, if the hope is ever + entertained, to mature their minds to intellectual manhood. Our American + Indians prescribe the same laws, and in their practice, very much resemble + the ancient Spartans. To bear fatigue, and starvation, and injury—exposure, + wet, privation, blows—but never to complain. Nothing betrays so + decidedly the lack of moral courage as the voice of complaint. It is + properly the language of woman. It must not be your language. Do you + understand me, William?” + </p> + <p> + “In part, sir, but I do not see how I could have helped being what I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not, because few have control of their own education. Your + parents have been too tender of you. They have not lessoned you in that + proper hardihood which leads to performance. That task is before yourself, + and you have shrunk from the first lessons.” + </p> + <p> + “How, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Instead of clinging to your Blackstone, you have allowed yourself to be + seduced from its pages, by such attractions as usually delude boys. The + eye and lip of a pretty woman—a bright eye and a rosy cheek, have + diverted you from your duties.” + </p> + <p> + “But do our duties deny us the indulgence of proper sensibilities?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not—PROPER sensibilities, on the contrary, prescribe our + duties.” + </p> + <p> + “But love, sir—is not love a proper sensibility?” + </p> + <p> + “In its place, it is. But you are a boy only. Do you suppose that it was + ever intended that you should entertain this passion before you had + learned the art of providing your own food? Not so; and the proof of this + is to be found in the fact that the loves of boyhood are never of a + permanent character. No such passion can promote happiness if it is + indulged before the character of the parties is formed. I now tell you + that in five years from this time you will probably forget Miss Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “Never! never!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well—I go farther in my prophecy. Allow me to suppose you + successful in your suit, which I fancy can never be the case—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because she is not the girl for you; or rather, she does not think you + the man for her!” + </p> + <p> + “But why do you think so, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I know you both. There are circumstances of discrepancy between + you which will prevent it, and even were you to be successful in your + suit, which I am very sure will never be the case, you would be the most + miserably-matched couple under the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, do not say so—do not. I can not think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You WILL not think so, I am certain. I am equally certain from what I + know of you both, that you are secure from any such danger. It is not my + object to pursue this reference, but let me ask you, William, looking at + things in the most favorable light, has Margaret Cooper ever given you any + encouragement?” + </p> + <p> + “I can not say that she has, sir, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, has she not positively discouraged you? Does she not avoid you—treat + you coldly when you meet—say little, and that little of a kind to + denote—I will not say dislike—but pride, rather than love?” + </p> + <p> + The young man said nothing. The old one proceeded:— + </p> + <p> + “You are silent, and I am answered. I have long watched your intercourse + with this damsel, and loving you as my own son, I have watched it with + pain. She is not for you, William. She loves you not. I am sure of it. I + can not mistake the signs. She seeks other qualities than such as you + possess. She seeks meretricious qualities, and yours are substantial. She + seeks the pomps of mind, rather than its subdued performances. She sees + not, and can not see, your worth; and whenever you propose to her, your + suit will be rejected. You have not done so yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir—but I had hoped—” + </p> + <p> + “I am no enemy, believe me, William, when I implore you to discard your + hope in that quarter. It will do you no hurt. Your heart will suffer no + detriment, but be as whole and vigorous a few years hence—perhaps + months—as if it had never suffered any disappointment.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could think so, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would not wish that you could think so, if you were not already + persuaded that your first wish is hopeless.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not hopeless, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Your cause is. But, promise me that you will not press your suit at + present.” + </p> + <p> + The young man was silent. + </p> + <p> + “You hesitate.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you are a foolish boy. Do you not see the rock on which you are about + to split. You have never learned how to submit. This lesson of submission + was that which made the Spartan boy famous. Here, you persist in your + purpose, though your own secret convictions, as well as your friend's + counsel, tell you that you strive against hope. You could not patiently + submit to the counsel of this stranger, though he came directly from your + parents, armed with authority to examine and to counsel.” + </p> + <p> + “Submit to him! I would sooner perish!” exclaimed the indignant youth. + </p> + <p> + “You will perish unless you learn this one lesson. But where now is your + ambition, and what does it aim at?” + </p> + <p> + The youth was silent. + </p> + <p> + “The idea of an ambitious youth, at twenty, giving up book and candle, + leaving his studies, and abandoning himself to despair, because his + sweetheart won't be his sweetheart any longer, gives us a very queer idea + of the sort of ambition which works in his breast.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't, sir, don't, I pray you, speak any more in this manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, but, William, ask yourself. Is it not a queer idea?” + </p> + <p> + “Spare me, sir, if you love me.” + </p> + <p> + “I do love you, and to show you that I do, I now recommend to you to + propose to Margaret Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “What, sir, you do not think it utterly hopeless then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do.” + </p> + <p> + “And you would have me expose myself to rejection?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly so!” + </p> + <p> + “Really, sir, I do not understand you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I will explain. Nothing short of rejection will possibly cure you + of this malady; and it is of the last importance to your future career, + that you should be freed as soon as possible from this sickly condition of + thought and feeling—a condition in which your mind will do nothing, + and in which your best days will be wasted. Blackstone can only hope to be + taken up when you have done with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, sir—that is she below.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret——” + </p> + <p> + “Who is with her?” + </p> + <p> + “The stranger—this man, Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! your counsellor, that would be? Ah! William, you did not tell me + all.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. — THE ENTHUSIAST. + </h2> + <p> + The cheeks of the youth glowed. He felt how much he had suppressed in his + conference with his venerable counsellor. Mr. Calvert did not press the + topic, and the two remained silent, looking down, from the shaded spot + where they lay, upon the progress of Margaret Cooper and her present + attendant, Stevens. The eminence on which they rested was sufficiently + lofty, as we have seen, to enable them, though themselves almost concealed + from sight, to take in the entire scene, not only below but around them; + and the old man, sharing now in the interest of his young companion, + surveyed the progress of the new-comers with a keen sense of curiosity + which, for a time, kept him silent. The emotions of William Hinkley were + such as to deprive him of all desire for speech; and each, accordingly, + found sufficient employment in brooding over his own awakened fancies. + Even had they spoken in the ordinary tone of their voices, the sounds + could not have reached the persons approaching on the opposite side. They + drew nigh, evidently unconscious that the scene was occupied by any other + than themselves. Ned Hinkley was half-shrouded in the shrubbery that + environed the jutting crag upon which his form was crouched, and they were + not yet sufficiently nigh to the tarn to perceive his projecting rod, and + the gaudy fly which he kept skipping about upon the surface. The walk + which they pursued was an ancient Indian footpath, which had without doubt + conducted the red warriors, a thousand times before, to a spot of + seclusion and refreshment after their long day's conflict on the “DARK AND + BLOODY GROUND.” It was narrow and very winding, and had been made so in + order to lessen the fatigue of an ascent which, though gradual enough, was + yet considerable, and would have produced great weariness, finally, had + the pathway been more direct. + </p> + <p> + The circuitousness of this route, which lay clear enough before the eyes + of our two friends upon the eminence—crawling, as it did, up the + woodland slopes with the sinuous course of a serpent—was yet visible + to Ned Hinkley, on his lowlier perch, only at its starting-point, upon the + very margin of the lake. He, accordingly, saw as little of the approaching + persons as they had seen of him. They advanced slowly, and seemed to be + mutually interested in their subject of conversation. The action of + Stevens was animated; The air and attitude of Margaret Cooper was that of + interest and attention. It was with something little short of agony that + William Hinkley beheld them pause upon occasion, and confront each other + as if the topic was of a nature to arrest the feet and demand the whole + fixed attention of the hearer. + </p> + <p> + It will be conjectured that Alfred Stevens had pressed his opportunities + with no little industry. Enough has been shown to account for the + readiness of that reception which Margaret Cooper was prepared to give + him. Her intelligence was keen, quick, and penetrating. She discovered at + a glance, not his hypocrisy, but that his religious enthusiasm was not of + a sort to become very tyrannical. The air of mischief which was expressed + upon his face when the venerable John Cross proposed to purge her library + of its obnoxious contents, commended him to her as a sort of ally; and the + sympathy with herself, which such a conjecture promised, made her + forgetful of the disingenuousness of his conduct if her suspicions were + true. But there were some other particulars which, in her mind, tended to + dissipate the distance between them. She recognised the individual. She + remembered the bold, dashing youth, who, a few months before, had + encountered her on the edge of the village, and, after they had parted, + had ridden back to the spot where she still loitered, for a second look. + To that very spot had she conducted him on their ramble that afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know this place, Mr. Stevens?” she demanded with an arch smile, + sufficiently good-humored to convince the adventurer that, if she had any + suspicions, they were not of a nature to endanger his hopes. + </p> + <p> + “Do I not!” he said, with an air of EMPRESSMENT which caused her to look + down. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I recollected you,” she said, a moment after. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! may I hope that I did not then offend you with my impertinence? But + the truth is, I was so struck—pardon me if I say it—with the + singular and striking difference between the group of damsels I had seen + and THE ONE—the surprise was so great—the pleasure so unlooked + for—that—” + </p> + <p> + The eye of Margaret Cooper brightened, her cheek glowed, and her form rose + somewhat proudly. The arch-hypocrite paused judiciously, and she spoke:— + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, Mr. Stevens, these fine speeches do not pass current. You would + make the same upon occasion to any one of the said group of damsels, were + you to be her escort.” + </p> + <p> + “But I would scarcely ride back for a second look,” he responded, in a + subdued tone of voice, while looking with sad expressiveness into her + eyes. These were cast down upon the instant, and the color upon her cheeks + was heightened. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” said she, making an effort, “there is nothing here to interest + us.” + </p> + <p> + “Except memory,” he replied; “I shall never forget the spot.” + </p> + <p> + She hurried forward, and he joined her. She had received the impression + which he intended to convey, without declaring as much—namely, that + his return to Charlemont had been prompted by that one glimpse which he + had then had of her person. Still, that nothing should be left in doubt, + he proceeded to confirm the impression by other suggestions:— + </p> + <p> + “You promise to show me a scene of strange beauty, but your whole village + is beautiful, Miss Cooper. I remember how forcibly it struck me as I + gained the ascent of the opposite hills coming in from the east. It was + late in the day, the sun was almost setting, and his faintest but + loveliest beams fell upon the cottages in the valley, and lay with a + strange, quiet beauty among the grass-plats, and the flower-ranges, and + upon the neat, white palings.” + </p> + <p> + “It is beautiful,” she said with a sigh, “but its beauty does not content + me. It is too much beauty; it is too soft; for, though it has its rocks + and huge trees, yet it lacks wildness and sublimity. The rocks are not + sufficiently abrupt, the steeps not sufficiently great; there are no + chasms, no waterfalls—only purling brooks and quiet walks.” + </p> + <p> + “I have felt this already,” he replied; “but there is yet a deficiency + which you have not expressed, Miss Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It is the moral want. You have no life here; and that which would least + content me would be this very repose—the absence of provocation—the + strife—the triumph! These, I take it, are the deficiencies which you + really feel when you speak of the want of crag, and chasm, and waterfall.” + </p> + <p> + “You, too, are ambitious, then!” she said quickly; “but how do you + reconcile this feeling with your profession?” + </p> + <p> + She looked up, and caught his eye tenderly fixed upon her. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said he, “Miss Cooper, there are some situations in which we find it + easy to reconcile all discrepancies.” + </p> + <p> + If the language lacked explicitness, the look did not. He proceeded:— + </p> + <p> + “If I mistake not, Miss Cooper, you will be the last one to blame me for + not having stifled my ambition, even at the calls of duty and profession.” + </p> + <p> + “Blame you, sir? Far from it. I should think you very unfortunate indeed, + if you could succeed in stifling ambition at any calls, nor do I exactly + see how duty should require it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I pursue the profession of the divine?” he answered hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—perhaps—but that is not certain?” There was some timidity + in the utterance of this inquiry. He evaded it. + </p> + <p> + “I know not yet what I shall be,” he replied with an air of self-reproach; + “I fear I have too much of this fiery ardor which we call ambition to + settle down into the passive character of the preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not, do not!” she exclaimed impetuously; then, as if conscious of + the impropriety, she stopped short in the sentence, while increasing her + forward pace. + </p> + <p> + “What!” said he, “you think that would effectually stifle it?” + </p> + <p> + “Would it not—does it not in most men?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps; but this depends upon the individual. Churchmen have a great + power—the greatest in any country.” + </p> + <p> + “Over babes and sucklings!” she said scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “And, through these; over the hearts of men and women.” + </p> + <p> + “But these, too, are babes and sucklings—people to be scared by + shadows—the victims of their own miserable fears and superstitions!” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, these confer power. Where there is power, there is room for + ambition. You recollect that churchmen have put their feet upon the necks + of princes.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but that was when there was one church only in Christendom. It was a + monopoly, and consequently a tyranny. Now there are a thousand, always in + conflict, and serving very happily to keep each other from mischief. They + no longer put their feet on princes' necks, though I believe that the + princes are no better off for this forbearance—there are others who + do. But only fancy that this time was again, and think of the comical + figure our worthy brother John Cross would make, mounting from such a + noble horse-block!” + </p> + <p> + The idea was sufficiently pleasant to make Stevens laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I shall have greater trouble in converting you, Miss Cooper, + than any other of the flock in Charlemont. I doubt that your heart is + stubborn—that you are an insensible!” + </p> + <p> + “I insensible!” she exclaimed, and with such a look! The expression of + sarcasm had passed, as with the rapidity of a lightning-flash, from her + beautiful lips; and a silent tear rose, tremulous and large, with the same + instantaneous emotion, beneath her long, dark eyelashes. She said nothing + more, but, with eyes cast down, went forward. Stevens was startled with + the suddenness of these transitions. They proved, at least, how completely + her mind was at the control of her blood. Hitherto, he had never met with + a creature so liberally endowed by nature, who was, at the same time, so + perfectly unsophisticated. The subject was gratifying as a study alone, + even if it conferred no pleasure, and awakened no hopes. + </p> + <p> + “Do not mistake me,” he exclaimed, hurrying after, “I had no purpose to + impute to you any other insensibility except to that of the holy truths of + religion.” + </p> + <p> + She looked up and smiled archly. There was another transition from cloud + to sunlight. + </p> + <p> + “What! are you so doubtful of your own ministry?” + </p> + <p> + “In your case, I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “You will force me to betake myself to studies more severe than any I have + yet attempted.” + </p> + <p> + She was flattered but she uttered a natural disclaimer. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! I am presumptuous. I trust you will teach me. Begin—do not + hesitate—I will listen.” + </p> + <p> + “To move you I must not come in the garments of methodism. That faith will + never be yours.” + </p> + <p> + “What faith shall it be?” + </p> + <p> + “That of Catholicism. I must come armed with authority. I must carry the + sword and keys of St. Peter. I must be sustained by all the pomps of that + church of pomps and triumphs. My divine mission must speak through signs + and symbols, through stately stole, pontifical ornaments, the tiara of + religious state on the day of its most solemn ceremonial; and with these I + must bring the word of power, born equally of intellect and soul, and my + utterance must be in the language of divinest poesy!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you mistake! That last will be enough. Speak to me in poesy—let + me hear that—and you will subdue me, I believe, to any faith that + you teach. For I can not but believe the faith that is endowed with the + faculty of poetic utterance.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth it is a divine utterance—perhaps the only divine + utterance. Would I had it for your sake.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you must have it. I fancy I see it in some things that you have said. + You read poetry, I am sure—I am sure you love it.” + </p> + <p> + “I do! I know not anything that I love half so well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you write it?” she asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No! the gift has been denied me.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with eyes of regret. + </p> + <p> + “How unfortunate,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Doubly so, as the deficiency seems to disappoint you.” + </p> + <p> + She did not seem to heed the flattery of this remark, nor did she appear + to note the expression of face with which it was accompanied. Her feelings + took the ascendency. She spoke out her uncommissioned thoughts and fancies + musingly, as if without the knowledge of her will. + </p> + <p> + “I fancy that I could kneel down and worship the poet, and feel no shame, + no humility. It is the only voice that enchants me—that leads me out + from myself; that carries me where it pleases and finds for me companions + in the solitude; songs in the storm; affections in the barren desert! Even + here, it brings me friends and fellowships. How voiceless would be all + these woods to me had it no voice speaking to, and in, my soul. Hoping + nothing, and performing nothing here, it is my only consolation. It + reconciles me to this wretched spot. It makes endurance tolerable. If it + were not for this companionship—if I heard not this voice in my + sorrows, soothing my desolation, I could freely die!—die here, + beside this rock, without making a struggle to go forward, even to reach + the stream that flows quietly beyond!” + </p> + <p> + She had stopped in her progress while this stream of enthusiasm poured + from her lips. Her action was suited to her utterance. Unaccustomed to + restraint—nay, accustomed only to pour herself forth to woods, and + trees, and waters, she was scarcely conscious of the presence of any other + companion, yet she looked even while she spoke, in the eyes of Stevens. He + gazed on her with glances of unconcealed admiration. The unsophisticated + nature which led her to express that enthusiasm which a state of + conventional existence prompts us, through fear of ridicule, industriously + to conceal, struck him with the sense of a new pleasure. The novelty alone + had its charm; but there were other sources of delight. The natural grace + and dignity of the enthusiastic girl, adapting to such words the + appropriate action, gave to her beauty, which was now in its first bloom, + all the glow which is derived from intellectual inspiration. Her whole + person spoke. All was vital, spiritual, expressive, animated; and when the + last word lingered on her lips, Stevens could scarcely repress the impulse + which prompted him to clasp her in his embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret!” he exclaimed—“Miss Cooper!—you are yourself a + poet!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” she murmured, rather than spoke;—“would I were!—a + dreamer only—a self-deluded dreamer.” + </p> + <p> + “You can not deceive me!” he continued, “I see it in your eyes, your + action; I hear it in your words. I can not be deceived. You are a poet—you + will, and must be one!” + </p> + <p> + “And if I were!” she said mournfully, “of what avail would it be here? + What heart in this wilderness would be touched by song of mine? Whose ear + could I soothe in this cold and sterile hamlet? Where would be the temple—who + the worshippers—even were the priestess all that her vanity would + believe, or her prayers and toils might make her? No, no! I am no poet; + and if I were, better that the flame should go out—vanish altogether + in the smoke of its own delusions—than burn with a feeble light, + unseen, untrimmed, unhonored—perhaps, beheld with the scornful eye + of vulgar and unappreciating ignorance!” + </p> + <p> + “Such is not your destiny, Margaret Cooper,” replied Stevens, using the + freedom of address, perhaps unconsciously, which the familiarity of + country life is sometimes found to tolerate. “Such is not your destiny, + Margaret. The flame will not go out—it will be loved and + worshipped!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! never! what is here to justify such a hope—such a dream?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing HERE; but it was not of Charlemont I spoke. The destiny which has + endowed you with genius will not leave it to be extinguished here. There + will come a worshipper, Margaret. There will come one, equally capable to + honor the priestess and to conduct her to befitting altars. This is not + your home, though it may have been your place of trial and novitiate. + Here, without the restraint of cold, oppressive, social forms, your genius + has ripened—your enthusiasm has been kindled into proper glow—your + heart, and mind, and imagination, have kept equal pace to an equal + maturity! Perhaps this was fortunate. Had you grown up in more polished + and worldly circles, you would have been compelled to subdue the feelings + and fancies which now make your ordinary language the language of a muse.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! speak not so, I implore you. I am afraid you mock me.” + </p> + <p> + “No! on my soul, I do not. I think all that I say. More than that, I feel + it, Margaret. Trust to me—confide in me—make me your friend! + Believe me, I am not altogether what I seem.” + </p> + <p> + An arch smile once more possessed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I could guess that! But sit you here. Here is a flower—a + beautiful, small flower, with a dark blue eye. See it—how humbly it + hides amid the grass. It is the last flower if the season. I know not its + name. I am no botanist; but it is beautiful without a name, and it is the + last flower of the season. Sit down on this rock, and I will sing you + Moore's beautiful song, ''Tis the last of its kindred.'” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sing me something of your own, Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Don't speak of me, and mine, in the same breath with Moore. You + will make me repent of having seen you. Sit down and be content with + Moore, or go without your song altogether.” + </p> + <p> + He obeyed her, and the romantic and enthusiastic girl, seating herself + upon a fragment of rock beside the path, sang the delicate and sweet + verses of the Irish poet, with a natural felicity of execution, which + amply compensated for the absence of those Italian arts, which so + frequently elevate the music at the expense of the sentiment. Stevens + looked and listened, and half forgot himself in the breathlessness of his + attention—his eye fastened with a gaze of absolute devotion on her + features, until, having finished her song, she detected the expression of + his face, and started, with blushing cheeks, to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! sweet!” he murmured as he offered to take her hand, but she darted + forward, and following her, he found himself a few moments after, standing + by her side, and looking down upon one of the loveliest lakes that ever + slept in the embrace of jealous hills. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. — A CATASTROPHE. + </h2> + <p> + “You disparage these scenes,” said Stevens, after several moments had been + given to the survey of that before him, “and yet you have drawn your + inspiration from them—the fresh food which stimulates poetry and + strengthens enthusiasm. Here you learned to be contemplative; and here, in + solitude, was your genius nursed. Do not be ungrateful, Margaret—you + owe to these very scenes all that you are, and all that you may become.” + </p> + <p> + “Stay! before I answer. Do you see yon bird?” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “In the west—there!” she pointed with her fingers, catching his + wrist unconsciously, at the same time, with the other hand, as if more + certainly to direct his gaze. + </p> + <p> + “I see it—what bird is it?” + </p> + <p> + “An eagle! See how it soars and swings; effortless, as if supported by + some external power!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed—it seems small for an eagle.” + </p> + <p> + “It is one nevertheless! There are thousands of them that roost among the + hills in that quarter. I know the place thoroughly. The heights are the + greatest that we have in the surrounding country. The distance from this + spot is about five miles. He, no doubt, has some fish, or bird now within + his talons, with which to feed his young. He will feed them, and they will + grow strong, and will finally use their own wings. Shall he continue to + feed them after that? Must they never seek their own food?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely they must.” + </p> + <p> + “If these solitudes have nursed me, must they continue to nurse me always? + Must I never use the wings to which they have given vigor? Must I never + employ the sight to which they have imparted vigilance? Must I never go + forth, and strive and soar, and make air, and earth, and sea, tributary to + my wing and eye? Alas! I am a woman!—and her name is weakness! You + tell me of what I am, and of what I may become. But what am I? I mock + myself too often with this question to believe all your fine speeches. And + what may I become? Alas! who can tell me that? I know my strength, but I + also know my weakness. I feel the burning thoughts of my brain; I feel the + yearning impulses in my heart; but they bring nothing—they promise + nothing—I feel the pang of constant denial. I feel that I can be + nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “Say not so, Margaret—think not so, I beseech you. With your genius, + your enthusiasm—your powers of expression—there is nothing, + becoming in your sex, and worthy of it, which you may not be.” + </p> + <p> + “You can not deceive me! It might be so, if this were Italy; there, where + the very peasant burns with passion, and breathes his feeblest and meanest + thoughts and desires in song. But here, they already call me mad! They + look on me as one doomed to Bedlam. They avoid me with sentiments and + looks of distrust, if not of fear; and when I am looking into the cloud, + striving to pierce, with dilating eye its wild yellow flashing centres, + they draw their flaxen-headed infants to their breasts, and mutter their + thanks to God, that he has not, in a fit of wrath, made them to resemble + me! If, forgetful of earth, and trees, and the human stocks around me, I + pour forth the language of the great song-masters, they grin at my + insanity—they hold me incapable of reason, and declare their ideas + of what that is, by asking who knows most of the dairy, the cabbage-patch, + the spinning-wheel, the darning-needle—who can best wash Polly's or + Patty's face and comb its head—can chop up sausage-meat the finest—make + the lightest paste, and more economically dispense the sugar in serving up + the tea! and these are what is expected of woman! These duties of the + meanest slave! From her mind nothing is expected. Her enthusiasm + terrifies, her energy offends, and if her taste is ever challenged, it is + to the figures upon a quilt or in a flower-garden, where the passion seems + to be to make flowers grow in stars, and hearts, and crescents. What has + woman to expect where such are the laws; where such are the expectations + from her? What am I to hope? I, who seem to be set apart—to feel + nothing like the rest—to live in a different world—to dream of + foreign things—to burn with a hope which to them is frenzy, and + speak a language which they neither understand nor like! What can I be, in + such a world? Nothing, nothing! I do not deceive myself. I can never hope + to be anything.” + </p> + <p> + Her enthusiasm hurried her forward. In spite of himself, Stevens was + impressed. He ceased to think of his evil purposes in the superior + thoughts which her wild, unregulated energy inspired. He scarcely + wondered, indeed—if it were true—that her neighbors fancied + her insane. The indignation of a powerful mind denied—denied justice—baffled + in its aims—conscious of the importance of all its struggles against + binding and blinding circumstances—is akin to insanity!—is apt + to express itself in the defiant tones of a fierce and feverish frenzy. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret,” said he, as she paused and waited for him, “you are not right + in everything. You forget that your lonely little village of Charlemont, + is not only not the world, but that it is not even an American world. + America is not Italy, I grant you, nor likely soon to become so; but if + you fancy there are not cities even in our country, where genius such as + yours would be felt and worshipped, you are mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you believe there are such?” she demanded incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “I KNOW there are!” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! I know better. You can not deceive me. It can not be so. I know + the sort of genius which is popular in those cities. It is the gentleman + and lady genius. Look at their verses for example. I can show you + thousands of such things that come to us here, from all quarters of the + Union—verses written by nice people—people of small tastes and + petty invention, who would not venture upon the utterance of a noble + feeling, or a bold sentiment of originality, for fear of startling the + fashionable nerves with the strong words which such a novelty would + require. Consider, in the first place, how conclusive it is of the + feeblest sort of genius that these people should employ themselves, from + morning to night, in spinning their small strains, scraps of verse, song, + and sonnet, and invariably on such subjects of commonplace, as can not + admit of originality, and do not therefore task reflection. Not an infant + dies or is born, but is made the subject of verse; nay, its smiles and + tears are put on record; its hobby-horse, and its infant ideas as they + begin to bud and breathe aloud. Then comes the eternal strain about summer + blooms and spring flowers; autumn's melancholy and winter's storms, until + one sickens of the intolerable monotony. Such are the things that your + great cities demand. Such things content them. Speak the fearless and + always strange language of originality and strength, and you confound and + terrify them.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Margaret, these things are held at precisely the same value in the + big cities as they are held by you here in Charlemont. The intelligent + people smile—they do not applaud. If they encourage at all it is by + silence.” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! that you might say, if, unhappily, public opinion did not express + itself. The same magazines which bring us the verses bring us the + criticism.” + </p> + <p> + “That is to say, the editor puffs his contributors, and disparages those + who are not. Look at the rival journal and you will find these denounced + and another set praised and beplastered.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! and what would be my hope, my safety, in communities which tolerate + these things; in which the number of just and sensible people is so small + that they dare not speak, or can not influence those who have better + courage? Where would be my triumphs? I, who would no more subscribe to the + petty tyranny of conventional law, than to that baser despotism which is + wielded by a mercenary editor, in the absence of a stern justice in the + popular mind. Here I may pine to death—there, my heart would burst + with its own convulsions.” + </p> + <p> + “No! Margaret, no! It is because they have not the genius, that such small + birds are let to sing. Let them but hear the true minstrel—let them + but know that there is a muse, and how soon would the senseless twitter + which they now tolerate be hushed in undisturbing silence. In the absence + of better birds they bear with what they have. In the absence of the true + muse they build no temple—they throng not to hear. Nay, even now, + already, they look to the west for the minstrel and the muse—to + these very woods. There is a tacit and universal feeling in the Atlantic + country, that leads them to look with expectation to the Great West, for + the genius whose song is to give us fame. 'When?' is the difficult—the + only question. Ah! might I but say to them—'now'—the muse is + already here!” + </p> + <p> + He took her hand—she did not withhold it; but her look was subdued—the + fires had left her eyes—her whole frame trembled with the recoil of + those feelings—the relaxation of those nerves—the tension of + which we have endeavored feebly to display. Her cheek was no longer + flushed but pale; her lips trembled—her voice was low and faint—only + a broken and imperfect murmur; and her glance was cast upon the ground. + </p> + <p> + “You!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I! Have I not said I am not altogether what I seem? Ah! I may not + yet say more. But I am not without power, Margaret, in other and more + powerful regions. I too have had my triumphs; I too can boast that the + minds of other men hang for judgment upon the utterance of mine.” + </p> + <p> + She looked upward to his glance with a stranger expression of timidity + than her features had before exhibited. The form of Stevens had insensibly + risen in seeming elevation as he spoke, and the expression of his face was + that of a more human pride. He continued:— + </p> + <p> + “My voice is one of authority in circles where yours would be one of equal + attraction and command. I can not promise you an Italian devotion, + Margaret; our people, though sufficiently enthusiastic, are too sensible + to ridicule to let the heart and blood speak out with such freedom as they + use in the warmer regions of the South: but the homage will be more + intellectual, more steady, and the fame more enduring. You must let your + song be heard—you must give me the sweet privilege of making it + known to ears whose very listening is fame.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said, “what you say makes me feel how foolishly I have spoken. + What is my song? what have I done? what am I? what have I to hope? I have + done nothing—I am nothing! I have suffered, like a child, a + miserable vanity to delude me, and I have poured into the ears of a + stranger those ravings which I have hitherto uttered to the hills and + forests. You laugh at me now—you must.” + </p> + <p> + The paleness on her cheek was succeeded by the deepest flush of crimson. + She withdrew her hand from his grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Laugh at you, Margaret! You have awakened my wonder. Struck with you when + we first met—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, no more of that, but let us follow these windings; they lead us to + the tarn. It is the prettiest Indian path, and my favorite spot. Here I + ramble morning and eve, and try to forget those vain imaginings and + foolish strivings of thought which I have just inflicted upon you. The + habit proved too much for my prudence, and I spoke as if you were not + present. Possibly, had you not spoken in reply, I should have continued + until now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did I speak?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it is better. I wish you had spoken sooner. But follow me quickly. + The sunlight is now falling in a particular line which gives us the + loveliest effect, shooting its rays through certain fissures of the rock, + and making a perfect arrow-path along the water. You would fancy that + Apollo had just dismissed a golden shaft from his quiver, so direct is the + levelled light along the surface of the lake.” + </p> + <p> + Speaking thus, they came in sight of the party on the opposite hills, as + we have already shown—without, however, perceiving them in turn. It + will be conjectured without difficulty that, with a nature so full of + impulse, so excitable, as that of Margaret Cooper—particularly in + the company of an adroit man like Stevens, whose purpose was to encourage + her in that language and feeling of egotism which, while it was the most + grateful exercise to herself, was that which most effectually served to + blind her to his designs—her action was always animated, + expressively adapting itself, not only to the words she uttered, but, even + when she did not speak, to the feelings by which she was governed. It was + the art of Stevens to say little except by suggestives. A single word, or + brief sentence, from his lips, judiciously applied to her sentiments or + situation, readily excited her to speech; and this utterance necessarily + brought with it the secret of her soul, the desire of her heart, nay, the + very shape of the delusion which possessed it. The wily libertine, + deliberate as the demon to which we have likened him, could provoke the + warmth which he did not share—could stimulate the eloquence which he + would not feel—could coldly, like some Mephistopheles of science, + subject the golden-winged bird or butterfly to the torturous process of + examination, with a pin thrust through its vitals, and gravely dilate on + its properties, its rich plumage, and elaborate finish of detail, without + giving heed to those writhings which declared its agonies. It is not meant + to be understood that Stevens found no pleasure himself in the display of + that wild, unschooled imagination which was the prevailing quality in the + mind of Margaret Cooper. He was a man of education and taste. He could be + pleased as an amateur; but he wanted the moral to be touched, and to + sympathize with a being so gifted and so feeble—so high aiming, yet + so liable to fall. + </p> + <p> + The ardor of Margaret Cooper, and the profound devotion which it was the + policy of Stevens to display, necessarily established their acquaintance, + in a very short time, on the closest footing of familiarity. With a nature + such as hers, all that is wanted is sympathy—all that she craves is + sympathy—and, to win this, no toil is too great, no sufferance too + severe; alas, how frequently do we see that no penalty is too + discouraging! But the confiding spirit never looks for penalties, and + seldom dreams of deceit. + </p> + <p> + What, then, were the emotions of William Hinkley as he beheld the + cordiality which distinguished the manner of Margaret Cooper as she + approached the edge of the lake with her companion? In the space of a + single week, this stranger had made greater progress in her acquaintance + than HE had been able to make in a period of years. The problem which + distressed him was beyond his power to solve. His heart was very full; the + moisture was already in his eyes; and when he beheld the animated gestures + of the maid—when he saw her turn to her companion, and meet his gaze + without shrinking, while her own was fixed in gratified contemplation—he + scarcely restrained himself from jumping to his feet. The old man saw his + emotion. + </p> + <p> + “William,” he said, “did I understand you that this young stranger was a + preacher?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, but he seeks to be one. He is studying for the ministry, under + Brother Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “Brother Cross is a good man, and is scarcely likely to have anything to + do with any other than good men. I suppose he knows everything about the + stranger?” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley narrated all that was known on the subject in the village. + In the innocence of his heart, Brother Cross had described Alfred Stevens + as a monument of his own powers of conversion. Under God, he had been a + blessed instrument for plucking this brand from the burning. A modified + account of the brandy-flask accompanied the narrative. Whether it was that + Mr. Calvert, who had been a man of the world, saw something in the story + itself, and in the ludicrousness of the event, which awakened his + suspicions, or whether the carriage of Alfred Stevens, as he walked with + Margaret Cooper, was rather that of a young gallant than a young student + in theology, may admit of question; but it was very certain that the + suspicions of the old gentleman were somewhat awakened. + </p> + <p> + Believing himself to be alone with his fair companion, Alfred Stevens was + not as scrupulous of the rigidity of manner which, if not actually + prescribed to persons occupying his professional position, is certainly + expected from them; and, by a thousand little acts of gallantry, he proved + himself much more at home as a courtier and a ladies' man than as one + filled with the overflow of divine grace, and thoughtful of nothing less + than the serious earnest of his own soul. His hand was promptly extended + to assist the progress of his fair companion—a service which was + singularly unnecessary in the case of one to whom daily rambles, over hill + and through forest, had imparted a most unfeminine degree of vigor. Now he + broke the branch away from before her path; and now, stooping suddenly, he + gathered for her the pale flower of autumn. + </p> + <p> + These little acts of courtesy, so natural to the gentleman, were anything + but natural to one suddenly impressed with the ascetical temper of + methodism. Highly becoming in both instances, they were yet strangely at + variance with the straight-laced practices of the thoroughgoing Wesleyan, + who sometimes fancies that the condition of souls is so desperate as to + leave no time for good manners. Mr. Calvert had no fault to find with + Stevens's civility, but there was certainly an inconsistency between his + deportment now, and those characteristics which were to be predicated of + the manner and mode of his very recent conversion. Besides, there was the + story of the brandy-flask, in which Calvert saw much less of honor either + to John Cross or his neophyte. But the old man did not express his doubts + to his young friend, and they sat together, watching, in a silence only + occasionally broken by a monosyllable, the progress of the unconscious + couple below. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, our fisherman, occupying his lonely perch just above the + stream, had been plying his vocation with all the silent diligence of one + to the manner born. Once busy with his angle, and his world equally of + thought and observation became confined to the stream before his eyes, and + the victim before his imagination. Scarcely seen by his companions on the + heights above, he had succeeded in taking several very fine fish; and had + his liberality been limited to the supper-table of his venerable friend + Calvert, he would long before have given himself respite, and temporary + immunity to the rest of the finny tribe remaining in the tarn. But Ned + Hinkley thought of all his neighbors, not omitting the two rival widows, + Mesdames Cooper and Thackeray. + </p> + <p> + Something too, there was in the sport, which, on the present occasion, + beguiled him rather longer than his wont. More than once had his eye + detected, from the advantageous and jutting rock where he lay concealed, + just above the water, the dark outlines of a fish, one of the largest he + had ever seen in the lake, whose brown sides, and occasionally flashing + fins, excited his imagination and offered a challenge to his skill, which + provoked him into something like a feeling of personal hostility. + </p> + <p> + The fish moved slowly to and fro, not often in sight, but at such + regularly-recurring periods as to keep up the exciting desire which his + very first appearance had awakened in the mind of his enemy. + </p> + <p> + To Ned Hinkley he was the beau-ideal of the trout genius. He was certainly + the hermit-trout of the tarn. Such coolness, such strength, such size, + such an outline, and then such sagacity. That trout was a triton among his + brethren. A sort of Dr. Johnson among fishes. Ned Hinkley could imagine—for + on such subjects his imagination kindled—how like an oracle must be + the words of such a trout, to his brethren, gathering in council in their + deep-down hole—or driven by a shower under the cypress log—or + in any other situation in which an oracle would be apt to say, looking + around him with fierceness mingled with contempt, “Let no dog bark.” Ned + Hinkley could also fancy the contemplations of such a trout as he + witnessed the efforts made to beguile him out of the water. + </p> + <p> + “Not to be caught by a fly like that, my lad!” and precisely as if the + trout had spoken what was certainly whispered in his own mind, the + fisherman silently changed his gilded, glittering figure on his hook for + one of browner plumage—one of the autumn tribe of flies which stoop + to the water from the overhanging trees, and glide off for twenty paces in + the stream, to dart up again to the trees, in as many seconds, if not + swallowed by some watchful fisher-trout, like the one then before the eyes + of our companion. + </p> + <p> + Though his fancy had become excited, Ned Hinkley was not impatient. With a + cautious hand he conducted the fly down the stream with the flickering, + fidgety motion which the real insect would have employed. The keen-nosed + trout turned with the movements of the fly, but philosophically kept + aloof. Now he might be seen to sink, now to rise, now he glided close + under the rock where the angler reclined, and, even in the very deep + waters which were there, which were consequently very dark, so great was + the size of the animal, that its brown outline was yet to be seen, with + its slightly-waving tail, and at moments the flash of its glittering eye, + as, inclining on its side, it glanced cunningly upward through the water. + </p> + <p> + Again did Ned Hinkley consult his resources. Fly after fly was taken from + his box, and suffered to glide upon the stream. The wary fish did not fail + to bestow some degree of attention upon each, but his regards were too + deliberate for the success of the angler, and he had almost began to + despair, when he observed a slight quivering movement in the object of + pursuit which usually prepares the good sportsman to expect his prey. The + fins were laid aback. The motion of the fish became steady; a slight + vibration of the tail only was visible; and in another moment he darted, + and was hooked. + </p> + <p> + Then came the struggle. Ned Hinkley had never met with a more formidable + prey. The reel was freely given, but the strain was great upon shaft and + line. There was no such thing as contending. The trout had his way, and + went down and off, though it might have been observed that the fisherman + took good care to baffle his efforts to retreat in the direction of the + old log which had harbored him, and the tangling alders, which might have + been his safest places of retreat. The fish carried a long stretch of + line, but the hook was still in his jaws, and this little annoyance soon + led him upon other courses. The line became relaxed, and with this sign, + Ned Hinkley began to amuse himself in tiring his victim. + </p> + <p> + This required skill and promptness rather than strength. The hermit-trout + was led to and fro by a judicious turn of wrist or elbow. His efforts had + subsided to a few spasmodic struggles—an occasional struggle ending + with a shiver, and then he was brought to the surface. This was followed + by a last great convulsive effort, when his tail churned the water into a + little circle of foam, which disappeared the moment his struggles were + over. But a few seconds more were necessary to lift the prey into sight of + all the parties near to the lake. They had seen some of the struggle, and + had imagined the rest. Neither Margaret Cooper nor Stevens had suspected + the presence of the fisherman until drawn to the spot by this trial of + strength. + </p> + <p> + “What a prodigious fish!” exclaimed Stevens; “can we go to the spot?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! easily—up the rocks on the left there is a path. I know it + well. I have traversed it often. Will you go? The view is very fine from + that quarter.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely: but who is the fisherman?” + </p> + <p> + “Ned Hinkley, the nephew of the gentleman with whom you stay. He is a + hunter, fisherman, musician—everything. A lively, simple, but + well-meaning young person. It is something strange that his cousin William + Hinkley is not with him. They are usually inseparable.” + </p> + <p> + And with these words she led the way for her companion following the edge + of the lake until reaching the point where the rocks seemed to form + barriers to their further progress, but which her agility and energy had + long since enabled her to overcome. + </p> + <p> + “A bold damsel!” said Calvert, as he viewed her progress. “She certainly + does not intend to clamber over that range of precipices. She will peril + her life.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said William Hinkley; “she has done it often to my great terror. I + have been with her more than once over the spot myself. She seems to me to + have no fear, and to delight in the most dangerous places.” + </p> + <p> + “But her companion! If he's not a more active man than he seems he will + hardly succeed so well.” + </p> + <p> + William was silent, his eye watching with the keenest interest the + progress of the two. In a few moments he started to his feet with some + appearance of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” demanded Calvert. + </p> + <p> + “She does not seem as if she wished to ascend the rocks, but she's aiming + to keep along the ledges that overhang the stream, so as to get where Ned + is. That can hardly be done by the surest-footed, and most active. Many of + the rocks are loose. The ledge is very narrow, and even where there is + room for the feet there are such projections above as leave no room for + the body. I will halloo to her, and tell her of the danger.” + </p> + <p> + “If you halloo, you will increase the danger—you will alarm her,” + said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “It will be best to stop her now, in season, when she can go back. Stay + for me, sir, I can run along on the heights so as to overlook them, and + can then warn without alarming.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so, my son, and hasten, for she seems bent on going forward. The + preacher follows but slowly, and she stops for him. Away!” + </p> + <p> + The youth darted along the hill, pursuing something of a table-line which + belonged to the equal elevation of the range of rock on which he stood. + The rock was formed of successive and shelving ledges, at such intervals, + however, as to make it no easy task—certainly no safe one—to + drop from one to the other. The perch of Ned Hinkley, was a projection + from the lowest of these ledges, running brokenly along the margin of the + basin until lost in the forest slope over which Margaret Cooper had led + her companion. + </p> + <p> + If it was a task to try the best vigor and agility—to say nothing of + courage—of the ablest mountaineer, to ascend the abrupt ledges from + below, aiming at the highest point of elevation. The attempt was still + more startling to follow the lower ledges, some of which hung, loosened + and tottering, just above the deepest parts of the lake. Yet, with that + intrepidity which marked her character, this was the very task which + Margaret Cooper had proposed to herself. William Hinkley had justly said + that she did not seem to know fear; and when Stevens with the natural + sense of caution which belongs to one to whom such performances are + unusual, suggested to her that such a pathway seemed very dangerous— + </p> + <p> + “Dangerous!” she exclaimed, standing upon the merest pinnacle of a + loosened fragment which rested on the very margin of the stream. + </p> + <p> + “Did you never perceive that there was a loveliness in danger which you + scarcely felt to be half so great in any other object or situation. I love + the dangerous. It seems to lift my soul, to make my heart bound with joy + and the wildest delight. I know nothing so delightful as storm and + thunder. I look, and see the tall trees shivering and going down with a + roar, and feel that I could sing—sing aloud—and believe that + there are voices, like mine, then singing through all the tempest. But + there is no danger here. I have clambered up these ledges repeatedly—up + to the very top. Here, you see, we have an even pathway along the edge. We + have nothing to do but to set the foot down firmly.” + </p> + <p> + But Stevens was not so sure, and his opinion on the beauties of the + dangerous did not chime exactly with hers. Still, he did not lack for + courage, and his pride did not suffer him to yield in a contest with a + female. He gazed on her with increasing wonder. If he saw no loveliness in + danger—he saw no little loveliness just then in her; and she might + be said to personify danger to his eyes. Her tall, symmetrical, and + commanding figure, perched on the trembling pinnacle of rock which + sustained her, was as firm and erect as if she stood on the securest spot + of land. + </p> + <p> + Nor was her position that of simple security and firmness. The grace of + her attitude, her extended and gently waving arm as she spoke, denoted a + confidence which could only have arisen from a perfect unconsciousness of + danger. Her swan-like neck, with the face slightly turned back to him; the + bright flashing eyes, and the smile of equal pride and dignity on her + exquisitely-chiselled mouth;—all formed a picture for the artist's + study, which almost served to divert the thoughts of Stevens from the + feeling of danger which he expressed. + </p> + <p> + While he gazed, he heard a voice calling in tones of warning from above; + and, at the sound, he perceived a change in the expression of Margaret + Cooper's face, from confidence and pride, to scorn and contempt. At the + same time she darted forward from rock to rock, with a sort of defying + haste, which made him tremble for her safety, and left him incapable to + follow. The call was repeated; and Stevens looked up, and recognised the + person of the youth whom he had counselled that morning with such bad + success. + </p> + <p> + If the progress of Margaret Cooper appeared dangerous in his sight, that + of the young man was evidently more so. He was leaping, with the cool + indifference of one who valued his life not a pin's fee, from ledge to + ledge, down the long steppes which separated the several reaches of the + rock formation. The space between was very considerable, the descent + abrupt; the youth had no steadying pole to assist him, but flying rather + than leaping, was now beheld in air, and in the next moment stood + balancing himself with difficulty, but with success, and without seeming + apprehension, on the pinnacle of rock below him. In this way he was + approaching the lower ledge along which Margaret Cooper was hurrying as + rapidly as fearlessly, and calling to her as he came, implored her to + forbear a progress which was so full of danger. + </p> + <p> + Stevens fancied he had no reason to love the youth, but he could not help + admiring and envying his equal boldness and agility; the muscular ease + with which he flung himself from point to point, and his sure-footed + descent upon the crags and fragments which trembled and tottered beneath + the sudden and unaccustomed burden. Charitably wishing that, amid all his + agility he might yet make a false step, and find an unexpected and rather + cold bath in the lake below, Stevens now turned his eyes upon Margaret + Cooper. + </p> + <p> + She did not answer the counsels of William Hinkley—certainly did not + heed them: and, but for the increased impatience of her manner might be + supposed not to have heard them. The space between herself and Stevens had + increased meanwhile, and looking back, she waited for his approach. She + stood on a heavy mass which jutted above the lake, and not six feet from + the water. Her right foot was upon the stone, sustaining the whole weight + of her person. Her left was advanced and lifted to another fragment which + lay beyond. As she looked back she met the eyes of Stevens. Just then he + saw the large fragment yield beneath her feet. She seemed suddenly + conscious of it in the same moment, and sprung rapidly on that to which + her left foot was already advanced. The impetus of this movement, sent the + rock over which she had left. This disturbed the balance of that to which + she had risen, and while the breath of the stranger hung suspended in the + utterance of the meditated warning, the catastrophe had taken place. The + stone shrank from beneath her, and, sinking with it, in another moment, + she was hidden from sight in the still, deep waters of the lake. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. — SOUSING A GURNET. + </h2> + <p> + The disappearance of Margaret Cooper was succeeded by a shriek from above—a + single shriek—a cry of terror and despair; and in the same instant + the form of William Hinkley might have been seen cleaving the air, with + the boldness of a bird, secure always of his wing, and descending into the + lake as nearly as it was possible for him to come, to the spot where she + had sunk. Our cooler fisherman looked up to the abrupt eminence, just + above his own head, from which his devoted cousin had sprung. + </p> + <p> + “By gemini!” he exclaimed with an air of serious apprehension, “if William + Hinkley hasn't knocked his life out by that plunge he's more lucky than I + think him. It's well the lake's deep enough in this quarter else he'd have + tried the strength of hard head against harder rock below. But there's no + time for such nice calculations! We can all swim—that's a comfort.” + </p> + <p> + Thus speaking, he followed the example of his cousin, though more quietly, + plunging off from his lowlier perch, and cleaving the water, headforemost, + with as little commotion as a sullen stone would make sent directly + downward to the deep. By this time, however, our former companion, + Stevens, had done the same thing. Stevens was no coward, but he had no + enthusiasm. He obeyed few impulses. His proceedings were all the result of + calculation. He could swim as well as his neighbors. He had no + apprehensions on that score; but he disliked cold water; and there was an + involuntary shrug of the shoulder and shiver of the limbs before he + committed himself to the water, which he did with all the deliberation of + the cat, who, longing for fish, is yet unwilling to wet her own feet. His + deliberation, and the nearness of his position to Margaret Cooper, were so + far favorable to his design that he succeeded in finding her first. It + must be understood that the events, which we have taken so much time to + tell, occupied but a few seconds in the performance. Stevens was in the + water quite as quickly as Ned Hinkley, and only not so soon as his more + devoted and desperate cousin. If it was an advantage to him to come first + in contact with the form of Margaret Cooper, it had nearly proved fatal to + him also. In the moment when he encountered her, her outstretched and + grasping arms, encircled his neck. They rose together, but he was nearly + strangled, and but for the timely interposition of the two cousins, they + must probably have both perished. + </p> + <p> + It was the fortune of our fisherman to relieve the maiden, whom he bore to + the opposite shore with a coolness, a skill and spirit, which enabled him + to save himself from her desperate but unconscious struggles, while + supporting her with a degree of ease and strength which had been acquired + while teaching some dozen of the village urchins how to practise an art in + which he himself was reckoned a great proficient. + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate for Stevens that the charities of William Hinkley were + more active and indulgent than his own, since, without the timely succor + and aid which he afforded, that devout young gentleman would have been + made to discontinue his studies very suddenly and have furnished a summary + conclusion to this veracious narrative—a consummation which, if it + be as devoutly wished by the reader as by the writer, will be a much + greater source of annoyance to our publisher than it has proved already. + Never had poor mortal been compelled to drink, at one time, a greater + quantity of that celestial beverage, which the Reverend Mr. Pierpont + insists is the only liquor drunk at the hotels of heaven. We should be + sorry to misrepresent that very gentle gentleman, but we believe that this + is substantially his idea. It was unfortunate for Stevens that, previously + to this, he had never been accustomed to drink much of this beverage in + its original strength anywhere. He had been too much in the habit of + diluting it; and being very temperate always in his enjoyment of the + creature comforts, he had never taken it, even when thus diluted, except + in very moderate quantities. + </p> + <p> + In consequence of his former abstemiousness, the quantity which he now + swallowed nearly strangled him. He was about to take his last draught with + many wry faces, when the timely arms of the two cousins, by no very + sparing application of force withdrew him from the grasp of the damsel; + and without very well understanding the process, or any particulars of his + extrication, he found himself stretched upon the banks over which he had + lately wandered, never dreaming of any such catastrophe; discharging from + his stomach by no effort of his own, a large quantity of foreign + ingredients—the ordinary effect, we are given to understand, of + every inordinate indulgence in strong waters. + </p> + <p> + Our excellent old friend, Mr. Calvert, was soon upon the spot, and while + Ned Hinkley was despatched to the village for assistance, he took himself + the charge of recovering the unconscious maiden. Half-forgetting his + hostility, William Hinkley undertook the same good service to Stevens, who + really seemed to need succor much more than his fair companion. While + William Hinkley busied himself by rolling, friction, fanning, and other + practices, employed in such cases, to bring his patient back to life, he + could not forbear an occasional glance to the spot where, at a little + distance, lay the object of his affections. + </p> + <p> + Her face was toward him, as she lay upon her side. Her head was supported + on the lap of the old man. Her long hair hung dishevelled, of a more + glossy black now when filled with water. Her eyes were shut, and the dark + fringes of their lids lay like a pencil-streak across the pale, prominent + orbs which they served to bind together. The glow of indignant pride with + which she was wont to receive his approaches had all disappeared in the + mortal struggle for life through which she had lately gone; and pure, as + seemingly free from every passion, her pale beauties appeared to his + doating eye the very perfection of human loveliness. Her breast now heaved + convulsively—deep sighs poured their way through her parted lips. + Her eyes alternately opened upon but shut against the light, and, finally, + the exertions of the old man were rewarded as the golden gleam of + expression began to relight and re-illumine those features which seemed + never to be without it. + </p> + <p> + She recovered her consciousness, started up, made an effort to rise, but, + reeling with inability, sunk down again into the paternal grasp of the old + man. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Calvert!” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “You are safe, my daughter,” said the old man. + </p> + <p> + “But how did it happen?—where am I?” + </p> + <p> + “By the lake.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I remember. I was drowning. I felt it all—the choking—the + struggle—the water in my ears and eyes! It was a dreadful feeling. + How did I come here? Who saved me?” + </p> + <p> + “Ned Hinkley brought you to land, but he was helped by his cousin William, + who assisted the stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “The stranger? ah! yes, I remember: but where is he?” + </p> + <p> + She looked around wildly and anxiously, and beholding William Hinkley at a + little distance, busy with the still unconscious form of Stevens, a quick, + fearful shudder passed over her frame. She almost crouched into the old + man's arms as she asked, in husky accents— + </p> + <p> + “He is not dead—he lives?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope so. He breathes.” + </p> + <p> + She waited for no more, but, starting to her feet, she staggered to the + spot where Stevens lay. The old man would have prevented her. + </p> + <p> + “You are feeble; you will do yourself harm. Better, if you are able to + walk, hurry homeward with me, when you can change your clothes.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you have me ungrateful?” she exclaimed; “shall I neglect him when + he risked his life for me?” + </p> + <p> + There was a consciousness in her mind that it was not all gratitude which + moved her, for the deathly paleness of her cheek was now succeeded by a + warm blush which denoted a yet stronger and warmer emotion. The keen eyes + of William Hinkley understood the meaning of this significant but + unsyllabling mode of utterance, and his eyes spoke the reproach to hers + which his lips left unsaid:— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! did I not risk my life too, to prevent—to save? When would she + feel such an interest in me? when would she look thus were my life at + stake?” + </p> + <p> + “He will not be neglected,” said the old man, gently endeavoring to + restrain her. Perhaps she would not have given much heed to the + interruption, for hers was the strength of an unfettered will, one + accustomed to have way, but that, at this moment, the eyes of Stevens + unclosed and met her own. His consciousness had returned, and, under the + increasing expression in his looks, she sunk back, and permitted the old + man to lead her along the homeward path. More than once she looked back, + but, with the assurance of Mr. Calvert that there was no more danger to be + apprehended, she continued to advance; the worthy old man, as they went, + seeking to divert her mind, by pleasant and choice anecdotes of which his + memory had abundant stores, from dwelling upon the unpleasant and exciting + event which had just taken place. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper, whose habits previously had kept her from much intimacy + with the village sage, was insensibly taken by his gentleness, the purity + of his taste, the choiceness of his expression, the extent of his + resources. She wondered how a mind so full should have remained unknown to + her so long—committing the error, very common to persons of strong + will and determined self-esteem, of assuming that she should, as a matter + of inevitable necessity, have known everything and everybody of which the + knowledge is at all desirable. + </p> + <p> + In pleasant discourse he beguiled her progress, until Ned Hinkley was met + returning with horses—the pathway did not admit of a vehicle, and + the village had none less cumbrous than cart and wagon—on one of + which she mounted, refusing all support or assistance; and when, Mr. + Calvert insisted upon walking beside her, she grasped the bough of a tree, + broke off a switch, and, giving an arch but good-natured smile and nod to + the old man, laid it smartly over the horse's flank, and in a few moments + was out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “The girl is smart,” said Calvert, as he followed her retreating form with + his eye—“too smart! She speaks well—has evidently read. No + wonder that William loves her; but she will never do for him. She has no + humility. Pride is the demon in her heart. Pride will overthrow her. These + woods spoil her. Solitude is the natural nurse of self-esteem, + particularly where it is strong at first, and is coupled with anything + like talent. Better for such a one if sickness, and strife, and suffering, + had taken her at the cradle, and nursed her with the milk of self-denial, + which is the only humility worth having. And yet, why should I speak of + her, when the sting remains in my own soul—when I yet feel the pang + of my feebleness and self-reproach? Alas! I should school none. The voice + speaks to me ever, 'Old man, to thy prayers! Thy own knees are yet + stubborn as thy neck!'” + </p> + <p> + Leaving him to the becoming abasement of that delusive self-comfort which + ministers to our vain-glory, and which this good old man had so happily + succeeded in rebuking, we will return to the spot where we left our other + parties. Ned Hinkley had already joined them. With his horse he had + providently brought a suit of his own clothes for the stranger, which, + though made of homespun, and not of the most modern fashion, were yet warm + and comfortable, and as Stevens was compelled to think, infinitely + preferable to the chilly and dripping garments which he wore. A few + moments, in the cover of the woods, sufficed the neophyte to make the + alteration; while the two cousins, to whom the exigencies of forester and + fisherman life were more familiar prepared to walk the water out of their + own habits, by giving rapid circulation to their blood and limbs. While + their preparations were in progress, however, Ned Hinkley could not deny + himself the pleasure of discoursing at length on the subject of the late + disaster. + </p> + <p> + “Stranger,” he said, “I must tell you that you've had a souse in as fine a + fishing-pond as you'll meet with from here to Salt river. I reckon, now, + that while you were in, you never thought for a moment of the noble trout + that inhabit it.” + </p> + <p> + “I certainly did not,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “There, now! I could have sworn it. That a man should go with his eyes + open into a country without ever asking what sort of folks lived there! + Isn't it monstrous?” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly seems like a neglect of the first duty of a traveller,” said + Stevens good-humoredly; “let me not show myself heedless of another. Let + me thank you, gentlemen, for saving my life. I believe I owe it to one or + both of you.” + </p> + <p> + “To him, not to me,” said Ned Hinkley, pointing to his cousin. William was + at a little distance, looking sullenly upon the two with eyes which, if + dark and moody, seemed to denote a thought which was anywhere else but in + the scene around him. + </p> + <p> + “He saved you, and I saved the woman. I wouldn't have a woman drowned in + this lake for all the houses in Charlemont.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! why?” + </p> + <p> + “'Twould spoil it for fishing for ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Why would a woman do this more than a man?” + </p> + <p> + “For a very good reason, my friend. Because the ghost of a woman talks, + and a man's don't, they say. The ghost of a man says what it wants to say + with its eyes; a woman's with her tongue. You know there's nothing scares + fish so much as one's talking.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard so. But is it so clear that there is such a difference + between ghosts? How is it known that the female does all the talking?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's beyond dispute. There's a case that we all know about—all + here in Charlemont—the case of Joe Barney's millpond. Barney lost + one of his children and one of his negroes in the pond—drowned as a + judgment, they say, for fishing a Sunday. That didn't make any difference + with the fish: you could catch them there just the same as before. But + when old Mrs. Prey fell in, crossing the dam, the case was altered. You + might sit there for hours and days, night and day, and bob till you were + weary; devil a bite after that! Now, what could make the difference but + the tongue? Mother Frey had a tongue of her own, I tell you. 'Twas going + when she fell in, and I reckon's been going ever since. She was a + sulphury, spiteful body, to be sure, and some said she poisoned the fish + if she didn't scare them. To my thinking, 'twas the tongue.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens had been something seduced from his gravity by the blunt humor and + unexpected manner of Ned Hinkley; besides, having been served, if not + saved, by his hands, something, perhaps, of attention was due to what he + had to say; but he recollected the assumed character which he had to + maintain—something doubtful, too, if he had not already impaired it + in the sight and hearing of those who had come so opportunely but so + unexpectedly to his relief, He recovered his composure and dignity; + forbore to smile at the story which might otherwise have provoked not only + smile but corresponding answer; and, by the sudden coolness of his manner, + tended to confirm in Ned Hinkley's bosom the half-formed hostility which + the cause of his cousin had originally taught him to feel. + </p> + <p> + “I'll lick the conceit out of him yet!” he muttered, as Stevens, turning + away, ascended to the spot where William Hinkley stood. + </p> + <p> + “I owe you thanks, Mr. Hinkley,” he began. + </p> + <p> + The young man interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “You owe me nothing, sir,” he answered hastily, and prepared to turn away. + </p> + <p> + “You have saved my life, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I should have saved your dog's life, sir, in the same situation. I have + done but an act of duty.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mr. Hinkley—” + </p> + <p> + “Your horse is ready for you, sir,” said the young man, turning off + abruptly, and darting up the sides of the hill, remote from the pathway, + and burying himself in the contiguous forests. + </p> + <p> + “Strange!” exclaimed the neophyte—“this is very strange!” + </p> + <p> + “Not so strange, stranger, as that I should stand your groom, without + being brought up to such a business for any man. Here's your nag, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you—I would not willingly trespass,” he replied, as he + relieved our angler from his grasp upon the bridle. + </p> + <p> + “You're welcome without the thanks, stranger. I reckon you know the route + you come. Up hill, follow the track to the top, take the left turn to the + valley, then you'll see the houses, and can follow your own nose or your + nag's. Either's straight enough to carry you to his rack. You'll find your + clothes at your boarding-house about the time that you'll get there.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sir, I already owe you much. Let them not trouble you. I will take + them myself.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, stranger!” was the reply of our fisherman, as he stooped down and + busied himself in making the garments into a compact bundle; “I'm not the + man to leave off without doing the thing I begin to do. I sometimes do + more than I bargain for—sometimes lick a man soundly when I set out + only to tweak his nose; but I make it a sort of Christian law never to do + less. You may reckon to find your clothes home by the time you get there. + There's your road.” + </p> + <p> + “A regular pair of cubs!” muttered the horseman, as he ascended the hill. + </p> + <p> + “To purse up his mouth as if I was giving him root-drink, when I was + telling him about Mother Frey's spoiling the fish! Let him take care—he + may get the vinegar next time, and not the fish!” + </p> + <p> + And, with these characteristic commentaries, the parties separated for the + time. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. — PHILOSOPHY OP FIGHTING. + </h2> + <p> + “You're not a fighter, Bill Hinkley, and that's about the worst fault that + I can find against you.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the beginning of a dialogue between the cousins some three days + after the affair which was narrated in our last chapter. The two young men + were at the house of the speaker, or rather at his mother's house; where, + a favorite and only son, he had almost supreme dominion. He was putting + his violin in tune, and the sentences were spoken at intervals with the + discordant scraps of sound which were necessarily elicited by this + unavoidable musical operation. These sounds might be said to form a + running accompaniment for the dialogue, and, considering the sombre mood + of the person addressed, they were, perhaps, far more congenial than any + more euphonious strains would have been. + </p> + <p> + “Not a fighter!” said the other; “why, what do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, just what I say—you are not a fighter. You love reading, and + fiddling, and fishing sometimes, and sometimes dancing, and hunting, and + swimming; but I'm pretty certain you don't love fighting. You needn't + contradict, Bill—I've been thinking the matter over; and I'm sure of + it. I recollect every battle or scrape you ever were in, from the time we + went to old Chandler's, and I tell you, you're not a fighter—you + don't love fighting!” + </p> + <p> + This was concluded with a tremendous scrape over the strings, which seemed + to say as well as scrape could speak—“There can be no mistake on the + subject—I've said it.” + </p> + <p> + “If I knew exactly what you were driving at,” said the other, “perhaps I + might answer you. I never pretended to be a fighter; and as for loving it, + as I love eating, drinking, books, fiddling, and dancing, why that needs + no answer. Of course I do not, and I don't know who does.” + </p> + <p> + “There it is. I told you. I knew it. You'd sooner do almost anything than + fight.” + </p> + <p> + “If you mean that I would submit to insult,” said the more peaceable + cousin, with some displeasure in his tones and countenance, “sooner than + resent it, you are very much mistaken. It wouldn't be advisable even for + you to try the experiment.” + </p> + <p> + “Poh, poh, Bill, you know for that matter that it wouldn't take much + trying. I'd lick you as easily now as I did when we were boys together.” + </p> + <p> + “We are boys no longer,” said the other gravely. + </p> + <p> + “I'm as much a boy as ever, so far as the licking capacity calls for + boyhood. I've pretty much the same spirit now that I had then, and ten + times the same strength and activity. But don't look so blue. I'm not + going to try my strength and spirit and activity on you. And don't + suppose, Bill Hinkley, that I mean to say you're anything of a coward, or + that you'd submit to any open insult; but still I do say, you're not only + not fond of fighting, but you're just not as much inclined that way as you + should be.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! what more would you have? Do you not say that I would not submit + to insult?—that I show the proper degree of courage in such cases?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the PROPER degree. That's the very question. You're not quick enough. + You wait for the first blow. You don't step out to meet the enemy. You + look for him to come to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely! I look upon fighting as brutal—to be waited for, not sought—to + be resorted to only in compliance with necessity—to be avoided to + the last!” + </p> + <p> + “No such thing—all a mistake. Fighting and the desire to get on the + shoulders of our neighbors is a natural passion. We see that every day. + The biggest boy licks the one just below him, he whips the next, and so + down, and there's not one that don't lick somebody and don't stand licked + himself—for the master licks the biggest. The desire to fight and + flog is natural, and this being the case, it stands to reason that we must + lick our neighbor or he'll be sure to lick us.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! you speak like a boy yet. This is schoolhouse philosophy.” + </p> + <p> + “And very good philosophy too. I'm thinking the schoolhouse and the + play-ground is pretty much a sort of world to itself. It's no bad show of + what the world without is; and one of its first lessons and that which I + think the truest, is the necessity of having a trial of strength with + every new-comer; until we learn where he's to stand in the ranks, number + one or number nothing. You see there just the same passions, though, + perhaps, on a small scale, that we afterward find to act upon the big + world of manhood. There, we fight for gingerbread, for marbles, top and + ball; not unfrequently because we venture to look at our neighbor's + sweetheart; and sometimes, quite as often, for the love of the thing and + to know where the spirit and the sinew are. Well, isn't that just what the + big world does after us? As men, we fight for bigger playthings, for + pounds, where before we fought for pence—for gold where before we + fought for coppers—for command of a country instead of a schoolyard; + for our wives instead of sweethearts, and through sheer deviltry and the + love of the thing, when there's nothing else to fight about, just the same + as we did in boyhood.” + </p> + <p> + “But even were you to prove, and I to admit, that it is so, just as you + say, that would not prove the practice to be a jot more proper, or a jot + less brutal.” + </p> + <p> + “Begging your pardon, Bill, it proves it to be right and proper, and + accordingly, if brutal, a becoming brutality. If this is the natural + disposition of boys and men, don't you see that this schoolboy licking and + fighting is a necessary part of one's moral education? It learns one to + use his strength, his limbs and sinews, as he may be compelled to use + them, in self-defence, in every future day of his life. You know very well + what follows a boy at school who doesn't show himself ready to bung up his + neighbor's eye the moment he sees it at a cross-twinkle. He gets his own + bunged up. Well, it's just the same thing when he gets to be a man. If you + have a dispute with your enemy, I don't say that you shouldn't reason with + him, but I do say that your reasoning will have very little effect upon + him unless he sees that you are able and willing to write it in black and + blue upon his sheepskin. And what better way could you find to show him + THAT, unless by giving him word and blow, the blow first, as being the + most impressive argument?” + </p> + <p> + “You must have been dreaming of these subjects last night.” said the grave + cousin—“you seem to have them unusually well cut and dried.” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't been dreaming about it, Bill, but I confess I've been thinking + about it very seriously all night, and considering all the arguments that + I thought you would make use of against it. I haven't quite done with my + discussion, which I took up entirely for your benefit.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! you are quite philanthropic before breakfast; but let us hear + you?” + </p> + <p> + “You talk of the brutality of fighting—now in what does that + brutality consist? Is it not in breaking noses, kicking shins, bunging up + eyes, and making one's neighbor feel uncomfortable in thigh, and back, and + arms, and face, and skin, and indeed, everywhere, where a big fist or a + cowhide shoe may plant a buffet or a bruise?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite a definition, Ned.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad you think so: for if it's brutal in the boy to do so to his + schoolmate, is it less so for the schoolmaster to do the same thing to the + boy that's under his charge? He bruises my skin, makes my thighs, and + arms, and back, and legs, and face, and hands, ache, and if my definition + be a correct one, he is quite as brutal as the boys who do the same thing + to one another.” + </p> + <p> + “He does it because the boys deserve it, and in order to make them + obedient and active.” + </p> + <p> + “And when did a boy not deserve a flogging when he gets licked by his + companion?” demanded the other triumphantly—“and don't the licking + make him obedient, and don't the kicking make him active? By gemini, I've + seen more activity from one chap's legs under the quick application of + another's feet, than I think anything else could produce, unless it were + feet made expressly for such a purpose and worked by a steam-engine. That + might make them move something faster, but I reckon there would be no need + in such a case of any such improvement.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you driving at, Ned Hinkley? This is by far the longest + argument, I think, that you've ever undertaken. You must be moved by some + very serious considerations.” + </p> + <p> + “I am, and you'll see what I'm driving at after a little while. I'm not + fond of arguing, you know, but I look upon the fighting principle as a + matter to be known and believed in, and I wish to make clear to you my + reasons for believing in it myself. You don't suppose I'd put down the + fiddle for a talk at any time if the subject was not a serious one?” + </p> + <p> + “Give way—you have the line.” + </p> + <p> + “About the brutality of fighting then, there's another thing to be said. + Fighting produces good feeling—that is to say supposing one party + fairly to have licked another.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed—that's new.” + </p> + <p> + “And true too, Bill Hinkley. It cures the sulks. It lets off steam. It's + like a thunderstorm that comes once in a while, and drives away the + clouds, and clears the skies until all's blue again.” + </p> + <p> + “Black and blue.” + </p> + <p> + “No! what was black becomes blue. Chaps that have been growling at each + other for weeks and months lose their bad blood—” + </p> + <p> + “From the nostrils!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, from the nostrils. It's a sort of natural channel, and runs freely + from that quarter. The one crows and the other runs and there's an end of + the scrape and the sulks. The weaker chap, feeling his weakness, ceases to + be impudent; the stronger, having his power acknowledged, becomes the + protector of the weak. Each party falls into his place, and so far from + the licking producing bad feeling it produces good feeling and good humor; + and I conclude that one half of the trouble in the world, the squabbles + between man and man, woman and woman, boy and boy—nay, between rival + nations—is simply because your false and foolish notions of + brutality and philanthropy keep them from coming to the scratch as soon as + they should. They hang off, growling and grumbling, and blackguarding, and + blaspheming, when, if they would only take hold, and come to an earnest + grapple, the odds would soon show themselves—broken heads and noses + would follow—the bad blood would run, and as soon as each party + found his level, the one being finally on his back, peace would ensue, and + there would be good humor for ever after, or at least until the blood + thickened again. I think there's reason in my notion. I was thinking it + over half the night. I've thought of it oftentimes before. I've never yet + seen the argument that's strong enough to tumble it.” + </p> + <p> + “Your views are certainly novel, Ned, if not sound. You will excuse me if + I do not undertake to dispute them this morning. I give in, therefore, and + you may congratulate yourself upon having gained a triumph if not a + convert?” + </p> + <p> + “Stop, stop, William Hinkley: you don't suppose I've done all this talking + only to make a convert or to gain a triumph?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that's your object in fighting, why not in arguing?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's the object of most persons when they dispute, I know; but it + is not mine. I wish to make a practical application of my doctrine.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! who do you mean to fight now?” + </p> + <p> + “It's not for me to fight, it's for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Me!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; you have the preference by rights, though if you don't—and I'm + rather sorry to think, as I told you at the start, that the only fault I + had to find with you is that you're not a fighter—I must take your + place and settle the difference.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley turned upon the speaker. The latter had laid down the + violin, having, in the course of the argument, broken all its strings; and + he stood now, unjacketed, and still in the chamber, where the two young + men had been sleeping, almost in the attitude of one about to grapple with + an antagonist. The serious face of him whose voice had been for war—his + startling position—the unwonted eagerness of his eye, and the + ludicrous importance which he attached to the strange principle which he + had been asserting—conquered for a moment the graver mood of his + love-sick companion, and he laughed outright at his pugnacious cousin. The + latter seemed a little offended. + </p> + <p> + “It's well you can laugh at such things, Bill Hinkley, but I can't. There + was a time when every mother's son in Kentucky was a man, and could stand + up to his rack with the best. If he couldn't keep the top place, he went a + peg lower; but he made out to keep the place for which he was intended. + Then, if a man disliked his neighbor he crossed over to him and said so, + and they went at it like men, and as soon as the pout was over they shook + hands, and stood side by side, and shoulder to shoulder, like true + friends, in every danger, and never did fellows fight better against + Indians and British than the same two men, that had lapped muscles, and + rolled in the grain together till you couldn't say whose was whose, and + which was which, till the best man jumped up, and shook himself, and gave + the word to crow. After that it was all peace and good humor, and they + drank and danced together, and it didn't lessen a man in his sweetheart's + eyes, though he was licked, if he could say he had stood up like a man, + and was downed after a good hug, because he couldn't help it. Now, there's + precious little of that. The chap that dislikes his fellow, hasn't the + soul to say it out, but he goes aside and sneers and snickers, and he + whispers things that breed slanders, and scandals, and bad blood, until + there's no trusting anybody; and everything is full of hate and enmity—but + then it's so peaceful! Peaceful, indeed! as if there was any peace where + there is no confidence, and no love, and no good feeling either for one + thing or another.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, Ned, it seems to me you're indignant without any occasion. I am + tempted to laugh at you again.” + </p> + <p> + “No, don't. You'd better not.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha! I can not help it, Ned; so don't buffet me. You forced me + into many a fight when I was a boy, for which I had no stomach; I trust + you will not pummel me yourself because the world has grown so hatefully + pacific. Tell me, in plain terms, who I am to fight now.” + </p> + <p> + “Who! who but Stevens?—this fellow Stevens. He's your enemy, you say—comes + between you and your sweetheart—between you and your own mother—seems + to look down upon you—speaks to you as if he was wiser, and better, + and superior in every way—makes you sad and sulky to your best + friends—you growl and grumble at him—you hate him—you + fear him—” + </p> + <p> + “Fear him!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I say fear him, for it's a sort of fear to skulk off from your + mother's house to avoid seeing him—” + </p> + <p> + “What, Ned, do you tell me that—do you begrudge me a place with you + here, my bed, my breakfast?” + </p> + <p> + “Begrudge! dang it, William Hinkley, don't tell me that, unless you want + me to lay heavy hand on your shoulder!”—and the tears gushed into + the rough fellow's eyes as he spoke these words, and he turned off to + conceal them. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to vex you, Ned, but why tell me that I skulk—that I + fear this man?” + </p> + <p> + “Begrudge!” muttered the other. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, forgive me; I didn't mean it. I was hasty when I said so; but you + also said things to provoke me. Do you suppose that I fear this man + Stevens?” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you lick him then, or let him lick you, and bring the matter to + an ending? Find out who's the best man, and put an end to the growling and + the groaning. As it now stands you're not the same person—you're not + fit company for any man. You scarcely talk, you listen to nobody. You + won't fish, you won't hunt: you're sulky yourself and you make other + people so!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid, Ned, it wouldn't much help the matter even if I were to + chastise the stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “It would cure him of his impudence. It would make him know how to treat + you; and if the rest of your grievance comes from Margaret Cooper, there's + a way to end that too.” + </p> + <p> + “How! you wouldn't have me fight her?” said William Hinkley, with an + effort to smile. + </p> + <p> + “Why, we may call it fighting,” said the advocate for such wholesale + pugnacity, “since it calls for quite as much courage sometimes to face one + woman as it does to face three men. But what I mean that you should do + with her is to up and at her. Put the downright question like a man 'will + you?' or 'won't you?' and no more beating about the bush. If she says + 'no!' there's no more to be said, and if I was you after that, I'd let + Stevens have her or the d—l himself, since I'm of the notion that no + woman is fit for me if she thinks me not fit for her. Such a woman can't + be worth having, and after that I wouldn't take her as a gracious gift + were she to be made twice as beautiful. The track's before you, William + Hinkley. Bring the stranger to the hug, and Margaret Cooper too, if she'll + let you. But, at all events, get over the grunting and the growling, the + sulky looks, and the sour moods. They don't become a man who's got a man's + heart, and the sinews of a man.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley leaned against the fireplace with his head resting upon + his hand. The other approached him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't mean to say anything, Bill, or even to look anything, that'll do + you hurt. I'm for bringing your trouble to a short cut. I've told you what + I think right and reasonable, and for no other man in Kentucky would I + have taken the pains to think out this matter as I have done. But you or I + must lick Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, Ned. Your eagerness carries you astray. Would you beat a man + who offers no resistance?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely not.” + </p> + <p> + “Stevens is a non-combatant. If you were to slap John Cross on one cheek + he'd turn you the other. He'd never strike you back.” + </p> + <p> + “John Cross and Stevens are two persons. I tell you the stranger WILL + fight. I'm sure of it. I've seen it in his looks and actions.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “I do; I'm sure of it. But you must recollect besides, that John Cross is + a preacher, already sworn in, as I may say. Stevens is only a beginner. + Besides, John Cross is an old man; Stevens, a young one. John Cross don't + care a straw about all the pretty girls in the country. He works in the + business of souls, not beauties, and it's very clear that Stevens not only + loves a pretty girl, but that he's over head and heels in love with your + Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more. If he will fight, Ned Hinkley, he shall fight!” + </p> + <p> + “Bravo, Bill—that's all that I was arguing for—that's all that + I want. But you must make at Margaret Cooper also.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Ned, there I confess my fears.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what are you afraid of?” + </p> + <p> + “Rejection!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that worse than this suspense—this anxiety—this looking + out from morning till night for the sunshine, and this constant + apprehension of the clouds—this knowing not what to be about—this + sulking—this sadding—this growling—this grunting—this + muling—this moping—this eternal vinegar-face and + ditchwater-spirit?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Ned, but I confess my weakness—my want of courage in + this respect!” + </p> + <p> + “Psho! the bark's worse always than the bite. The fear worse than the + danger! Suspense is the very d—l! Did you ever hear of the Scotch + parson's charity? He prayed that God might suspend Napoleon over the very + jaws of hell—but 'Oh, Lord!' said he, 'dinna let him fa' in!' To my + mind, mortal lips never uttered a more malignant prayer!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. — TRAILING THE FOX. — + </h2> + <p> + This dialogue was broken by a summons to the breakfast-table. We have + already intimated that while the hateful person of Stevens was an inmate + of his own house, William Hinkley remained, the better portion of his + time, at that of his cousin. It was not merely that Stevens was hateful to + his sight, but such was the devotion of his father and mother to that + adventurer, that the young man passed with little notice from either, or + if he incurred their attention at all, it was only to receive their + rebuke. He had not been able to disguise from them his dislike to Stevens. + This dislike showed itself in many ways—in coldness, distance, + silence—a reluctance to accord the necessary civilities, and in very + unequivocal glances of hostility from the eyes of the jealous young + villager. + </p> + <p> + Such offences against good-breeding were considered by them as so many + offences against God himself, shown to one who was about to profess his + ministry; and being prepared to see in Brother Stevens an object of worth + and veneration only, they lacked necessarily all that keenness of + discrimination which might have helped somewhat to qualify the + improprieties of which they believed their son to be guilty. Of his causes + of jealousy they had no suspicion, and they shared none of his + antipathies. He was subject to the daily lecture from the old man, and the + nightly exhortation and expostulation of the old woman. The latter did her + spiriting gently. The former roared and thundered. The mother implored and + kissed—the father denounced and threatened. The one, amidst the + faults of her you which she reproved, could see his virtues; she could + also see that he was suffering—she knew not why—as well as + sinning; the other could only see an insolent, disobedient boy who was + taking airs upon himself, flying in the face of his parents, and doomed to + perish like the sons of Eli, unless by proving himself a better manager + than Eli, he addressed himself in time to the breaking in of the unruly + spirit whose offences promised to be so heinous. It was not merely from + the hateful sight of his rival, or the monotonous expostulation of his + mother, that the poor youth fled; it was sometimes to escape the heavily + chastening hand of his bigoted father. + </p> + <p> + These things worked keenly and constantly in the mind of William Hinkley. + They acquired additional powers of ferment from the coldness of Margaret + Cooper, and from the goadings of his cousin. Naturally one of the gentlest + of creatures, the young man was not deficient in spirit. What seemed to + his more rude and elastic relative a token of imbecility, was nothing more + than the softening influence of his reflective and mental over his + physical powers. These, under the excitement of his blood were necessarily + made subject to his animal impulses, and when he left the house that + morning, with his Blackstone under his arm, on his way to the peaceful + cottage of old Calvert, where he pursued his studies, his mind was in a + perfect state of chaos. Of the chapter which he had striven to compass the + previous night, in which the rights of persons are discussed with the + usual clearness of style, but the usual one-sidedness of judgment of that + smooth old monarchist, William Hinkley scarcely remembered a solitary + syllable. He had read only with his eyes. His mind had kept no pace with + his proceedings, and though he strove as he went along to recall the heads + of topics, the points and principles of what he had been reading, his + efforts at reflection, by insensible but sudden transitions, invariably + concluded with some image of strife and commotion, in which he was one of + the parties and Alfred Stevens another; the beautiful, proud face of + Margaret Cooper being always unaccountably present, and seeming to + countenance, with its scornful smiles, the spirit of strife which operated + upon the combatants. + </p> + <p> + This mood had the most decided effect upon his appearance; and the good + old man, Calvert, whose attention had been already drawn to the condition + of distress and suffering which he manifested, was now more than ever + struck with the seemingly sudden increase of this expression upon his + face. It was Saturday—the saturnalia of schoolboys—and a day + of rest to the venerable teacher. He was seated before his door, under the + shadows of his paternal oak, once more forgetting the baffled aims and + profitless toils of his own youthful ambition, in the fascinating pages of + that historical romancer the stout Abbe Vertot. But a glance at the youth + soon withdrew his mind from this contemplation, and the sombre pages of + the present opened upon his eye, and the doubtful ones of the future + became, on the instant, those which he most desired to peruse. + </p> + <p> + The study of the young is always a study of the past with the old. They + seem, in such a contemplation, to live over the records of memory. They + feel as one just returning from a long and weary journey, who encounters + another, freshly starting to traverse the same weary but inviting track. + Something in the character of William Hinkley, which seemed to resemble + his own, made this feeling yet more active in the mind of Mr. Calvert; and + his earnest desire was to help the youth forward on the path which, he + soon perceived, it was destined that the other should finally take. He was + not satisfied with the indecision of character which the youth displayed. + But how could he blame it harshly? It was in this very respect that his + own character had failed, and though he felt that all his counsels were to + be addressed to this point, yet he knew not where; or in what manner, to + begin. The volume of Blackstone which the youth carried suggested to him a + course, however. He bade the young man bring out a chair, and taking the + book in his hand, he proceeded to examine him upon parts of the volume + which he professed to have been reading. + </p> + <p> + This examination, as it had the effect of compelling the mind of the + student to contract itself to a single subject of thought, necessarily had + the further effect of clearing it somewhat from the chaos of clouds which + had been brooding over it, obscuring the light, and defeating the warmth + of the intellectual sun behind them; and if the examination proved the + youth to have been very little of a student, or one who had been reading + with a vacant mind, it also proved that the original powers of his + intellect were vigorous and various—that he had an analytical + capacity of considerable compass; was bold in opinion, ingenious in + solution, and with a tendency to metaphysical speculation, which, modified + by the active wants and duties of a large city-practice, would have made + him a subtle lawyer, and a very logical debater. But the blush kept + heightening on the youth's cheeks as the examination proceeded. He had + answered, but he felt all the while how much his answer had sprung from + his own conjectures and how little from his authorities. The examination + convinced him that the book had been so much waste-paper under his thumb. + When it was ended the old man closed the volume, laid it on the sward + beside him, and looked, with a mingled expression of interest and + commiseration, on his face. William Hinkley noted this expression, and + spoke, with a degree of mortification in look and accent, which he did not + attempt to hide:— + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, sir, you will make nothing of me. I can make nothing of + myself. I am almost inclined to give up in despair. I will be nothing—I + can be nothing. I feared as much from the beginning, sir. You only waste + your time on me.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak too fast, William—you let your blood mingle too much with + your thoughts. Let me ask you one question. How long will you be content + to live as you do now—seeking nothing—performing nothing—being + nothing?” + </p> + <p> + The youth was silent. + </p> + <p> + “I, you see, am nothing,” continued the old man—“nay, do not + interrupt me. You will tell me, as you have already told me, that I am + much, and have done much, here in Charlemont. But, for all that I am, and + have done here, I need not have gone beyond my accidence. My time has been + wasted; my labors, considered as means to ends, were unnecessary; I have + toiled without the expected profits of toil; I have drawn water in a + sieve. It is not pleasant for me to recall these things, much less to + speak of them; but it is for your good that I told you my story. You have, + as I had, certain defects of character—not the same exactly, but of + the same family complexion. To be something, you must be resolved. You + must devote yourself, heart and mind, with all your soul and with all your + strength, to the business you have undertaken. Shut your windows against + the sunshine, your ears to the song of birds, your heart against the + fascinations of beauty; and if you never think of the last until you are + thirty, you will be then a better judge of beauty, a truer lover, a better + husband, a more certain candidate for happiness. Let me assure you that, + of the hundred men that take wives before they are thirty, there is + scarcely one who, in his secret soul, does not repent it—scarcely + one who does not look back with yearning to the days when he was free.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. The young man became very much agitated. He rose from + his chair, walked apart for a few moments, and then, returning, resumed + his seat by the old man. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are right, sir—nay, I know you are; but I can not be + at once—I can not promise—to be all that you wish. If Margaret + Cooper would consent, I would marry her to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head, but remained silent. The young one proceeded:— + </p> + <p> + “One thing I will say, however: I will take to my studies after this week, + whatever befalls, with the hearty resolution which you recommend. I will + try to shut out the sunshine and the song. I will endeavor to devote soul + and strength, and heart and mind, to the task before me. I KNOW that I can + master these studies—I think I can”—he continued, more + modestly, modifying the positive assertion—“and I know that it is + equally my interest and duty to do so. I thank you sir, very much for what + you have told me. Believe me, it has not fallen upon heedless or + disrespectful ears.” + </p> + <p> + The old man pressed his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I know THAT, my son, and I rejoice to think that, having given me these + assurances, you will strive hard to make them good.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, sir!” replied William, taking up his cap to depart. + </p> + <p> + “But whither are you going now?” + </p> + <p> + The youth blushed as he replied frankly:— + </p> + <p> + “To the widow Cooper's. I'm going to see Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said the old man, as the youth disappeared, “if it must be + done, the sooner it's over the better. But there's another moth to the + flame. Fortunately, he will be singed only; but she!—what is left + for her—so proud, yet so confiding—so confident of strength, + yet so artless? But it is useless to look beyond, and very dismal.” + </p> + <p> + And the speaker once more took up Vertot, and was soon lost amid the + glories of the knights of St. John. His studies were interrupted by the + sudden and boisterous salutation of Ned Hinkley:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, gran'pa, hard at the big book as usual? No end to the fun of + fighting, eh? I confess, if ever I get to love reading, it'll be in some + such book as that. But reading's not natural to me, though you made me do + enough of it while you had me. Bill was the boy for the books, and I for + the hooks. By-the-way, talking of hooks, how did those trout eat? Fine, + eh? I haven't seen you since the day of our ducking.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Ned, and I've been looking for you. Where have you been?” + </p> + <p> + “Working, working! Everything's been going wrong. Lines snapped, + fiddle-strings cracked, hooks missing, gun rusty, and Bill Hinkley so + sulky, that his frown made a shadow on the wall as large and ugly as a + buffalo's. But where is he? I came to find him here.” + </p> + <p> + While he was speaking, the lively youth squatted down, and deliberately + took his seat on the favorite volume which Mr. Calvert had laid upon the + sward at his approach. + </p> + <p> + “Take the chair, Ned,” said the old man, with a smaller degree of kindness + in his tone than was habitual with him. “Take the chair. Books are sacred + things—to be worshipped and studied, not employed as footstools.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what's the hurt, gran'pa?” demanded the young man, though he rose + and did as he was bidden. “If 'twas a fiddle, now, there would be some + danger of a crash, but a big book like that seems naturally made to sit + upon.” + </p> + <p> + The old man answered him mildly:— + </p> + <p> + “I have learned to venerate books, Ned, and can no more bear to see them + abused than I could bear to be abused myself. It seems to me like treating + their writers and their subjects with scorn. If you were to contemplate + the venerable heads of the old knights with my eyes and feelings, you + would see why I wish to guard them from everything like disrespect.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I beg their pardon—a thousand pardons! I meant no offence, + gran'pa—and can't help thinking that it's all a notion of yours, + your reverencing such old Turks and Spaniards that have been dead a + thousand years. They were very good people, no doubt, but I'm thinking + they've served their turn; and I see no more harm in squatting upon their + histories than in walking over their graves, which, if I were in their + country of Jericho—that was where they lived, gran'pa, wa'n't it?—I + should be very apt to do without asking leave, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + Ned Hinkley purposely perverted his geography and history. There was a + spice of mischief in his composition, and he grinned good-naturedly as he + watched the increasing gravity upon the old man's face. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, gran'pa, don't be angry. You know my fun is a sort of fizz—there's + nothing but a flash—nothing to hurt—no shotting. But where's + Bill Hinkley, gran'pa?” + </p> + <p> + “Gone to the widow Cooper's, to see Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, I'm glad he's made a beginning. But I'd much rather he'd have + seen the other first.” + </p> + <p> + “What other do you mean?” demanded the old man; but the speaker, though + sufficiently random and reckless in what he said, saw the impolicy of + allowing the purpose of his cousin in regard to Stevens to be understood. + He contrived to throw the inquirer off. + </p> + <p> + “Gran'pa, do you know there's something in this fellow Stevens that don't + altogether please me? I'm not satisfied with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed! what do you see to find fault with?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, he comes here pretending to study. Now, in the first + place, why should he come here to study? why didn't he stay at home with + his friends and parents?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he had neither. Perhaps he had no home. You might as well ask me + why I came here, and settled down, where I was not born—where I had + neither friends nor parents.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, but you told us why,” said the other. “You gave us a reason for + what you did.” + </p> + <p> + “And why may not the stranger give a reason too?” + </p> + <p> + “He don't, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he will when you get intimate with him. I see nothing in this to + be dissatisfied with. I had not thought you so suspicious, Ned Hinkley—so + little charitable.” + </p> + <p> + “Charity begins at home, gran'pa. But there's more in this matter. This + man comes here to study to be a parson. How does he study? Can you guess?” + </p> + <p> + “I really can not.” + </p> + <p> + “By dressing spruce as a buck—curling his hair backward over his + ears something like a girl's, and going out, morning, noon, and night, to + see Margaret Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “As there is no good reason to suppose that a student of divinity is + entirely without the affections of humanity, I still see nothing + inconsistent with his profession in this conduct.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can he study?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! it may be inconsistent with his studies though not with his + profession. It is human without being altogether proper. You see that your + cousin neglects his studies in the same manner. I presume that the + stranger also loves Miss Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “But he has no such right as Bill Hinkley.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not? Why, Bill is a native here, has been loving her for the last + year or more. His right certainly ought to be much greater than that of a + man whom nobody knows—who may be the man in the moon for anything we + know to the contrary—just dropped in upon us, nobody knows how, to + do nobody knows what.” + </p> + <p> + “All that may be very true, Ned, and yet his right to seek Miss Cooper may + be just as good as that of yourself or mine. You forget that it all + depends upon the young lady herself whether either of them is to have a + right at all in her concerns.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's a subject we needn't dispute about, gran'pa, when there's + other things. Now, isn't it strange that this stranger should ride off + once a week with his valise on his saddle, just as if he was starting on a + journey—should be gone half a day—then come back with his nag + all in a foam, and after that you should see him in some new cravat, or + waistcoat, or pantaloons, just as if he had gone home and got a change?” + </p> + <p> + “And does he do that?” inquired Mr. Calvert, with some show of curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “That he does, and he always takes the same direction; and it seems—so + Aunt Sarah herself says, though she thinks him a small sort of divinity on + earth—that the day before, he's busy writing letters, and, according + to her account, pretty long letters too. Well, nobody sees that he ever + gets any letters in return. He never asks at the post-office, so Jacob + Zandts himself tells me, and that's strange enough, too, if so be he has + any friends or relations anywhere else.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Calvert listened with interest to these and other particulars which + his young companion had gathered respecting the habits of the stranger; + and he concurred with his informant in the opinion that there was + something in his proceedings which was curious and perhaps mysterious. + Still, he did not think it advisable to encourage the prying and + suspicious disposition of the youth, and spoke to this effect in the reply + which finally dismissed the subject. Ned Hinkley was silenced not + satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “There's something wrong about it,” he muttered to himself on leaving the + old man, “and, by dickens! I'll get to the bottom of it, or there's no + taste in Salt-river. The fellow's a rascal; I feel it if I don't know it, + and if Bill Hinkley don't pay him off, I must. One or t'other must do it, + that's certain.” + </p> + <p> + With these reflections, which seemed to him to be no less moral than + social, the young man took his way back to the village, laboring with all + the incoherence of unaccustomed thought, to strike out some process by + which to find a solution for those mysteries which were supposed to + characterize the conduct of the stranger. He had just turned out of the + gorge leading from Calvert's house into the settlement, when he + encountered the person to whom his meditations were given, on horseback; + and going at a moderate gallop along the high-road to the country. Stevens + bowed to him and drew up for speech as he drew nigh. At first Ned Hinkley + appeared disposed to avoid him, but moved by a sudden notion, he stopped + and suffered himself to speak with something more of civility than he had + hitherto shown to the same suspected personage. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you're not going to travel, Parson Stevens,” said he—“you're + not going to leave us, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir—I only wish to give myself and horse a stretch of a few + miles for the sake of health. Too much stable, they say, makes a saucy + nag.” + </p> + <p> + “So it does, and I may say, a saucy man too. But seeing you with your + valise, I thought you were off for good.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens said something about his being so accustomed to ride with the + valise that he carried it without thinking. + </p> + <p> + “I scarcely knew I had it on!” + </p> + <p> + “That's a lie all round,” said Ned Hinkley to himself as the other rode + off. “Now, if I was mounted, I'd ride after him and see where he goes and + what he's after. What's to hinder? It's but a step to the stable, and but + five minutes to the saddle. Dang it, but I'll take trail this time if I + never did before.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. — THE DOOM. + </h2> + <p> + With this determination our suspicious youth made rapid progress in + getting out his horse. A few minutes saw him mounted, and putting some of + his resolution into his heels, he sent the animal forward at a killing + start, under the keen infliction of the spur. He had marked with his eye + the general course which Stevens had taken up the hills, and having a nag + of equal speed and bottom, did not scruple, in the great desire which he + felt, to ascertain the secret of the stranger, to make him display the + qualities of both from the very jump. Stevens had been riding with a free + rein, but in consequence of these energetic measures on the part of + Hinkley, the latter soon succeeded in overhauling him. Still he had + already gone a space of five miles, and this, too, in one direction. He + looked back when he found himself pursued, and his countenance very + clearly expressed the chagrin which he felt. This he strove, but with very + indifferent success, to hide from the keen searching eyes of his pursuer. + He drew up to wait his coming, and there was a dash of bitterness in his + tones as he expressed his “gratification at finding a companion where he + least expected one.” + </p> + <p> + “And perhaps, parson, when you didn't altogether wish for one,” was the + reply of the reckless fellow. “The truth is, I know I'm not the sort of + company that a wise, sensible, learned, and pious young gentleman would + like to keep, out the truth is what you said about taking a stretch, man + and beast, seemed to me to be just about as wise a thing for me and my + beast also. We've been lying by so long that I was getting a little stiff + in my joints, and Flipflap, my nag here, was getting stiff in his neck, as + they say was the case with the Jews in old times, so I took your idea and + put after you, thinking that you'd agree with me that bad company's far + better than none.” + </p> + <p> + There was a mixture of simplicity and archness in the manner of the + speaker that put Stevens somewhat at fault; but he saw that it wouldn't do + to show the dudgeon which he really felt; and smoothing his quills with as + little obvious effort as possible, he expressed his pleasure at the coming + of his companion. While doing so, he wheeled his horse about, and + signified a determination to return. + </p> + <p> + “What! so soon? Why, Lord bless you, Flipflap has scarcely got in motion + yet. If such a stir will do for your nag 'twont do for him.” + </p> + <p> + But Stevens doggedly kept his horse's head along the back track, though + the animal himself exhibited no small restlessness and a disposition to go + forward. + </p> + <p> + “Well, really, Parson Stevens, I take it as unkind that you turn back + almost the very moment I join you. I seem to have scared ride out of you + if not out of your creature; but do as you please. I'll ride on, now I'm + out. I don't want to force myself on any man for company.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens disclaimed any feeling of this sort, but declared he had ridden + quite as far as he intended; and while he hesitated, Hinkley cut the + matter short by putting spurs to his steed, and going out of sight in a + moment. + </p> + <p> + “What can the cur mean?” demanded Stevens of himself, the moment after + they had separated. “Can he have any suspicions? Ha! I must be watchful! + At all events, there's no going forward to-day. I must put it off for next + week; and meanwhile have all my eyes about me. The fellow seems to have as + much cunning as simplicity. He is disposed too, to be insolent I marked + his manner at the lake, as well as that of his bull-headed cousin; but + that sousing put anger out of me, and then, again, 'twill scarcely do in + these good days for such holy men as myself to take up cudgels. I must + bear it for awhile as quietly as possible. It will not be long. She at + least is suspicionless. Never did creature so happily delude herself. Yet + what a judgment in some things! What keen discrimination! What a wild, + governless imagination! She would be a prize, if it were only to exhibit. + How she would startle the dull, insipid, tea-table simperers on our + Helicon—nay, with what scorn she would traverse the Helicon itself. + The devil is that she would have a will in spite of her keeper. Such an + animal is never tamed. There could be no prescribing to her the time when + she should roar—no teaching her to fawn and fondle, and not to rend. + Soul, and eye, and tongue, would speak under the one impulse, in the + exciting moment; and when Mrs. Singalongohnay was squeaking out her + eternal requiems—her new versions of the Psalms and Scriptures—her + blank verse elegiacs—oh! how blank!—beginning, 'Night was upon + the hills,'—or 'The evening veil hung low,' or, 'It slept,'—or + after some other equally threatening form and fashion—I can fancy + how the bright eye of Margaret would gleam with scorn; and while the + Pollies and Dollies, the Patties and Jennies, the Corydons and Jemmy + Jesamies, all round were throwing up hands and eyes in a sort of rapture, + how she would look, with what equal surprise and contempt, doubting her + own ears, and sickening at the stuff and the strange sycophancy which + induced it. And should good old Singalongohnay, with a natural and + patronizing visage, approach, and venture to talk to her about poetry, + with that assured smile of self-excellence which such a venerable + authority naturally employs, how she would turn upon the dame and exclaim—'What! + do you call that poetry?' What a concussion would follow. How the + simperers would sheer off; the tea that night might as well be made of + aqua-fortis. Ha! ha! I can fancy the scene before me. Nothing could be + more rich. I must give her a glimpse of such a scene. It will be a very + good mode of operation. Her pride and vanity will do the rest. I have only + to intimate the future sway—the exclusive sovereignty which would + follow—the overthrow of the ancient idols, and the setting up of a + true divinity in herself. But shall it be so, Master Stevens? Verily, that + will be seen hereafter. Enough, if the delusion takes. If I can delude the + woman through the muse, I am satisfied. The muse after that may dispose of + the woman as she pleases.” + </p> + <p> + Such was a portion of the soliloquy of the libertine as he rode slowly + back to Charlemont. His further musings we need not pursue at present. It + is enough to say that they were of the same family character. He returned + to his room as soon as he reached his lodging-house, and drawing from his + pocket a bundle of letters which he had intended putting in the postoffice + at Ellisland, he carefully locked them up in his portable writing-desk + which he kept at the bottom of his valise. When the devout Mrs. Hinkley + tapped at his door to summon him to dinner, the meritorious young man was + to be seen, seated at his table, with the massive Bible of the family + conspicuously open before him. Good young man! never did he invoke a + blessing on the meats with more holy unction than on that very day. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, let us resume our progress with William Hinkley, and inquire in + what manner his wooing sped with the woman whom he so unwisely loved. We + have seen him leaving the cottage of Mr. Calvert with the avowed purpose + of seeking a final answer. A purpose from which the old man did not seek + to dissuade him, though he readily conceived its fruitlessness. It was + with no composed spirit that the young rustic felt himself approaching the + house of Mrs. Cooper. More than once he hesitated and even halted. But a + feeling of shame, and the efforts of returning manliness re-resolved him, + and he hurried with an unwonted rapidity of movement toward the dwelling, + as if he distrusted his own power, unless he did so, to conclude the labor + he had begun. + </p> + <p> + He gathered some courage when he found that Margaret was from home. She + had gone on her usual rambles. Mrs. Cooper pointed out the course which + she had taken, and the young man set off in pursuit. The walks of the + maiden were of course well known to a lover so devoted. He had sought and + followed her a thousand times, and the general direction which she had + gone, once known, his progress was as direct as his discoveries were + certain. The heart of the youth, dilated with better hopes as he felt + himself traversing the old familiar paths. It seemed to him that the fates + could scarcely be adverse in a region which had always been so friendly. + Often had he escorted her along this very route, when their spirits better + harmonized—when, more of the girl struggling into womanhood, the + mind of Margaret Cooper, ignorant of its own resources and unconscious of + its maturer desires, was more gentle, and could rejoice in that + companionship for which she now betrayed so little desire. The sheltered + paths and well-known trees, even the little clumps of shrubbery that + filled up the intervals, were too pleasant and familiar to his eye not to + seem favorable to his progress, and with a hope that had no foundation, + save in the warm and descriptive colors of a young heart's fancy, William + Hinkley pursued the route which led him to one of the most lovely and + love-haunted glades in all Kentucky. + </p> + <p> + So sweet a hush never hallowed the sabbath rest of any forest. The very + murmur of a drowsy zephyr among the leaves was of slumberous tendency; and + silence prevailed, with the least possible exertion of her authority, over + the long narrow dell through which the maiden had gone wandering. At the + foot of a long slope, to which his eye was conducted by a natural and + lovely vista, the youth beheld the object of his search, sitting, + motionless, with her back toward him. The reach of light was bounded by + her figure which was seated on the decaying trunk of a fallen tree. She + was deeply wrapped in thought, for she did not observe his approach, and + when his voice reached her ears, and she started and looked round, her + eyes were full of tears. These she hastily brushed away, and met the young + man with a degree of composure which well might have put the blush upon + his cheek, for the want of it. + </p> + <p> + “In tears!—weeping, Margaret?” was the first address of the lover + who necessarily felt shocked at what he saw. + </p> + <p> + “They were secret tears, sir—not meant for other eyes,” was the + reproachful reply. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Margaret! but why should you have secret tears, when you might have + sympathy—why should you have tears at all? You have no sorrows.” + </p> + <p> + “Sympathy!” was the exclamation of the maiden, while a scornful smile + gleamed from her eyes; “whose sympathy, I pray?” + </p> + <p> + The young man hesitated to answer. The expression of her eye discouraged + him. He dreaded lest, in offering his sympathies, he should extort from + her lips a more direct intimation of that scorn which he feared. He chose + a middle course. + </p> + <p> + “But that you should have sorrows, Margaret, seems very strange to me. You + are young and hearty; endowed beyond most of your sex, and with a beauty + which can not be too much admired. Your mother is hearty and happy, and + for years you have had no loss of relations to deplore. I see not why you + should have sorrows.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very likely, William Hinkley, that you do not see. The ordinary + sorrows of mankind arise from the loss of wives and cattle, children and + property. There are sorrows of another kind; sorrows of the soul; the + consciousness of denial; of strife—strife to be continued—strife + without victory—baffled hopes—defeated aims and energies. + These are sorrows which are not often computed in the general account. It + is highly probable that none of them afflict you. You have your parents, + and very good people they are. You yourself are no doubt a very good young + man—so everybody says—and you have health and strength. + Besides, you have property, much more, I am told, than falls to the lot + ordinarily of young people in this country. These are reasons why you + should not feel any sorrow; but were all these mine and a great deal more, + I'm afraid it would not make me any more contented. You, perhaps, will not + understand this, William Hinkley, but I assure you that such, nevertheless + is my perfect conviction.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can, and do understand it, Margaret,” said the young man, with + flushed cheek and a very tremulous voice, as he listened to language + which, though not intended to be contemptuous, was yet distinctly colored + by that scornful estimate which the maiden had long since made of the + young man's abilities. In this respect she had done injustice to his mind, + which had been kept in subjection and deprived of its ordinary strength + and courage, by the enfeebling fondness of his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Margaret,” he continued, “I can and do understand it, and I too have + my sorrows of this very sort. Do not smile, Margaret, but hear me + patiently, and believe, that, whatever may be the error which I commit, I + have no purpose to offend you in what I say or do. Perhaps, we are both of + us quite too young to speak of the sorrows which arise from defeated + hopes, or baffled energies, or denial of our rights and claims. The + yearnings and apprehensions which we are apt to feel of this sort are not + to be counted as sorrows, or confounded with them. I had a conversation on + this very subject only a few days ago, with old Mr. Calvert, and this was + his very opinion.” + </p> + <p> + The frankness with which William Hinkley declared the source of his + opinions, though creditable to his sincerity, was scarcely politic—it + served to confirm Margaret Cooper in the humble estimate which she had + formed of the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Calvert,” said she, “is a very sensible old man, but neither he nor + you can enter into the heart of another and say what shall, or what shall + not be its source of trouble. It is enough, William Hinkley, that I have + my cares—at least I fancy that I have them—and though I am + very grateful for your sympathies, I do not know that they can do me any + good, and, though I thank you, I must yet decline them.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do not say so, Margaret—dear Margaret—it is to proffer + them that I seek you now. You know how long I have sought you, and loved + you: you can not know how dear you are to my eyes, how necessary to my + happiness! Do not repulse me—do not speak quickly. What I am, and + what I have, is yours. We have grown up together; I have known no other + hope, no other love, but that for you. Look not upon me with that scornful + glance—hear me—I implore you—on my knee, dear Margaret. + I implore you as for life—for something more dear than life—that + which will make life precious—which may make it valuable. Be mine, + dear Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “Rise, William Hinkley, and do not forget yourself!” was the stern, almost + deliberate answer of the maiden. + </p> + <p> + “Do not, I pray you, do not speak in those tones, dear Margaret—do + not look on me with those eyes. Remember before you speak, that the + dearest hope of a devoted heart hangs upon your lips.” + </p> + <p> + “And what have you seen in me, or what does your vain conceit behold in + yourself, William Hinkley, to make you entertain a hope?” + </p> + <p> + “The meanest creature has it.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but only of creatures like itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret!” exclaimed the lover starting to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sir, I say it. If the meanest creature has its hope, it relates to a + creature like itself—endowed with its own nature and fed with like + sympathies. But you—what should make you hope of me? Have I not long + avoided you, discouraged you? I would have spared you the pain of this + moment by escaping it myself. You haunt my steps—you pursue me—you + annoy me with attentions which I dare not receive for fear of encouraging + you, and in spite of all this, which everybody in the village must have + seen but yourself, you still press yourself upon me.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret Cooper, be not so proud!” + </p> + <p> + “I am what I am! I know that I am proud—vain, perhaps, and having + little to justify either pride or vanity; but to you, William Hinkley, as + an act of justice, I must speak what I feel—what is the truth. I am + sorry, from my very soul, that you love me, for I can have no feeling for + you in return. I do not dislike you, but you have so oppressed me that I + would prefer not to see you. We have no feelings in common. You can give + me no sympathies. My soul, my heart, my hope—every desire of my + mind, every impulse of my heart, leads me away from you—from all + that you can give—from all that you can relish. To you it would + suffice, if all your life could be spent here in Charlemont—to me it + would be death to think that any such doom hung over me. From this one + sentiment judge of the rest, and know, for good and all, that I can never + feel for you other than I feel now. I can not love you, nor can the + knowledge that you love me, give me any but a feeling of pain and + mortification.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley had risen to his feet. His form had put on an unusual + erectness. His eye had gradually become composed; and now it wore an + expression of firmness almost amounting to defiance. He heard her with + only an occasional quiver of the muscles about his mouth. The flush of + shame and pride was still red upon his cheek When she had finished, he + spoke to her in tones of more dignity than had hitherto marked his speech. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret Cooper, you have at least chosen the plainest language to + declare a cruel truth.” + </p> + <p> + The cheek of the girl became suddenly flushed. + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose,” she said, “that I found pleasure in giving you pain? No! + William Hinkley, I am sorry for you! But this truth, which you call cruel, + was shown to you repeatedly before. Any man but yourself would have seen + it, and saved me the pain of its frequent repetition. You alone refused to + understand, until it was rendered cruel. It was only by the plainest + language that you could be made to believe a truth that you either would + not or could not otherwise be persuaded to hear. If cold looks, reserved + answers, and a determined rejection of all familiarity could have availed, + you would never have heard from my lips a solitary word which could have + brought you mortification. You would have seen my feelings in my conduct, + and would have spared your own that pain, which I religiously strove to + save them.” + </p> + <p> + “I have, indeed, been blind and deaf,” said the young man; “but you have + opened my eyes and ears, Margaret, so that I am fully cured of these + infirmities. If your purpose, in this plain mode of speech, be such as you + have declared it, then I must thank you; though it is very much as one + would thank the dagger that puts him out of his pain by putting him out of + life.” + </p> + <p> + There was so much of subdued feeling in this address—the more + intense in its effect, from the obvious restraint put upon it, that the + heart of the maiden was touched. The dignified bearing of the young man, + also—so different from that which marked his deportment hitherto—was + not without its effect. + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, William Hinkley, that such alone was my motive for what + else would seem a most wanton harshness. I would not be harsh to you or to + anybody; and with my firm rejection of your proffer, I give you my regrets + that you ever made it. It gives me no pleasure that you should make it. If + I am vain, my vanity is not flattered or quickened by a tribute which I + can not accept; and if you never had my sympathy before, William Hinkley, + I freely give it now. Once more I tell you, I am sorry, from the bottom of + my heart, that you ever felt for me a passion which I can not requite, and + that you did not stifle it from the beginning; as, Heaven knows, my + bearing toward you, for a whole year, seemed to me to convey sufficient + warning.” + </p> + <p> + “It should have done so! I can now very easily understand it, Margaret. + Indeed, Mr. Calvert and others told me the same thing. But as I have said, + I was blind and deaf. Once more, I thank you, Margaret—it is a + bitter medicine which you have given me, but I trust a wholesome one.” + </p> + <p> + He caught her hand and pressed it in his own. She did not resist or + withdraw it, and, after the retention of an instant only, he released it, + and was about to turn away. A big tear was gathering in his eye, and he + strove to conceal it. Margaret averted her head, and was about to move + forward in an opposite direction, when the voice of the young man arrested + her:— + </p> + <p> + “Stay, but a few moments more, Margaret. Perhaps we shall never meet again—certainly + not in a conference like this. I may have no other opportunity to say that + which, in justice to you, should be spoken. Will you listen to me, + patiently?” + </p> + <p> + “Speak boldly, William Hinkley. It was the subject of which you spoke + heretofore which I shrunk from rather than the speaker.” + </p> + <p> + “I know not,” said he, “whether the subject of which I propose to speak + now will be any more agreeable than that of which we have spoken. At all + events, my purpose is your good, and I shall speak unreservedly. You have + refused the prayer of one heart, Margaret, which, if unworthy of yours, + was yet honestly and fervently devoted to it. Let me warn you to look well + when you do choose, lest you fall into the snares of one, who with more + talent may be less devoted, and with more claims to admiration, may be far + less honest in his purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “What mean you, sir?” she demanded hurriedly, with an increasing glow upon + her face. + </p> + <p> + “This stranger—this man, Stevens!” + </p> + <p> + “What of him? What do you know of the stranger that you should give me + this warning?” + </p> + <p> + “What does anybody know of him? Whence does he come—whither would he + go? What brings him here to this lonely village?—” + </p> + <p> + A proud smile which curled the lips of Margaret Cooper arrested the speech + of the youth. It seemed to say, very distinctly, that she, at least, could + very well conjecture what brought the stranger so far from the travelled + haunts. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! do you then know, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “And if I did not, William Hinkley, these base insinuations against the + man, of whom, knowing nothing, you would still convey the worst + imputations, would never move my mind a hair's breadth from its proper + balance. Go, sir—you have your answer. I need not your counsel. I + should be sorry to receive it from such a source. Failing in your own + attempt, you would seek to fill my mind with calumnious impressions in + order to prejudice the prospects of another. For shame! for shame, William + Hinkley. I had not thought this of you. But go! go! go, at once, lest I + learn to loathe as well as despise you. I thought you simple and foolish, + but honorable and generous. I was mistaken even in this. Go, sir, your + slanderous insinuations have no effect upon me, and as for Alfred Stevens, + you are as far below him in nobleness and honest purpose, as you are in + every quality of taste and intellect.” + </p> + <p> + Her face was the very breathing image of idealized scorn and beauty as she + uttered these stinging words. Her nostrils were dilated, her eyes flashing + fire, her lips slightly protruded and parted, her hand waving him off. The + young man gazed upon her with wild looks equally expressive of anger and + agony. His form fairly writhed beneath his emotions; but he found strength + enough gaspingly to exclaim:— + </p> + <p> + “And even this I forgive you, Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + “Go! go!” she answered; “you know not what you say, or what you are. Go! + go!” + </p> + <p> + And turning away, she moved slowly up the long avenue before her, till, by + a sudden turn of the path she was hidden from the sight. Then, when his + eye could no longer follow her form, the agony of his soul burst forth in + a single groan, and staggering, he fell forward upon the sward, hopeless, + reckless, in a wretched condition of self-abandonment and despair. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. — BLOWS—A CRISIS. + </h2> + <p> + But this mood lasted not long. Youth, pride, anger, asserted themselves + before the lapse of many minutes. Darker feelings got possession of his + mind. He rose to his feet. If love was baffled, was there not revenge? + Then came the recollection of his cousin's counsel. Should this artful + stranger triumph in everything? Margaret Cooper had scarcely disguised the + interest which she felt in him. Nay, had not that exulting glance of the + eye declared that she, at least, knew what was the purpose of Stevens in + seeking the secluded village? His own wrongs were also present to his + mind. This usurper had possessed himself of the affections of all he loved—of + all of whose love he had till then felt himself secure—all but the + good old schoolmaster, and the sturdy schoolmate and cousin. And how soon + might he deprive him even of these? That was a new fear! So rapid had been + the stranger's progress—so adroitly had he insinuated himself into + this Eden of the wilderness—bringing discontent and suffering in his + train—that the now thoroughly-miserable youth began to fancy that + nothing could be safe from his influence. In a short time his garden would + all be overrun, and his loveliest plants would wither. + </p> + <p> + Was there no remedy for this? There was! and traversing the solemn + recesses of that wood, he meditated the various modes by which the redress + of wrong, and slight and indignity, were to be sought. He brooded over + images of strife, and dark and savage ideas of power rioting over its + victim, with entirely new feelings—feelings new at least to him. We + have not succeeded in doing him justice, nor in our own design, if we have + failed to show that he was naturally gentle of heart, rigidly + conscientious, a lover of justice for its own sake, and solicitously + sensitive on the subject of another's feelings. But the sense of suffering + will blind the best judgment, and the feeling of injury will arouse and + irritate the gentlest nature. Besides, William Hinkley, though meek and + conscientious, had not passed through his youth, in the beautiful but wild + border country in which he lived, without having been informed, and + somewhat influenced, by those characteristic ideas of the modes and manner + in which personal wrongs were to be redressed. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps, had his cousin said nothing to him on this subject, his feelings + would have had very much the same tendency and general direction which + they were taking now. A dark and somewhat pleasurable anxiety to be in + conflict with his rival—a deadly conflict—a close, hard + death-struggle—was now the predominant feeling in his mind;—but + the feeling was not ALTOGETHER a pleasurable one. It had its pains and + humiliations, also. Not that he had any fears—any dread of the + issue. Of the issue he never thought. But it disturbed the long and + peaceful order of his life. It conflicted with the subdued tastes of the + student. It was at war with that gentle calm of atmosphere, which letters + diffuse around the bower of the muse. + </p> + <p> + In the conflict of his thoughts and feelings, the judgment of the youth + was impaired. He forgot his prudence. In fact, he knew not what he did. He + entered the dwelling of his father, and passed into the dining-room, at + that solemn moment when the grace before meat was yet in course of + utterance by our worthy Brother Stevens. Hitherto, old Mr. Hinkley had + religiously exacted that, whenever any of the household failed to be + present in season, this ceremony should never be disturbed. They were + required, hat in hand, to remain at the entrance, until the benediction + had been implored; and, only after the audible utterance of the word + “Amen,” to approach the cloth. + </p> + <p> + We have shown little of old Hinkley. It has not been necessary. The reader + has seen enough, however, to understand that, in religious matters—at + least in the forms and externals of religion—he was a rigid + disciplinarian. Upon grace before and after meat he always insisted. His + own prayers of this sort might have been unctuous, but they were never + short; and the meats were very apt to grow cold, while the impatience of + his hearers grew warm, before he finished. But through respect to the + profession, he waived his own peculiar privilege in behalf of Brother + Stevens; and this holy brother was in the middle of his entreaty, when + William Hinkley appeared at the door. He paused for an instant without + taking off his hat. Perhaps had his father been engaged in his office, + William would have forborne, as usual, however long the grace, and have + patiently waited without, hat off, until it had reached the legitimate + conclusion. But he had no such veneration for Stevens; and without scruple + he dashed, rather hastily, into the apartment, and flinging his hat upon a + chair, strode at once to the table. + </p> + <p> + The old man did not once raise his eyes until the prayer was over. He + would not have done so had the house been on fire. But at the close, he + looked up at his son with a brow of thunder. The cloud was of serious and + very unusual blackness. He had for some time been dissatisfied with his + son. He had seen that the youth entertained some aversion for his guest. + Besides, he had learned from his worthy consort, that, in an endeavor of + Brother Stevens to bestow good counsel upon the youth, he had been + repulsed with as little respect as ceremony. There was one thing that the + stern old man had not seen, and could not see; and that was the altered + appearance of the lad. As he knew of no reason why he should be unhappy, + so he failed to perceive in his appearance any of the signs of + unhappiness. He saw nothing but the violation of his laws, and that sort + of self-esteem which produces fanaticism, is always the most rigid in the + enforcement of its own ordinances. Already he regarded the youth as in a + state of rebellion and for such an offence his feeling was very much that + of the ancient puritan. No one more insists upon duty, than he who has + attained authority by flinging off the fetters of obedience. Your toughest + sinner usually makes the sourest saint. + </p> + <p> + “And is this the way, William Hinkley, that you show respect to God? Do + you despise the blessing which Brother Stevens asks upon the food which + sustains us?” + </p> + <p> + “I presume, sir, that God has already blessed all the food which he + bestows upon man. I do not think that any prayer of Brother Stevens can + render it more blessed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! you do not, do you? Please to rise from this table.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sir—” began Stevens. + </p> + <p> + “Rise, sir,” continued the old man, laying down knife and fork, and + confronting the offender with that dogged look of determination which in a + coarse nature is the sure sign of moral inflexibility. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive him, sir, this time,” said Stevens; “I entreat you to forgive + him. The young man knows not what he does.” + </p> + <p> + “I will make him know,” continued the other. + </p> + <p> + “Plead not for me, sir,” said William Hinkley, glaring upon Stevens with + something of that expression which in western parlance is called wolfish, + “I scorn and spurn your interference.” + </p> + <p> + “William, William, my dear son, do not speak so—do not make your + father angry.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you leave the table, sir, or not?” demanded the father, his words + being spoken very slowly, through his teeth, and with the effort of one + who seeks to conceal the growing agitation. The eyes of the mother fell + upon the youth full of tears and entreaty. His fine countenance betrayed + the conflicting emotions of his soul. There was grief, and anger, despair + and defiance; the consciousness of being wrong, and the more painful + consciousness of suffering wrong. He half started from his chair, again + resumed it, and gazing upon Stevens with the hate and agony which he felt, + seemed to be entirely forgetful of the words and presence of the father. + The old man deliberately rose from the table and left the room. The mother + now started up in an agony of fear. + </p> + <p> + “Run, my son—leave the room before your father comes back. Speak to + him, Brother Stevens, and tell him of the danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not call upon him, mother, if you would not have me defy you also. If + YOUR words will not avail with me, be sure that his can not.” + </p> + <p> + “What mean you, my son? You surely have no cause to be angry with Brother + Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “No cause! no cause!—but it matters not! BROTHER Stevens knows that + I have cause. He has heard my defiance—he knows my scorn and hate, + and he shall feel them!” + </p> + <p> + “William, my son, how—” + </p> + <p> + The steps of the father, approaching through the passageway, diverted her + mind to a new terror. She knew the vindictive and harsh nature of the old + man; and apprehensions for her son superseded the feeling of anger which + his language had provoked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my son, be submissive, or fly. Jump out of the window, and leave + Brother Stevens and me to pacify him. We will do all we can.” + </p> + <p> + The unlucky allusion to Brother Stevens only increased the young man's + obstinacy. + </p> + <p> + “I ask you not, mother. I wish you to do nothing, and to say nothing. Here + I will remain. I will not fly. It will be for my father and mother to say + whether they will expel their only son from their home, to make room for a + stranger.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall not be said that I have been the cause of this,” said Stevens, + rising with dignity from his chair; “I will leave your house, Mrs. + Hinkley, only regretting that I should be the innocent cause of any + misunderstanding or discontent among its members. I know not exactly what + can be the meaning of your son's conduct. I have never offended him; but, + as my presence does offend him, I will withdraw myself—” + </p> + <p> + “You shall not!” exclaimed old Hinkley, who re-entered the room at this + moment, and had heard the last words of the speaker. “You shall not leave + the house. Had I fifty sons, and they were all to behave in the manner of + this viper, they should all leave it before you should stir from the + threshold.” + </p> + <p> + The old man brought with him a cowskin; and the maternal apprehensions of + his wife, who knew his severe and determined disposition, were now + awakened to such a degree as to overcome the feeling of deference, if not + fear, with which the authority of her liege lord had always inspired her. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hinkley, you won't strike William with that whip—you must not—you + shall not!” and, speaking thus, she started up and threw herself in the + old man's way. He put her aside with no measured movement of his arm, and + approached the side of the table where the young man sat. + </p> + <p> + “Run, William, run, if you love me!” cried the terrified mother. + </p> + <p> + “I will not run!” was the answer of the youth, who rose from his seat, + however, at the same moment and confronted his father. + </p> + <p> + “Do not strike me, father! I warn you—do not strike me. I may be + wrong, but I have suffered wrong. I did not mean, and do not mean, to + offend you. Let that content you, but do not strike me.” + </p> + <p> + The answer was a blow. The whip descended once, and but once, upon the + shoulders of the young man. His whole frame was in a convulsion. His eyes + dilated with the anguish of his soul; his features worked spasmodically. + There was a moment's hesitation. The arm that smote him was again uplifted—the + cruel and degrading instrument of punishment a second time about to + descend; when, with the strength of youth, and the determination of + manhood, the son grasped the arm of the father, and without any more than + the degree of violence necessary to effect his object, he tore the weapon + from the uplifted hand. + </p> + <p> + “I can not strike YOU.'” he exclaimed, addressing the old man. “That blow + has lost you your son—for ever! The shame and the dishonor shall + rest on other shoulders. They are better deserved here, and here I place + them!” + </p> + <p> + With these words, he smote Stevens over the shoulders, once, twice, + thrice, before the latter could close with him, or the father interfere to + arrest the attempt. Stevens sprang upon him, but the more athletic + countryman flung him off, and still maintained his weapon. The father + added his efforts to those of Stevens; but he shook himself free from + both, and, by this time, the mother had contrived to place herself between + the parties. William Hinkley then flung the whip from the window, and + moved toward the door. In passing Stevens, he muttered a few words:— + </p> + <p> + “If there is any skin beneath the cloak of the parson, I trust I have + reached it.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough!” said the other, in the same low tone. “You shall have your + wish.” + </p> + <p> + The youth looked back once, with tearful eyes, upon his mother; and making + no other answer but a glance more full of sorrow than anger to the furious + flood of denunciation which the old man continued to pour forth, he + proceeded slowly from the apartment and the dwelling. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI. — CHALLENGE. + </h2> + <p> + The whole scene passed in very few minutes. No time was given for + reflection, and each of the parties obeyed his natural or habitual + impulses. Old Hinkley, except when at prayers, was a man of few words. He + was much more prompt at deeds than words—a proof of which has + already been shown; but the good mother was not so patient, and made a + freer use of the feminine weapon than we have been willing to inflict upon + our readers. Though she heartily disapproved of her son's conduct toward + Stevens, and regarded it as one of the most unaccountable wonders, the + offender was still her son. She never once forgot, or could forget, that. + But the rage of the old man was unappeasable. The indignity to his guest, + and that guest of a calling so sacred, was past all forgiveness, as it was + past all his powers of language fitly to describe. He swore to pursue the + offender with his wrath to the end of the world, to cut him off equally + from his fortune and forgiveness; and when Brother Stevens, endeavoring to + maintain the pacific and forgiving character which his profession + required, uttered some commonplace pleading in the youth's behalf, he + silenced him by saying that, “were he on the bed of death, and were the + offender then to present himself, the last prayer that he should make to + Heaven would be for sufficient strength to rise up and complete the + punishment which he had then begun.” + </p> + <p> + As for Stevens, though he professed a more charitable spirit, his feelings + were quite as hostile, and much more deadly. He was not without that + conventional courage which makes one, in certain states of society, prompt + enough to place himself in the fields of the duello. To this condition of + preparedness it has hitherto been the training of the West that every man, + at all solicitous of public life, must eventually come. As a student of + divinity, it was not a necessity with Alfred Stevens. Nay, it was + essential to the character which he professed that he should eschew such a + mode of arbitrament. But he reasoned on this subject, as well with + reference to past habits as to future responsibilities. His present + profession being simply a ruse d'amour (and, as he already began to + perceive, a harmless one in the eyes of the beauty whom he sought, and + whose intense feelings and unregulated mind did not suffer her to perceive + the serious defects of a character which should attempt so impious a + fraud), he was beginning to be somewhat indifferent to its preservation; + and, with the decline of his caution in this respect, arose the natural + inquiry as to what would be expected of him in his former relations to + society. Should it ever be known hereafter, at a time when he stood before + the people as a candidate for some high political trust, that he had + tamely submitted to the infliction of a cowskin, the revelation would be + fatal to all his hopes of ambition, and conclusive against all his social + pretensions. In short, so far as society was concerned, it would be his + social death. + </p> + <p> + These considerations were felt in their fullest force. Indeed, their force + can not well be conceived by the citizen of any community where the sense + of individual responsibility is less rigid and exacting. They naturally + outweighed all others in the mind of Alfred Stevens; and, though no + fire-eater, he not only resolved on fighting with Hinkley, but, smarting + under the strokes of the cowskin—heavily laid on as they had been—his + resolution was equally firm that, in the conflict, they should not + separate until blood was drawn. Of course, there were some difficulties to + be overcome in bringing about the meeting, but, where the parties are + willing, most difficulties are surmounted with tolerable ease. This being + the case at present, it followed that both minds were busy at the same + moment in devising the when, the how, and the where, of the encounter. + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley went from the house of his father to that of his cousin; + but the latter had not yet returned from that ride which he had taken in + order to discover the course usually pursued by Stevens. Here he sat down + to dinner, but the sister of Ned Hinkley observed that he ate little, and + fancied he was sick. That he should come to dine with his cousin was too + frequent a matter to occasion question or surprise. This lady was older + than her brother by some seven years. She was a widow, with an only child, + a girl. The child was a prattling, smiling, good-natured thing, about + seven years old, who was never so happy as when on Cousin William's knee. + Poor William, indeed, was quite a favorite at every house in the village + except that of Margaret Cooper, and, as he sometimes used bitterly to add, + his own. On this occasion, however, the child was rendered unhappy by the + seeming indifference of Cousin William. The heart of the young man was too + full of grief, and his mind of anxiety, to suffer him to bestow the usual + caresses upon her; and when, putting her down, he passed into the chamber + of Ned Hinkley, the little thing went off to her mother, to complain of + the neglect she had undergone. + </p> + <p> + “Cousin William don't love Susan any more, mamma,” was the burden of her + complaint. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you say so, Susan?” + </p> + <p> + “He don't kiss me, mamma; he don't keep me in his lap. He don't say good + things to me, and call me his little sweetheart. I'm afraid Cousin + William's got some other sweetheart. He don't love Susan.” + </p> + <p> + It was while the little prattler was pouring forth her infantile sorrows + in her mother's ear, that the voice of William Hinkley was heard, calling + her name from the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “There, he's calling you now, Susan. Run to him and kiss him, and see what + he wants. I'm sure he loves you just as much as ever. He's got no other + sweetheart.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll run, mamma—that I will. I'm so glad! I hope he loves me!” and + the little innocent scampered away to the chamber. Her artless tongue, as + she approached, enabled him to perceive what had been her grievances. + </p> + <p> + “Do you call me to love me, and to kiss me, Cousin William, and to make me + your sweetheart again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Susan, you shall be my only sweetheart. I will kiss nobody but you.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll forget—you will—you'll put me out of your lap, and go + away shaking your head, and looking so!—” and here the observant + little creature attempted a childish imitation of the sad action and the + strange, moody gestures with which he had put her down when he was + retiring from the room—gestures and looks which the less quick eyes + of her mother had failed utterly to perceive. + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said he, with a sad smile; “no, Susan. I'll keep you in my lap + for an hour whenever I come, and you shall be my sweetheart always.” + </p> + <p> + “Your LITTLE sweetheart, your LITTLE Susan, Cousin William.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my dear little Susan, my dearest little sweetheart Susan.” + </p> + <p> + And he kissed the child fondly while he spoke, and patted her rosy cheeks + with a degree of tenderness which his sad and wandering thoughts did not + materially diminish. + </p> + <p> + “But now, Susan,” said he, “if I am to be your sweetheart, and to love you + always, you must do all that I bid you. You must go where I send you.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I, Cousin William? When you send me to Gran'pa Calvert, don't I go + and bring you books, and didn't I always run, and come back soon, and + never play by the way?” + </p> + <p> + “You're a dear Susan,” said he; “and I want you to carry a paper for me + now. Do you see this little paper? What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “A note—don't I know?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you must carry this note for me to uncle's, but you mustn't give it + to uncle, nor to aunty, nor to anybody but the young man that lives there—young + Mr. Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “Parson Stevens,” said the little thing, correcting him. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, Parson Stevens, if you please. You must give it to him, and him + only; and he will give you a paper to bring back to me. Will you go now, + Susan?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll go: but, Cousin William, are you going to shoot the little + guns? Don't shoot them till I come back, will you?” + </p> + <p> + The child pointed to a pair of pistols which lay upon the table where + William Hinkley had penned the billet. A flush of consciousness passed + over the young man's cheek. It seemed to him as if the little innocent's + inquiry had taken the aspect of an accusation. He promised and dismissed + her, and, when she had disappeared, proceeded to put the pistols in some + condition for use. In that time and region, duels were not often fought + with those costly and powerful weapons, the pistols of rifle bore and + sight. The rifle, or the ordinary horseman's pistol, answered the purposes + of hate. The former instrument, in the hands of the Kentuckian, was a + deadly weapon always; and, in the grasp of a firm hand, and under the + direction of a practised eye, the latter, at ten paces, was scarcely less + so. This being the case, but few refinements were necessary to bring about + the most fatal issues of enmity; and the instruments which William Hinkley + was preparing for the field were such as would produce a smile on the lips + of more civilized combatants. They were of the coarsest kind of + holster-pistols, and had probably seen service in the Revolution. The + stocks were rickety, the barrels thin, the bore almost large enough for + grape, and really such as would receive and disgorge a three-ounce bullet + with little straining or reluctance. They had been the property of his own + grandfather, and their value for use was perhaps rather heightened than + diminished by the degree of veneration which, in the family, was attached + to their history. + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley soon put them in the most efficient order. He was not a + practised hand, but an American forester is a good shot almost by + instinct; he naturally cleaves to a gun, and without instruction learns + its use. William, however, did not think much of what he could hit, at + what distance, and under what circumstances. Nothing, perhaps, could + better show the confidence in himself and weapon than the inattention + which the native-born woodman usually exhibits to these points. Let his + weapon be such as he can rely upon, and his cause of quarrel such as can + justify his anger, and the rest seems easy, and gives him little + annoyance. This was now the case with our rustic. He never, for a moment, + thought of practising. He had shot repeatedly, and knew what he could do. + His simple object was to bring his enemy to the field, and to meet him + there. Accordingly, when he had loaded both pistols, which he did with + equal care, and with a liberal allowance of lead and powder, he carefully + put them away without offering to test his own skill or their capacities. + On this subject, his indifference would have appeared, to a regular + duellist, the very extreme of obtuseness. + </p> + <p> + His little courier conveyed his billet to Stevens in due season. As she + had been instructed, she gave it into the hands of Stevens only; but, when + she delivered it, old Hinkley was present, and she named the person by + whom it was sent. + </p> + <p> + “My son! what does he say?” demanded the old man, half-suspecting the + purport of the billet. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” exclaimed Stevens, with the readiness of a practised actor, “there + is some hope, I am glad to tell you, Mr. Hinkley, of his coming to his + senses. He declares his wish to atone, and invites me to see him. I have + no doubt that he wishes me to mediate for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I will never forgive him while I have breath!” cried the old man, leaving + the room. “Tell him that!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, my pretty one,” said Stevens, as he was about retiring to + his chamber, “till I can write an answer.” + </p> + <p> + The billet of Hinkley he again read. We may do so likewise. It was to the + following effect:— + </p> + <p> + “Sir: If I understood your last assurance on leaving you this day, I am to + believe that the stroke of my whip has made its proper impression on your + soul—that you are willing to use the ordinary means of ordinary + persons, to avenge an indignity which was not CONFINED TO YOUR CLOTH. If + so, meet me at the lake with whatever weapons you choose to bring. I will + be there, provided with pistols for both, at any hour from three to six. I + shall proceed to the spot as soon as I receive your answer. + </p> + <p> + “W. H.” + </p> + <p> + “Short and sharp!” exclaimed Stevens as he read the billet. “'Who would + have thought that the YOUNG man had so much blood in him!' Well, we will + not balk your desire, Master Hinkley. We will meet you, in verity, though + it may compel me to throw up my present hand and call for other cards. + N'importe: there is no other course.” + </p> + <p> + While soliloquizing, he penned his answer, which was brief and to the + purpose:— + </p> + <p> + “I will meet you as soon as I can steal off without provoking suspicion. I + have pistols which I will bring with me. + </p> + <p> + “A. S.” + </p> + <p> + “There, my little damsel,” said he, re-entering the dining-room, and + putting the sealed paper into the hands of the child, “carry that to Mr. + Hinkley, and tell him I will come and speak with him as he begs me. But + the note will tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “So——” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hinkley entered the room at this moment. Her husband had apprized her + of the communication which her son had made, and the disposition to + atonement and repentance which he had expressed. She was anxious to + confirm this good disposition, to have her son brought back within the + fold, restored to her own affections and the favor of his father. The + latter, it is true, had signified his determined hostility, even while + conveying his intelligence; but the mother was sanguine—when was a + mother otherwise?—that all things would come right which related to + her only child. She now came to implore the efforts of Stevens; to + entreat, that, like a good Christian, he would not suffer the shocking + stripes which her son, in his madness, had inflicted upon him to outweigh + his charity, to get the better of his blessed principles, and make him war + upon the atoning spirit which had so lately, and so suddenly wakened up in + the bosom of the unruly boy. She did not endeavor to qualify the offence + of which her son had been guilty. She was far from underrating the + indignity to which Stevens had been subjected; but the offender was her + son—her only son—in spite of all his faults, follies, and + imperfections, the apple of her eye—the only being for whom she + cared to live! + </p> + <p> + Ah! the love of a mother!—what a holy thing! sadly wanting in + judgment—frequently misleading, perverting, nay, dooming the object + which it loves; but, nevertheless, most pure; least selfish; truest; most + devoted! + </p> + <p> + And the tears gushed from the old woman's eyes as she caught the hand of + Stevens in her own, and kissed it—kissed HIS hand—could + William Hinkley have seen THAT, how it would have rankled, how he would + have writhed! She kissed the hands of that wily hypocrite, bedewing them + with her tears, as if he were some benign and blessing saint; and not + because he had shown any merits or practised any virtues, but simply + because of certain professions which he had made, and in which she had + perfect faith because of the professions, and not because of any previous + knowledge which she had of the professor. Truly, it behooves a rogue + monstrous much to know what garment it is best to wear; the question is + equally important to rogue and dandy. + </p> + <p> + Stevens made a thousand assurances in the most Christian spirit—we + can not say that he gave her tear for tear—promised to do his best + to bring back the prodigal son to her embrace, and the better to effect + this object, put his pistols under his belt! Within the hour he was on his + way to the place of meeting. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII. — FOOT TO FOOT. + </h2> + <p> + William Hinkley was all impatience until, his little messenger returned, + which she did with a speed which might deserve commendation in the case of + our professional Mercuries—stage-drivers and mail contractors, + hight! He did not withhold it from the little maid, but taking her in his + arms, and kissing her fondly, he despatched her to her mother, while he + wrapped up his pistols and concealing them in the folds of his coat, + hurried from the house with the anxious haste of one who is going to seek + his prey. He felt somewhat like that broad-winged eagle which broods on + the projecting pinnacle of yonder rocky peak in waiting for the sea-hawk + who is stooping far below him, watching when the sun's rays shall glisten + from the uprising fins of his favorite fish. But it was not a selfish + desire to secure the prey which the terror of the other might cause him to + drop. It was simply to punish the prowler. Poor William could not exactly + tell indeed why he wished to shoot Alfred Stevens; but his cause of + hostility was not less cogent because it had no name. The thousand little + details which induce our prejudices in regard to persons, are, singly, + worth no one's thought, and would possibly provoke the contempt of all; + but like the myriad threads which secured the huge frame of Gulliver in + his descent upon Lilliput, they are, when united, able to bind the biggest + giant of us all. + </p> + <p> + The prejudices of William Hinkley, though very natural in such a case as + his, seemed to him very much like instincts. It seemed to him, if he once + reasoned on the matter, that, as he had good cause to hate the intruder, + so there must be justification for shooting him. Were this not so, the + policy of hating would be very questionable, and surely very unprofitable. + It would be a great waste of a very laudable quantity of feeling—something + like omitting one's bullet in discharging one's piece—a profligacy + only justifiable in a feu de joie after victory, where the bullets have + already done all necessary mischief, and will warrant a small subsequent + waste of the more harmless material. + </p> + <p> + Without designing any such child's play, our rustic hero, properly + equipped with his antique pistols, well charged, close rammed, three-ounce + bullets, or nearabouts, in each, stood, breathing fire but without + cooling, on the edge of the lake, perched on an eminence and looking out + for the coming enemy. He was playing an unwonted character, but he felt as + if it were quite familiar to him. He had none of that nice feeling which, + without impugning courage, is natural enough to inexperience in such + cases. The muzzles of the pistols did not appear to him particularly + large. He never once thought of his own ribs being traversed by his + three-ounce messengers. He had no misgivings on the subject of his future + digestion. He only thought of that blow from his father's hand—that + keen shaft from the lips of Margaret Cooper—that desolation which + had fallen upon his soul from the scorn of both; and the vengeance which + it was in his power to inflict upon the fortunate interloper to whose arts + he ascribed all his misfortunes! and with these thoughts his fury and + impatience increased, and he ascended the highest hill to look out for his + foe; descended, in the next moment, to the edge of the lake, the better to + prepare for the meeting. + </p> + <p> + In this state of excitement the meekness had departed from his + countenance; an entire change of expression had taken place: he stood up, + erect, bold, eagle-eyed, with the look of one newly made a man by the form + of indomitable will, and feeling, for the first time, man's terrible + commission to destroy. In a moment, with the acquisition of new moods, he + had acquired a new aspect. Hitherto, he had been tame, seemingly devoid of + spirit—you have not forgotten the reproaches of his cousin, which + actually conveyed an imputation against his manliness?—shrinking, + with a feeling of shyness akin to mauvaise honte, and almost submitting to + injustice, to avoid the charge of ill-nature. The change that we have + described in his soul, had made itself singularly apparent in his looks. + They were full of a grim determination. Had he gazed upon his features, in + the glassy surface of the lake beside him, he had probably recoiled from + their expression. + </p> + <p> + We have seen Mrs. Hinkley sending Stevens forth for the purpose of + recalling her son to his senses, receiving his repentance, and bringing + him once more home into the bosom of his flock. We have not forgotten the + brace of arguments with which he provided himself in order to bring about + this charitable determination. Stevens was a shot. He could snuff his + candle at ten paces, sever his bamboo, divide the fingers of the hand with + separate bullets without grazing the skin—nay, more, as was said in + the euphuistic phraseology of his admirers, send his ball between soul and + body without impairing the integrity of either. + </p> + <p> + But men may do much shooting at candle or bamboo, who would do precious + little while another is about to shoot at them. There is a world of + difference between looking in a bull's-eye, and looking in the eye of man. + A pistol, too, looks far less innocent, regarded through the medium of a + yawning muzzle, than the rounded and neatly-polished butt. The huge mouth + seems to dilate as you look upon it. You already begin to fancy you behold + the leaden mass—the three-ounce bullet—issuing from its + stronghold, like a relentless baron of the middle ages, going forth under + his grim archway, seeking only whom he may devour. The sight is apt to + diminish the influence of skill. Nerves are necessary to such sportsmen, + and nerves become singularly untrue when frowned upon through such a + medium. + </p> + <p> + Under this view of the case, we are not so sure that the excellence of aim + for which Alfred Stevens has been so much lauded, will make the difference + very material between the parties; and now that he is fairly roused, there + is a look of the human devil about William Hinkley, that makes him promise + to be dangerous. Nay, the very pistols that he wields, those clumsy, + rusty, big-mouthed ante-revolutionary machines, which his stout grandsire + carried at Camden and Eutaw, have a look of service about them—a + grim, veteran-like aspect, that makes them quite as perilous to face as to + handle. If they burst they will blow on all sides. There will be fragments + enough for friend and foe; and even though Stevens may not apprehend so + much from the aim of his antagonist, something of deference is due to the + possibility of such a concussion, as will make up all his deficiencies of + skill. + </p> + <p> + But they have not yet met, though Stevens, with praiseworthy Christianity, + is on his way to keep his engagements, as well to mother as to son. He has + his own pistols—not made for this purpose—but a substantial + pair of traveller's babes—big of mouth, long of throat, thick of + jaw, keen of sight, quick of speech, strong of wind, and weighty of + argument. They are rifled bores also, and, in the hands of the owner, have + done clever things at bottle and sapling. Stevens would prefer to have the + legitimate things, but these babes are trustworthy; and he has no reason + to suppose that the young rustic whom he goes to meet can produce anything + more efficient. He had no idea of those ancient bull-pups, those solemn + ante-revolutionary barkers, which our grandsire used upon harder heads + than his, at Camden and the Eutaws. He is scarcely so confident in his own + weapons when his eye rests on the rusty tools of his enemy. + </p> + <p> + But it was not destined that this fight should take place without + witnesses. In spite of all the precautions of the parties, and they were + honest in taking them, our little village had its inklings of what was + going on. There were certain signs of commotion and explosion which made + themselves understood. Our little maid, Susan Hinkley, was the first, very + innocently, to furnish a clue to the mystery. She had complained to her + mother that Cousin William had not shot the little guns for her according + to his promise. + </p> + <p> + “But, perhaps, he didn't want to shoot them, Susan.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mamma, he put them in his pockets. He's carried them to shoot; and + he promised to shoot them for me as soon as I carried the note.” + </p> + <p> + “And to whom did you carry the note, Susan?” asked the mother. + </p> + <p> + “To the young parson, at Uncle William's.” + </p> + <p> + The mother had not been unobservant of the degree of hostility which her + brother, as well as cousin, entertained for Stevens. They had both very + freely expressed their dislike in her presence. Some of their conferences + had been overheard and were now recalled, in which this expression of + dislike had taken the form of threats, vague and purposeless, seemingly, + at the time; but which now, taken in connection with what she gathered + from the lips of the child, seemed of portentous interest. Then, when she + understood that Stevens had sent a note in reply—and that both notes + were sealed, the quick, feminine mind instantly jumped to the right + conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “They are surely going to fight. Get my bonnet, Susan, I must run to Uncle + William's, and tell him while there's time. Which way did Cousin William + go?” + </p> + <p> + The child could tell her nothing but that he had taken to the hills. + </p> + <p> + “That brother Ned shouldn't be here now! Though I don't see the good of + his being here. He'd only make matters worse. Run, Susan—run over to + Gran'pa Calvert, and tell him to come and stop them from fighting, while I + hurry to Uncle William's. Lord save us!—and let me get there in + time.” + </p> + <p> + The widow had a great deal more to say, but this was quite enough to + bewilder the little girl. Nevertheless, she get forth to convey the + mysterious message to Grand'pa Calvert, though the good mother never once + reflected that this message was of the sort which assumes the party + addressed to be already in possession of the principal facts. While she + took one route the mother pursued another, and the two arrived at their + respective places at about the same time. Stevens had already left old + Hinkley's when the widow got there, and the consternation of Mrs. Hinkley + was complete. The old man was sent for to the fields, and came in only to + declare that some such persuasion had filled his own mind when first the + billet of his son had been received. But the suspicion of the father was + of a much harsher sort than that of the widow Hinkley. In her sight it was + a duel only—bad enough as a duel—but still only a duel, where + the parties incurring equal risks, had equal rights. But the conception of + the affair, as it occurred to old Hinkley, was very different. + </p> + <p> + “Base serpent!” he exclaimed—“he has sent for the good young man + only to murder him. He implores him to come to him, in an artful writing, + pretending to be sorely sorrowful and full of repentance; and he prepares + the weapon of murder to slay him when he comes. Was there ever creature so + base!—but I will hunt him out. God give me strength, and grant that + I may find him in season.” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, the old man seized his crab-stick, a knotty club, that had + been seasoned in a thousand smokes, and toughened by the use of twenty + years. His wife caught up her bonnet and hurried with the widow Hinkley in + his train. Meanwhile, by cross-examining the child, Mr. Calvert formed + some plausible conjectures of what was on foot, and by the time that the + formidable procession had reached his neighborhood he was prepared to join + it. Events thickened with the increasing numbers. New facts came in to the + aid of old ones partially understood. The widow Thackeray, looking from + her window, as young and handsome widows are very much in the habit of + doing, had seen William Hinkley going by toward the hill, with a very + rapid stride and a countenance very much agitated; and an hour afterward + she had seen Brother Stevens following on the same route—good young + man!—with the most heavenly and benignant smile upon his countenance—the + very personification of the cherub and the seraph, commissioned to subdue + the fiend. + </p> + <p> + “Here is some of your treachery, Mr. Calvert. You have spoiled this boy of + mine; turning his head with law studies; and making him disobedient—giving + him counsel and encouragement against his father—and filling his + mind with evil things. It is all your doing, and your books. And now he's + turned out a bloody murderer, a papist murderer, with your Roman catholic + doctrines.” + </p> + <p> + “I am no Roman catholic, Mr. Hinkley,” was the mild reply—“and as + for William becoming a murderer, I think that improbable. I have a better + opinion of your son than you have.” + </p> + <p> + “He's an ungrateful cub—a varmint of the wilderness—to strike + the good young man in my own presence—to strike him with a cowskin—what + do you think of that, sir? answer me that, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Did William Hinkley do this?” demanded the old teacher earnestly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that he did, did he!” + </p> + <p> + “I can hardly understand it. There must have been some grievous + provocation?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it was a grievous provocation, indeed, to have to wait for grace + before meat.” + </p> + <p> + “Was that all? can it be possible!” + </p> + <p> + The mother of the offender supplied the hiatus in the story—and + Calvert was somewhat relieved. Though he did not pretend to justify the + assault of the youth, he readily saw how he had been maddened by the + treatment of his father. He saw that the latter was in a high pitch of + religious fury—his prodigious self-esteem taking part with it, + naturally enough, against a son, who, until this instance, had never risen + in defiance against either. Expostulation and argument were equally vain + with him; and ceasing the attempt at persuasion, Calvert hurried on with + the rest, being equally anxious to arrest the meditated violence, whether + that contemplated the murderous assassination which the father declared, + or the less heinous proceeding of the duel which he suspected. + </p> + <p> + There was one thing which made him tremble for his own confidence in + William Hinkley's propriety of course. It was the difficulty which he had + with the rest, in believing that the young student of divinity would fight + a duel. This doubt, he felt, must be that, of his pupil also: whether the + latter had any reason to suppose that Stevens would depart from the + principles of his profession, and waive the securities which it afforded, + he had of course, no means for conjecturing; but his confidence in William + induced him to believe that some such impression upon his mind had led him + to the measure of sending a challenge, which, otherwise, addressed to a + theologian, would have been a shameless mockery. + </p> + <p> + There was a long running fire, by way of conversation and commentary, + which was of course maintained by these toiling pedestrians, cheering the + way as they went; but though it made old Hinkley peccant and wrathy, and + exercised the vernacular of the rest to very liberal extent, we do not + care to distress the reader with it. It may have been very fine or not. It + is enough to say that the general tenor of opinion run heavily against our + unhappy rustic, and in favor of the good young man, Stevens. Mrs. + Thackeray, the widow, to whom Stevens had paid two visits or more since he + had been in the village, and who had her own reasons for doubting that + Margaret Cooper had really obtained any advantages in the general struggle + to find favor in the sight of this handsome man of God—was loud in + her eulogy upon the latter, and equally unsparing in her denunciations of + the village lad who meditated so foul a crime as the extinguishing so + blessed a light. Her denunciations at length aroused all the mother in + Mrs. Hinkley's breast, and the two dames had it, hot and heavy, until, as + the parties approached the lake, old Hinkley, with a manner all his own, + enjoined the most profound silence, and hushed, without settling the + dispute. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the combatants had met. William Hinkley, having ascended the + tallest perch among the hills, beheld his enemy approaching at a natural + pace and at a short distance. He descended rapidly to meet him and the + parties joined at the foot of the woodland path leading down to the lake, + where, but a few days before, we beheld Stevens and Margaret Cooper. + Stevens was somewhat surprised to note the singular and imposing change + which a day, almost an hour, had wrought in the looks and bearing of the + young rustic. His good, and rather elevated command of language, had + struck him previously as very remarkable, but this had been explained by + his introduction to Mr. Calvert, who, as his teacher, he soon found was + very well able to make him what he was. It was the high bearing, the + courteous defiance, the superior consciousness of strength and character, + which now spoke in the tone and manner of the youth. A choice military + school, for years, could scarcely have brought about a more decided + expression of that subdued heroism, which makes mere manliness a matter of + chivalry, and dignifies brute anger and blind hostility into something + like a sentiment. Under the prompting of a good head, a generous temper, + and the goodness of a highly-roused, but legitimate state of feeling, + William Hinkley wore the very appearance of that nobleness, pride, ease, + firmness, and courtesy, which, in the conventional world, it is so + difficult, yet held to be so important, to impress upon the champion when + ready for the field. A genuine son of thunder would have rejoiced in his + deportment, and though a sneering, jealous and disparaging temper, Alfred + Stevens could not conceal from himself the conviction that there was stuff + in the young man which it needed nothing but trial and rough attrition to + bring out. + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley bowed at his approach, and pointed to a close footpath + leading to the rocks on the opposite shore. + </p> + <p> + “There, sir, we shall be more secret. There is a narrow grove above, just + suited to our purpose. Will it please you to proceed thither?” + </p> + <p> + “As YOU please, Mr. Hinkley,” was the reply; “I have no disposition to + balk your particular desires. But the sight of this lake reminds me that I + owe you my life?” + </p> + <p> + “I had thought, sir, that the indignity which I put upon you, would cancel + all such memories,” was the stern reply. + </p> + <p> + The cheek of Stevens became crimson—his eye flashed—he felt + the sarcasm—but something was due to his position, and he was cool + enough to make a concession to circumstances. He answered with tolerable + calmness, though not without considerable effort. + </p> + <p> + “It has cancelled the OBLIGATION, sir, if not the memory! I certainly can + owe you nothing for a life which you have attempted to disgrace—” + </p> + <p> + “Which I have disgraced!” said the other, interrupting him. + </p> + <p> + “You are right, sir. How far, however, you have shown your manhood in + putting an indignity upon one whose profession implies peace, and + denounces war, you are as well prepared to answer as myself.” + </p> + <p> + “The cloth seems to be of precious thickness!” was the answer of Hinkley, + with a smile of bitter and scornful sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean to convoy the idea that I do not feel the shame of the blow, + and am not determined on avenging it, young man, you are in error. You + will find that I am not less determined because I am most cool. I have + come out deliberately for the purpose of meeting you. My purpose in + reminding you of my profession was simply to undeceive you. It appears to + me not impossible that the knowledge of it has made you somewhat bolder + than you otherwise might have been.” + </p> + <p> + “What mean you?” was the stern demand of Hinkley, uttered in very + startling accents. + </p> + <p> + “To tell you that I have not always been a non-combatant, that I am + scarcely one now, and that, in the other schools, in which I have been + taught, the use of the pistol was an early lesson. You have probably + fancied that such was not the case, and that my profession—” + </p> + <p> + “Come, sir—will you follow this path?” said Hinkley, interrupting + him impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “All in good time, sir, when you have heard me out,” was the cool reply. + “Now, sir,” he continued, “were you to have known that it would be no hard + task for me to mark any button on your vest, at any distance—that I + have often notched a smaller mark, and that I am prepared to do so again, + it might be that your prudence would have tempered your courage—” + </p> + <p> + “I regret for your sake,” said Hinkley, again interrupting him with a + sarcasm, “that I have not brought with me the weapon with which MY marks + are made. You seem to have forgotten that I too have some skill in my poor + way. One would think, sir, that the memory would not fail of retaining + what I suspect will be impressed upon the skin for some time longer.” + </p> + <p> + “You are evidently bent on fighting, Mr. Hinkley, and I must gratify you!” + </p> + <p> + “If you please, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “But, before doing so, I should like to know in what way I have provoked + such a feeling of hostility in your mind? I have not sought to do so. I + have on the contrary, striven to show you my friendship, in part requital + of the kindness shown me by your parents.” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak of them, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but I must. It was at the instance of your worthy mother that I + sought you and strove to confer with you on, the cause of your evident + unhappiness.” + </p> + <p> + “You were the cause.” + </p> + <p> + “I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—you! Did I not tell you then that I hated you; and did you not + accept my defiance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but when you saved my life!—” + </p> + <p> + “It was to spurn you—to put stripes upon you. I tell you, Alfred + Stevens, I loathe you with the loathing one feels for a reptile, whose + cunning is as detestable as his sting is deadly. I loathe you from + instinct. I felt this dislike and distrust for you from the first moment + that I saw you. I know not how, or why, or in what manner, you are a + villain, but I feel you to be one! I am convinced of it as thoroughly as + if I knew it. You have wormed yourself into the bosom of my family. You + have expelled me from the affections of my parents; and not content with + this, you have stolen to the heart of the woman to whom my life was + devoted, to have me driven thence also. Can I do less than hate you? Can I + desire less than your destruction? Say, having heard so much, whether you + will make it necessary that I should again lay my whip over your + shoulders.” + </p> + <p> + The face of Stevens became livid as he listened to this fierce and bitter + speech. His eye watched that of the speaker with the glare of the tiger, + as if noteful only of the moment when to spring. His frame trembled. His + lip quivered with the struggling rage. All his feeling of self-superiority + vanished when he listened to language of so unequivocal a character—language + which so truly denounced, without defining, his villany. He felt, that if + the instinct of the other was indeed so keen and quick, then was the + combat necessary, and the death of the rustic essential, perhaps, to his + own safety. William Hinkley met his glance with a like fire. There was no + shrinking of his heart or muscles. Nay, unlike his enemy, he felt a + strange thrill of pleasure in his veins as he saw the effect which his + language had produced on the other. + </p> + <p> + “Lead the way!” said Stevens; “the sooner you are satisfied the better.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very courteous, and I thank you,” replied Hinkley, with a subdued + but sarcastic smile, “you will pardon me for the seeming slight, in taking + precedence of one so superior; but the case requires it. You will please + to follow. I will show you my back no longer than it seems necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Lead on, sir—lead on.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII. — UNEXPECTED ISSUES. + </h2> + <p> + William Hinkley ascended the narrow path leading to the hills with an + alacrity of heart which somewhat surprised himself. The apprehensions of + danger, if he felt any, were not of a kind to distress or annoy him, and + were more than balanced by the conviction that he had brought his enemy + within his level. That feeling of power is indeed a very consolatory one. + It satisfies the ambitious heart, though death preys upon his household, + one by one; though suffering fevers his sleep; though the hopes of his + affection wither; though the loves and ties of his youth decay and vanish. + It makes him careless of the sunshine, and heedless of the storm. It + deadens his ear to the song of birds, it blinds his eye to the seduction + of flowers. It makes him fly from friendship and rush on hate. It + compensates for all sorts of loneliness, and it produces them. It is a + princely despotism; which, while it robs its slave of freedom, covers him + with other gifts which he learns to value more; which, binding him in + fetters, makes him believe that they are sceptres and symbols before which + all things become what he desires them. His speech is changed, his very + nature perverted, but he acquires an “open sesame” by their loss, and the + loss seems to his imagination an exceeding gain. We will not say that + William Hinkley was altogether satisfied with HIS bargain, but in the + moment when he stood confronting his enemy on the bald rock, with a deadly + weapon in each hand—when he felt that he stood foot to foot in equal + conflict with his foe, one whom he had dragged down from his pride of + place, and had compelled to the fearful issue which made his arrogance + quail—in that moment, if he did not forget, he did not so much feel, + that he had lost family and friends, parents and love; and if he felt, it + was only to induce that keener feeling of revenge in which even the + affections are apt to be swallowed up. + </p> + <p> + Stevens looked in the eye of the young man and saw that he was dangerous. + He looked upon the ante-revolutionary pistols, and saw that they were + dangerous too, in a double sense. + </p> + <p> + “Here are pistols,” he said, “better suited to our purpose. You can sound + them and take your choice.” + </p> + <p> + “These,” said Hinkley, doggedly, “are as well suited as any. If you will, + you can take your choice of mine; but if you think yours superior, use + them. These are good enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is out of all usage,” said Stevens. + </p> + <p> + “What matters it, Mr. Stevens? If you are satisfied that yours are the + best, the advantage is with you. If you doubt that mine can kill, try + them. I have a faith in these pistols which will content me; but we will + take one of each, if that will please you better, and use which we think + proper.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens expressed himself better pleased to keep his own. + </p> + <p> + “Suit yourself as to distance,” said Hinkley, with all the coolness of an + unmixed salamander. His opponent stepped off ten paces with great + deliberation, and William Hinkley, moving toward a fragment of the rock + upon which he had placed his “revolutions” for the better inspection of + his opponent, possessed himself of the veterans and prepared to take the + station which had been assigned him. + </p> + <p> + “Who shall give the word?” demanded Stevens. + </p> + <p> + “You may!” was the cool rejoinder. + </p> + <p> + “If I do, I kill you,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “I have no fear, Mr. Stevens,” answered William Hinkley with a degree of + phlegm which almost led Stevens to fancy he had to deal with a regular + Trojan—“I have no fear,” he continued, “and if you fancy you can + frighten me by this sort of bragging you have very much mistaken your man. + Shoot when you please, word or no word.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley stood with his back to the woods, his face toward the lake + which spread itself, smooth and calm at a little distance. He did not + perceive that his position was a disadvantageous one. The tree behind, and + that beside him, rendered his body a most conspicuous mark; while his + opponent, standing with his back to the uncovered rocks ranged with no + other objects of any prominence. Had he even been sufficiently practised + in the arts of the duello, he would most probably have been utterly + regardless of these things. They would not have influenced his firmness in + the slightest degree. His course was quite as much the result of + desperation as philosophy. He felt himself an outcast as well from home as + from love, and it mattered to him very little, in the morbid excitement of + his present mind, whether he fell by the hand of his rival, or lived to + pine out a wearisome existence, lonely and uninspired, a gloomy exile in + the bitter world. He waited, it may be said, with some impatience for the + fire of his antagonist. Once he saw the pistol of Stevens uplifted. He had + one in each hand. His own hung beside him. He waited for the shot of the + enemy as a signal when to lift and use his own weapon. But instead of this + he was surprised to see him drop the muzzle of his weapon, and with some + celerity and no small degree of slight of hand, thrust the two pistols + under his coat-skirts. A buz reached his ears a moment after—the hum + of voices—some rustling in the bushes, which signified confusion in + the approach of strangers. He did not wish to look round as he preferred + keeping his eye on his antagonist. + </p> + <p> + “Shoot!” he exclaimed—“quickly, before we are interrupted.” + </p> + <p> + Before he could receive any answer there was a rush behind him—he + heard his father's voice, sudden, and in a high degree of fury, mingled + with that of his mother and Mr. Calvert, as if in expostulation. From the + latter the words distinctly reached his ears, warning him to beware. Such, + also, was the purport of his mother's cry. Before he could turn and guard + against the unseen danger, he received a blow upon his head, the only + thing of which he was conscious for some time. He staggered and fell + forward. He felt himself stunned, fancied he was shot, and sunk to the + ground in an utter state of insensibility. + </p> + <p> + The blow came from his father's crab-stick. It was so utterly unexpected + by the parties who had attended old Hinkley to the place of meeting, that + no efforts were made to prevent it. But the mother of the victim rushed in + in time to defeat the second blow, which the father prepared to inflict, + in the moment when his son was falling from the effects of the first. + Grasping the coat skirts of her spouse, she pulled him back with no + scrupulous hand, and effectually baffled his designs by bringing him down, + though in an opposite direction, to the same level with the youth. Old + Hinkley did not bite the dust, but the latter part of his skull most + effectually butted it; and had not his head been quite as tough as his + crab-stick, the hurt might have been quite as severe as that which the + latter had inflicted on the son. + </p> + <p> + The latter lay as perfectly quiet as if all had been over with him. So + much so, that the impression became very general that such was the case. + Under this impression the heart of the mother spoke out in mingled screams + of lamentation and reproach. She threw herself down by the side of the + youth and vainly attempted to stop the blood which was streaming from a + deep gash on his skull. While engaged in this work, her apron and + handkerchief being both employed for this purpose, she poured forth a + torrent of wrath and denunciation against her spouse. She now forgot all + the offences of the boy, and even Alfred Stevens came in for his share of + the anger with which she visited the offence and the offender. + </p> + <p> + “Shame! shame! you bloody-minded man,” she cried, “to slaughter your own + son—your only son—to come behind him and knock him down with a + club as if he had been an inhuman ox! You are no husband of mine. He + sha'n't own you for a father. If I had the pick, I'd choose a thousand + fathers for him, from here to Massassippi, sooner than you. He's only too + good and too handsome to be son of yours. And for what should you strike + him? For a stranger—a man we never saw before. Shame on you! You are + a brute, a monster, William Hinkley, and I'm done with you for ever. + </p> + <p> + “My poor, poor boy! Look up, my son. Look up, William. Open your eyes. + It's your own dear mother that speaks to you. O my God! you've killed him—he + will not open his eyes. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!” + </p> + <p> + And truly it seemed so, for the youth gave no sign of consciousness. She + threw herself in a screaming agony upon his body, and gave herself up to + the unmeasured despair, which, if a weakness, is at least a sacred one in + the case of a mother mourning her only son. Old Hinkley was not without + his alarms—nay, not altogether without his compunctions. But he was + one of that round head genus whose self-esteem is too much at all times + for fear, or shame, or sensibility. Without seeking to assist the lad, and + ascertain what was his real condition, he sought only to justify himself + for what he had done by repeating the real and supposed offences of the + youth. He addressed himself in this labor chiefly to Mr. Calvert, who, + with quite as much suffering as any of the rest, had more consideration, + and was now busied in the endeavor to stanch the blood and cleanse the + wound of the victim. + </p> + <p> + “He's only got what he deserved,” exclaimed the sullen, stubborn father. + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak so, Mr. Hinkley,” replied Calvert, with a sternness which + was unusual with him; “your son may have got his death.” + </p> + <p> + “And he deserves it!” responded the other doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “And if he has,” continued Calvert, “you are a murderer—a + cold-blooded murderer—and as such will merit and will meet the + halter.” + </p> + <p> + The face of the old man grew livid—his lips whitened with rage; and + he approached Calvert, his whole frame quivering with fury, and, shaking + his hand threateningly, exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Do you dare to speak to me in this manner, you miserable, white-headed + pedagogue—do you dare?” + </p> + <p> + “Dare!” retorted Calvert, rising to his feet with a look of majesty which, + in an instant, awed the insolence of the offender. Never had he been faced + by such defiance, so fearlessly and nobly expressed. + </p> + <p> + “Dare!—Look on me, and ask yourself whether I dare or not. Approach + me but a step nigher, and even my love for your unfortunate and + much-abused but well-minded son will not protect you. I would chastise + you, with all my years upon me, in spite of my white head. Yours, if this + boy should die, will never become white, or will become so suddenly, as + your soul will wither, with its own self-torture, within you. Begone!—keep + back—do not approach me, and, above all, do not approach me with + uplifted hand, or, by Heaven, I will fell you to the earth as surely as + you felled this boy! You have roused a feeling within me, William Hinkley, + which has slept for years. Do not provoke it too far. Beware in season. + You have acted the brute and the coward to your son—you could do so + with impunity to him—to me you can not.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in this speech, from one whom old Hinkley was + accustomed to look upon as a dreaming bookworm, which goaded the + tyrannical father into irrepressible fury; and, grinding his teeth, + without a moment's hesitation he advanced, and was actually about to lay + the crab-stick over the shoulders of the speaker: but the latter was as + prompt as he was fearless. Before Hinkley could conceive his intention, he + had leaped over the still unconscious person of William, and, flinging the + old man round with a sudden jerk, had grasped and wrested the stick from + his hands with a degree of activity and strength which confounded all the + bystanders, and the subject of his sudden exercise of manhood no less than + the rest. + </p> + <p> + “Were you treated justly,” said Calvert, regarding him with a look of the + loftiest indignation, “you should yourself receive a taste of the cudgel + you are so free to use on others. Let your feebleness, old man, be a + warning to your arrogance.” + </p> + <p> + With these words, he flung the crab-stick into the lake, old Hinkley + regarding him with looks in which it was difficult to say whether + mortification or fury had preponderance. + </p> + <p> + “Go,” he continued—“your son lives; but it is God's mercy, and none + of yours, which has spared his life. You will live, I hope, to repent of + your cruelty and injustice to him; to repent of having shown a preference + to a stranger, so blind as that which has moved you to attempt the life of + one of the most gentle lads in the whole country.” + </p> + <p> + “And did he not come here to murder the stranger? did we not find him even + now with pistol ready to murder Brother Stevens? See the pistols now in + his hands—my father's pistols. We came not a minute too soon. But + for my blow, he had been a murderer.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the justification which old Hinkley now offered for what he had + done. + </p> + <p> + “I am no advocate for duelling,” said Calvert, “but I believe that your + son came with the stranger for this purpose, and not to murder him.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! do you not see that Brother Stevens has no pistols? Did we not + see him trying to escape—walking off—walking almost over the + rocks to get out of the way?” + </p> + <p> + Calvert comprehended the matter much more clearly. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, sir!” he said to Stevens, “did you not come prepared to defend + yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “You see me as I am,” said Stevens, showing his empty hands. + </p> + <p> + Calvert looked at him with searching eye. + </p> + <p> + “I understand you, sir,” he said, with an expression not to be mistaken; + “I understand you now. THIS LAD I KNOW. HE COULD NOT BE A MURDERER. HE + COULD NOT TAKE ANY MAN AT ADVANTAGE. If you do not know the fact, Mr. + Stevens, I can assure you that your life was perfectly secure from his + weapon, so long as his remained equally unendangered. The sight of that + lake, from which he rescued you but a few days ago, should sufficiently + have persuaded you of this.” + </p> + <p> + Stevens muttered something, the purport of which was, that “he did not + believe the young man intended to murder him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he not send you a challenge?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said old Hinkley; “he sent him a begging note, promising atonement + and repentance.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you let me see that note?” said Calvert, addressing Stevens. + </p> + <p> + “I have it not—I destroyed it,” said Stevens with some haste. + Calvert said no more, but he looked plainly enough his suspicions. He now + gave his attention to William Hinkley, whose mother, while this scene was + in progress, had been occupied, as Calvert had begun, in stanching the + blood, and trimming with her scissors, which were fortunately at her + girdle, the hair from the wound. The son, meanwhile, had wakened to + consciousness. He had been stunned but not severely injured by the blow, + and, with the promptitude of a border-dame, Mrs. Hinkley, hurrying to a + pine-tree, had gathered enough of its resin, which, spread upon a fragment + of her cotton apron, and applied to the hurt, proved a very fair + substitute for adhesive plaster. The youth rose to his feet, still + retaining the pistols in his grasp. His looks were heavy from the stupor + which still continued, but kindled into instant intelligence when he + caught sight of Stevens and his father. + </p> + <p> + “Go home, sir!” said the latter, waving his hand in the prescribed + direction. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” was the reply of the young man, firmly expressed; “never, sir, if + I never have a home!” + </p> + <p> + “You shall always have a home, William, while I have one,” said Mr. + Calvert. + </p> + <p> + “What! you encourage my son in rebellion? you teach him to fly in the face + of his father?” shouted the old man. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; I only offer him a shelter from tyranny, a place of refuge from + persecution. When you learn the duties and the feelings of a father, it + will be time enough to assert the rights of one. I do not think him safe + in your house against your vindictiveness and brutality. He is, however, + of full age, and can determine for himself.” + </p> + <p> + “He is not of age, and will not be till July.” + </p> + <p> + “It matters not. He is more near the years of discretion than his father; + and, judging him to be in some danger in your house, as a man and as a + magistrate I offer him the protection of mine. Come home with me, + William.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him go, if he pleases—go to the d—l! He who honors not + his father, says the Scriptures—what says the passage, Brother + Stevens—does it not say that he who honors not his father is in + danger of hell-fire?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly, I believe,” said the other. + </p> + <p> + “Matters not, matters not!—the meaning is very much the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my son,” said the mother, clinging to his neck, “will you, indeed, + desert me? can you leave me in my old age? I have none, none but you! You + know how I have loved—you know I will always love you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I love you, mother—and love him too, though he treats me as an + outcast—I will always love you, but I will never more enter my + father's dwelling. He has degraded me with his whip—he has attempted + my life with his bludgeon. I forgive him, but will never expose myself + again to his cruelties or indignities. You will always find me a son, and + a dutiful one, in all other respects.” + </p> + <p> + He turned away with Mr. Calvert, and slowly proceeded down the pathway by + which he had approached the eminence. He gave Stevens a significant look + as he passed him, and lifted one of the pistols which he still carried in + his hands, in a manner to make evident his meaning. The other smiled and + turned off with the group, who proceeded by the route along the hills, but + the last words of the mother, subdued by sobs, still came to the ears of + the youth:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my son, come home! come home!” + </p> + <p> + “No! no! I have no home—no home, mother!” muttered the young man, as + if he thought the half-stifled response could reach the ears of the + complaining woman. + </p> + <p> + “No home! no hope!” he continued—“I am desolate.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, my son. God is our home; God is our companion; our strength, our + preserver! Living and loving, manfully striving and working out our toils + for deliverance, we are neither homeless, nor hopeless; neither + strengthless, nor fatherless; wanting neither in substance nor companion. + This is a sharp lesson, perhaps, but a necessary one. It will give you + that courage, of the great value of which I spoke to you but a few days + ago. Come with me to my home; it shall be yours until you can find a + better.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you—oh! how much I thank you. It may be all as you pay, but + I feel very, very miserable.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV. — EXILE. + </h2> + <p> + The artist in the moral world must be very careful not to suffer his nice + sense of retributive justice, to get so much the better of his judgment, + as an artist, as to make him forgetful of human probabilities, and the + superior duty of preparing the mind of the young reader by sterling + examples of patience and protracted reward, to bear up manfully against + injustice, and not to despond because his rewards are slow. It would be + very easy for an author to make everybody good, or, if any were bad, to + dismiss them, out of hand, to purgatory and places even worse. But it + would be a thankless toil to read the writings of such an author. His + characters would fail in vraisemblance, and his incidents would lack in + interest. The world is a sort of vast moral lazar-house, in which most + have sores, either of greater or less degree of virulence. Some are + nurses, and doctors, and guardians; and these are necessarily free from + the diseases to which they minister. Some, though not many, are entirely + incurable; many labor for years in pain, and when dismissed, still hobble + along feebly, bearing the proofs of their trials in ugly seams and + blotches, contracted limbs, and pale, haggard features. Others get off + with a shorter and less severe probation. None are free from taint, and + those who are the most free, are not always the greatest favorites with + fortune. + </p> + <p> + We are speaking of the moral world, good reader. We simply borrow an + illustration from the physical. Our interest in one another is very much + derived from our knowledge of each other's infirmities; and it may be + remarked, passingly, that this interest is productive of very excellent + philosophical temper, since it enables us to bear the worst misfortunes of + our best friends with the most amazing fortitude. It is a frequent error + with the reader of a book—losing sight of these facts—to + expect that justice will always be done on the instant. He will suffer no + delay in the book, though he sees that this delay of justice is one of the + most decided of all the moral certainties whether in life or law. He does + not wish to see the person in whom the author makes him interested, perish + in youth—die of broken heart or more rapid disaster; and if he could + be permitted to interfere, the bullet or the knife of the assassin would + be arrested at the proper moment and always turned against the bosom of + the wrong-doer. + </p> + <p> + This is a very commendable state of feeling, and whenever it occurs, it + clearly shows that the author is going right in his vocation. It proves + him to be a HUMAN author, which is something better than being a mere, + dry, moral one. But he would neither be a human nor a moral author were he + to comply with the desires of such gentle readers, and, to satisfy their + sympathies, arrest the progress of events. The fates must have their way, + in the book as in the lazar-house; and the persons of his drama must + endure their sores and sufferings with what philosophy they may, until, + under the hands of that great physician, fortune, they receive an + honorable discharge or otherwise. + </p> + <p> + Were it with him, our young friend, William Hinkley, who is really a + clever fellow, should not only be received to favor with all parties, but + such should never have fallen from favor in the minds of any. His father + should become soon repentant, and having convicted Stevens of his + falsehood and hypocrisy, he should be rewarded with the hand of the woman + to whom his young heart is so devoted. Such, perhaps, would be the + universal wish with our readers; but would this be fortunate for William + Hinkley? Our venerable friend and his, Mr. Calvert, has a very different + opinion. He says:— + </p> + <p> + “This young man is not only a worthy young man, but he is one, naturally + of very vigorous intellect. He is of earnest, impassioned temperament, + full of enthusiasm and imagination; fitted for work—great work—public + work—head work—the noblest kind of work. He will be a great + lawyer—perhaps a great statesman—if he addresses himself at + once, manfully, to his tasks; but he will not address himself to these + tasks while he pursues the rusting and mind-destroying life of a country + village. Give him the object of his present desire and you deprive him of + all motive for exertion. Give him the woman he seeks and you probably + deprive him even of the degree of quiet which the country village affords. + He would forfeit happiness without finding strength. Force him to the use + of his tools and he builds himself fame and fortune.” + </p> + <p> + Calvert was really not sorry that William Hinkley's treatment had been so + harsh. He sympathized, it is true, in his sufferings, but he was not blind + to their probable advantages; and he positively rejoiced in his rejection + by Margaret Cooper. + </p> + <p> + It was some four or five days after the events with which our last chapter + was closed, that the old man and his young friend were to be seen sitting + together, under the shade of the venerable tree where we have met them + before. They had conferred together seriously, and finally with agreeing + minds, on the several topics which have been adverted to in the preceding + paragraph. William Hinkley had become convinced that it was equally the + policy of his mind and heart to leave Charlemont. He was not so well + satisfied, however, as was the case with Mr. Calvert, that the loss of + Margaret Cooper was his exceeding gain. When did young lover come to such + a conclusion? Not, certainly, while he was young. But when was young lover + wise? Though a discontent, William Hinkley was not, however, soured nor + despairing from the denial of his hopes. He had resources of thought and + spirit never tested before, of the possession of which he, himself, knew + nothing. They were to be brought into use and made valuable only by these + very denials; by the baffling of his hope; by the provocation of his + strength. + </p> + <p> + His resolution grew rapidly in consequence of his disappointments. He was + now prepared to meet the wishes of his venerable and wise preceptor—to + grapple stoutly with the masters of the law; and, keeping his heart in + restraint, if not absolute abeyance, to do that justice to his head, + which, according to the opinion of Mr. Calvert, it well-deserved if + hitherto it had not demanded it. But to pursue his studies as well as his + practice, he was to leave Charlemont. How was this to be done—where + was he to go—by what means? A horse, saddle, and bridle—a few + books and the ante-revolutionary pistols of his grandsire, which recent + circumstances seemed to have endeared to him, were all his available + property. His poverty was an estoppel, at the outset, to his own + reflections; and thinking of this difficulty he turned with a blank visage + to his friend. + </p> + <p> + The old man seemed to enter into and imagine his thoughts. He did not wait + to be reminded, by the halting speech of the youth, of the one subject + from which the latter shrunk to speak. + </p> + <p> + “The next thing, my son,” said he, “is the necessary means. Happily, in + the case of one so prudent and temperate as yourself, you will not need + much. Food and clothing, and a small sum, annually, for contingencies, + will be your chief expense; and this, I am fortunately able to provide. I + am not a rich man, my son; but economy and temperance, with industry, have + given me enough, and to spare. It is long since I had resolved that all I + have should be yours; and I had laid aside small sums from time to time, + intending them for an occasion like the present, which I felt sure would + at length arrive. I am rejoiced that my foresight should have begun in + time, since it enables me to meet the necessity promptly, and to interpose + myself at the moment when you most need counsel and assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my friend, my kind generous friend, how it shames me for my own + father to hear you speak thus!” + </p> + <p> + The youth caught the hands of his benefactor, and the hot tears fell from + his eyes upon them, while he fervently bent to kiss them. + </p> + <p> + “Your father is a good but rough man, William, who will come to his senses + in good time. Men of his education—governed as he is by the mistake + which so commonly confounds God with his self-constituted representative, + religion with its professor—will err, and can not be reasoned out of + their errors. It is the unceasing operation of time which can alone teach + them a knowledge of the truth. You must not think too hardly of your + father, who does not love you the less because he fancies you are his + particular property, with whom he may do what he pleases. As for what I + have done, and am disposed to do for you, let that not become burdensome + to your gratitude. In some respects you have been a son to me, and I send + you from me with the same reluctance which a father would feel in the like + circumstances. You have been my companion, you have helped to cheer my + solitude; and I have learned to look on the progress of your mind with the + interest of the philosopher who pursues a favorite experiment. In + educating you, I have attempted an experiment which I should be sorry to + see fail. I do not think now that it will fail. I think you will do + yourself and me ample justice. If I have had my doubts, they were of your + courage, not your talent. If you have a weakness, it is because of a + deficiency of self-esteem—a tendency to self-disparagement. A little + more actual struggle with the world, and an utter withdrawal from those + helps and hands which in a youth's own home are very apt to be constantly + employed to keep him from falling, and to save him from the consequences + of his fall, and I do not despair of seeing you acquire that necessary + moral hardihood which will enable you to think freely, and to make your + mind give a fair utterance to the properties which are in it. When this is + done, I have every hope of you. You will rise to eminence in your + profession. I know, my son, that you will do me honor.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir, I am afraid you overrate my abilities. I have no consciousness + of any such resources as you suppose me to possess.” + </p> + <p> + “It is here that your deficiency speaks out. Be bold, my son—be + bold, bolder, boldest. I would not have you presumptuous, but there is a + courage, short of presumption, which is only a just confidence in one's + energies and moral determination. This you will soon form, if, looking + around you and into the performances of others, you see how easy they are, + and how far inferior they are to your own ideas of what excellence should + be. Do not look into yourself for your standards. I have perhaps erred in + making these too high. Look out from yourself—look into others—analyze + the properties of others; and, in attempting, seek only to meet the + exigencies of the occasion, without asking what a great mind might effect + beyond it. Your heart will fail you always if your beau ideal is for ever + present to your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “I will try, sir. My tasks are before me, and I know it is full time that + I should discard my boyhood. I will go to work with industry, and will + endeavor not to disappoint your confidence; but I must confess, sir, I + have very little in myself.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will work seriously, William, my faith is in this very humility. A + man knowing his own weakness, and working to be strong, can not fail. He + must achieve something more than he strives for.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me strong as I hear you, sir. But I have one request to make, + sir. I have a favor to ask, sir, which will make me almost happy if you + grant it—which will at least reconcile me to receive your favors, + and to feel them less oppressively.” + </p> + <p> + “What is that, William? You know, my son, there are few things which I + could refuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is that <i>I</i> MAY BE YOUR SON; that I may call you father, and bear + henceforward your name. If you adopt me, rear me, teach me, provide me + with the means of education and life, and do for me what a father should + have done, you are substantially more than my father to me. Let me bear, + your name. I shall be proud of it, sir. I will not disgrace it—nay, + more, it will strengthen me in my desire to do it and myself honor. When I + hear it spoken, it will remind me of my equal obligations to you and to + myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But this, my son, is a wrong done to your own father.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! he will not feel it such.” + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “You speak now with a feeling of anger, William. The treatment of your + father rankles in your mind.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, no! I freely forgive him. I have no reference to him in the + prayer I make. My purpose is simply what I declare. Your name will remind + me of your counsels, will increase my obligation to pursue them, will + strengthen me in my determination, will be to me a fond monitor in your + place. Oh, sir, do not deny me! You have shown me the affections of a + father—let me, I entreat you, bear the name of your son!” + </p> + <p> + The youth flung his arms about the old man's neck, and wept with a gush of + fondness which the venerable sire could not withstand. He was deeply + touched: his lips quivered; his eyes thrilled and throbbed. In vain did he + strive to resist the impulse. He gave him tear for tear. + </p> + <p> + “My son, you have unmanned me.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my father, I can not regret, since, in doing so, I have strengthened + my own manhood.” + </p> + <p> + “If it have this effect, William, I shall not regret my own weakness. + There is a bird, you are aware, of which it is fabled that it nourishes + its young by the blood of its own bosom, which it wounds for this purpose. + Believe me, my dear boy, I am not unwilling to be this bird for your sake. + If to feel for you as the fondest of fathers can give me the rights of + one, then are you most certainly my son—my son!” + </p> + <p> + Long, and fond, and sweet, was their embrace. For a full hour, but few + words, and those of a mournful tenderness, were exchanged between the + parties. But the scene and the struggle were drawing nigh their close. + This was the day when they were to separate. It had been arranged that + William Hinkley, or as he now calls himself, William Calvert, was to go + into the world. The old man had recalled for his sake, many of the + memories and associations of his youth. He had revived that period—in + his case one of equal bitterness and pleasure—when, a youth like him + he was about to send forth, he had been the ardent student in a profession + whose honors he had so sadly failed to reap. In this profession he was + then fortunate in having many sterling friends. Some of these were still + so. In withdrawing from society, he had not withdrawn from all commerce + with a select and sacred few; and to the friendly counsel and protection + of these he now deputed the paternal trusts which had been just so + solemnly surrendered to himself. There were long and earnest appeals + written to many noble associates—men who had won great names by dint + of honorable struggle in those fields into which the feebler temper of Mr. + Calvert did not permit him to penetrate. Some of these letters bore for + their superscriptions such names as the Clays, the Crittendens, and the + Metcalfs—the strong men, not merely of Kentucky, but of the Union. + The good old man sighed as he read them over, separately, to his young + companion. + </p> + <p> + “Once I stood with them, and like them—not the meanest among them—nay, + beloved by them as an associate, and recognised as a competitor. But they + are here—strong, high, glorious, in the eye of the nation—and + I am nothing—a poor white-headed pedagogue in the obscurest regions + of Kentucky. Oh, my son, remember this, and be strong! Beware of that + weakness, the offspring of a miserable vanity, which, claiming too much + for itself, can bestow nothing upon others. Strive only to meet the + exigency, and you will do more—you will pass beyond it. Ask not what + your fame requires—the poor fame of a solitary man struggling like + an atom in the bosom of the great struggling world—ask only what is + due to the task which you have assumed, and labor to do that. This is the + simple, small secret, but be sure it is the one which is of more + importance than all beside.” + </p> + <p> + The departure of William Hinkley from his native village was kept a + profound secret from all persons except his adopted father and his bosom + friend and cousin, Fisherman Ned. We have lost sight of this young man for + several pages, and, in justice equally to the reader and himself, it is + necessary that we should hurriedly retrace our progress, at least so far + as concerns his. We left him, if we remember, having driven Alfred Stevens + from his purpose, riding on alone, really with no other aim than to give + circulation to his limbs and fancies. His ride, if we are to believe his + random but significant words, and his very knowing looks, was not without + its results. He had certainly made some discoveries—at least he + thought and said so; but, in truth, we believe these amounted to nothing + more than some plausible conjectures as to the route which Alfred Stevens + was in the habit of pursuing, on those excursions, in which the neighbors + were disposed to think that there was something very mysterious. He + certainly had jumped to the conclusion that, on such occasions, the + journey of Stevens was prolonged to Ellisland; and, as such a ride was too + long for one of mere pleasure and exercise, the next conclusion was, that + such a journey had always some business in it. + </p> + <p> + Now, a business that calls for so much secrecy, in a young student of + theology, was certainly one that could have very little relation to the + church. So far as Ned Hinkley knew anything of the Decalogue it could not + well relate to that. There was nothing in St. Paul that required him to + travel post to Ellisland; though a voyage to Tarsus might be justified by + the authority of that apostle; and the whole proceeding, therefore, + appeared to be a mystery in which gospelling had very little to do. Very + naturally, having arrived at this conclusion, Ned Hinkley jumped to + another. If the saints have nothing to do with this journey of Alfred + Stevens, the sinners must have. It meant mischief—it was a device of + Satan; and the matter seemed so clearly made out to his own mind, that he + returned home with the further conviction, which was equally natural and + far more easily arrived at, that he was now bound by religion, as he had + previously been impelled by instinct, to give Stevens “a regular licking + the very first chance that offered.” Still, though determined on this + measure, he was not unmindful of the necessity of making other + discoveries; and he returned to Charlemont with a countenance big with + importance and almost black with mystery. + </p> + <p> + But the events which had taken place in his absence, and which we have + already related, almost put his own peculiar purposes out of his mind. + That William Hinkley should have cowskinned Stevens would have been much + more gratifying to him could he have been present; and he was almost + disposed to join with the rest in their outcry against this sacrilegious + proceeding, for the simple reason, that it somewhat anticipated his own + rigorous intentions to the same effect. He was not less dissatisfied with + the next attempt for two reasons. + </p> + <p> + “You might have known, Bill, that a parson won't fight with pistols. You + might have persuaded him to fist or cudgel, to a fair up and down, hand + over, fight! That's not so criminal, they think. I heard once of Brother + John Cross, himself trying a cudgel bout with another parson down in + Mississippi, because he took the same text out of his mouth, and preached + it over the very same day, with contrary reason. Everybody said that John + Cross served him right, and nobody blamed either. But they would have done + so if pistols had been used. You can't expect parsons or students of + religion to fight with firearms. Swords, now, they think justifiable, for + St. Peter used them; but we read nowhere in Old or New Testament of their + using guns, pistols, or rifles.” + </p> + <p> + “But he consented to fight, and brought his own pistols, Ned?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, didn't you fight? That's the next thing I blame you for—that, + when you were both ready, and had the puppies in your hands, you should + have stood looking at each other without taking a crack. By jingo, had + there been fifty fathers and mothers in the bush, I'd have had a crack at + him. No, I blame you, William—I can't help it. You didn't do right. + Oh! if you had only waited for me, and let me have fixed it, how finely we + would have managed. What then, if your father had burst in, it was only + shifting the barkers from your hands to mine. I'd have banged at him, + though John Cross himself, and all his flock, stood by and kneed it to + prevent me. They might have prayed to all eternity without stopping me, I + tell you.” + </p> + <p> + William Hinkley muttered something about the more impressive sort of + procedure which his father had resorted to, and a little soreness about + the parietal bones just at that moment giving a quick impatient air to his + manner, had the effect of putting an end to all further discussion of this + topic. Fisherman Ned concluded with a brief assurance, meant as + consolation, that, when he took up the cudgels, his cousin need make + himself perfectly easy with the conviction that he would balance both + accounts very effectually. He had previously exhorted William to renew the + attempt, though with different weapons, to bring his enemy into the field; + but against this attempt Mr. Calvert had already impressively enjoined + him; exacting from him a promise that he would not seek Stevens, and would + simply abide any call for satisfaction which the latter might make. The + worthy old man was well assured that in Stevens's situation there was very + little likelihood of a summons to the field from him. + </p> + <p> + Still, William Hinkley did not deem it becoming in him to leave the ground + for several days, even after his preparations for departure were complete. + He loitered in the neighborhood, showed himself frequently to his enemy, + and, on some of these occasions, was subjected to the mortification of + beholding the latter on his way to the house of Margaret Cooper, with + whom, a few moments after, he might be seen in lonely rambles by the + lake-side and in the wood. William had conquered his hopes from this + quarter, but he vainly endeavored to suppress his pangs. + </p> + <p> + At length the morning came for his departure. He had seen his mother for + the last time the night before. They had met at the house of the widow + Hinkley, between which and that of Calvert, his time had been chiefly + spent, since the day of his affair with Stevens. His determination to + depart was carefully concealed from his mother. He dreaded to hear her + entreaties, and he doubted his own strength to endure them. His + deportment, however, was sufficiently fond and tender, full of pain and + passion, to have convinced her, had she been at all suspicious of the + truth, of the design he meditated. But, as it was, it simply satisfied her + affections; and the fond “good night” with which he addressed her ears at + parting, was followed by a gush of tears which shocked the more sturdy + courage of his cousin, and aroused the suspicions of the widow. + </p> + <p> + “William Hinkley,” she said after the mother had gone home—“you must + be thinking to leave Charlemont. I'm sure of it—I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “If you do, say nothing, dear cousin; it will do no good—it can not + prevent me now, and will only make our parting more painful.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don't fear me,” said the widow—“I shan't speak of it, till it's + known to everybody, for I think you right to go and do just as Gran'pa + Calvert tells you; but you needn't have made it such a secret with me. + I've always been too much of your friend to say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said the youth mournfully, “until lately, dear cousin, I fancied + that I had no friends—do not blame me, therefore, if I still + sometimes act as if I had none.” + </p> + <p> + “You have many friends, William, already—I'm sure you will find many + more wherever you go; abler friends if not fonder ones, than you leave + behind you.” + </p> + <p> + The youth threw his arms round the widow's neck and kissed her tenderly. + Her words sounded in his ears like some melodious prophecy. + </p> + <p> + “Say no more, cousin,” he exclaimed with sudden enthusiasm; “I am so well + pleased to believe what you promise me of the future, that I am willing to + believe all. God bless you. I will never forget you.” + </p> + <p> + The parting with Calvert was more touching in reality, but with fewer of + the external signs of feeling. A few words, a single embrace and squeeze + of the hand, and they separated; the old man hiding himself and his + feelings in the dimness of his secluded abode, while his adopted son, with + whom Ned Hinkley rode a brief distance on his way, struck spurs into his + steed, as if to lose, in the rapid motion of the animal, the slow, sad + feelings which were pressing heavily upon his heart. He had left + Charlemont for ever. He had left it under circumstances of doubt, and + despondency—stung by injustice, and baffled in the first ardent + hopes of his youthful mind. “The world was all before him, where to + choose.” Let us not doubt that the benignant Providence is still his + guide. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV. — CONQUEST. + </h2> + <p> + The progress of events and our story necessarily brings as back to + Charlemont. We shall lose sight of William Hinkley, henceforth Calvert, + for some time; and here, par parenthese, let us say to our readers that + this story being drawn from veritable life, will lack some of that + compactness and close fitness of parts which make our novels too much + resemble the course of a common law case. Instead of having our characters + always at hand, at the proper moment, to do the business of the artist, + like so many puppets, each working on a convenient wire, and waiting to be + whistled in upon the scene, we shall find them sometimes absent, as we do + in real life when their presence is most seriously desired, and when the + reader would perhaps prefer that they should come in, to meet or make + emergencies. Some are gone whom we should rather see; some present, whose + absence, in the language of the Irishman, would be the best company they + could give us; and some, not forthcoming, like the spirits of Owen + Glendower, even when most stoutly called for. The vast deeps of human + progress do not release their tenants at the beck and call of ordinary + magicians, and we, who endeavor to describe events as we find them, must + be content to take them and persons, too, only when they are willing. Were + we writing the dramatic romance, we should be required to keep William + Hinkley always at hand, as a convenient foil to Alfred Stevens. He should + watch his progress; pursue his sinuosities of course; trace him out in all + his ill-favored purposes, and be ready, at the first act—having, + like the falcon, by frequent and constantly-ascending gyrations, reached + the point of command—to pounce down upon the fated quarry, and end + the story and the strife together. But ours is a social narrative, where + people come and go without much regard to the unities, and without asking + leave of the manager. William Hinkley, too, is a mere man and no hero. He + has no time to spare, and he is conscious that he has already wasted too + much. He has work to do and is gone to do it. Let it console the reader, + in his absence, to know that he WILL do it—that his promise is a + good one—and that we have already been shown, in the dim perspective + of the future, glimpses of his course which compensate him for his + mishaps, and gladden the heart of his adopted father, by confirming its + prophecies and hopes. + </p> + <p> + The same fates which deny that he should realize the first fancies of his + boyhood, are, in the end, perhaps, not a jot kinder to others whom they + now rather seem to favor. His absence did not stop the social machine of + Charlemont from travelling on very much as before. There was a shadow over + his mother's heart, and his disappearance rather aroused some misgiving + and self-reproachful sensations in that of his father. Mr. Calvert, too, + had his touch of hypochondria in consequence of his increased loneliness, + and Ned Hinkley's fighting monomania underwent startling increase; but, + with the rest, the wheel went on without much sensible difference. The + truth is, that, however mortifying the truth may be, the best of us makes + but a very small sensation in his absence. Death is a longer absence, in + which our friends either forget us, or recollect our vices. Our virtues + are best acknowledged when we are standing nigh and ready to enforce them. + Like the argumentative eloquence of the Eighth Harry, they are never + effectual until the halberdiers clinch their rivets forcibly. + </p> + <p> + It does not necessarily impugn the benevolence or wisdom of Providence to + show that crime is successful for a season in its purposes. Vice may + prevail, and victims perish, without necessarily disparaging the career, + or impeding the progress of virtue. To show that innocence may fall, is + sometimes to strengthen innocence, so that it may stand against all + assailants. To show vice, even in its moments of success, is not + necessarily to show that such success is desirable. Far from it! As none + of us can look very deeply into the future, so it happens that the boon + for which we pray sometimes turns out to be our bane; while the hardship + and suffering, whose approach we deprecate in sackcloth and ashes, may + come with healing on their wings, and afford us a dearer blessing than any + ever yet depicted in the loom of a sanguine and brilliant imagination. + </p> + <p> + We are, after all, humbling as this fact may be to our clamorous vanity, + only so many agents and instruments, blind, and scuffling vainly in our + blindness, in the perpetual law of progress. As a soul never dies, so it + is never useless or unemployed. The Deity is no more profligate in the + matter of souls than he is in that of seeds. They pass, by periodical + transitions, from body to body; perhaps from sphere to sphere; and as the + performance of their trusts have been praiseworthy or censurable, so will + be the character of their trusts in future. He who has shown himself + worthy of confidence in one state, will probably acquire a corresponding + increase of responsibility in another. He who has betrayed his trusts or + impaired them, will share less of the privileges of the great moral credit + system. + </p> + <p> + In all these transitions, however, work is to be done. The fact that there + is a trust, implies duty and performance; and the practice of virtue is + nothing more than the performance of this work to the best of our + abilities. Well, we do not do our work. We fail in our trusts. We abuse + tuem. Such a man as Alfred Stevens abuses them. Such a woman as Margaret + Cooper fails in them. What then? Do we destroy the slave who fails in his + duty, or chasten him, and give him inferior trusts? Do you suppose that + the Deity is more profligate in souls than in seeds—that he creates + and sends forth millions of new souls, annually, in place of those which + have gone astray? Hardly so! He is too good an economist for that. We + learn this from all the analogies. As a soul can not perish, so it never + remains unemployed. It still works, though its labors may be confined to a + treadmill. + </p> + <p> + The mere novel-reader may regard all this as so much unnecessary + digression. But let him not deceive himself. It would be the most + humiliating and painful thought, indeed, could we believe that the genius + which informs and delights us—which guides the bark of state through + a thousand storms and dangers to its port of safety—which conquers + and commands—which sings in melodies that make melodies in human + hearts for thousands of succeeding years—is suddenly to be suspended—to + have no more employment—to do no more work—guide no more + states—make no more melodies! Nay, the pang would be scarcely less + to believe that a fair intellect like that of Alfred Stevens, or a wild, + irregular genius, like that of Margaret Cooper—because of its + erring, either through perversity or blindness, is wholly to become + defunct, so far as employment is concerned—that they are to be + deprived of all privilege of working up to the lost places—regaining + the squandered talents—atoning, by industry and humble desire, the + errors and deficiencies of the past! We rather believe that heaven is a + world where the labors are more elevated, the necessities less degrading; + that it is no more permanent than what we esteem present life; nay, that + it is destined to other transitions; that we may still ascend, on and on, + and that each heaven has its higher heaven yet. We believe that our + immortality is from the beginning; that time is only a periodical step in + eternity——that transition is the true meaning of life—and + death nothing more than a sign of progress. It may be an upward or a + downward progress, but it is not a toilsome march to a mere sleep. Lavish + as is the bounty of God, and boundless as are his resources, there is + nothing of him that we do know which can justify the idea of such utter + profligacy of material. + </p> + <p> + We transgress. Our business is with the present doings of our dramatis + persons and not with the future employment of their souls. Still, we + believe, the doctrine which we teach not only to be more rational, but + absolutely more moral than the conjectures on this subject which are in + ordinary use. More rational as relates to the characteristics of the + Deity, and more moral as it affects the conduct and the purposes of man + himself. There is something grand beyond all things else, in the + conception of this eternal progress of the individual nature; its passage + from condition to condition; sphere to sphere; life to life; always busy, + working for the mighty Master; falling and sinking to mere menial toils, + or achieving and rising to more noble trusts; but, at all events, still + working in some way in the great world-plantation, and under the direct + eye of the sovereign World-Planter. The torture of souls on the one hand, + and the singing of psalms on the other, may be doctrines infinitely more + orthodox; but, to our mind, they seem immeasurably inferior in grandeur, + in propriety, in noble conception of the appointments of the creature, and + the wondrous and lovely designs of the benignant Father. + </p> + <p> + The defeat of such a soul as that of Margaret Cooper can surely be a + temporary defeat only. It will regain strength, it must rise in the + future, it must recover the lost ground, and reassert the empire whose + sway it has unwillingly abandoned; for it is not through will, wholly, by + which we lose the moral eminence. Something is due to human weaknesses; to + the blindness in which a noble spirit is sometimes suffered to grow into + stature; disproportioned stature—that, reaching to heaven, is yet + shaken down and overthrown by the merest breath of storm that sweeps + suddenly beneath its skies. The very hopelessness of Margaret Cooper's + ambition, which led her to misanthropy, was the source of an ever-fertile + and upspringing confidence. Thus it was that the favoring opinions which + Alfred Stevens expressed—a favoring opinion expressed by one whom + she soon discovered was well able to form one—accompanied by an + assurance that the dream of fame which her wild imagination had formed + should certainly be realized, gave him a large power over her confidence. + Her passion was sway—the sway of mind over mind—of genius over + sympathy—of the syren Genius over the subject Love. It was this + passion which had made her proud, which had filled her mind with visions, + and yielded to her a world by itself, and like no other, filled with all + forms of worship and attraction; chivalrous faith, unflagging zeal, + generous confidence, pure spirits, and the most unquestioning loyalty! + Ignorant of the world which she had not seen, and of those movements of + human passion which she had really never felt, she naturally regarded + Alfred Stevens as one of the noble representatives of that imaginary + empire which her genius continually brought before her eyes. She saw in + him the embodiment of that faith in her intellect which it was the first + and last hope of her intellect to inspire; and seeing thus, it will be + easy to believe that her full heart, which, hitherto, had poured itself + forth on rocks, and trees, and solitary places, forgetful of all prudence—a + lesson which she had never learned—and rejoicing in the sympathy of + a being like herself, now gushed forth with all the volume of its + impatient fullness. The adroit art of her companion led her for ever into + herself; she was continually summoned to pour forth the treasures of her + mind and soul; and, toiling in the same sort of egoisme in which her life + heretofore had been consumed, she was necessarily diverted from all doubts + or apprehensions of the occult purposes of him who had thus beguiled her + over the long frequented paths. As the great secret of success with the + mere worldling, is to pry into the secret of his neighbor while carefully + concealing his own, so it is the great misfortune of enthusiasm to be soon + blinded to a purpose which its own ardent nature neither allows it to + suspect nor penetrate. Enthusiasm is a thing of utter confidence; it has + no suspicion; it sets no watch on other hearts; it is too constantly + employed in pouring forth the treasures of its own. It is easy, therefore, + to deceive and betray it, to beguile it into confidence, and turn all its + revelations against itself. How far the frequency of this usage in the + world makes it honorable, is a question which we need not discuss on this + occasion. + </p> + <p> + Alfred Stevens had now been for some weeks in the village of Charlemont, + where, in the meantime, he had become an object of constantly-increasing + interest. The men shrank from him with a feeling of inferiority; the women—the + young ones being understood—shrank from him also, but with that + natural art of the sex which invites pursuit, and strives to conquer even + in flight. But it was soon evident enough that Stevens bestowed his best + regards solely upon Margaret Cooper. If he sought the rest, it was simply + in compliance with those seeming duties of his ostensible profession which + were necessary to maintain appearances. Whether he loved Margaret Cooper + or not, he soon found a pleasure in her society which he sought for in no + other quarter of the village. The days, in spite of the strife with + William Hinkley, flew by with equal pleasantness and rapidity to both. The + unsophisticated mind of Margaret Cooper left her sensible to few + restraints upon their ordinary intercourse; and, indeed, if she did know + or regard them for an instant, it was only to consider them as necessary + restraints for the protection of the ignorant and feeble of her sex—a + class in which she never once thought to include herself. Her attachment + to Alfred Stevens, though it first arose from the pleasure which her mind + derived from its intercourse with his, and not from any of those nice and + curious sympathies of temperament and taste which are supposed to + constitute the essence and comprise the secret of love, was yet sufficient + to blind her judgment to the risks of feeling, if nothing more, which were + likely to arise from their hourly-increasing intimacy; and she wandered + with him into the devious woods, and they walked by moonlight among the + solemn-shaded hills, and the unconscious girl had no sort of apprehension + that the spells of an enslaving passion were rapidly passing over her + soul. + </p> + <p> + How should she apprehend such spells? how break them? For the first time + in her life had she found intellectual sympathy—the only moral + response which her heart longed to hear. For the first time had she + encountered a mind which could do justice to, and correspond on anything + like equal terms with, her own. How could she think that evil would ensue + from an acquisition which yielded her the only communion which she had + ever craved Her confidence in herself, in her own strength, and her + ignorance of her own passions, were sufficient to render her feelings + secure; and then she was too well satisfied of the superiority and + nobleness of his. But, in truth, she never thought upon the subject. Her + mind dwelt only on the divine forms and images of poetry. The ideal world + had superseded, not only the dangers, but the very aspect, of the real. + Under the magic action of her fancy, she had come to dwell + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “With those gay creatures of the element + That in the colors of the rainbow live, + And play i' the plighted clouds”— +</pre> + <p> + she had come to speak only in the one language, and of the one topic; and, + believing now that she had an auditor equally able to comprehend and + willing to sympathize with her cravings, she gave free scope to the + utterance of her fancies, and to the headlong impulse of that imagination + which had never felt the curb. + </p> + <p> + The young heart, not yet chilled by the world's denials, will readily + comprehend the beguiling influence of the dreaming and enthusiastic nature + of some dear spirit, in whose faith it has full confidence, and whose + tastes are kindred with its own. How sweet the luxury of moonlight in + commerce with such a congenial spirit! how heavenly the occasional breath + of the sweet southwest! how gentle and soothing fond the whispers of night—the + twirling progress of sad-shining stars—the gentle sway of winds + among the tree-tops—the plaintive moan of billows, as they gather + and disperse themselves along the shores! To speak of these delights; to + walk hand-in-hand along the gray sands by the seaside, and whisper in + murmuring tones, that seem to gather sympathies from those of ocean; to + guide the eye of the beloved associate to the sudden object; to challenge + the kindred fancy which comments upon our own; to remember together, and + repeat, the happy verse of inspired poets, speaking of the scene, and to + the awakened heart which feels it; and, more, to pour forth one's own + inspirations in the language of tenderness and song, and awaken in the + heart of our companion the rapture to which our own has given speech—these, + which are subjects of mock and scorn to the worldling, are substantial + though not enduring joys to the young and ardent nature. + </p> + <p> + In this communion, with all her pride, strength, and confidence, Margaret + Cooper was the merest child. Without a feeling of guile, she was dreaming + of the greatness which her ambition craved, and telling her dreams, with + all the artless freedom of the child who has some golden fancy of the + future, which it seeks to have confirmed by the lips of experience. The + wily Stevens led her on, gave stimulus to her enthusiasm, made her dreams + become reasonable in her eyes, and laughed at them in his secret heart. + She sung at his suggestion, and sang her own verses with all that natural + tremor which even the most self-assured poet feels on such an occasion. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful!” the arch-hypocrite would exclaim, as if unconscious of + utterance; “beautiful!” and his hand would possess itself of the trembling + fingers of hers. “But beautiful as it is, Margaret, I am sure that it is + nothing to what you could do under more auspicious circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! if there were ears to hear, if there were hearts to feel, and eyes to + weep, I feel, I know, what might be done. No, no! this is nothing. This is + the work of a child.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Margaret, if the work of a child, it is that of a child of genius.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! do not flatter me, Alfred Stevens, do not deceive me. I am too + willing to believe you, for it is so dear a feeling to think that I too am + a poet. Yet, at the first, I had not the smallest notion of this kind: I + neither knew what poetry was, nor felt the desire to be a poet. Yet I + yearned with strange feelings, which uttered themselves in that form ere I + had seen books or read the verses of others. It was an instinct that led + me as it would. I sometimes fear that I have been foolish in obeying it; + for oh, what has it brought me? What am I? what are my joys? I am lonely + even with my companions. I share not the sports and feel not the things + which delight my sex. Their dances and frolics give me no pleasure. I have + no sympathy with them or their cares. I go apart—I am here on the + hills, or deep in the forests—sad, lonely, scarcely knowing what I + am, and what I desire.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not alone, nor are your pleasures less acute than theirs. If they + laugh, their laughter ends in sleep. If you are sad, you lose not the + slightest faculty of perception or sensibility, but rather gain them in + consequence. Laughter and tears are signs neither of happiness nor grief, + and as frequently result from absolute indifference as from any active + emotion. If you are absent from them, you have better company. You can + summon spirits to your communion, Margaret; noble thoughts attend you; + eyes that cheer, lips that assure you, and whispers, from unknown + attendants, that bid you be of good heart, for the good time is coming. + Ah! Margaret, believe me when I tell you that time is at hand. Such a + genius as yours, such a spirit, can not always be buried in these woods.” + </p> + <p> + It was in such artful language as this that the arch-hypocrite flattered + and beguiled her. They were wandering along the edge of the streamlet to + which we have more than once conducted the footsteps of the reader. The + sun was about setting. The autumn air was mild with a gentle breathing + from the south. The woods were still and meek as the slumbers of an + infant. The quiet of the scene harmonized with the temper of their + thoughts and feelings. They sat upon a fragment of the rock. Margaret was + silent, but her eyes were glistening bright—not with hope only, but + with that first glimmering consciousness of a warmer feeling, which gives + a purple light to hope, and makes the heart tremble, for the first time, + with its own expectations. It did not escape Alfred Stevens that, for the + first time, her eye sank beneath his glance; for the first time there was + a slight flush upon her cheek. He was careful not to startle and alarm the + consciousness which these signs indicated. The first feeling which the + young heart has of its dependence upon another is one little short of + terror; it is a feeling which wakens up suspicion, and puts all the senses + upon the watch. To appear to perceive this emotion is to make it + circumspect; to disarm it, one must wear the aspect of unconsciousness. + The wily Stevens, practised in the game, and master of the nature of the + unsuspecting girl, betrayed in his looks none of the intelligence which he + felt. If he uttered himself in the language of admiration, it was that + admiration which would be natural to a profound adorer of literature and + all its professors. His words were those of the amateur:— + </p> + <p> + “I can not understand, Margaret, how you have studied—how you have + learned so much—your books are few—you have had no masters. I + never met in my life with so remarkable an instance of unassisted + endeavor.” + </p> + <p> + “My books were hero in the woods—among these old rocks. My teacher + was solitude. Ah! there is no teacher like one's own heart. My instinct + made me feel my deficiencies—my deficiencies taught me contemplation—and + from contemplation came thoughts and cravings, and you know, when the + consciousness of our lack is greatest, then, even the dumb man finds a + voice. I found my voice in consequence of my wants. My language you see is + that of complaint only.” + </p> + <p> + “And a sweet and noble language it is, Margaret; but it is not in poetry + alone that your utterance is so distinct and beautiful—you sing too + with a taste as well as power which would prove that contemplation was as + happy in bringing about perfection in the one as in the other art. Do sing + me, Margaret, that little ditty which you sang here the other night?” + </p> + <p> + His hand gently detained and pressed hers as he urged the request. + </p> + <p> + “I would rather not sing to-night,” she replied, “I do not feel as if I + could, and I trust altogether to feeling. I will sing for you some other + time when you do not ask, and, perhaps would prefer not to hear me.” + </p> + <p> + “To hear you at all, Margaret, is music to my ears.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent, and her fingers made a slight movement to detach + themselves from his. + </p> + <p> + “No, Margaret, do not withdraw them! Let me detain them thus—longer—for + ever! My admiration of you has been too deeply felt not to have been too + clearly shown, Your genius is too dear to me now to suffer me to lose it. + Margaret—dear Margaret!” + </p> + <p> + She spoke not—her breathing became quick and hard. + </p> + <p> + “You do not speak, let me hope that you are not angry with me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” she whispered faintly. He continued with more boldness, and + while he spoke, his arm encircled her waist. + </p> + <p> + “A blessed chance brought me to your village. I saw you and returned. I + chose a disguise in which I might study you, and see how far the treasures + of your mind confirmed the noble promise of your face. They have done + more. Like him who finds the precious ore among the mountains, I can not + part with you so found. I must tear you from the soil. I must bear you + with me. You must be mine, Margaret—you must go with me where the + world will see, and envy me my prize.” + </p> + <p> + He pressed her to his bosom. She struggled slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Do not, do not, Alfred Stevens, do not press me—do not keep me. You + think too much of me. I am no treasure—alas! this is all deception. + You can not—can not desire it?” + </p> + <p> + “Do I not! Ah! Margaret, what else do I desire now? Do you think me only + what I appear in Charlemont?” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” + </p> + <p> + “I have the power of a name, Margaret, in my profession—among a + numerous people—and that power is growing into wealth and sway. I am + feared and honored, loved by some, almost worshipped by others; and what + has led me from this sway, to linger among these hills—to waste + hours so precious to ambition—to risk the influence which I had + already secured—what, but a higher impulse—a dearer prospect—a + treasure, Margaret, of equal beauty and genius.” + </p> + <p> + Her face was hidden upon his bosom. He felt the beating of her heart + against his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If you have a genius for song, Margaret Cooper, I, too, am not without my + boast. In my profession, men speak of my eloquence as that of a genius + which has few equals, and no superior.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it—it must be so!” + </p> + <p> + “Move me not to boast, dear Margaret; it is in your ears only that I do so—and + only to assure you that, in listening to my love, you do not yield to one + utterly obscure, and wanting in claims, which, as yours must be finally, + are already held to be established and worthy of the best admiration of + the intelligent and wise. Do you hear me, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “I do, I do! It must be as you say. But of love I have thought nothing. + No, no! I know not, Alfred Stevens, if I love or not—if I can love.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake, Margaret. It is in the heart that the head finds its + inspiration. Mere intellect makes not genius. All the intellect in the + world would fail of this divine consummation. It is from the fountains of + feeling that poetry drinks her inspiration. It is at the altars of love + that the genius of song first bends in adoration. You have loved, + Margaret, from the first moment when you sung. It did not alter the case + that there was no object of sight. The image was in your mind—in + your hope. One sometimes goes through life without ever meeting the human + counterpart of this ideal; and the language of such a heart will be that + of chagrin—distaste of life—misanthropy, and a general scorn + of his own nature. Such, I trust, is not your destiny. No, Margaret, that + is impossible. I take your doubt as my answer, and unless your own lips + undeceive me, dearest Margaret, I will believe that your love is willing + to requite my own.” + </p> + <p> + She was actually sobbing on his breast. With an effort she struggled into + utterance. + </p> + <p> + “My heart is so full, my feelings are so strange—oh! Alfred Stevens, + I never fancied I could be so weak.” + </p> + <p> + “So weak—to love! surely, Margaret, you mistake the word. It is in + loving only that the heart finds its strength. Love is the heart's sole + business; and not to exercise it in its duties is to impair its faculties, + and deprive it equally of its pleasures and its tasks. Oh, I will teach + you of the uses of this little heart of yours, dear Margaret—ay, + till it grow big with its own capacity to teach. We will inform each + other, every hour, of some new impulses and objects. Our dreams, our + hopes, our fears, and our desires, ah! Margaret—what a study of love + will these afford us. Nor to love only. Ah! dearest, when your muse shall + have its audience, its numerous watching eyes and eager ears, then shall + you discover how much richer will be the strain from your lips once + informed by the gushing fullness of this throbbing heart.” + </p> + <p> + She murmured fondly in his embrace, “Ah! I ask no other eyes and ears than + yours.” + </p> + <p> + In the glow of a new and overpowering emotion, such indeed was her + feeling. He gathered her up closer in his arms. He pressed his lips upon + the rich ripe beauties of hers, as some hungering bee, darting upon the + yet unrifled flower which it first finds in the shadows of the forest, + clings to, and riots on, the luscious loveliness, as if appetite could + only be sated in its exhaustion. She struggled and freed herself from his + embrace: but, returning home that evening her eye was cast upon the + ground; her step was set down hesitatingly; there was a tremor in her + heart; a timid expression in her face and manner! These were proofs of the + discovery which she then seems to have made for the first time, that there + is a power stronger than mere human will—a power that controls + genius; that mocks at fame; feels not the lack of fortune, and is + independent of the loss of friends! She now first knew her weakness. She + had felt the strength of love! Ah! the best of us may quail, whatever his + hardihood, in the day when love asserts HIS strength and goes forth to + victory. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper sought her chamber, threw herself on the bed, and turned + her face in the pillow to hide the burning blushes which, with every + movement of thought and memory, seemed to increase upon her cheek. Yet, + while she blushed and even wept, her heart throbbed and trembled with the + birth of a new emotion of joy. Ah! how sweet is our first secret pleasure—shared + by one other only—sweet to that other as to ourself—so + precious to him also. To be carried into our chamber—to be set up + ostentatiously—there, where none but ourselves may see—to be + an object of our constant tendance, careful idolatry, keen suspicion, + delighted worship! + </p> + <p> + Ah! but if the other makes it no idol—his toy only—what shall + follow this desecration of the sacred thing! What but shame, remorse, + humiliation, perhaps death!—alas! for Margaret Cooper, the love + which had so suddenly grown into a precious divinity with her, was no + divinity with him. He is no believer. He has no faith in such things, but + like the trader in religion, he can preach deftly the good doctrines which + he can not feel and is slow to practise. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI. — FALL. + </h2> + <p> + We should speak unprofitably and with little prospect of being understood, + did our readers require to be told, that there is a certain impatient and + gnawing restlessness in the heart of love, which keeps it for ever + feverish and anxious. Where this passion is associated with a warm, + enthusiastic genius, owning the poetic temperament, the anxiety is + proportionatly greater. The ideal of the mind is a sort of classical image + of perfect loveliness, chaste, sweet, commanding, but, how cold! But love + gives life to this image, even as the warm rays of the sun falling upon + the sullen lips of the Memnon, compel its utterance in music. It not only + looks beauty—it breathes it. It is not only the aspect of the + Apollo, it is the god himself; his full lyre strung, his golden bow + quivering at his back with the majesty of his motion; and his lips parting + with the song which shall make the ravished spheres stoop, and gather + round to listen. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto Margaret Cooper had been a girl of strong will; will nursed in + solitude, and by the wrong-headed indulgence of a vain and foolish mother. + She was conscious of that bounding, bursting soul of genius which + possessed her bosom; that strange, moody, and capricious god; pent-up, + denied, crying evermore for utterance, with a breath more painful to + endure, because of the suppression. This consciousness, with the feeling + of denial which attended it, had cast a gloomy intensity over her features + not less than her mind. The belief that she was possessed of treasures + which were unvalued—that she had powers which were never to be + exercised—that with a song such as might startle an empire, she was + yet doomed to a silent and senseless auditory of rocks and trees; this + belief had brought with it a moody arrogance of temper which had made + itself felt by all around her. In one hour this mood had departed. + Ambition and love became united for a common purpose; for the object of + the latter, was also the profound admirer of the former. + </p> + <p> + The anxious restlessness which her newly-acquired sensations occasioned in + her bosom, was not diminished by a renewal of those tender interviews with + her lover, which we have endeavored, though so faultily, already to + describe. Evening after evening found them together; the wily hypocrite + still stimulating, by his glozing artifices, the ruling passion for fame, + which, in her bosom, was only temporarily subservient to love, while he + drank his precious reward from her warm, lovely, and still-blushing lips + and cheeks. The very isolation in which she had previously dwelt in + Charlemont, rendered the society of Stevens still more dear to her heart. + She was no longer alone—no longer unknown—not now + unappreciated in that respect in which hitherto she felt her great denial. + “Here is one—himself a genius—who can do justice to mine.” + </p> + <p> + The young poet who finds an auditor, where he has never had one before, + may be likened to a blind man suddenly put in possession of his sight. He + sees sun and moon and stars, the forms of beauty, the images of grace; and + his soul grows intoxicated with the wonders of its new empire. What does + he owe to him who puts him in possession of these treasures? who has given + him his sight? Love, devotion, all that his full heart has to pay of + homage and affection. + </p> + <p> + Such was very much the relation which Margaret Cooper bore to Alfred + Stevens; and when, by his professions of love, he left the shows of his + admiration no longer doubtful, she was at once and entirely his. She was + no longer the self-willed, imperious damsel, full of defiance, dreaming of + admiration only, scornful of the inferior, and challenging the regards of + equals. She was now a timid, trembling girl—a dependant, such as the + devoted heart must ever be, waiting for the sign to speak, looking eagerly + for the smile to reward her sweetest utterance. If now she walked with + Stevens, she no longer led the way; she hung a little backward, though she + grasped his arm—nay, even when her hand was covered with a gentle + pressure in the folds of his. If she sung, she did not venture to meet his + eyes, which she FELT must be upon hers, and now it was no longer her + desire that the village damsels should behold them as they went forth + together on their rambles. She no longer met their cunning and significant + smiles with confidence and pride, but with faltering looks, and with + cheeks covered with blushes. Great, indeed, was the change which had come + over that once proud spirit—change surprising to all, but as natural + as any other of the thousand changes which are produced in the progress of + moments by the arch-magician, Love. Heretofore, her song had disdained the + ordinary topics of the youthful ballad-monger. She had uttered her + apostrophes to the eagle, soaring through the black, billowy masses of the + coming thunder-storm; to the lonely but lofty rock, lonely in its + loftiness, which no foot travelled but her own; to the silent glooms of + the forest—to the majesty of white-bearded and majestic trees. The + dove and the zephyr now shared her song, and a deep sigh commonly closed + it. She was changed from what she was. The affections had suddenly bounded + into being, trampling the petty vanities underfoot; and those first + lessons of humility which are taught by love, had subdued a spirit which, + hitherto, had never known control. + </p> + <p> + Alfred Stevens soon perceived how complete was his victory. He soon saw + the extent of that sudden change which had come over her character. + Hitherto, she had been the orator. When they stood together by the + lake-side, or upon the rock, it was her finger which had pointed out the + objects for contemplation; it was her voice whose eloquence had charmed + the ear, dilating upon the beauties or the wonders which they surveyed. + She was now no longer eloquent in words. But she looked a deeper eloquence + by far than any words could embody. He was now the speaker; and regarding + him through the favoring media of kindled affections, it seemed to her + ear, that there was no eloquence so sweet as his. He spoke briefly of the + natural beauties by which they were surrounded. + </p> + <p> + “Trees, rocks, the valley and the hill, all realms of solitude and shade, + inspire enthusiasm and ardor in the imaginative spirit. They are + beneficial for this purpose. For the training of a great poet they are + necessary. They have the effect of lifting the mind to the contemplation + of vastness, depth, height, profundity. This produces an intensity of mood—the + natural result of any association between our own feelings and such + objects as are lofty and noble in the external world. The feelings and + passions as they are influenced by the petty play of society, which + diffuses their power and breaks their lights into little, become + concentrated on the noble and the grand. Serious earnestness of nature + becomes habitual—the heart flings itself into all the subjects of + its interest—it trifles with none—all its labors become sacred + in its eyes, and the latest object of study and analysis is that which is + always most important. The effect of this training in youth on the poetic + mind, is to the last degree beneficial; since, without a degree of + seriousness amounting to intensity—without a hearty faith in the + importance of what is to be done—without a passionate fullness of + soul which drives one to his task—there will be no truthfulness, no + eloquence, no concentrated thought and permanent achievement. With, you, + dear Margaret, such has already been the effect. You shrink from the + ordinary enjoyments of society. Their bald chat distresses you, as the + chatter of so many jays. You prefer the solitude which feeds the serious + mood which you love, and enables your imagination, unrepressed by the + presence of shallow witlings, to evoke its agents from storm and shadow—from + deep forest and lonesome lake—to minister to the cravings of an + excited heart, and a soaring and ambitious fancy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how truly, Alfred, do you speak it,” she murmured as he closed. + </p> + <p> + “So far, so good; but, dear Margaret—there are other subjects of + study which are equally necessary for the great poet. The wild aspects of + nature are such as are of use in the first years of his probation. To grow + up in the woods and among the rocks, so that a hearty simplicity, an + earnest directness, with a constant habit of contemplation should be + permanently formed, is a first and necessary object. But it is in this + training as in every other. There are successive steps. There is a law of + progressive advance. You must not stop there. The greatest moral study for + the poet must follow. This is the study of man in society—in the + great world—where he puts on a thousand various aspects—far + other than those which are seen in the country—in correspondence + with the thousand shapes of fortune, necessity, or caprice, which attend + him there. Indeed, it may safely be said, that he never knows one half of + the responsibility of his tasks who toils without the presence of those + for whom he toils. It is in the neighborhood of man that we feel his and + our importance. It is while we are watching his strifes and struggles that + we see the awful importance of his destiny; and the great trusts of self, + and truth, and the future, which have been delivered to his hands. Here + you do not see man. You see certain shapes, which are employed in raising + hay, turnips, and potatoes; which eat and drink very much as man does; but + which, as they suffer to sleep and rest most of those latent faculties, + the exercise of which can alone establish the superiority of the + intellectual over the animal nature, so they have no more right to the + name of man than any other of those animals who eat as industriously, and + sleep as profoundly, as themselves. The contemplation of the superior + being, engaged in superior toils, awakens superior faculties in the + observer. He who sees nothing but the gathering of turnips will think of + nothing but turnips. As we enlarge the sphere of our observation, the + faculty of thought becomes expanded. You will discover this wonderful + change when you go into the world. Hitherto, your inspirers have been + these groves, these rocks, lakes, trees, and silent places. But, when you + sit amid crowds of bright-eyed, full-minded, and admiring people; when you + see the eyes of thousands looking for the light to shine from yours; + hanging, with a delight that still hungers, on the words of truth and + beauty which fall from your lips—then, then only, dearest Margaret, + will you discover the true sources of inspiration and of fame.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she murmured despondingly—“you daunt me when you speak of + these crowds—crowds of the intellectual and the wise. What should I + be—how would I appear among them?” + </p> + <p> + “As you appear to me, Margaret—their queen, their idol, their + divinity, not less a beauty than a muse?” + </p> + <p> + The raptures which Stevens expressed seemed to justify the embrace which + followed it; and it was some moments before she again spoke. When she did + the same subject was running in her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Alfred, still I fear!” + </p> + <p> + “Fear nothing, Margaret. It will be as I tell you—as I promise! If I + deceive you, I deceive myself. Is it not for the wife of my bosom that I + expect this homage?” + </p> + <p> + Her murmurs were unheard. They strolled on—still deeper into the + mazes of the forest, and the broad disk of the moon, suddenly gleaming, + yellow, through the tops of the trees, surprised them in their wanderings. + </p> + <p> + “How beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Let us sit here, dearest Margaret. The + rock here is smooth and covered with the softest lichen. A perfect carpet + of it is at our feet, and the brooklet makes the sweetest murmuring as it + glides onward through the grove, telling all the while, like some silly + schoolgirl, where you may look for it. See the little drops of moonlight + falling here—and there in the small openings of the forest, and + lying upon the greensward like so many scattered bits of silver. One might + take it for fairy coin. And, do you note the soft breeze that seems to + rise with the moon as from some Cytherean isle, breathing of love, love + only—love never perishing!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! were it so, Alfred!” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not, Margaret? If I could fancy that you would cease to love me or + I you—could I think that these dear joys were to end—but no! + no! let us not think of it. It is too sweet to believe, and the distrust + seems as unholy as it is unwholesome. That bright soft planet seems to + persuade to confidence as it inspires love. Do you not feel your heart + soften in the moonlight, Margaret? your eye glistens, dearest—and + your heart, I know, must be touched. It is—I feel its beating! What + a tumult, dear Margaret, is here!” + </p> + <p> + “Do not, do not!” she murmured, gently striving to disengage herself from + his grasp. + </p> + <p> + “No! no!—move not, dearest,” he replied in a subdued tone—a + murmur most like hers. “Are we not happy? Is there anything, dear + Margaret, which we could wish for?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing! nothing!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! what a blessed chance it was that brought me to these hills. I never + lived till now. I had my joys, Margaret—my triumphs! I freely yield + them to the past! I care for them no more! They are no longer joys or + triumphs! Yes, Margaret you have changed my heart within me. Even fame + which I so much worshipped is forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Say not that; oh, say not that!” she exclaimed, but still in subdued + accents. + </p> + <p> + “I must—it is too far true. I could give up the shout of applause—the + honor of popular favor—the voice of a people's approbation—the + shining display and the golden honor—all, dear Margaret, sooner than + part with you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you need not give them up, Alfred.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, dearest, but I have no soul for them now. You are alone my soul, my + saint—the one dear object, desire, and pride, and conquest.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! and have you not conquered, Alfred?” + </p> + <p> + “Sweet! do I not say that I am content to forfeit all honors, triumphs, + applauses—all that was so dear to me before—and only in the + fond faith that I had conquered? You are mine—you tell me so with + your dear lips—I have you in my fond embrace—ah! do not talk + to me again of fame.” + </p> + <p> + “I were untrue to you as to myself, dear Alfred, did I not. No! with your + talents, to forego their uses—to deliver yourself up to love wholly, + were as criminal as it would be unwise.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall be my inspiration then, dear Margaret. These lips shall send me + to the forum—these eyes shall reward me with smiles when I return. + Your applause shall be to me a dearer triumph than all the clamors of the + populace.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us return home—it is late.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so!—and why should we go? What is sleep to us but loss? What + the dull hours, spent after the ordinary fashion, among ordinary people. + Could any scene be more beautiful than this—ah! can any feeling be + more sweet? Is it not so to you, dearest? tell me—nay, do not tell + me—if you love as I do, you can not leave me—not now—not + thus—while such is the beauty of earth and heaven—while such + are the rich joys clustering in our hearts. Nay, while, in that hallowing + moonlight, I gaze upon thy dark eyes, and streaming hair, thy fair, + beautiful cheeks, and those dear rosy lips!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Alfred, do not speak so—do not clasp me thus. Let us go. It is + late—very late, and what will they say?” + </p> + <p> + “Let them say! Are we not blessed? Can all their words take from us these + blessings—these sacred, sweet, moments—such joys, such + delights? Let them dream of such, with their dull souls if they can. No! + no! Margaret—we are one! and thus one, our world is as free from + their control as it is superior to their dreams and hopes. Here is our + heaven, Margaret—ah! how long shall it be ours! at what moment may + we lose it, by death, by storm, by what various mischance! What profligacy + to fly before the time! No! no! but a little while longer—but a + little while!” + </p> + <p> + And there they lingered! He, fond, artful, persuasive; she, trembling with + the dangerous sweetness of wild, unbidden emotions. Ah! why did she not + go? Why was the strength withheld which would have carried out her safer + purpose? The moon rose until she hung in the zenith, seeming to linger + there in a sad, sweet watch, like themselves—the rivulet ran along, + still prattling through the groves; the breeze, which had been a soft + murmur among the trees at the first rising of the moon, now blew a shrill + whistle among the craggy hills; but they no longer heard the prattle of + the rivulet—even the louder strains of the breeze were unnoticed, + and it was only when they were about to depart, that poor Margaret + discovered that the moon had all the while been looking down upon them. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII. — THE BIRTH OF THE AGONY. + </h2> + <p> + It was now generally understood in Charlemont that Margaret Cooper had + made a conquest of the handsome stranger. We have omitted—as a + matter not congenial to our taste—the small by-play which had been + carried on by the other damsels of the village to effect the same object. + There had been setting of caps, without number, ay, and pulling them too, + an the truth were known among the fair Stellas and Clarissas, the Daphnes + and Dorises, of Charlemont, but, though Stevens was sufficiently + considerate of the claims of each, so far as politeness demanded it, and + contrived to say pleasant things, pour passer le temps, with all of them, + it was very soon apparent to the most sanguine, that the imperial beauties + and imperious mind of Margaret Cooper had secured the conquest for + herself. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of course, the personal and intellectual attractions of + Stevens underwent no little disparagement as soon as this fact was known. + It was now universally understood that he was no such great things, after + all; and our fair friend the widow Thackeray, who was not without her + pretensions to wit and beauty, was bold enough to say that Mr. Stevens was + certainly too fat in the face, and she rather thought him stupid. Such an + opinion gave courage to the rest, and pert Miss Bella Tompkins, a romp of + first-rate excellence, had the audacity to say that he squinted!—and + this opinion was very natural, since neither of his eyes had ever rested + with satisfaction on her pouting charms. + </p> + <p> + It may be supposed that the discontent of the fair bevy, and its + unfavorable judgment of himself, did not reach the ears of Alfred Stevens, + and would scarcely have disturbed them if it did. Margaret Cooper was more + fortunate than himself in this respect. She could not altogether be + insensible to the random remarks which sour envy and dark-eyed jealousy + continued to let fall in her hearing; but her scorn for the speakers, and + her satisfaction with herself, secured her from all annoyance from this + cause. Such, at least, had been the case in the first days of her + conquest. Such was not exactly the case now. She had no more scorn of + others. She was no longer proud, no longer strong. Her eyes no longer + flashed with haughty defiance on the train which, though envious, were yet + compelled to follow. She could no longer speak in those superior tones, + the language equally of a proud intellect, and a spirit whose + sensibilities had neither been touched by love nor enfeebled by anxiety + and apprehension. A sad change had come over her heart and all her + features in the progress of a few days. Her courage had departed. Her step + was no longer firm; her eye no longer uplifted like that of the + mountain-eagle, to which, in the first darings of her youthful muse, she + had boldly likened herself. Her look was downcast, her voice subdued; she + was now not less timid than the feeblest damsel of the village in that + doubtful period of life when, passing from childhood to girlhood, the + virgin falters, as it were, with bashful thoughts, upon the threshold of a + new and perilous condition. The intercourse of Margaret Cooper with her + lover had had the most serious effect upon her manners and her looks. But + the change upon her spirit was no less striking to all. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure if I did love any man,” was the opinion of one of the damsels, + “I'd die sooner than show it to him, as she shows it to Alfred Stevens. + It's a guess what he must think of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And no hard guess neither,” said another; “I reckon there's no reason why + he should pick out Margaret Cooper except that he saw that it was no such + easy matter any where else.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! there can be no mistake about it with them; for now they're always + together—and Betty, her own maid, thinks—but it's better not + to say!” + </p> + <p> + And the prudent antique pursed up her mouth in a language that said + everything. + </p> + <p> + “What!—what does she say?” demanded a dozen voices. + </p> + <p> + “Well! I won't tell you that. I won't tell you all; but she does say, + among other things, that the sooner John Cross marries them, the better + for all parties.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible!” + </p> + <p> + “Can it be!” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! but I always thought something wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “And Betty, her own maid, told you? Well, who should know, if she don't?” + </p> + <p> + “And this, too, after all her airs!” + </p> + <p> + “Her great smartness, her learning, and verse-making! I never knew any + good come from books yet.” + </p> + <p> + “And never will, Jane,” said another, with an equivocal expression, with + which Jane was made content; and, after a full half-hour's confabulation, + in the primitive style, the parties separated—each, in her way, to + give as much circulation to Betty's inuendoes as the importance of the + affair deserved. + </p> + <p> + Scandal travels along the highways, seen by all but the victim. Days and + nights passed; and in the solitude of lonely paths, by the hillside or the + rivulet, Margaret Cooper still wandered with her lover. She heard not the + poisonous breath which was already busy with her virgin fame. She had no + doubts, whatever might be the event, that the heart of Alfred Stevens + could leave her without that aliment which, in these blissful moments, + seemed to be her very breath of life. But she felt many fears, many + misgivings, she knew not why. A doubt, a cloud of anxiety, hung brooding + on the atmosphere. In a heart which is unsophisticated, the consciousness, + however vague, that all is not right, is enough to produce this cloud; + but, with the gradual progress of that heart to the indulgence of the more + active passions, this consciousness necessarily increases and the conflict + then begins between the invading passion and the guardian principle. We + have seen enough to know what must be the result of such a conflict with a + nature such as hers, under the education which she had received. It did + not end in the expulsion of her lover. It did not end in the + discontinuance of those long and frequent rambles amid silence, and + solitude, and shadow. She had not courage for this; and the poor, vain + mother, flattered with the idea that her son-in-law would be a preacher, + beheld nothing wrong in their nightly wanderings, and suffered her + daughter, in such saintly society, to go forth without restraint or + rebuke. + </p> + <p> + There was one person in the village who was not satisfied that Margaret + Cooper should fall a victim, either to the cunning of another, or to her + own passionate vanity. This was our old friend Calvert. He was rather, + inclined to be interested in the damsel, in spite of the ill treatment of + his protege, if it were only in consequence of the feelings with which she + had inspired him. It has been seen that, in the affair of the duel, he was + led to regard the stranger with an eye of suspicion. This feeling had been + further heightened by the statements of Ned Hinkley, which, however loose + and inconclusive, were yet of a kind to show that there was some mystery + about Stevens—that he desired concealment in some respects—a + fact very strongly inferred from his non-employment of the village + postoffice, and the supposition—taken for true—that he + employed that of some distant town. Ned Hinkley had almost arrived at + certainty in this respect; and some small particulars which seemed to bear + on this conviction, which he had recently gathered, taken in connection + with the village scandal in reference to the parties, determined the old + man to take some steps in the matter to forewarn the maiden, or at least + her mother, of the danger of yielding too much confidence to one of whom + so little was or could be known. + </p> + <p> + It was a pleasant afternoon, and Calvert was sitting beneath his + roof-tree, musing over this very matter, when he caught a glimpse of the + persons of whom he thought, ascending one of the distant hills, apparently + on their way to the lake. He rose up instantly, and, seizing his staff, + hurried off to see the mother of the damsel. The matter was one of the + nicest delicacy—not to be undertaken lightly—not to be urged + incautiously. Nothing, indeed, but a strong sense of duty could have + determined him upon a proceeding likely to appear invidious, and which + might be so readily construed, by a foolish woman, into an impertinence. + Though a man naturally of quick, warm feelings, Calvert had been early + taught to think cautiously—indeed, the modern phrenologist would + have said that, in the excess of this prudent organ lay the grand weakness + of his moral nature. This delayed him in the contemplated performance much + longer than his sense of its necessity seemed to justify. Having now + resolved, however, and secure in the propriety of his object, he did not + scruple any longer. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes sufficed to bring him to the cottage of the old lady, and + her voice in very friendly tenor commanded him to enter. Without useless + circumlocution, yet without bluntness, the old man broached the subject; + and, without urging any of the isolated facts of which he was possessed, + and by which his suspicions were awakened, he dwelt simply upon the + dangers which might result from such a degree of confidence as was given + to the stranger. The long, lonely rambles in the woods, by night as well + as day, were commented on, justly, but in an indulgent spirit; and the + risks of a young and unsuspecting maiden, under such circumstances, were + shown with sufficient distinctness for the comprehension of the mother, + had she been disposed to hear. But never was good old man, engaged in the + thankless office of bestowing good advice, so completely confounded as he + was by the sort of acknowledgments which his interference obtained. A keen + observer might have seen the gathering storm while he was speaking; and, + at every sentence, there was a low, running commentary, bubbling up from + the throat of the opinionated dame, somewhat like rumbling thunder, which + amply denoted the rising tempest. It was a sort of religious effort which + kept the old lady quiet till Calvert had fairly reached a conclusion. + Then, rising from her seat, she approached him, smoothed back her apron, + perked out her chin, and, fixing her keen gray eyes firmly upon his own, + with her nose elongated to such a degree as almost to suggest the + possibility of a pointed collision between that member and the + corresponding one of his own face, she demanded— + </p> + <p> + “Have you done—have you got through?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mrs. Cooper, this is all I came to say. It is the suggestion of + prudence—the caution of a friend—your daughter is young, very + young, and—” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you! I thank you! My daughter is young, very young; but she is no + fool, Mr. Calvert—let me tell you that! Margaret Cooper is no fool. + If you don't know that, I do. I know her. She's able to take care of + herself as well as the best of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you think so, Mrs. Cooper, but the best of us find it a + difficult matter to steer clear of danger, and error and misfortune; and + the wisest, my dear madam, are only too apt to fall when they place their + chief reliance on their wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! that's a new doctrine to me, and I reckon to everybody else. If + it's true, what's the use of all your schooling, I want to know?” + </p> + <p> + “Precious little, Mrs. Cooper, if—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! precious little; and let me tell you, Mr. Calvert, I think it's + mighty strange that you should think Margaret Cooper in more need of your + advice, than Jane Colter, or Betsy Barnes, or Susan Mason, or Rebecca + Forbes, or even the widow Thackeray.” + </p> + <p> + “I should give the same advice to them under the same circumstances, Mrs. + Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “Should you, indeed! Then I beg you will go and give it to them, for if + they are not in the same circumstances now, they'd give each of them an + eye to be so. Ay, wouldn't they! Yes! don't I know, Mr. Calvert, that it's + all owing to envy that you come here talking about Brother Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “But I do not speak of Mr. Stevens, Mrs. Cooper; were it any other young + man with whom your daughter had such intimacy I should speak in the same + manner.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you, indeed? Tell that to the potatoes. Don't I know better. Don't + I know that if your favorite, that you made so much of—your adopted + son, Bill Hinkley—if he could have got her to look at him, they + might have walked all night and you'd never have said the first word. He'd + have given one eye for her, and so would every girl in the village give an + eye for Brother Stevens. I'm not so old but I know something. But it won't + do. You can go to the widow Thackeray, Mr. Calvert. It'll do her good to + tell her that it's very dangerous for her to be thinking about young men + from morning to night. It's true you can't say anything about the danger, + for precious little danger she's in; but, lord, wouldn't she jump to it if + she had a chance. Let her alone for that. You'd soon have cause enough to + give her your good advice about the danger, and much good would come of + it. She'd wish, after all was said, that the danger was only twice as big + and twice as dangerous.” + </p> + <p> + Such was the conclusion of Mr. Calvert's attempt to give good counsel. It + resulted as unprofitably in this as in most cases; but it had not utterly + fallen, like the wasted seed, in stony places. There was something in it + to impress itself upon the memory of Mrs. Cooper; and she resolved that + when her daughter came in, it should be the occasion of an examination + into her feelings and her relation to the worthy brother, such as she had + more than once before meditated to make. + </p> + <p> + But Margaret Cooper did not return till a comparatively late hour; and the + necessity of sitting up after her usual time of retiring, by making the + old lady irritable, had the effect of giving some additional force to the + suggestions of Mr. Calvert. When Margaret did return, she came alone. + Stevens had attended her only to the wicket. She did not expect to find + her mother still sitting up; and started, with an appearance of disquiet, + when she met her glance. The young girl was pale and haggard. Her eye had + a dilated, wild expression. Her step faltered; her voice was scarcely + distinct as she remarked timidly— + </p> + <p> + “Not yet abed, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “No! it's a pretty time for you to keep me up.” + </p> + <p> + “But why did you sit up, mother? It's not usual with you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “No! but it's high time for me to sit up, and be on the watch too, when + here's the neighbors coming to warn me to do so—and telling me all + about your danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! my danger—speak—what danger, mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you know what danger? Don't you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Know!” The monosyllable subsided in a gasp. At that moment Margaret + Cooper could say no more. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I suppose you don't know, and so I'll tell you. Here's been that + conceited, stupid old man, Calvert, to tell me how wrong it is for you to + go out by night walking with Brother Stevens; and hinting to me that you + don't know how to take care of yourself with all your learning; and how + nobody knows anything about Brother Stevens; as if nobody was wise for + anything but himself. But I gave him as good as he brought, I'll warrant + you. I sent him off with a flea in his ear!” + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate for the poor girl that the light, which was that of a + dipped candle, was burning in the corner of the chimney, and was too dim + to make her features visible. The ghastly tale which they told could not + have been utterly unread even by the obtuse and opinionated mind of the + vain mother. The hands of Margaret were involuntarily clasped in her + agony, and she felt very much like falling upon the floor; but, with a + strong effort, her nerves were braced to the right tension, and she + continued to endure, in a speechless terror, which was little short of + frenzy, the outpourings of her mother's folly which was a frenzy of + another sort. + </p> + <p> + “I sent him off,” she repeated, “with a flea in his ear. I could see what + the old fool was driving after, and I as good as told him so. If it had + been his favorite, his adopted son, Bill Hinkley, it would have been + another guess-story—I reckon. Then you might have walked out where + you pleased together, at all hours, and no harm done, no danger; old + Calvert would have thought it the properest thing in the world. But no + Bill Hinkley for me. I'm for Brother Stevens, Margaret; only make sure of + him, my child—make sure of him.” + </p> + <p> + “No more of this, dear mother, I entreat you. Let us go to bed, and think + no more of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And why should we not think of it? I tell you, Margaret, YOU MUST THINK + OF IT! Brother Stevens soon will be a preacher, and a fine speck he will + be. There'll be no parson like him in all west Kentucky. As for John + Cross, I reckon he won't be able to hold a candle to him. Brother Stevens + is something to try for. You must play your cards nicely, Margaret. Don't + let him see too soon that you like him. Beware of that! But don't draw off + too suddenly as if you didn't like him—that's worse still; for very + few men like to see that they ain't altogether pleasing even at first + sight to the lady that they like. There's a medium in all things, and you + must just manage it, as if you wa'n't thinking at all about him, or love, + or a husband, or anything; only take care always to turn a quick ear to + what he says, and seem to consider it always as if 'twas worth your + considering. And look round when he speaks, and smile softly sometimes; + and don't be too full of learning and wisdom in what you say, for I've + found that men of sense love women best when they seem to talk most like + very young children—maybe because they think it's a sign of + innocence. But I reckon, Margaret, you don't want much teaching. Only be + sure and fix him; and don't stop to think when he asks. Be sure to have + your answer ready, and you can't say 'yes' too quickly now-a-days, when + the chances are so very few.” + </p> + <p> + The mother paused to take breath. Her very moral and maternal counsel had + fallen upon unheeding ears. But Margaret was sensible of the pause, and + was desirous of taking advantage of it. She rose from her chair, with the + view of retiring; but the good old dame, whose imagination had been + terribly excited by the delightful idea of having a preacher for her + son-in-law who was to take such precedence over all the leaders of the + other tribes, was not willing to abridge her eloquence. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you're in a great hurry now, Margaret. Where was your hurry when you + were with Brother Stevens? Ah! you jade, can't I guess—don't I know? + There you were, you two, under the trees, looking at the moon, and talking + such sweet, foolish nonsense. I reckon, Margaret, 'twould puzzle you to + tell what HE said, or what YOU said, I can guess he didn't talk much + religion to you, heh? Ah! I know it all. It's the old story. It's been so + with all young people, and will be so till the end. Love is the strangest + thing, and it does listen to the strangest nonsense. Ain't it so, + Margaret? I know nothing but love would ever dumbfounder you in this way; + why, child, have you lost your tongue? What's the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, let me retire now, I have such a headache.” + </p> + <p> + “Heartache, you mean.” + </p> + <p> + “Heartache it is,” replied the other desperately, with an air of complete + abandonment. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, it's clear that he's got the heartache quite as much as you, + for he almost lives with you now. But make him speak out, Margaret—get + him to say the word, and don't let him be too free until he does. No + squeezing of hands, no kissing, no—” + </p> + <p> + “No more, no more, I entreat you, mother, if you would not—drive me + mad! Why do you speak to me thus—why counsel me in this manner? + Leave me alone, I pray you, let me retire—I must—I must sleep + now!” + </p> + <p> + The mother was not unaccustomed to such passionate bursts of speech from + her daughter, and she ascribed the startling energy of her utterance now, + to an excited spirit in part, and partly to the headache of which she + complained. + </p> + <p> + “What! do you feel so bad, my child? Well, I won't keep you up any longer. + I wouldn't have kept you up so long, if I hadn't been vexed by that old + fool, Calvert.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Calvert is a good man, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he may be—I don't say a word against that,” replied the + mother, somewhat surprised at the mildly reproachful nature of that + response which her daughter had made, so different from her usual custom:—“he + may be very good, but I think he's very meddlesome to come here talking + about Brother Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + “He meant well, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “Well or ill, it don't matter. Do you be ready when Brother Stevens says + the word. He'll say it before long. He's mighty keen after you, Margaret. + I've seen it in his eyes; only you keep a little off, till he begins to + press and be anxious; and after that he can't help himself. He'll be ready + for any terms; and look you, when a man's ready none of your long + bargains. Settle up at once. As for waiting till he gets permission to + preach, I wouldn't think of it. A man can be made a preacher or anything, + at any time, but 'tain't so easy in these times, for a young woman to be + made a wife. It's not every day that one can get a husband, and such a + husband! Look at Jane Colter, and Betsy Barnes, and Rebecca Forbes, and + Susan Mason; they'll be green again, I reckon, before the chance comes to + them; ay, and the widow Thackeray—though she's had her day already. + If 'twas a short one she's got no reason to complain. She'll learn how to + value it before it begins again. But, go to bed, my child, you oughtn't to + have a headache. No! no! you should leave it to them that's not so + fortunate. They'll have headaches and heartaches enough, I warrant you, + before they get such a man as Brother Stevens.” + </p> + <p> + At last, Margaret Cooper found herself alone and in her chamber. With + unusual vigilance she locked and doublelocked the door. She then flung + herself upon the bed. Her face was buried in the clothes. A convulsion of + feeling shook her frame. But her eyes remained dry, and her cheeks were + burning. She rose at length and began to undress, but for this she found + herself unequal. She entered the couch and sat up in it—her hands + crossed upon her lap—her face wan, wild, the very picture of + hopelessness if not desperation! The words of her weak mother had tortured + her; but what was this agony to that which was occasioned by her own + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Oh God!” she exclaimed at length, “can it be real? Can it be true? Do I + wake? Is it no dream? Am I, am I what I dare not name to myself—and + dread to hear from any other? Alas! it is true—too true. That shade, + that wood!—oh, Alfred Stevens! Alfred Stevens! What have you done! + To what have you beguiled me!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII. — STRENGTH AFTER FALL. + </h2> + <p> + That weary night no sleep came to the eyelids of the hapless Margaret + Cooper. The garrulous language of the mother had awakened far other + emotions in her bosom than those which she labored to inspire; and the + warning of Mr. Calvert, for the first time impressed upon herself the + terrible conviction that she was lost. In the wild intoxicating pleasures + of that new strange dream, she had been wofully unconscious of the truth. + So gradual had been the progress of passion, that it had never alarmed or + startled her. Besides, it had come to her under a disguise afforded by the + customary cravings of her soul. Her vanity had been the medium by which + her affections had been won, by which her confidence had been beguiled, by + which the guardian watchers of her virtue had been laid to sleep. + </p> + <p> + What a long and dreadful night was that when Margaret Cooper was first + brought to feel the awful truth in its true impressiveness of wo. Alas! + how terribly do the pleasures of sin torture us. The worst human foe is + guilt. The severest censure the consciousness of wrong doing. Poverty may + be endured—nay is—and virtue still be secure; since the mind + may be made strong to endure the heaviest toil, yet cherish few desires; + the loss of kin may call for few regrets, if we feel that we have + religiously performed our duties toward them, and requited all their + proper claims upon us. Sickness and pain may even prove benefits and + blessings, if it shall so happen that we resign ourselves without + complaint, to the scourge of the chastener, and grow patient beneath his + stripes. But that self-rebuke of one's own spirit from which we may not + fly—that remorseful and ever-vexing presence which haunts us, and + pursues with a wing even more fleet than that of fear—which tells + clamorously of what we had, and scornfully of what we have lost—lost + for ever! that is the demon from whom there is no escape, and beyond whom + there is no torture. Vainly would we strive with this relentless enemy. + Every blow aimed at its shadowy bosom recoils upon our own. In the crowd, + it takes the place of other forms and dogs us with suspicious glances; in + the solitude, it stalks boldly to our side, confronts us with its + audacious truths and terrible denunciations—leaves no moment secure, + waking or sleeping! It is the ghost of murdered virtue, brooding over its + grave in that most dark and dismal of all sepulchres, the human heart. And + if we cry aloud, as did Margaret Cooper, with vain prayer for the recall + of a single day, with what a yell of derisive mockery it answers to our + prayer. + </p> + <p> + The night was passed in the delusive effort of the mind to argue itself + into a state of fancied security. She endeavored to recall those + characteristics in Alfred Stevens, by which her confidence had been + beguiled. This task was not a difficult one in that early day of her + distress; before experience had yet come to confirm the apprehensions of + doubt—before the intoxicating dream of a first passion had yet begun + to stale upon her imagination. Her own elastic mind helped her in this + endeavor. Surely, she thought, where the mind is so noble and expansive, + where the feelings are so tender and devoted, the features so lofty and + impressive, the look so sweet, the language so delicate and refined, there + can be no falsehood. + </p> + <p> + “The devotion of such a man,” she erringly thought, “might well sanction + the weakness of a woman's heart—might well persuade to the momentary + error which none will seek more readily to repair than himself. If he be + true to me, what indeed should I care for the scorn of others.” + </p> + <p> + Alas! for the credulous victim. This was the soul of her error. This scorn + of others—of the opinions of the world around her, is the saddest + error of which woman, who is the most dependant of all beings in the moral + world, can ever be guilty. But such philosophy did not now deceive even + the poor girl by whom it was uttered. It is a melancholy truth, that, + where there is no principle, the passions can not be relied on; and the + love of Alfred Stevens had hitherto shown itself in selfishness. Margaret + Cooper felt this, but she did not dare to believe it. + </p> + <p> + “No! no!” she muttered—“I will not doubt—I will not fear! He + is too noble, too generous, too fond! I could not be deceived.” + </p> + <p> + Her reliance was upon her previous judgment, not upon his principles. Her + self-esteem assisted to make this reference sufficient for the purposes of + consolation, and this was all that she desired in this first moment of her + doubt and apprehension. + </p> + <p> + “And if he be true—if he keep for ever the faith that his lips and + looks declare—then will I heed nothing of the shame and the sin. The + love of such a man is sufficient recompense for the loss of all besides. + What to me is the loss of society? what should I care for the association + and opinions of these in Charlemont? And elsewhere—he will bear me + hence where none can know. Ah! I fear not: he will be true.” + </p> + <p> + Her self-esteem was recovering considerably from its first overthrow. Her + mind was already preparing to do battle with those, the scorn of whom she + anticipated, and whose judgments she had always hitherto despised. This + was an easy task. She was yet to find that it was not the only task. Her + thoughts are those of many, in like situations, and it is for this reason + that we dwell upon them. Our purpose is, to show the usual processes of + self-deception. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper, like a large class of persons of strong natural mind and + sanguine temper, was only too apt to confound the cause of virtue with its + sometimes uncouth, harsh and self-appointed professors. She overlooked the + fact that public opinion, though a moral object against which woman dares + not often offend, is yet no standard for her government; that principles + are determinable elsewhere; and that, whatever the world may think of + them, and whatever may be their seeming unimportance under existing + circumstances, are the only real moral securities of earth. She might fly + from Charlemont, either into a greater world, or into a more complete + solitude, but she would fly to no greater certainties than she now + possessed. Her securities were still based upon the principles of Alfred + Stevens, and of these she knew nothing. She knew that he was a man of + talent—of eloquence; alas for her! she had felt it; of skill—she + had been its victim; of rare sweetness of utterance, of grace and beauty; + and as she enumerated to herself these his mental powers and personal + charms, she felt, however numerous the catalogue, that none of these + afforded her the guaranty she sought. + </p> + <p> + She arose the next day somewhat more composed, and with a face which + betrayed sleeplessness, but nothing worse. This she ascribed to the + headache with which she had retired. She had not slept an instant, and she + arose entirely unrefreshed. But the stimulating thoughts which had kept + her wakeful, furnished her with sufficient strength to appear as usual in + the household, and to go through her accustomed duties. But it was with an + impatience scarcely restrainable that she waited for the approach of + evening which would bring her lover. Him she felt it now absolutely of the + last necessity that she should see; that she should once more go with him + to those secret places, the very thought of which inspired her with + terror, and, laying bare her soul to his eyes, demand of him the only + restitution which he could make. + </p> + <p> + He came. Once more she descended the steps to meet him—Her mother + arrested her on the stairway. A cunning leer was in her eye, as she looked + into the woful, impassive eyes of her daughter. She grinned with a sort of + delight expressive of the conviction that the advice she had given the + night before was to be put in execution soon. + </p> + <p> + “Fix him, Margaret; he's mighty eager for you. You've cut your eye-tooth—be + quick, and you'll have a famous parson for a husband yet.” + </p> + <p> + The girl shrunk from the counsellor as if she had been a serpent. The very + counsel was enough to show her the humiliating attitude in which she stood + to all parties. + </p> + <p> + “Remember,” said the old woman, detaining her—“don't be too willing + at first. Let him speak fairly out. A young maiden can't be too backward, + until the man offers to make her a young wife!” + </p> + <p> + The last words went to her soul like an arrow. + </p> + <p> + “A young maiden!” she almost murmured aloud, as she descended the steps—“O + God! how lovely now, to my eyes, appears the loveliness of a young + maiden!” + </p> + <p> + She joined Stevens in silence, the mother watching them with the eyes of a + maternal hawk as they went forth together. They pursued a customary route, + and, passing through one of the gorges of the surrounding hills, they soon + lost sight of the village. When the forest-shadows had gathered thickly + around them, and the silence of the woods became felt, Stevens approached + more nearly, and, renewing a former liberty, put his arm about her waist. + She gently but firmly removed it, but neither of them spoke a word. A + dense copse appeared before them. Toward it he would have led the way. But + she resolutely turned aside, and, while a shudder passed over her frame, + exclaimed— + </p> + <p> + “Not there—not there!” + </p> + <p> + Breathlessly she spoke. He well enough understood her. They pursued an + opposite direction, and, in the shade of a wood which before they had + never traversed, they at length paused. Stevens, conducting her to the + trunk of a fallen tree, seated her, and placed himself beside her. Still + they were silent. There was a visible constraint upon both. The thoughts + and feelings of both were alike active—but very unlike in character. + With him, passion, reckless passion, was uppermost; selfish in all its + phases, and resolute on its own indulgence at every hazard. In her bosom + was regret if not remorse, mingled with doubts and hopes in pretty equal + proportion. Yet had she, even then, but little doubt of him. She accused + him of no practice. She fancied, foolish girl, that his error, like her + own, had been that of blind impulse, availing itself of a moment of + unguarded reason to take temporary possession of the citadel of prudence. + That he was calculating, cunning—that his snares had been laid + beforehand—she had not the least idea. But she was to grow wiser in + this and other respects in due season. How little did she then conjecture + the coldness and hardness of that base and selfish heart which had so + fanned the consuming flame in hers! + </p> + <p> + Her reserve and coolness were unusual. She had been the creature, + heretofore, of the most uncalculating impulse. The feeling was spoken, the + thought uttered, as soon as conceived. Now she was silent. He expected her + to speak—nay, he expected reproaches, and was prepared to meet them. + He had his answer for any reproaches which she might make. But for that + stony silence of her lips he was not prepared. The passive grief which her + countenance betrayed—so like despair—repelled and annoyed him. + Yet, wherefore had she come, if not to complain bitterly, and, after + exhaustion, be soothed at last? Such had been his usual experience in all + such cases. But the unsophisticated woman before him had no language for + such a situation as was hers. Her pride, her ambition—the very + intensity of all her moods—rendered the effort at speech a mockery, + and left her dumb. + </p> + <p> + “You are sad, Margaret—silent and very cold to me,” he said, at last + breaking the silence. His tones were subdued to a whisper, and how full of + entreating tenderness! She slowly raised her eyes from the ground, and + fixed them upon him. What a speech was in that one look! There was no + trace of excitement, scarcely of expression, in her face. There was no + flush upon her cheeks. She was pale as death. She was still silent. Her + eye alone had spoken; and from its searching but stony glance his own fell + in some confusion to the ground. There was a dreary pause, which he at + length broke:— + </p> + <p> + “You are still silent, Margaret—why do you not speak to me?” + </p> + <p> + “It is for you to speak, Alfred,” was her reply. It was full of + significance, understood but not FELT by her companion. What, indeed, had + she to say—what could she say—while he said nothing? She was + the victim. With him lay the means of rescue and preservation. She but + waited the decision of one whom, in her momentary madness, she had made + the arbiter of her destiny. Her reply confused him. He would have + preferred to listen to the ordinary language of reproach. Had she burst + forth into tears and lamentations—had she cried, “You have wronged + me—you must do me justice!”—he would have been better pleased + than with the stern, unsuggestive character that she assumed. To all this, + his old experience would have given him an easy answer. But to be driven + to condemn himself—to define his own doings with the name due to his + deserts—to declare his crime, and proffer the sufficient atonement—was + an unlooked-for necessity. + </p> + <p> + “You are displeased with me, Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + He dared not meet her glance while uttering this feeble and purposeless + remark. It was so short of all that he should have said—of all that + she expected—that her eyes glistened with a sudden expression of + indignation which was new to them in looking upon him. There was a + glittering sarcasm in her glance, which showed the intensity of her + feelings in the comment which they involuntarily made on the baldness and + poverty of his. Displeasure, indeed! That such an epithet should be + employed to describe the withering pang, the vulturous, gnawing torture in + her bosom—and that fiery fang which thought, like some winged + serpent, was momentarily darting into her brain! + </p> + <p> + “Displeased!” she exclaimed, in low, bitter tones, which she seemed rather + desirous to suppress—“no, no! sir—not displeased. I am + miserable, most miserable—anything but displeased. I am too wretched + to feel displeasure!” + </p> + <p> + “And to me you owe this wretchedness, dear Margaret—THAT—THAT + is what you would say. Is it not, Margaret? I have wronged—I have + ruined you! From me comes this misery! You hate, you would denounce me.” + </p> + <p> + He put his arm about her waist—he sank upon his knee beside her—his + eye, now that he had found words, could once more look courageously into + hers. + </p> + <p> + “Wronged—ruined!” she murmured, using a part of his words, and + repeating them as if she did not altogether realize their perfect sense. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, you would accuse me, Margaret,” he continued—“you would + reproach and denounce me—you hate me—I deserve it—I + deserve it.” + </p> + <p> + She answered with some surprise:— + </p> + <p> + “No, Alfred Stevens, I do not accuse—I do not denounce you. I am + wretched—I am miserable. It is for you to say if I am wronged and + ruined. I am not what I was—I know THAT!—What I am—what + I will be!—” + </p> + <p> + She paused! Her hands were clasped suddenly and violently—she looked + to heaven, and, for the first time, the tears, streamed from her eyes like + rain—a sudden, heavy shower, which was soon over. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Margaret, you would have me accuse myself—and I do. The crime + is mine! I have done you this wrong—-” + </p> + <p> + She interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + “No, Alfred Stevens, <i>I</i> have done wrong! I FEEL that I have done + wrong. That I have been feeble and criminal, <i>I</i> KNOW. I will not be + so base as to deny what I can not but feel. As for your crime, you know + best what it is. I know mine. I know that my passions are evil and + presumptuous; and though I blush to confess their force, it is yet due to + the truth that I should do so, though I sink into the earth with my shame. + But neither your self-reproaches nor my confession will acquit us. Is + there nothing, Alfred Stevens, that can be done? Must I fall before you, + here, amidst the woods which have witnessed my shame, and implore you to + save me? I do! Behold me! I am at your feet—my face is in the dust. + Oh! Alfred Stevens—when I called your eyes to watch, in the day of + my pride, the strong-winged eagle of our hills, did I look as now? Save me + from this shame! save me! For, though I have no reproaches, yet God knows, + when we looked on that eagle's flight together, my soul had no such taint + as fills it now. Whatever were my faults, my follies, my weaknesses, + Heaven knows, I felt not, feared not this! a thought—a dream of such + a passion, then—never came to my bosom. From you it came! You put it + there! You woke up the slumbering emotion—you—but no!—I + will not accuse you! I will only implore you to save me! Can it be done? + can you do it—will you—will you not?” + </p> + <p> + “Rise, dearest Margaret—let me lift you!” She had thrown herself + upon the earth, and she clung to it. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! your words may lift me, Alfred Stevens, when your hands can not. + If you speak a hope, a promise of safety, it will need no other help to + make me rise! If you do not!—I would not wish to rise again. Speak! + let me hear, even as I am, what my doom shall be? The pride which has made + me fall shall be reconciled to my abasement.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret, this despair is idle. There is no need for it. Do I not tell + you that there is no danger?” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you speak of ruin?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “I know not—the word escaped me. There is no ruin. I will save you. + I am yours—yours only. Believe me, I will do you right. I regard you + as sacredly my wife as if the rites of the church had so decreed it.” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not disbelieve you, Alfred! I have no hope else. Your words lift + me! Oh! Alfred Stevens, you did not mean the word, but how true it was; + what a wreck, what a ruin do I feel myself now—what a wreck have I + become!” + </p> + <p> + “A wreck, a ruin! no, Margaret, no! never were you more beautiful than at + this very moment. These large, sad eyes—these long, dark lashes seem + intended to bear the weight of tears. These cheeks are something paler + than their wont, but not less beautiful, and these lips—” + </p> + <p> + He would have pressed them with his own—he would have taken her into + his arms, but she repulsed him. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Alfred—this must not be. I am yours. Let me prove to you + that I am firm enough to protect your rights from invasion.” + </p> + <p> + “But why so coy, dearest? Do you doubt me?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but you do. Why do you shrink from me—why this coldness? If you + are mine, if these charms are mine, why not yield them to me? I fear, + Margaret, that you doubt me still?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not—dare not doubt you, Alfred Stevens. My life hangs upon + this faith.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so cold, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not cold. I love you—I will be your wife; and never was wife + more faithful, more devoted, than I will be to you; but, if you knew the + dreadful agony which I have felt, since that sad moment of my weakness, + you would forbear and pity me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear me, Margaret; to-morrow is Saturday. John Cross is to be here in the + evening. He shall marry us on Sunday. Are you willing?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes! thankful, happy! Ah! Alfred, why did I distrust you for an + instant?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed! But you distrust me no longer—you have no more + misgivings?” + </p> + <p> + “No, none!” + </p> + <p> + “You will be no longer cold, no longer coy, dear Margaret—here in + the sweet evening, among these pleasant shades, love, alone, has + supremacy. Here, in the words of one of your favorites:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “'Where transport and security entwine, + Here is the empire of thy perfect bliss, + And here thou art a god—'” + </pre> + <p> + concluding this quotation, he would have taken her in his embrace—he + would have renewed those dangerous endearments which had already proved so + fatal; but she repulsed the offered tenderness, firmly, but with + gentleness. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret, you still doubt me,” he exclaimed reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “No, Alfred, I doubt you not. I believe you. I have only been too ready + and willing to believe you. Ah! have you not had sufficient proof of this? + Leave me the consciousness of virtue—the feeling of strength still + to assert it, now that my eyes are open to my previous weakness.” + </p> + <p> + “But there is no reason to be so cold. Remember you are mine by every tie + of the heart—another day will make you wholly mine. Surely, there is + no need for this frigid bearing. No, no! you doubt—you do not + believe me, Margaret!” + </p> + <p> + “If I did not believe you, Alfred Stevens,” she answered gravely, “my + prayer would be for death, and I should find it. These woods which have + witnessed my fault should have witnessed my expiation. The homes which + have known me should know me no more.” + </p> + <p> + The solemnity of her manner rather impressed him, but having no real + regard for her, he was unwilling to be baffled in his true desires. + </p> + <p> + “If you doubt me not—if you have faith in me, Margaret, why this + solemnity, this reserve? Prove to me, by your looks, by your actions, by + the dear glances, the sweet murmurs, and the fond embrace, what these cold + assurances do not say.” + </p> + <p> + His hand rested on her neck. She gently raised and removed it. + </p> + <p> + “I have already proved to you my weakness. I will now prove my strength. + It is better so, Alfred. If I have won your love, let me now command your + esteem, or maintain what is left me of my own. Do not be angry with me if + I insist upon it. I am resolute now to be worthy of you and of myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you call this love?” said he bitterly. “If you ever loved, indeed, + Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “If I ever loved—and have I given you no proofs?” she exclaimed in a + burst of passion; “all the proofs that a woman can give, short of her + blood; and that, Alfred Stevens—that too, I was prepared to give, + had you not promptly assured me of your faith.” + </p> + <p> + She drew a small dagger from her sleeve, and bared it beneath his glance. + </p> + <p> + “Think you I brought this without an object? No! Alfred Stevens—know + me better! I came here prepared to die, as well as a frail and erring + woman could be prepared. You disarmed the dagger. You subdued the + determination when you bid me live for you. In your faith, I am willing to + live. I believe you, and am resolved to make myself worthy of your belief + also. I have promised to be your wife, and here before Heaven, I swear to + be your faithful wife; but, until then, you shall presume in no respect. + Your lip shall not touch mine; your arms shall not embrace me; you shall + see, dear Alfred, that, with my eyes once opened fully upon my own + weakness, I have acquired the most certain strength.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the dagger,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “You doubt me still?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” she exclaimed, handing him the weapon—“no, no! I do not + doubt you—I dare not. Doubt you, Alfred?—that were death, even + without the dagger!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX. — BULL-PUPS IN TRAINING. + </h2> + <p> + Alfred Stevens was sufficiently familiar with the sex to perceive that + Margaret Cooper was resolved. There was that in her look and manner which + convinced him that she was not now to be overcome. There was no effort or + constraint in either her looks or language. The composure of assured + strength was there. The discovery of her weakness, which he had so + unexpectedly made, had rendered her vigilant. Suspecting herself—which + women are not apt to do—she became watchful, not only of the + approach of her lover, but of every emotion of her own soul; and it was + with a degree of chagrin which he could scarcely refrain from showing, + that he was compelled to forego, at least for the present, all his usual + arts of seduction. + </p> + <p> + Yet he knew not how to refrain. Never had Margaret Cooper seemed so lovely + in his eyes, so commanding, so eloquent with beauty, as now, when remorse + had touched her eyes with an unwonted shadow, and tears and nightwatching + had subdued the richer bloom upon her cheek. Proud still, but pensive in + her pride, she walked silently beside him, still brooding over thoughts + which she would not willingly admit were doubts, and grasping every word + of assurance that fell from his lips as if it had been some additional + security. + </p> + <p> + These assurances he still suffered to escape him, with sufficient + frequency and solemnity, to confirm that feeling of confidence which his + promise of marriage had inspired in her mind. There was a subdued fondness + in his voice, and an EMPRESSMENT in his manner, which was not all + practice. The character which Margaret Cooper had displayed in this last + interview—her equal firmness and fear—the noble elevation of + soul which, admitting her own errors, disdained to remind him of his—a + course which would have been the most ready of adoption among the weaker + and less generous of the sex—had touched him with a degree of + respect akin to admiration; and so strong was the impression made upon him + of her great natural superiority of mind to almost all the women he had + ever met, that, but for her one unhappy lapse, he had sought no other + wife. Had she been strong at first as she proved herself at last, this had + been inevitable. + </p> + <p> + When in his own chamber that night, he could not help recalling to his + memory the proud elevation of her character as it had appeared in that + interview. The recollection really gave him pain, since along with it + arose the memory also of that unfortunate frailty, which became more + prominent as a crime in connection with that intellectual merit which, it + is erroneously assumed, should have made it sure. + </p> + <p> + “But for that, Margaret Cooper, and this marriage were no vain promise. + But that forbids. No, no—no spousals for me: let John Cross and the + bride be ready or not, there shall be a party wanting to that contract! + And yet, what a woman to lose! what a woman to win! No tragedy queen ever + bore herself like that. Talk of Siddons, indeed! SHE would have brought + down the house in that sudden prostration—that passionate appeal. + She made even me tremble. I could have loved her for that, if for that + only. To make ME tremble! and with such a look, such an eye, such a stern, + sweet, fierce beauty! By Heavens! I know not how to give her up. What a + sensation she would make in Frankfort! Were she my wife—but no, no! + bait for gudgeons! I am not so great a fool as that. She who is mine on my + terms, is yours, sir, or yours—is anybody's, when the humor suits + and the opportunity. I can not think of that. Yet, to lose her is as + little to be thought of. I must manage it. I must get her off from this + place. It need not be to Frankfort! Let me see—there is—hum!—hum!—yes, + a ride of a few miles—an afternoon excursion—quite convenient, + yet not too near. It must be managed; but, at all events, I must evade + this marriage—put it off for the present—get some decent + excuse. That's easy enough, and for the rest, why, time that softens all + things, except man and woman, time will make that easy too. To-morrow for + Ellisland, and the rest after.” + </p> + <p> + Thus, resolving not to keep his vows to his unhappy victim, the criminal + was yet devising plans by which to continue his power over her. These + plans, yet immature in his own mind, at least unexpressed, need not be + analyzed here, and may be conjectured by the reader. + </p> + <p> + That night, Stevens busied himself in preparing letters. Of these he wrote + several. It will not further our progress to look over him as he writes; + and we prefer rather, in this place, to hurry on events which, it may be + the complaint of all parties, reader not omitted, have been too long + suffered to stagnate. But we trust not. Let us hurry Stevens through + Friday night—the night of that last interview. + </p> + <p> + Saturday morning, we observe that his appetite is unimpaired. He discusses + the breakfast at Hinkley's as if he had never heard of suffering. He has + said an unctuous grace. Biscuits hot, of best Ohio flour, are smoking on + his plate. A golden-looking mass of best fresh butter is made to + assimilate its luscious qualities with those of the drier and hotter + substance. A copious bowl of milk, new from the dugs of old Brindle, + stands beside him, patiently waiting to be honored by his unscrupulous but + not unfastidious taste. The grace is said, and the gravy follows. He has a + religious regard for the goods and gifts of this life. He eats heartily, + and the thanks which follow, if not from the bottom of the soul, were + sufficiently earnest to have emanated from the bottom of his stomach. + </p> + <p> + This over, he has a chat with his hosts. He discusses with old Hinkley the + merits of the new lights. What these new lights were, at that period, we + do not pretend to remember. Among sectarians, there are periodical new + lights which singularly tend to increase the moral darkness. From these, + after a while, they passed to the love festivals or feasts—a + pleasant practice of the methodist church, which is supposed to be very + promotive of many other good things besides love; though we are + constrained to say that Brother Stevens and Brother Hinkley—who, it + may be remarked, had very long and stubborn arguments, frequently without + discovering, till they reached the close, that they were thoroughly agreed + in every respect except in words—concurred in the opinion that there + was no portion of the church practice so highly conducive to the + amalgamation of soul with soul, and all souls with God, as this very + practice of love-feasts! + </p> + <p> + Being agreed on this and other subjects, Mr. Hinkley invited Brother + Stevens out to look at his turnips and potatoes; and when this delicate + inquiry was over, toward ten o'clock in the day, Brother Stevens concluded + that he must take a gallop; he was dyspeptic, felt queerish, his studies + were too close, his mind too busy with the great concerns of salvation. + These are enough to give one dyspepsia. Of course, the hot rolls and + mountains of volcanic butter—steam-ejecting—could have + produced no such evil effects upon a laborer in the vineyard. At all + events, a gallop was necessary, and the horse was brought. Brother Hinkley + and our matronly sister of the same name watched the progress of the pious + youth, as, spurring up the hills, he pursued the usual route, taking at + first the broad highway leading to the eastern country. + </p> + <p> + There were other eyes that watched the departure of Brother Stevens with + no less interest, but of another kind, than those of the venerable couple. + Our excellent friend Calvert started up on hearing the tread of the horse, + and, looking out from his porch, ascertained with some eagerness of glance + that the rider was Alfred Stevens. + </p> + <p> + Now, why was the interest of Calvert so much greater on this than on any + other previous occasion? We will tell you, gentle reader. He had been + roused at an early hour that morning by a visit from Ned Hinkley. + </p> + <p> + “Gran'pa,” was the reverent formula of our fisherman at beginning, + “to-day's the day. I'm pretty certain that Stevens will be riding out + to-day, for he missed the last Saturday. I'll take my chance for it, + therefore, and brush out ahead of him. I think I've got it pretty straight + now, the place that he goes to, and I'll see if I can't get there soon + enough to put myself in a comfortable fix, so as to see what's a-going on + and what he goes after. Now, gran'pa, I'll tell you what I want from you—them + pocket-pistols of your'n. Bill Hinkley carried off grandad's, and there's + none besides that I can lay hold on.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Ned, I'm afraid to lend them to you.” + </p> + <p> + “What 'fraid of?” + </p> + <p> + “That you'll use them.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure I will, if there's any need, gran'pa. What do I get them for?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! but I fear you'll find a necessity where there is none. You'll + be thrusting your head into some fray in which you may lose your ears.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jupiter, no! No, gran'pa, I'll wait for the necessity. I won't look + for it. I'm going straight ahead this time, and to one object only. I + think Stevens is a rascal, and I'm bent to find him out. I've had no + disposition to lick anybody but him, ever since he drove Bill Hinkley off—you + and him together.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll promise me, Ned?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure as a snag in the forehead of a Mississippi steamer. Depend upon me.” + </p> + <p> + “But there must be no quarrelling with Stevens either, Ned.” + </p> + <p> + “Look you, gran'pa, if I'm to quarrel with Stevens or anybody else, + 'twouldn't be your pistols in my pocket that would make me set on, and + 'twouldn't be the want of 'em that would make me stop. When it's my cue to + fight, look you, I won't need any prompter, in the shape of friend or + pistol. Now THAT speech is from one of your poets, pretty near, and ought + to convince you that you may as well lend the puppies and say no more + about it. If you don't you'll only compel me to carry my rifle, and + that'll be something worse to an enemy, and something heavier for me. + Come, come, gran'pa, don't be too scrupulous in your old age. YOUR HAVING + them is a sufficient excuse for MY HAVING them too. It shows that they + ought to be had.” + </p> + <p> + “You're logic-chopping this morning, Ned—see that you don't get to + man-chopping in the afternoon. You shall have the pistols, but do not use + them rashly. I have kept them simply for defence against invasion; not for + the purpose of quarrel, or revenge.” + </p> + <p> + “And you've kept them mighty well, gran'pa,” replied the young man, as he + contemplated with an eye of anxious admiration, the polish of the steel + barrels, the nice carving of the handles, and the fantastic but graceful + inlay of the silver-mounting and setting. The old man regarded him with a + smile. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Ned, I've kept them well. They have never taken life, though they + have been repeatedly tried upon bull's eye and tree-bark. If you will + promise me not to use them to-day, Ned, you shall have them.” + </p> + <p> + “Take 'em back, gran'pa.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'd feel the meanest in the world to have a weapon, and not use it + when there's a need to do so; and I'm half afraid that the temptation of + having such beautiful puppies for myself—twin-puppies, I may say—having + just the same look out of the eyes, and just the same spots and marks, + and, I reckon, just the same way of giving tongue—I'm half afraid, I + say, that to get to be the owner of them, might tempt me to stand quiet + and let a chap wink at me—maybe laugh outright—may be suck in + his breath, and give a phew-phew-whistle just while I'm passing! No! no! + gran'pa, take back your words, or take back your puppies. Won't risk to + carry both. I'd sooner take Patsy Rifle, with all her weight, and no terms + at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, Ned, you're a fool.” + </p> + <p> + “That's no news, gran'pa, to you or me. But it don't alter the case. Put + up your puppies.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Ned; you shall have them on your own terms. Take 'em as they are. I + give them to you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I may shoot anybody I please this afternoon, gran'pa?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, Ned—; anybody—” + </p> + <p> + Thus far the old man, when he stopped himself, changed his manner, which + was that of playful good-humor, to that of gravity, while his tones + underwent a corresponding change— + </p> + <p> + “But, Ned, my son, while I leave it to your discretion, I yet beg you to + proceed cautiously—seek no strife, avoid it—go not into the + crowd—keep from them where you see them drinking, and do not use + these or any weapons for any trifling provocation. Nothing but the last + necessity of self-preservation justifies the taking of life.” + </p> + <p> + “Gran'pa—thank you—you've touched me in the very midst of my + tender-place, by this handsome present. One of these puppies I'll name + after you, and I'll notch it on the butt. The other I'll call Bill + Hinkley, and I won't notch that. Yours, I'll call my pacific puppy, and + I'll use it only for peace-making purposes. The other I'll call my + bull-pup, and him I'll use for baiting and butting, and goring. But, as + you beg, I promise you I'll keep 'em both out of mischief as long as I + can. Be certain sure that it won't be my having the pups that'll make me + get into a skrimmage a bit the sooner; for I never was the man to ask + whether my dogs were at hand before I could say the word, 'set-on!' It's a + sort of nature in a man that don't stop to look after his weapons, but + naturally expects to find 'em any how, when his blood's up, and there's a + necessity to do.” + </p> + <p> + This long speech and strong assurance of his pacific nature and purposes, + did not prevent the speaker from making, while he spoke, certain dextrous + uses of the instrument's which were given into his hands. Right and left + were equally busy; one muzzle was addressed to the candle upon the + mantelpiece, the other pursued the ambulatory movements of a great black + spider upon the wall. The old man surveyed him with an irrepressible + smile. Suddenly interrupting himself the youth exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Are they loaded, gran'pa?” + </p> + <p> + He was answered in the negative. + </p> + <p> + “Because, if they were,” said he, “and that great black spider was Brother + Stevens, I'd show you in the twinkle of a musquito, how I'd put a finish + to his morning's work. But I'd use the bull-pup, gran'pa—see, this + one—the pacific one I'd empty upon him with powder only, as a sort + of feu de joie—and then I'd set up the song—what's it? ah! Te + Deum. A black spider always puts me in mind of a rascal.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX. — THE FOX IN THE TRAP. + </h2> + <p> + The youth barely stopped to swallow his breakfast, when he set off from + the village. He managed his movements with considerable caution; and, + fetching a circuit from an opposite quarter, after having ridden some five + miles out of his way, passed into the road which he suspected that Stevens + would pursue. We do not care to show the detailed processes by which he + arrived at this conclusion. The reader may take for granted that he had + heard from some way-side farmer, that a stranger rode by his cottage once + a week, wearing such and such breeches, and mounted upon a nag of a + certain color and with certain qualities. Enough to say, that Ned Hinkley + was tolerably certain of his route and man. + </p> + <p> + He sped on accordingly—did not once hesitate at turns, right or + left, forks and crossroads, but keeping an inflexible course, he placed + himself at such a point on the road as to leave it no longer doubtful, + should Stevens pass, of the place which usually brought him up. Here he + dismounted, hurried his horse, out of sight and hearing, into the woods, + and choosing a position for himself, with some nicety, along the + road-side, put himself in close cover, where, stretching his frame at + length, he commenced the difficult labor of cooling his impatience with + his cogitations. + </p> + <p> + But cogitating, with a fellow of his blood, rather whets impatience. He + was monstrous restiff. At his fishing pond, with a trout to hook, he would + have lain for hours, as patient as philosophy itself, and as inflexible as + the solid rock over which he brooded. But without an angle at his hand, + how could he keep quiet? Not by thinking, surely; and, least of all, by + thinking about that person for whom his hostility was so active. Thinking + of Stevens, by a natural association, reminded him of the pistols which + Calvert had given him. Nothing could be more natural than to draw them + from his bosom. Again and again he examined them in fascinated + contemplation. He had already charged them, and he amused himself by + thinking of the mischief he could do, by a single touch upon the trigger, + to a poor little wood-rat, that once or twice ran along a decaying log + some five steps from his feet. But his object being secrecy, the rat + brushed his whiskers in safety. Still he amused himself by aiming at this + and other objects, until suddenly reminded of the very important + difference which he had promised Calvert to make between the pistols in + his future use of them. With this recollection he drew out his knife, and + laid the weapons before him. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said he, after a careful examination, in which he fancied he + discovered some slight difference between them in the hang of the trigger—“this + shall be my bull-pup—this my peace-maker!” + </p> + <p> + The latter was marked accordingly with a “P,” carved rudely enough by one + whose hand was much more practised in slitting the weasand of a buck, than + in cutting out, with crayon, or Italian crow-quill, the ungainly forms of + the Roman alphabet. Ned Hinkley shook his head with some misgiving when + the work was done; as he could not but see that he had somewhat impaired + the beauty of the peacemaker's butt by the hang-dog looking initial which + he had grafted upon it. But when he recollected the subordinate uses to + which this “puppy” was to be put, and considered how unlikely, in his + case, it would be exposed to sight in comparison with its more masculine + brother, he grew partially reconciled to an evil which was now, indeed, + irreparable. + </p> + <p> + It does not require that we should bother the reader with the numberless + thoughts and fancies which bothered our spy, in the three mortal hours in + which he kept his watch. Nothing but the hope that he should ultimately be + compensated to the utmost by a full discovery of all that he sought to + know, could possibly have sustained him during the trying ordeal. At every + new spasm of impatience which he felt, he drew up his legs, shifted from + one side to the other and growled out some small thunder in the shape of a + threat that “it would be only so much the worse for him when the time + came!” HIM—meaning Stevens. + </p> + <p> + At last Stevens came. He watched the progress of his enemy with keen eyes; + and, with his “bull-pup” in his hand, which a sort of instinct made him + keep in the direction of the highway, he followed his form upon the road. + When he was out of sight and hearing, the spy jumped to his feet. The + game, he felt, was secure now—in one respect at least. + </p> + <p> + “He's for Ellisland. That was no bad guess then. He might have been for + Fergus, or Jonesboro', or Debarre, but there's no turn now in the clear + track to Ellisland. He's there for certain.” + </p> + <p> + Ned Hinkley carefully restored his pistols to his bosom and buttoned up. + He was mounted in a few moments, and pressing slowly forward in pursuit. + He had his own plans which we will not attempt to fathom; but we fear we + shall be compelled to admit that he was not sufficiently a gentleman to + scruple at turning scout in a time of peace (though, with him, by the way, + and thus he justified, he is in pursuit of an enemy, and consequently is + at war), and dodging about, under cover, spying out the secrets of the + land, and not very fastidious in listening to conversation that does not + exactly concern him. We fear that there is some such flaw in the character + of Ned Hinkley, though, otherwise, a good, hardy fellow—with a rough + and tumble sort of good nature, which, having bloodied your nose, would + put a knife-handle down your back, and apply a handful of cobwebs to the + nasal extremity in order to arrest the haemorrhage. We are sorry that + there is such a defect in his character; but we did not put it there. We + should prefer that he should be perfect—the reader will believe us—but + there are grave lamentations enough over the failures of humanity to + render our homilies unnecessary. Ned Hinkley was not a gentleman, and the + only thing to be said in his behalf, is, that he was modest enough to make + pretensions to the character. As he once said in a row the company muster:— + </p> + <p> + “I'm blackguard enough, on this occasion, to whip e'er a gentleman among + you!” + </p> + <p> + Without any dream of such a spectre at his heels to disturb his + imagination, Alfred Stevens was pursuing his way toward Ellisland, at that + easy travelling gait, which is the best for man and beast, vulgarly called + a “dog-trot.” Some very fine and fanciful people insist upon calling it a + “jog-trot.” We beg leave, in this place, to set them right. Every trot is + a jog, and so, for that matter, is every canter. A dog-trot takes its name + from the even motion of the smaller quadruped, when it is seized with no + particular mania, and is yet disposed to go stubbornly forward. It is in + more classical dialect, the festina lente motion. It is regularly forward, + and therefore fast—it never puts the animal out of breath, and is + therefore slow. Nobody ever saw a dog practice this gait, with a tin + canister at his tail, and a huddle of schoolboys at his heels. No! it is + THE travelling motion, considering equally the health of all parties, and + the necessity of getting on. + </p> + <p> + In this desire, Ned Hinkley pressed too closely on the heels of Stevens. + He once nearly overhauled him; and falling back, he subdued his speed, to + what, in the same semi-figurative language, he styled “the puppy-trot.” + Observing these respective gaits, Brother Stevens rode into Ellisland at a + moderately late dinner-hour, and the pursuer followed at an unspeakable, + but not great, distance behind him. We will, henceforward, after a brief + glance at Ellisland, confine ourselves more particularly to the progress + of Brother Stevens. + </p> + <p> + Ellisland was one of those little villages to which geographers scarcely + accord a place upon the maps. It is not honored with a dot in any map that + we have ever seen of Kentucky. But, for all this, it is a place! Some day + the name will be changed into Acarnania or Etolia, Epirus or Scandinavia, + and then be sure you shall hear of it. Already, the village lawyers—there + are two of them—have been discussing the propriety of a change to + something classical; and we do not doubt that, before long, their + stupidity will become infectious. Under these circumstances Ellisland will + catch a name that will stick. At present you would probably never hear of + the place, were it not necessary to our purposes and those of Brother + Stevens. + </p> + <p> + It has its tavern and blacksmith shop—its church—the meanest + fabric in the village—its postoffice and public well and trough. + There is also a rack pro bono publico, but as it is in front of the + tavern, the owner of that establishment has not wholly succeeded in + convincing the people that it was put there with simple reference to the + public convenience. The tavern-keeper is, politically, a quadrupled + personage. He combines the four offices of post-master, justice of the + peace, town council, and publican; and is considered a monstrous small + person with all. The truth is, reader—this aside—he has been + democrat and whig, alternately, every second year of his political life. + His present politics, being loco-foco, are in Ellisland considered contra + bonos mores. It is hoped that he will be dismissed from office, and a + memorial to that effect is in preparation; but the days of Harrison—“and + Tyler too”—have not yet come round, and Jerry Sunderland, who knows + what his enemies are driving at, whirls his coat-skirts, and snaps his + fingers, in scorn of all their machinations. He has a friend at + Washington, who spoons in the back parlor of the white-house—in + other words, is a member o f the kitchen-cabinet, of which, be it said, en + passant, there never was a president of the United States yet entirely + without one—and—there never will be! So much for politics and + Ellisland. + </p> + <p> + There was some crowd in the village on the day of Brother Stevens's + arrival. Saturday is a well known day in the western and southern country + for making a village gathering; and when Brother Stevens, having hitched + his horse at the public rack, pushed his way to the postoffice, he had no + small crowd to set aside. He had just deposited his letters, received + others in return, answered some ten or fifteen questions which Jerry + Sunderland, P. M., Q. U., N. P., M. C., publican and sinner—such + were all deservedly his titles—had thought it necessary to address + to him, when he was suddenly startled by a familiar tap upon the shoulder; + such a tap as leads the recipient to imagine that he is about to be + honored with the affectionate salutation of some John Doe or Richard Roe + of the law. Stevens turned with some feeling of annoyance, if not + misgiving, and met the arch, smiling, and very complacent visage of a + tall, slender young gentleman in black bushy whiskers and a green coat, + who seized him by the hand and shook it heartily, while a chuckling + half-suppressed laughter gurgling in his throat, for a moment, forbade the + attempt to speak. Stevens seemed disquieted and looked around him + suspiciously. + </p> + <p> + “What! you here, Ben?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, you see me! You didn't expect to see me, Warham—-” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” was the whispered word of Stevens, again looking round him in + trepidation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! ay!” said the other with a sly chuckle, and also in a whisper, “Mr. + Stevens—Brother Stevens—hem! I did not think. How is your + holiness to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “Come aside,” muttered Stevens; and, taking the arm of the incautious + speaker, he led him away from the crowd and took the way out of the + village. Their meeting and departure did not occasion much, if any, + sensation. The visitors in the village were all too busy in discussing the + drink and doctrines, pretty equally distributed, of Jerry the publican. + But there was one eye that noted the meeting of the friends; that beheld + the concern and confusion of Stevens: that saw their movements, and + followed their departing steps. + </p> + <p> + “Take your horse—where is he?” demanded Stevens. + </p> + <p> + “Here, at hand; but what do you mean to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, but get out of hearing and sight; for your long tongue, Ben, and + significant face, would blab any secret, however deep.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! did I not say that I would find you out? Did you get my last letter?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I did: but I'm devilish sorry, Ben, that you've come. You'll do + mischief. You have always been a mar-plot.” + </p> + <p> + “Never, never! You don't know me.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I?—but get your horse, and let's go into the woods, while we + talk over matters.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not leave the nags here?” + </p> + <p> + “For a very good reason. My course lies in that direction, so that I am in + my way; while yours, if your purpose be to go back to Frankfort, will lie + on the upper side. Neither of us need come back to the village.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think to shuffle me off so soon, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “What would you have me do?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, give us a peep at this beauty—this Altamira of yours—at + least.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible! Do not think of it, Ben; you'd spoil all. But, get the horse. + These billet-heads will suspect mischief if they see us talking together, + particularly when they behold your conceited action. This political + landlord will surmise that you are a second Aaron Burr, about to beat up + recruits to conquer California. Your big whiskers—what an atrocious + pair!—with your standing collar, will confirm the impression.” + </p> + <p> + The two were soon mounted, and rode into the adjoining woods. They were + only a stone's-throw from the village, when Stevens alighted, followed by + his companion. They hitched their horses to some swinging branches of a + sheltering tree, and, going aside a few paces beyond, seated themselves + upon the grass, as they fancied, in a place of perfect security. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Ben, what in truth brings you here?” demanded Stevens, in tones + of voice and with a look which betrayed anything but satisfaction with the + visit. + </p> + <p> + “Curiosity, I tell you, and the legs of my horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! you have some other motive.” + </p> + <p> + “No, 'pon honor. I resolved to find you out—to see what you were + driving at, and where. I could only guess a part from your letter to + Barnabas, and that costive scrawl with which you honored me. Perhaps, too—and + give my friendship credit for the attempt—I came with some hope to + save you.” + </p> + <p> + “Save me—from what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, wedlock—the accursed thing! The club is in terror lest you + should forget your vows. So glowing were your descriptions of your + Cleopatra, that we knew not what to make. We feared everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Barnabas might have opened your eyes: he knew better.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not married, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! no.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor engaged?” + </p> + <p> + The other laughed as he replied:— + </p> + <p> + “Why, on that head, the least said the better. The roving commission + permits you to run up any flag that the occasion requires.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you sly dog!—and what success?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Ben, you must not be so inquisitive. The game's my own, you + know; and the rules of the club give me immunity from a fellow-member.” + </p> + <p> + “By Gad, I'll resign! I must see this forest beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Impossible!” + </p> + <p> + “Where's she? How will you prevent?” + </p> + <p> + “By a very easy process. Do you know the bird that shrieks farthest from + her young ones when the fowler is at hand? I'll follow her example.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll follow you to the uttermost ends of the earth, Warham!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! you forget! Am I not Brother Stevens? Ha! ha! ha! You are not + sufficiently reverent, brother. See you no divinity in my look and + bearing? Hark you, Ben, I've been a sort of small divinity in the eyes of + a whole flock for a month past!” + </p> + <p> + “You pray?” + </p> + <p> + “And preach!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ha!—devilish good; but I must see you in order to believe. + I must, indeed, Brother Stevens. Why, man, think of it—success in + this enterprise will make you head of the fraternity—you will be + declared pope: but you must have witnesses!” + </p> + <p> + “So I think; and hark ye, Ben”—laying a finger on the arm of the + other—“I am successful!” + </p> + <p> + “What! you don't say so! This queen, this princess of Egypt, Cleopatra, + Altamira—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Is mine—soul and body—she is mine!” + </p> + <p> + “And is what you say? Come, come, you don't mean that such a splendid + woman as you describe—such a genius, poet, painter, musician—beauty + too!—you don't mean to say that—” + </p> + <p> + “I do, every bit of it.” + </p> + <p> + “'Gad! what a fellow!—what a lucky dog! But you must let me see her, + Warham!” + </p> + <p> + “What! to spoil all—to blurt out the truth?—for, with every + disposition to fib, you lack the ability. No, no, Ben: when the game's up—when + I'm tired of the sport, and feel the necessity of looking out fresh viands—you + shall then know all; I'll give the clue into your own hands, and you may + follow it to your heart's content. But not now!” + </p> + <p> + “But how will you get rid of me, mon ami, if my curiosity is stubborn?” + </p> + <p> + “Do as the kill-deer does—travel from the nest—go home with + you, rather than you should succeed in your impertinence, and have you + expelled from the club for thrusting your spoon into the dish of a + brother-member.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a Turk, with no bowels of compassion. But, at all events, you + promise me the dish when you're done with it? you give me the preference?” + </p> + <p> + “I do!” + </p> + <p> + “Swear by Beelzebub and Mohammed; by Jupiter Ammon and Johannes Secundus; + by the ghost of Cardinal Bembo, and the gridiron of the fraternity!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and by the virginity of Queen Elizabeth!” + </p> + <p> + “Simulacrum! no! no! no such oath for me! That's swearing by the thing + that is not, was not—could not be! You shall swear by the oaths of + the club—you must be bound on the gridiron of the fraternity, before + I believe you. Swear!” + </p> + <p> + “You are as tenacious as the ghost of buried Denmark But you shall be + satisfied. I swear by the mystic gridiron of the fraternity, and by the + legs thereof, of which the images are Beelzebub, Mohammed, Johannes + Secundus, and so forth—nay, by that memorable volume, so revered in + the eyes of the club, the new edition of 'The Basiad,' of which who among + us has been the true exponent?—that profound mystery of sweets, + fathomed hourly, yet unfathomable still—for which the commentators, + already legions, are hourly becoming legions more;—by these, and by + the mysteries of the mirror that reflects not our own, but the image we + desire;—by these things—by all things that among the + brotherhood are held potent—I swear to—” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the preference in the favor of this princess; the clue to find + her when you have left her; and the assurance that you will get a surfeit + as soon as possible: swear!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay! I swear not to that last! I shall hold on while appetite holds, + and make all efforts not to grow dyspeptic in a hurry. I'll keep my + stomach for a dainty, be sure, as long as I can. I were no brother, worthy + of our order, if I did not.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well—to the rest! Swear to the rest, and I am satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “You go back, then, instanter?” + </p> + <p> + “What! this very day?” + </p> + <p> + “This hour!” + </p> + <p> + “The d—-l! you don't mean THAT, Warham?” returned the other in some + consternation. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, this very hour! You must swear to that. Your oath must precede mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! man, remember I only got here last night—long ride—hard-trotting + horse. We have not seen each other for months. I have a cursed sight to + tell you about the boys—girls too—love, law, logic, politics. + Do you know they talk of running you for the house?” + </p> + <p> + “All in good season, Ben; not now. No, no! you shall see me when you least + look for me, and there will be time enough for all these matters then. + They'll keep. For the present, let me say to you that we must part now + within the hour. You must swear not to dog my steps, and I will swear to + give you carte blanche, and the first privileges at my princess, when I + leave her. This is my bargain. I make no other.” + </p> + <p> + “I've a great mind not to leave you,” said the other doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “And what will that resolution bring you, do you fancy? Do you suppose I + am to be tracked in such a manner? No, Ben! The effect will be to make me + set off for the east instantly, whether you go with me or not; and an + equally certain effect will be to make us cut loose for ever.” + </p> + <p> + “You're a d—-d hard colt to manage,” said the other moodily. + </p> + <p> + “I sha'n't let myself be straddled by every horse-boy, I assure you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, old fellow, that's too much like horse-play. Don't be angry + with me. I'll accept your conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said Stevens; “if you did not, Ben, it would be no better for + you; for, otherwise, you should never even see my beauty!” + </p> + <p> + “Is she so very beautiful, old boy?” + </p> + <p> + “A queen, I tell you! a proud, high-spirited, wild beauty of the mountains—a + thing of fire and majesty—a glorious woman, full of song and + sentiment and ambition—a genius, I tell you—who can improvise + like Corinne, and, by the way, continually reminds one of that glorious + creature. In Italy, she would have been greater than Corinne.” + </p> + <p> + “And you've won her—and she loves you?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay—to doting! I found her a sort of eagle—soaring, striving—always + with an eye upon the hills, and fighting with the sunbeams. I have subdued + her. She is now like a timid fawn that trembles at the very falling of a + leaf in the forests. She pants with hope to see me, and pants with + tremulous delight when I come. Still, she shows every now and then, a + glimmering of that eagle spirit which she had at first. She flashes up + suddenly, but soon sinks again. Fancy a creature, an idolater of fame + before, suddenly made captive by love, and you have a vain, partial image + of my forest-princess.” + </p> + <p> + “What a lucky dog! You'll marry her yet, old boy, in spite of all!” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! You are green to talk so.” + </p> + <p> + “You'll be devilish loath to give her up; I'm afraid I'll have to wait a + cursed long time.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not long! Do not despair. Easy won, easy valued.” + </p> + <p> + “And was she easily won?” + </p> + <p> + “Very! the game was a short one. She is a mere country-girl, you know, but + eighteen or thereabouts—suspecting nobody, and never dreaming that + she had a heart or passions at all. She thought only of her poetry and her + books. It was only necessary to work upon heart and passions while talking + of poetry and books, and they carried her out of her depth before she + could recover. She's wiser now, Ben, I can assure you, and will require + more dexterity to keep than to conquer.” + </p> + <p> + “And she has no brother to worry a body—no d—-d ugly Hobnail, + who has a fancy for her, and may make a window between the ribs of a + gallant, such as nature never intended, with the ounce-bullet of some d—-d + old-fashioned seven-foot rifle—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “There was a silly chap, one Hinkley, who tried it on me—actually + challenged me, though I was playing parson, and there might have been work + for me but for his own bull-headed father, who came to my rescue, beat the + boy and drove him from the place. There is nobody else to give me any + annoyance, unless it be a sort of half-witted chap, a cousin of the former—a + sleepy dog that is never, I believe, entirely awake unless when he's + trout-fishing. He has squinted at me, as if he could quarrel if he dared, + but the lad is dull—too dull to be very troublesome. You might kiss + his grandmother under his nose, and he would probably regard it only as a + compliment to her superior virtues, and would thank you accordingly—” + </p> + <p> + A voice a little to the left interrupted the speaker. + </p> + <p> + “So he does, my brave parson, for his grandmother's sake and his own,” + were the words of the speaker. They turned in sudden amaze to the spot + whence the sounds issued. The bushes opening in this quarter, presented to + the astonished eyes of Brother Stevens, the perfect image of the dull lad + of whom he had been speaking. There was Ned Hinkley in proper person—perfectly + awake, yet not trout-fishing! A sarcastic grin was upon his visage, and + rolling his eyes with a malicious leer, he repeated the words which had + first interrupted the progress of the dialogue between the friends. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Brother Stevens, for the compliment to my grandmother's + virtues. I thank you, on her account as well as my own. I'm very grateful, + I assure you, very grateful, very!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI. — “ABSQUATULATING.” + </h2> + <p> + Had a bolt suddenly flashed and thundered at the feet of the two friends, + falling from a clear sky in April, they could not have been more + astounded. They started, as with one impulse, in the same moment to their + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Keep quiet,” said the intruder; “don't let me interrupt you in so + pleasant a conversation. I'd like to hear you out. I'm refreshed by it. + What you say is so very holy and sermon-like, that I'm like a new man when + I hear it. Sit down, Brother Stevens, and begin again; sit down, Ben, my + good fellow, and don't look so scary! You look as if you had a window in + your ribs already!” + </p> + <p> + The intruder had not moved, though he had startled the conspirators. He + did not seem to share in their excitement. He was very coolly seated, with + his legs deliberately crossed, while his two hands parted the bushes + before him in order to display his visage—perhaps with the modest + design of showing to the stranger that his friend had grievously + misrepresented its expression. Certainly, no one could say that, at this + moment, it lacked anything of spirit or intelligence. Never were eyes more + keen—never were lips more emphatically made to denote sarcasm and + hostility. The whole face was alive with scorn, and hate, and bitterness; + and there was defiance enough in the glance to have put wings to fifty + bullets. + </p> + <p> + His coolness, the composure which his position and words manifested, + awakened the anger of Brother Stevens as soon as the first feeling of + surprise had passed away. He felt, in a moment, that the game was up with + him—that he could no longer play the hypocrite in Charlemont. He + must either keep his pledges to Margaret Cooper, without delay or excuse, + or he must abandon all other designs which his profligate heart may have + suggested in its cruel purposes against her peace. + </p> + <p> + “Scoundrel!” he exclaimed; “how came you here? What have you heard?” + </p> + <p> + “Good words, Brother Stevens. You forget, you are a parson.” + </p> + <p> + “Brain the rascal!” exclaimed the whiskered stranger, looking more fierce + than ever. The same idea seemed to prompt the actions of Stevens. Both of + them, at the same moment, advanced upon the intruder, with their whips + uplifted; but still Ned Hinkley did not rise. With his legs still crossed, + he kept his position, simply lifting from the sward beside him, where they + had been placed conveniently, his two “puppies.” One of these he grasped + in his right hand and presented as his enemies approached. + </p> + <p> + “This, gentlemen,” said he, “is my peace-maker. It says, 'Keep your + distance.' This is my bull-pup, or peace-breaker; it says, 'Come on.' + Listen to which you please. It's all the same to me. Both are ready to + answer you, and I can hardly keep 'em from giving tongue. The bull-pup + longs to say something to you, Brother Stevens—the pacificator is + disposed to trim your whiskers, Brother Ben; and I say, for 'em both, come + on, you black-hearted rascals, if you want to know whether a girl of + Charlemont can find a man of Charlemont to fight her battles. I'm man + enough, by the Eternal, for both of you!” + </p> + <p> + The effect of Hinkley's speech was equally great upon himself and the + enemy. He sprang to his feet, ere the last sentence was concluded, and + they recoiled in something like indecent haste. The language of + determination was even more strongly expressed by the looks of the rustic + than by his language and action. They backed hurriedly at his approach. + </p> + <p> + “What! won't you stand?—won't you answer to your villanies?—won't + you fight? Pull out your barkers and blaze away, you small-souled scamps; + I long to have a crack at you—here and there—both at a time! + Aint you willing? I'm the sleepy trout-fisherman! Don't you know me? + You've waked me up, my lads, and I sha'n't sleep again in a hurry! As for + you, Alfred Stevens—you were ready to fight Bill Hinkley—here's + another of the breed—won't you fight him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—give me one of your pistols, if you dare, and take your stand,” + said Stevens boldly. + </p> + <p> + “You're a cunning chap—give you one of my puppies—a stick for + my own head—while this bush-whiskered chap cudgels me over from + behind. No! no! none of that! Besides, these pistols were a gift from a + good man, they sha'n't be disgraced by the handling of a bad one. Get your + own weapons, Brother Stevens, and every man to his tree.” + </p> + <p> + “They are in Charlemont!” + </p> + <p> + “Well!—you'll meet me there then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” was the somewhat eager answer of Stevens, “I will meet you there—to-morrow + morning—” + </p> + <p> + “Sunday—no! no!” + </p> + <p> + “Monday, then; this evening, if we get home in season.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a bargain then,” replied Hinkley, “though I can hardly keep from + giving you the teeth of the bull! As for big-whiskered Ben, there, I'd + like to let him taste my pacificator. I'd just like to brush up his + whiskers with gun-powder—they look to have been done up with bear's + grease before, and have a mighty fine curl; but if I wouldn't frizzle them + better than ever a speckled hen had her feathers frizzled, then I don't + know the virtues of gun-powder. On Monday morning, Brother Stevens!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay! on Monday morning!” + </p> + <p> + Had Ned Hinkley been more a man of the world—had he not been a + simple backwoodsman, he would have seen, in the eagerness of Stevens to + make this arrangement, something, which would have rendered him suspicious + of his truth. The instantaneous thought of the arch-hypocrite, convinced + him that he could never return to Charlemont if this discovery was once + made there. His first impulse was to put it out of the power of Ned + Hinkley to convey the tidings. We do not say that he would have + deliberately murdered him; but, under such an impulse of rage and + disappointment as governed him in the first moments of detection, murder + has been often done. He would probably have beaten him into incapacity + with his whip—which had a heavy handle—had not the rustic been + sufficiently prepared. The pistols of Stevens were in his valise, but he + had no purpose of fighting, on equal terms, with a man who spoke with the + confidence of one who knew how to use his tools; and when the simple + fellow, assuming that he would return to Charlemont for his chattels, + offered him the meeting there, he eagerly caught at the suggestion as + affording himself and friend the means of final escape. + </p> + <p> + It was not merely the pistols of Hinkley of which he had a fear. But he + well knew how extreme would be the danger, should the rustic gather + together the people of Ellisland, with the story of his fraud, and the + cruel consequences to the beauty of Charlemont, by which the deception had + been followed. But the simple youth, ignorant of the language of + libertinism, had never once suspected the fatal lapse from virtue of which + Margaret Cooper had been guilty. He was too unfamiliar with the annals and + practices of such criminals, to gather this fact from the equivocal words, + and half-spoken sentences, and sly looks of the confederates. Had he + dreamed this—had it, for a moment, entered into his conjecturings—that + such had been the case, he would probably have shot down the seducer + without a word of warning. But that the crime was other than prospective, + he had not the smallest fancy; and this may have been another reason why + he took the chances of Stevens's return to Charlemont, and let him off at + the moment. + </p> + <p> + “Even should he not return,” such may have been his reflection—“I + have prevented mischief at least. He will be able to do no harm. Margaret + Cooper shall be warned of her escape, and become humbler at least, if not + wiser in consequence. At all events, the eyes of Uncle Hinkley will be + opened, and poor Bill be restored to us again!” + </p> + <p> + “And now mount, you scamps,” said Hinkley, pressing upon the two with + presented pistols. “I'm eager to send big-whiskered Ben home to his + mother; and to see you, Brother Stevens, on your way back to Charlemont. I + can hardly keep hands off you till then; and it's only to do so, that I + hurry you. If you stay, looking black, mouthing together, I can't stand + it. I will have a crack at you. My peace-maker longs to brush up them + whiskers. My bull-pup is eager to take you, Brother Stevens, by the + muzzle! Mount you, as quick as you can, before I do mischief.” + </p> + <p> + Backing toward their horses, they yielded to the advancing muzzles, which + the instinct of fear made them loath to turn their backs upon. Never were + two hopeful projectors so suddenly abased—so completely baffled. + Hinkley, advancing with moderate pace, now thrust forward one, and now the + other pistol, accompanying the action with a specific sentence + corresponding to each, in manner and form as follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Back, parson—back, whiskers! Better turn, and look out for the + roots, as you go forward. There's no seeing your way along the road by + looking down the throats of my puppies. If you want to be sure that + they'll follow till you're mounted, you have my word for it. No mistake, I + tell you. They're too eager on scent, to lose sight of you in a hurry, and + they're ready to give tongue at a moment's warning. Take care not to + stumble, whiskers, or the pacificator 'll be into your brush.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll pay you for this!” exclaimed Stevens, with a rage which was not less + really felt than judiciously expressed. “Wait till we meet!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay! I'll wait; but be in a hurry. Turn now, your nags are at your + backs. Turn and mount!” + </p> + <p> + In this way they reached the tree where their steeds were fastened. Thus, + with the muzzle of a pistol bearing close upon the body of each—the + click of the cock they had heard—the finger close to the trigger + they saw—they were made to mount—in momentary apprehension + that the backwoodsman, whose determined character was sufficiently seen in + his face, might yet change his resolve, and with wanton hand, riddle their + bodies with his bullets. It was only when they were mounted, that they + drew a breath of partial confidence. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said Hinkley, “my lads, let there be few last words between you. + The sooner you're off the better. As for you, Alfred Stevens, the sooner + you're back in Charlemont the more daylight we'll have to go upon. I'll be + waiting you, I reckon, when you come.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and you may wait,” said Stevens, as the speaker turned off and + proceeded to the spot where his own horse was fastened. + </p> + <p> + “You won't return, of course?” said his companion. + </p> + <p> + “No! I must now return with you, thanks to your interference. By Heavens, + Ben, I knew, at your coming, that you would do mischief; you have been a + marplot ever; and after this, I am half-resolved to forswear your society + for ever.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay! do not say so, Warham. It was unfortunate, I grant you; but how + the devil should either of us guess that such a Turk as that was in the + bush?” + </p> + <p> + “Enough for the present,” said the other. “It is not now whether I wish to + ride with you or not. There is no choice. There is no return to + Charlemont.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's the name of the place, is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! yes! Much good may the knowledge of it do you.” + </p> + <p> + “How fortunate that this silly fellow concluded to let you off on such a + promise. What an ass!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! but he may grow wiser! Put spurs to your jade, and let us see what + her heels are good for, for the next three hours. I do not yet feel + secure. The simpleton may grow wiser and change his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “He can scarcely do us harm now, if he does.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Stevens—“you know nothing. There's such a thing as + hue and cry, and its not unfrequently practised in these regions, when the + sheriff is not at hand and constables are scarce. Every man is then a + sheriff.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—but there's no law-process against us!” + </p> + <p> + “You are a born simpleton, I think,” said Stevens, with little scruple. He + was too much mortified to be very heedful of the feelings of his + companion. “There needs no law in such a case, at least for the CAPTURE of + a supposed criminal; and, for that matter, they do not find it necessary + for his punishment either. Hark ye, Ben—there's a farmhouse?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see it!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't you smell tar?—They're running it now!” + </p> + <p> + “I think I do smell something like it. What of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you see that bed hanging from yon window?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! of course I see it!” + </p> + <p> + “It is a feather-bed!” + </p> + <p> + “Well—what of that? Why tell me this stuff? Of course I can guess as + well as you that it's a feather-bed, since I see a flock of geese in the + yard with their necks all bare.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark ye, then! There's something more than this, which you may yet see! + Touch up your mare. If this fellow brings the mob at Ellisland upon us, + that tar will be run, and that feather-bed gutted, for our benefit. What + they took from the geese will be bestowed on us. Do you understand me? Did + you ever hear of a man whose coat was made of tar and feathers, and + furnished at the expense of the county?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, for God's sake, Warham! you make my blood run cold with your + hideous notions!” + </p> + <p> + “That fellow offered to frizzle your whiskers. These would anoint them + with tar, in which your bear's oil would be of little use.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! don't you hear a noise?” demanded the whiskered companion, looking + behind him. + </p> + <p> + “I think I do,” replied the other musingly. + </p> + <p> + “A great noise!” continued Don Whiskerandos. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it seems to me that it is a great noise.” + </p> + <p> + “Like people shouting?” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhat—yes, by my soul, that DOES sound something like a shout!” + </p> + <p> + “And there! Don't stop to look and listen, Warham,” cried his companion; + “it's no time for meditation. They're coming! hark!—” and with a + single glance behind him—with eyes dilating with the novel + apprehensions of receiving a garment, unsolicited, bestowed by the bounty + of the county—he drove his spurs into the flanks of his mare, and + went ahead like an arrow. Stevens smiled in spite of his vexation. + </p> + <p> + “D—n him!” he muttered as he rode forward, “it's some satisfaction, + at least, to scare the soul out of him!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII. — THE REVELATION. + </h2> + <p> + Having seen his enemy fairly mounted, and under way, as he thought, for + Charlemont, Ned Hinkley returned to Ellisland for his own horse. Here he + did not suffer himself to linger, though, before he could succeed in + taking his departure, he was subjected to a very keen and searching + examination by the village publican and politician. Having undergone this + scrutiny with tolerable patience, if not to the entire satisfaction of the + examiner, he set forward at a free canter, determined that his adversary + should not be compelled to wait. + </p> + <p> + It was only while he rode that he began to fancy the possibility of the + other having taken a different course; but as, upon reflection, he saw no + other plan which he might have adopted—for lynching for suspected + offences was not yet a popular practice in and about Charlemont—he + contented himself with the reflection that he had done all that could have + been done; and if Alfred Stevens failed to keep his appointment, he, at + least, was one of the losers. He would necessarily lose the chance of + revenging an indignity, not to speak of the equally serious loss of that + enjoyment which a manly fight usually gave to Ned Hinkley himself, and + which, he accordingly assumed, must be an equal gratification to all other + persons. When he arrived at Charlemont, he did not make his arrival known, + but, repairing directly to the lake among the hills, he hitched his horse, + and prepared, with what patience he could command, to await the coming of + the enemy. + </p> + <p> + The reader is already prepared to believe that the worthy rustic waited in + vain. It was only with the coming on of night that he began to consider + himself outwitted. He scratched his head impatiently, not without bringing + away some shreds of the hair, jumped on his horse, and, without making + many allowances for the rough and hilly character of the road, went off at + a driving pace for the house of Uncle Hinkley. Here he drew up only to ask + if Brother Stevens had returned. + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “Then, dang it! he never will return. He's a skunk, uncle—as great a + skunk as ever was in all Kentucky!” + </p> + <p> + “How! what!—what of Brother Stevens?” demanded the uncle, seconded + by John Cross, who had only some two hours arrived at the village, and now + appeared at the door. But Ned Hinkley was already off. + </p> + <p> + “He's a skunk!—that's all!” + </p> + <p> + His last words threw very little light over the mystery, and certainly + gave very little satisfaction to his hearers. The absence of Alfred + Stevens, at a time when John Cross was expected, had necessarily + occasioned some surprise; but, of course, no apprehensions were + entertained by either the worthy parson or the bigoted host that he could + be detained by any cause whatsoever which he could not fully justify. + </p> + <p> + The next course of Ned Hinkley was for the cottage of Mr. Calvert. To the + old man he gave a copious detail of all his discoveries—not only the + heads of what he heard from the conspirators in the wood, but something of + the terms of the dialogue. The gravity of Calvert increased as the other + proceeded. He saw more deeply into the signification of certain portions + of this dialogue than did the narrator; and when the latter, after having + expressed his disappointment at the non-appearance of Stevens on the field + of combat, at least congratulated himself at having driven him fairly from + the ground, the other shook his head mournfully. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid it's too late, my son.” + </p> + <p> + “Too late, gran'pa! How? Is it ever too late to send such a rascal + a-packing?” + </p> + <p> + “It may be for the safety of some, my son.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Margaret you mean? You think the poor fool of a girl's too far gone + in love of him, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “If that were all, Ned—” + </p> + <p> + “Why, what more, eh? You don't mean!—” + </p> + <p> + The apprehensions of the simple, unsuspecting fellow, for the first time + began to be awakened to the truth. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, my son, that this wretch has been in Charlemont too long. + From certain words that you have dropped, as coming from Stevens, in + speaking to his comrade, I should regard him as speaking the language of + triumph for successes already gained.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hardly! I didn't think so. If I had only guessed that he meant such a + thing—though I can't believe it—I'd ha' dropped him without a + word. I'd have given him the pacificator as well as the peace-breaker. Oh, + no! I can't think it—I can't—I won't! Margaret Cooper is not a + girl to my liking, but, Lord help us! she's too beautiful and too smart to + suffer such a skunk, in so short a time, to get the whip-hand of her. No, + gran'pa, I can't and won't believe it!” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, Ned, these words which you have repeated convey some such fear to my + mind. It may be that the villain was only boasting to his companion. There + are scoundrels in this world who conceive of no higher subject of boast + than the successful deception and ruin of the artless and confiding. I + sincerely hope that this may be the case now—that it was the mere + brag of a profligate, to excite the admiration of his comrade. But when + you speak of the beauty and the smartness of this poor girl, as of + securities for virtue, you make a great mistake. Beauty is more apt to be + a betrayer than a protector; and as for her talent, that is seldom a + protection unless it be associated with humility. Hers was not. She was + most ignorant where she was most assured. She knew just enough to + congratulate herself that she was unlike her neighbors, and this is the + very temper of mind which is likely to cast down its possessor in shame. I + trust that she had a better guardian angel than either her beauty or her + talents. I sincerely hope that she is safe. At all events, let me caution + you not to hint the possibility of its being otherwise. We will take for + granted that Stevens is a baffled villain.” + </p> + <p> + “I only wish I had dropped him!” + </p> + <p> + “Better as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “What! even if the poor girl is—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, even then!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, gran'pa, can it be possible YOU say so?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my son; I say so here, in moments of comparative calmness, and in + the absence of the villain. Perhaps, were he present, I should say + otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “And DO otherwise! You'd shoot him, gran'pa, as soon as I.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps! I think it likely. But, put up your pistols, Ned. You have + nobody now to shoot. Put them up, and let us walk over to your uncle's at + once. It is proper that he and John Cross should know these particulars.” + </p> + <p> + Ned agreed to go, but not to put up his pistols. + </p> + <p> + “For, you see, gran'pa, this rascal may return. His friend may have kept + him in long talk. We may meet him coming into the village.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not likely; but come along. Give me that staff, my son, and your + arm on the other side. I feel that my eyes are no longer young.” + </p> + <p> + “You could shoot still, gran'pa?” + </p> + <p> + “Not well.” + </p> + <p> + “What, couldn't you hit a chap like Stevens between the eyes at ten paces? + I'm sure I could do it, blindfolded, by a sort of instinct.” + </p> + <p> + And the youth, shutting his eyes, as if to try the experiment, drew forth + one of his pistols from his bosom, and began to direct its muzzle around + the room. + </p> + <p> + “There was a black spider THERE, gran'pa! I'm sure, taking him for + Stevens, I could cut his web for him.” + </p> + <p> + “You have cut that of Stevens himself, and his comb too, Ned.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes—but what a fool I was not to make it his gills!” + </p> + <p> + By this time the old man had got on his spencer, and, with staff in hand, + declared himself in readiness. Ned Hinkley lowered his pistol with + reluctance. He was very anxious to try the weapon and his own aim, on + somebody or something. That black spider which lived so securely in the + domicil of Mr. Calvert would have stood no chance in any apartment of the + widow Hinkley. Even the “pacificator” would have been employed for its + extermination, if, for no other reason, because of the fancied resemblance + which it had always worn to Brother Stevens—a resemblance which + occurred to him, perhaps, in consequence of the supposed similarity + between the arts of the libertine and those for the entrapping of his + victims which distinguish the labors of the spider. + </p> + <p> + The two were soon arrived at old Hinkley's, and the tale of Ned was told; + but, such was the bigotry of the hearers, without securing belief. + </p> + <p> + “So blessed a young man!” said the old lady. + </p> + <p> + “A brand from the burning!” exclaimed Brother Cross. + </p> + <p> + “It's all an invention of Satan!” cried old Hinkley, “to prevent the + consummation of a goodly work.” + </p> + <p> + “We should not give our faith too readily to such devices of the enemy, + Friend Calvert,” said John Cross, paternally. + </p> + <p> + “I never saw anything in him that wasn't perfectly saint-like,” said Mrs. + Hinkley. “He made the most heartfelt prayer, and the loveliest blessing + before meat! I think I hear him now—'Lord, make us thankful'—with + his eyes shut up so sweetly, and with such a voice.” + </p> + <p> + “There are always some people, Brother Cross, to hate the saints of the + Lord and to slander them! They lie in wait like thieves of the night, and + roaring lions of the wilderness, seeking what they may devour.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” exclaimed Brother Cross, “how little do such know that they devour + themselves; for whoso destroyeth his best friend is a devourer of + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “The blindness of Satan is upon them, and they do his work.” + </p> + <p> + And thus—purr, purr, purr—they went on, to the end of the + chapter. Poor Ned Hinkley found the whole kennel was upon him. Not only + did they deny everything that could by possibility affect the fair fame of + the absent brother, but, from defending him, they passed, with an easy + transition, to the denunciation of those who were supposed to be his + defamers. In this the worthy old man Calvert came in for his share. + </p> + <p> + “All this comes of your supporting that worthless boy of mine in defiance + of my will,” said old Hinkley. “You hate Brother Stevens because that boy + hated him, and because I love him.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken, Mr. Hinkley,” said Calvert, mildly. “I hate nobody; at + the same time I suffer no mere prejudices to delude me against sight and + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Brother Cross, gently, “it's that very reason, Brother Calvert, + that ruins you worldlings. You must not rely on human reason. Build on + faith, and you build on the Rock of Ages.” + </p> + <p> + “I propose to use reason only in worldly matters, Mr. Cross,” said the + other; “for which use, only, I believe it was given us. I employ it in + reference to a case of ordinary evidence, and I beg your regards now, + while I draw your attention to the use I make of it in the present + instance. Will you hear me without interruption?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Brother Calvert, but call me not Mr. Cross. I am not a Mister. I + am plain John Cross; by virtue of my business, a brother, if it so please + you to esteem me. Call me Brother Cross, or Brother John Cross, or plain + John Cross, either of these will be acceptable unto me.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all brothers, or should be,” said Calvert; “and it will not need + that there should be any misunderstanding between us on so small a + matter.” + </p> + <p> + “The matter is not small in the eye of the Lord,” said the preacher. + “Titles of vanity become not us, and offend in his hearing.” + </p> + <p> + The old teacher smiled, but proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Brother Cross, if you will hear me, I will proceed, according to my + reason, to dwell upon the proofs which are here presented to you, of the + worthlessness of this man, Alfred Stevens; and when you consider how much + the feelings and the safety of the daughters of your flock depend upon the + character of those moral and religious teachers to whom the care of them + is intrusted, you will see, I think, the necessity of listening patiently, + and determining without religious prejudice, according to the truth and + reason of the case.” + </p> + <p> + “I am prepared to listen patiently, Brother Calvert,” said John Cross, + clasping his hands together, setting his elbows down upon the table, + shutting his eyes, and turning his face fervently up to heaven. Old + Hinkley imitated this posture quite as nearly as he was able; while Mrs. + Hinkley, sitting between the two, maintained a constant to-and-fro motion, + first on one side, then on the other, as they severally spoke to the + occasion, with her head deferentially bowing, like a pendulum, and with a + motion almost as regular and methodical. The movements of her nephew, Ned + Hinkley, were also a somewhat pleasant study, after a fashion of his own. + Sitting in a corner, he amused himself by drawing forth his “puppies,” and + taking occasional aim at a candle or flowerpot; and sometimes, with some + irreverence, at the curved and rather extravagant proboscis of his worthy + uncle, which, cocked up in air, was indeed something of a tempting object + of sight to a person so satisfied of his skill in shooting as the young + rustic. The parties being thus arranged in a fit attitude for listening, + Mr. Calvert began somewhat after the following fashion:— + </p> + <p> + “Our first knowledge of Alfred Stevens was obtained through Brother John + Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “And what better introduction would you have?” demanded old Hinkley. + </p> + <p> + “None,” said the other, “if Brother Cross knew anything about the party he + introduced. But it so happens, as we learn from Brother Cross himself, + that the first acquaintance he had with Stevens was made upon the road, + where Stevens played a trick upon him by giving him brandy to drink.” + </p> + <p> + “No trick, Brother Calvert; the young man gave it me as a medicine, took + it as a medicine himself, and, when I bade him, threw away the accursed + beverage.” + </p> + <p> + “Ordinary men, governed by ordinary reason, Brother Cross, would say that + Stevens knew very well what he was giving you, and that it was a trick.” + </p> + <p> + “But only think, Mr. Calvert,” said Mrs. Hinkley, lifting her hands and + eyes at the same moment, “the blessed young man threw away the evil liquor + the moment he was told to do so. What a sign of meekness was that!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not dwell on this point,” was the reply of Calvert. “He comes into + our village and declares his purpose to adopt the profession of the + preacher, and proceeds to his studies under the direction of Brother + Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “And didn't he study them?” demanded Mrs. Hinkley. “Wasn't he, late and + early, at the blessed volume? I heard him at all hours above stairs. Oh! + how often was he on his bended knees in behalf of our sinful race, + ungrateful and misbelieving that we are!” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, madam,” said Calvert, “that his studies were scarcely so + profound as you think them. Indeed. I am at a loss to conceive how you + should blind your eyes to the fact that the greater part of his time was + spent among the young girls of the village.” + </p> + <p> + “And where is it denied,” exclaimed old Hinkley, “that the lambs of God + should sport together?” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak in that language, I pray you, Mr. Hinkley,” said Calvert, + with something of pious horror in his look; “this young man was no lamb of + God, but, I fear, as you will find, a wolf in the fold. It is, I say, very + well known that he was constantly wandering, even till a late hour of the + night, with one of the village maidens.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was that one, Brother Calvert?” demanded John Cross. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “Hem!” said the preacher. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he quarrels with my young friend, the worthy son of Brother Hinkley—” + </p> + <p> + “Do not speak of that ungrateful cub. Brother Stevens did not quarrel with + him. He quarrelled with Brother Stevens, and would have murdered him, but + that I put in in time to save.” + </p> + <p> + “Say not so, Mr. Hinkley. I have good reason to believe that Stevens went + forth especially to fight with William.” + </p> + <p> + “I would not believe it, if a prophet were to tell me it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, I believe it. We found both of them placed at the usual + fighting-distance.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but where were Brother Stevens's pistols?” + </p> + <p> + “In his pocket, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “He had none. He was at a distance from my ungrateful son, and flying that + he should not be murdered. The lamb under the hands of the butcher. And + would you believe it, Brother Cross, he had gone forth only to counsel the + unworthy boy—only to bring him back into the fold—gone forth + at his own prayer, as Brother Stevens declared to Betsy, just before he + went out.” + </p> + <p> + “I am of opinion that he deceived her and yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were his pistols then?” + </p> + <p> + “He must have concealed them. He told Ned Hinkley, this very day, that he + had pistols, but that they were here.” + </p> + <p> + “Run up, Betsy, to Brother Stevens's room and see.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady disappeared. Calvert proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “I can only repeat my opinion, founded upon the known pacific and + honorable character of William Hinkley, and certain circumstances in the + conduct of Stevens, that the two did go forth, under a previous + arrangement, to fight a duel. That they were prevented, and that Stevens + had no visible weapon, is unquestionably true. But I do not confine myself + to these circumstances. This young man writes a great many letters, it is + supposed to his friends, but never puts them in the post here, but every + Saturday rides off, as we afterward learn, to the village of Ellisland, + where he deposites them and receive others. This is a curious + circumstance, which alone should justify suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “The ways of God are intricate, Brother Calvert,” said John Cross, “and we + are not to suspect the truth which we can not understand.” + </p> + <p> + “But these are the ways of man, Brother Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “And the man of God is governed by the God which is in him. He obeys a law + which, perhaps, is ordered to be hidden from thy sight.” + </p> + <p> + “This doctrine certainly confers very extraordinary privileges upon the + man of God,” said Calvert, quietly, “and, perhaps, this is one reason why + the profession is so prolific of professors now-a-days; but the point does + not need discussion. Enough has been shown to awaken suspicion and doubt + in the case of any ordinary person; and I now come to that portion of the + affair which is sustained by the testimony of Ned Hinkley, our young + friend here, who, whatever his faults may be, has been always regarded in + Charlemont, as a lover and speaker of the truth.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, ay, so far as he knows what the truth is,” said old Hinkley, + scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “And I'm just as likely to know what the truth is as you, uncle!',' + retorted the young man, rising and coming forward from his corner. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come,” he continued, “you're not going to ride rough shod over me + as you did over Cousin Bill. I don't care a snap of the finger, I can tell + you, for all your puffed cheeks and big bellied speeches. I don't, I tell + you!” and suiting the action to the word, the sturdy fellow snapped his + fingers almost under the nose of his uncle, which was now erected + heavenward, with a more scornful pre-eminence than ever. The sudden + entrance of Mrs. Hinkley, from her search after Stevens's pistols, + prevented any rough issue between these new parties, as it seemed to tell + in favor of Stevens. There were no pistols to be found. The old lady did + not add, indeed, that there was nothing of any kind to be found belonging + to the same worthy. + </p> + <p> + “There! That's enough!” said old Hinkley. + </p> + <p> + “Did you find anything of Stevens's, Mrs. Hinkley?” inquired Mr. Calvert. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, whatever.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, madam,” said Calvert, “your search, if it proves anything, proves + the story of Ned Hinkley conclusively. This man has carried off all his + chattels.” + </p> + <p> + John Cross looked down from heaven, and stared inquiringly at Mrs. + Hinkley. + </p> + <p> + “Is this true? Have you found nothing, Sister Betsy?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “And Brother Stevens has not come back?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” + </p> + <p> + “And reason for it, enough,” said old Hinkley. “Didn't you hear that Ned + Hinkley threatened to shoot him if he came back?” + </p> + <p> + “Look you, uncle,” said the person thus accused, “if you was anybody else, + and a little younger, I'd thrash you for that speech the same as if it was + a lie! I would.” + </p> + <p> + “Peace!” said Calvert, looking sternly at the youth. Having obtained + temporary silence, he was permitted at length to struggle through his + narrative, and to place, in their proper lights, all the particulars which + Ned Hinkley had obtained at Ellisland. When this was done the discussion + was renewed, and raged, with no little violence, for a full hour. At + length it ceased through the sheer exhaustion of the parties. Calvert was + the first to withdraw from it, as he soon discovered that such was the + bigotry of old Hinkley and his wife, and even of John Cross himself, that + nothing short of divine revelation could persuade them of the guilt of one + who had once made a religious profession. + </p> + <p> + Brother Cross, though struck with some of the details which Calvert had + given, was afterward prepared to regard them as rather trivial than + otherwise, and poor Ned was doomed to perceive that the conviction was + general in this holy family, that he had, by his violence, and the terror + which his pistols had inspired, driven away, in desperation, the most meek + and saintly of all possible young apostles. The youth was nearly furious + ere the evening and the discussion were over. It was very evident to + Calvert that nothing was needed, should Stevens come back, but a bold + front and a lying tongue, to maintain his position in the estimation of + the flock, until such time as the truth WOULD make itself known—a + thing which, eventually, always happens. That night Ned Hinkley dreamed of + nothing but of shooting Stevens and his comrade and of thrashing his + uncle. What did Margaret Cooper dream of? + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII. — STORM AND CONVULSION. + </h2> + <p> + What did Margaret Cooper dream of? Disappointment, misery, death. There + was a stern presentiment in her waking thoughts, sufficiently keen and + agonizing to inspire such dreadful apprehensions in her dreams. The + temperament which is sanguine, and which, in a lively mood, inspires hope, + is, at the same time, the source of those dark images of thought and + feeling, which appal it with the most terrifying forms of fear; and when + Saturday and Saturday night came and passed, and Alfred Stevens did not + appear, a lurking dread that would not be chidden or kept down, continued + to rise within her soul, which, without assuming any real form or decisive + speech, was yet suggestive of complete overthrow and ruin. + </p> + <p> + Her dreams were of this complexion. She felt herself abandoned. Nor merely + abandoned. She was a victim. In her desolation she had even lost her + pride. She could no longer meet the sneer with scorn. She could no longer + carry a lofty brow among the little circle, who, once having envied, were + now about to despise her. To the impatient spirit, once so strong—so + insolent in its strength—what a pang—what a humiliation was + here! In her dreams she saw the young maidens of the village stand aloof, + as she had once stood aloof from them:—she heard the senseless + titter of their laugh; and she had no courage to resent the impertinence. + Her courage was buried in her shame. No heart is so cowardly as that which + is conscious of guilt. Picture after picture of this sort did her fancy + present to her that night; and when she awoke the next morning, the + sadness of her soul had taken the color of a deep and brooding + misanthropy. Such had been the effect of her dreams. Her resolution came + only from despair; and resolution from such a source, we well know, is + usually only powerful against itself. + </p> + <p> + It is one proof of a religious instinct, and of a universal belief in a + controlling and benevolent Deity, that all men however abased, scornful of + divine and human law, invariably, in their moments of desperation, call + upon God. Their first appeal is, involuntarily, to him. The outlaw, as the + fatal bullet pierces his breast—the infidel, sinking and struggling + in the water—the cold stony heart of the murderer, the miser, the + assassin of reputation as of life—all cry out upon God in the + unexpected paroxysms of death. Let us hope that the instinct which prompts + this involuntary appeal for mercy, somewhat helps to secure its blessings. + It is thus also with one who, in the hey-day of the youthful heart, has + lived without thought or prayer—a tumultuous life of uproar and riot—a + long carnival of the passions—the warm blood suppressing the cool + thought, and making the reckless heart impatient of consideration. Let the + sudden emergency arise, with such a heart—let the blood become + stagnant with disease—and the involuntary appeal is to that God, of + whom before there was no thought. We turn to him as to a father who is + equally strong to help and glad to preserve us. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper, in the ordinary phrase, had lived without God. Her God + was in her own heart, beheld by the lurid fires of an intense, + unmethodized ambition. Her own strength—or rather the persuasion of + her own strength—had been so great, that hitherto she had seen no + necessity for appealing to any other source of power. She might now well + begin to distrust that strength. She did so. Her desperation was not of + that sort utterly to shut out hope; and, while there is hope, there is yet + a moral assurance that the worst is not yet—perhaps not to be. But + she was humbled—not enough, perhaps—but enough to feel the + necessity of calling in her allies. She dropped by her bedside, in prayer, + when she arose that morning. We do not say that she prayed for + forgiveness, without reference to her future earthly desires. Few of us + know how to simplify our demands upon the Deity to this one. We pray that + he may assist us in this or that grand speculation: the planter for a + great crop; the banker for investments that give him fifty per cent.; the + lawyer for more copious fees; the parson for an increase of salary. How + few pray for mercy—forgiveness for the past—strength to + sustain the struggling conscience in the future! Poor Margaret was no + wiser, no better, than the rest of us. She prayed—silly woman!—that + Alfred Stevens might keep his engagement! + </p> + <p> + He did not! That day she was to be married! She had some reference to this + in making her toilet that morning. The garments which she put on were all + of white. A white rose gleamed palely from amid the raven hair upon her + brow. Beautiful was she, exceedingly. How beautiful! but alas! the garb + she wore—the pale, sweet flower on her forehead—they were + mockeries—the emblems of that purity of soul, that innocence of + heart, which were gone—gone for ever! She shuddered as she beheld + the flower, and meditated this thought. Silently she took the flower from + her forehead, and, as if it were precious as that lost jewel of which it + reminded her, she carefully placed it away in her toilet-case. + </p> + <p> + Yet her beauty was heightened rather than diminished. Margaret Cooper was + beautiful after no ordinary mould. Tall in stature, with a frame rounded + by the most natural proportions into symmetry, and so formed for grace; + with a power of muscle more than common among women, which, by inducing + activity, made her movements as easy as they were graceful; with an eye + bright like the morning-star, and with a depth of expression darkly clear, + like that of the same golden orb at night; with a face exquisitely oval; a + mouth of great sweetness; cheeks on which the slightest dash of hue from + the red, red rose in June, might be seen to come and go under the + slightest promptings of the active heart within; a brow of great height + and corresponding expansion; with a bust that impressed you with a sense + of the maternal strength which might be harbored there, even as the + swollen bud gives promises of the full-bosomed luxuriance of the flower + when it opens: add to these a lofty carriage, a look where the quickened + spirit seems ever ready for utterance; a something of eager solemnity in + her speech; and a play of expression on her lips which, if the brow were + less lofty and the eye less keenly bright, might be a smile—and you + have some idea of that noble and lovely temple on which fires of lava had + been raised by an unholy hand; in which a secret worship is carried on + which dreads the light, shrinks from exposure, and trembles to be seen by + the very Deity whose favor it yet seeks in prayer and apprehension. + </p> + <p> + These beauties of person as we have essayed, though most feebly, to + describe them, were enhanced rather than lessened by that air of anxiety + by which they were now overcast. Her step was no longer free. It was + marked by an unwonted timidity. Her glance was no longer confident; and + when she looked round upon the faces of the young village-maidens, it was + seen that her lip trembled and moved, but no longer with scorn. If the + truth were told, she now envied the meanest of those maidens that security + which her lack of beauty had guarantied. She, the scorner of all around + her, now envied the innocence of the very meanest of her companions. + </p> + <p> + Such was the natural effect of her unhappy experience upon her heart. What + would she not have given to be like one of them? She dared not take her + place, in the church, among them. It was a dread that kept her back. + Strange, wondrous power of innocence! The guilty girl felt that she might + be repulsed; that her frailty might make itself known—MUST make + itself known; and she would be driven with shame from that communion with + the pure to which she had no longer any claim! She sunk into one of the + humblest seats in the church, drawing her reluctant mother into the lowly + place beside her. + </p> + <p> + John Cross did not that day address himself to her case: but sin has a + family similitude among all its members. There is an unmistakeable + likeness, which runs through the connection. If the preacher speaks + fervently to one sin, he is very apt to goad, in some degree, all the + rest: and though Brother Cross had not the most distant idea of singling + out Margaret Cooper for his censure, yet there was a whispering devil at + her elbow that kept up a continual commentary upon what he said, filling + her ears with a direct application of every syllable to her own peculiar + instance. + </p> + <p> + “See you not,” said the demon, “that every eye is turned upon you? He sees + into your soul; he knows your secret. He declares it, as you hear, aloud, + with a voice of thunder, to all the congregation. Do you not perceive that + you sit alone; that everybody shrinks from your side; that your miserable + old mother alone sits with you; that the eyes of some watch you with pity, + but more with indignation? Look at the young damsels—late your + companions—they are your companions no longer! They triumph in your + shame. Their titter is only suppressed because of the place in which they + are. They ask: 'Is this the maiden who was so wise, so strong—who + scorned us—scorned US, indeed!—and was not able to baffle the + serpent in his very first approaches?' Ha! ha! How they laugh! Well, + indeed, they may. It is very laughable, Margaret—not less laughable + and amusing than strange!—that YOU should have fallen!—so + easily, so blindly—and not even to suspect what every one else was + sure of! O Margaret! Margaret! can it be true? Who will believe in your + wit now, your genius, your beauty? Smutched and smutted! Poor, weak, + degraded! If there is pity for you, Margaret, it is full of mockery too; + it is a pity that is full of bitterness. You should now cast yourself + down, and cover yourself with ashes, and cry, 'Wo is me!' and call upon + the rocks and the hills to cover you!” + </p> + <p> + Such was the voice in her soul, which to HER senses seemed like that of + some jibing demon at her elbow. Margaret tried to pray—to expel him + by prayer; but the object of his mockery had not been attained. She could + not surrender herself entirely to the chastener. She was scourged, but not + humbled; and the language of the demon provoked defiance, not humility. + Her proud spirit rose once more against the pressure put upon it. Her + bright, dazzling eye flashed in scorn upon the damsels whom she now + fancied to be actually tittering—scarcely able to suppress their + laughter—at her obvious disgrace. On John Cross she fixed her + fearless eye, like that of some fallen angel, still braving the chastener, + whom he can not contend with. A strange strength—for even sin has + its strength for a season—came to her relief in that moment of + fiendish mockery. The strength of an evil spirit was accorded her. Her + heart once more swelled with pride. Her soul once more insisted on its + ascendency. She felt, though she did not say:— + </p> + <p> + “Even as I am, overthrown, robbed of my treasure, I feel that I am + superior to these. I feel that I have strength against the future. If they + are pure and innocent, it is not because of their greater strength, but + their greater obscurity. If I am overthrown by the tempter, it was because + I was the more worthy object of overthrow. In their littleness they live: + if I am doomed to the shaft, at least it will be as the eagle is doomed; + it will be while soaring aloft—while aiming for the sun—while + grasping at the very bolt by which I am destroyed!” + </p> + <p> + Such was the consolation offered by the twin-demons of pride and vanity. + The latter finds its aliment in the heart which it too completely + occupies, even from those circumstances which, in other eyes, make its + disgrace and weakness. The sermon which had touched her sin had not + subdued it. Perhaps no sermon, no appeal, however powerful and touching, + could at that moment have had power over her. The paroxysm of her first + consciousness of ruin had not yet passed off. The condition of mind was + not yet reached in which an appeal could be felt. + </p> + <p> + As in the case of physical disease, so with that of the mind and heart, + there is a period when it is neither useful nor prudent to administer the + medicines which are yet most necessary to safety. The judicious physician + will wait for the moment when the frame is prepared—when the pulse + is somewhat subdued—before he tries the most powerful remedy. The + excitement of the wrong which she had suffered was still great in her + bosom. It was necessary that she should have repose. That excitement was + maintained by the expectation that Stevens would yet make his appearance. + Her eye, at intervals, wandered over the assembly in search of him. The + demon at her elbow understood her quest. + </p> + <p> + “He will not come,” it said; “you look in vain. The girls follow your + eyes; they behold your disappointment; they laugh at your credulity. If he + leads any to the altar, think you it will be one whom he could command at + pleasure without any such conditions—one who, in her wild passions + and disordered vanity, could so readily yield to his desires, without + demanding any corresponding sacrifices? Margaret, they laugh now at those + weaknesses of a mind which they once feared if not honored. They wonder, + now, that they could have been so deceived. If they do not laugh aloud, + Margaret, it is because they would spare your shame. Indeed, indeed, they + pity you!” + </p> + <p> + The head of the desperate, but still haughty woman, was now more proudly + uplifted, and her eyes shot forth yet fiercer fires of indignation. What a + conflict was going on in her bosom. Her cheeks glowed with the strife—her + breast heaved; with difficulty she maintained her seat inflexibly, and + continued, without other signs of discomposure, until the service was + concluded. Her step was more stately than ever as she walked from church; + and while her mother lingered behind to talk with Brother Cross, and to + exchange the sweetest speeches with the widow Thackeray and others, she + went on alone—seeing none, heeding none—dreading to meet any + face lest it should wear a smile and look the language in which the demon + at her side still dealt. HE still clung to her, with the tenacity of a + fiendish purpose. He mocked her with her shame, goading her, with dart + upon dart, of every sort of mockery. Truly did he mutter in her ears:— + </p> + <p> + “Stevens has abandoned you. Never was child, before yourself, so silly as + to believe such a promise as he made you. Do you doubt?—do you still + hope? It is madness? Why came he not yesterday—last night—to-day? + He is gone. He has abandoned you. You are not only alone—you are + lost! lost for ever!” + </p> + <p> + The tidings of this unsolicited attendant were confirmed the next day, by + the unsuspecting John Cross. He came to visit Mrs. Cooper and her daughter + among the first of his parishioners. He had gathered from the villagers + already that Stevens had certainly favored Miss Cooper beyond all the rest + of the village damsels. Indeed, it was now generally bruited that he was + engaged to her in marriage. Though the worthy preacher had very stoutly + resisted the suggestions of Mr. Calvert, and the story of Ned Hinkley, he + was yet a little annoyed by them; and he fancied that, if Stevens were, + indeed, engaged to Margaret, she, or perhaps the old lady, might relieve + his anxiety by accounting for the absence of his protege. The notion of + Brother John was, that, having resolved to marry the maiden, he had + naturally gone home to apprize his parents and to make the necessary + preparations. + </p> + <p> + But this conjecture brought with it a new anxiety. It, now, for the first + time, seemed something strange that Stevens had never declared to himself, + or to anybody else who his parents were—what they were—where + they were—what business they pursued; or anything about them. Of his + friends, they knew as little. The simple old man had never thought of + these things, until the propriety of such inquiries was forced upon him by + the conviction that they would now be made in vain. The inability to + answer them, when it was necessary that an answer should be found, was a + commentary upon his imprudence which startled the good old man not a + little. But, in the confident hope that a solution of the difficulty could + be afforded by the sweetheart or the mother, he proceeded to her cottage. + Of course, Calvert, in his communication to him, had forborne those darker + conjectures which he could not help but entertain; and his simple auditor, + unconscious himself of any thought of evil, had never himself formed any + such suspicions. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper was in her chamber when Brother Cross arrived. She had + lost that elasticity of temper which would have carried her out at that + period among the hills in long rambles, led by those wild, wooing + companions, which gambol along the paths of poetic contemplation. The old + man opened his stores of scandal to Mrs. Cooper with little or no + hesitation. He told her all that Calvert had said, all that Ned Hinkley + had fancied himself to have heard, and all the village tattle touching the + engagement supposed to exist between Stevens and her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, Sister Cooper,” said he, “I believe nothing of this sort + against the youth. I should be sorry to think it of one whom I plucked as + a brand from the burning. I hold Brother Stevens to be a wise young man + and a pious; and truly I fear, as indeed I learn, that there is in the + mind of Ned Hinkley a bitter dislike to the youth, because of some quarrel + which Brother Stevens is said to have had with William Hinkley. This + dislike hath made him conceive evil things of Brother Stevens and to + misunderstand and to pervert some conversation which he hath overheard + which Stevens hath had with his companion. Truly, indeed, I think that + Alfred Stevens is a worthy youth of whom we shall hear a good account.” + </p> + <p> + “And I think so too, Brother Cross. Brother Stevens will be yet a burning + and a shining light in the church. There is a malice against him; and I + think I know the cause, Brother Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! this will be a light unto our footsteps, Sister Cooper.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou knowest, Brother Cross,” resumed the old lady in a subdued tone but + with a loftier elevation of eyebrows and head—“thou knowest the + great beauty of my daughter Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “The maiden is comely, sister, comely among the maidens; but beauty is + grass. It is a flower which blooms at morning and is cut down in the + evening. It withereth on the stalk where it bloomed, until men turn from + it with sickening and with sorrow, remembering what it hath been. Be not + boastful of thy daughter's beauty, Sister Cooper, it is the beauty of + goodness alone which dieth not.” + </p> + <p> + “But said I not, Brother Cross, of her wisdom, and her wit, as well as her + beauty?” replied the old lady with some little pique. “I was forgetful of + much, if I spoke only of the beauty of person which Margaret Cooper surely + possesseth, and which the eyes of blindness itself might see.” + </p> + <p> + “Dross, dross all, Sister Cooper. The wit of man is a flash which blindeth + and maketh dark; and the wisdom of man is a vain thing. The one crackleth + like thorns beneath the pot—the other stifleth the heart and keepeth + down the soul from her true flight. I count the wit and wisdom of thy + daughter even as I count her beauty. She hath all, I think—as they + are known to and regarded by men. But all is nothing. Beauty hath a day's + life like the butterfly; wit shineth like the sudden flash of the + lightning, leaving only the cloud behind it; and oh! for the vain wisdom + of man which makes him vain and unsteady—likely to falter—liable + to fall—rash in his judgment—erring in his aims—blind to + his duty—wilful in his weakness—insolent to his fellow—presumptuous + in the sight of God. Talk not to me of worldly wisdom. It is the foe to + prayer and meekness. The very fruit of the tree which brought sin and + death into the world. Thy daughter is fair to behold—very fair among + the maidens of our flock—none fairer, none so fair: God hath + otherwise blessed her with a bright mind and a quick intelligence; but I + think not that she is wise to salvation. No, no! she hath not yearned to + the holy places of the tabernacle, unless it be that Brother Stevens hath + been more blessed in his ministry than I!” + </p> + <p> + “And he hath!” exclaimed the mother. “I tell you, Brother John, the heart + of Margaret Cooper is no longer what it was. It is softened. The toils of + Brother Stevens have not been in vain. Blessed young man, no wonder they + hate and defame him. He hath had a power over Margaret Cooper such as man + never had before; and it is for this reason that Bill Hinkley and Ned + conspired against him, first to take his life, and then to speak evil of + his deeds. They beheld the beauty of my daughter, and they looked on her + with famishing eyes. She sent them a-packing, I tell you. But this youth, + Brother Stevens, found favor in her heart. They beheld the two as they + went forth together. Ah! Brother John, it is the sweetest sight to behold + two young, loving people walk forth in amity—born, as it would seem, + for each other; both so tall, and young, and handsome; walking together + with such smiles, as if there was no sorrow in the world; as if there was + nothing but flowers and sweetness on the path; as if they could see + nothing but one another; and as if there were no enemies looking on. It + did my heart good to see them, Brother Cross; they always looked so happy + with one another.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think, Sister Cooper, that Brother Stevens hath agreed to take + Margaret to wife?” + </p> + <p> + “She hath not told me this yet, but in truth, I think it hath very nigh + come to that.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” + </p> + <p> + “In her chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “Call her hither, Sister Cooper; let us ask of her the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper was summoned, and descended with slow steps and an + unwilling spirit to meet their visiter. + </p> + <p> + “Daughter,” said the good old man, taking her hand, and leading her to a + seat, “thou art, even as thy mother sayest, one of exceeding beauty. Few + damsels have ever met mine eyes with a beauty like to thine. No wonder the + young men look on thee with eyes of love; but let not the love of youth + betray thee. The love of God is the only love that is precious to the + heart of wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, the old man gazed on her with as much admiration as was + consistent with the natural coldness of his temperament, his years, and + his profession. His address, so different from usual, had a soothing + effect upon her. A sigh escaped her, but she said nothing. He then + proceeded to renew the history which had been given to him and which he + had already detailed to her mother. She heard him with patience, in spite + of all his interpolations from Scripture, his ejaculations, his running + commentary upon the narrative, and the numerous suggestive topics which + took him from episode to episode, until the story seemed interminably + mixed up in the digression. + </p> + <p> + But when he came to that portion which related to the adventure of Ned + Hinkley, to his espionage, the conference of Stevens with his companion—then + she started—then her breathing became suspended, then quickened—then + again suspended—and then, so rapid in its rush, that her emotion + became almost too much for her powers of suppression. + </p> + <p> + But she did suppress it, with a power, a resolution, not often paralleled + among men—still more seldom among women. After the first spasmodic + acknowledgment given by her surprise, she listened with comparative + calmness. She, alone, had the key to that conversation. She, alone, knew + its terrible signification. She knew that Ned Hinkley was honest—was + to be believed—that he was too simple, and too sincere, for any such + invention; and, sitting with hands clasped upon that chair—the only + attitude which expressed the intense emotion which she felt—she + gazed with unembarrassed eye upon the face of the speaker, while every + word which he spoke went like some keen, death-giving instrument into her + heart. + </p> + <p> + The whole dreadful history of the villany of Stevens, her irreparable ruin—was + now clearly intelligible. The mocking devil at her elbow had spoken + nothing but the truth. She was indeed the poor victim of a crafty villain. + In the day of her strength and glory she had fallen—fallen, fallen, + fallen! + </p> + <p> + “Why am I called to hear this?” she demanded with singular composure. + </p> + <p> + The old man and the mother explained in the same breath—that she + might reveal the degree of intercourse which had taken place between them, + and, if possible, account for the absence of her lover. That, in short, + she might refute the malice of enemies and establish the falsehood of + their suggestions. + </p> + <p> + “You wish to know if I believe this story of Ned Hinkley?” + </p> + <p> + “Even so, my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I do!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! what is it you say, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “The truth.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” demanded the preacher, “you can not surely mean that Brother + Stevens hath been a wolf in sheep's clothing—that he hath been a + hypocrite.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” thought Margaret Cooper—“have I not been my own worst enemy—did + I not know him to be this from the first?” + </p> + <p> + Her secret reflection remained, however, unspoken. She answered the demand + of John Cross without a moment's hesitation. + </p> + <p> + “I believe that Alfred Stevens is all that he is charged to be—a + hypocrite—a wolf in sheep's clothing!—I see no reason to doubt + the story of Ned Hinkley. He is an honest youth.” + </p> + <p> + The old lady was in consternation. The preacher aghast and confounded. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Margaret,” said the former, “hath he not engaged himself to you? + Did he not promise—is he not sworn to be your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “I have already given you my belief. I see no reason to say anything more. + What more do you need? Is he not gone—fled—has he not failed—” + </p> + <p> + She paused abruptly, while a purple flush went over her face. She rose to + retire. + </p> + <p> + “Margaret!” exclaimed the mother. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter!” said John Cross. + </p> + <p> + “Speak out what you know—tell us all—” + </p> + <p> + “No! I will say no more. You know enough already. I tell you, I believe + Alfred Stevens to be a hypocrite and a villain. Is not that enough? What + is it to you whether he is so or not? What is it to me, at least? You do + not suppose that it is anything to me? Why should you? What should he be? + I tell you he is nothing to me—nothing—nothing—nothing! + Villain or hypocrite, or what not—he is no more to me than the earth + on which I tread. Let me hear no more about him, I pray you. I would not + hear his name! Are there not villains enough in the world, that you should + think and speak of one only?” + </p> + <p> + With these vehement words she left the room, and hurried to her chamber. + She stopped suddenly before the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “And is it thus!” she exclaimed—“and I am—” + </p> + <p> + The mother by this time had followed her into the room. + </p> + <p> + “What is the meaning of this, Margaret?—tell me!” cried the old + woman in the wildest agitation. + </p> + <p> + “What should it be, mother? Look at me!—in my eyes—do they not + tell you? Can you not read?” + </p> + <p> + “I see nothing—I do not understand you, Margaret.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed! but you shall understand me! I thought my face would tell you + without my words. <i>I</i> see it there, legible enough, to myself. Look + again!—spare me if you can—spare your own ears the necessity + of hearing me speak!” + </p> + <p> + “You terrify me, Margaret—I fear you are out of your mind. + </p> + <p> + “No! no! that need not be your fear; nor, were it true, would it be a fear + of mine. It might be something to hope—to pray for. It might bring + relief. Hear me, since you will not see. You ask me why I believe Stevens + to be a villain. I KNOW it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! how know it!” + </p> + <p> + “How! How should I know it? Well, I see that I must speak. Listen then. + You bade me seek and make a conquest of him, did you not? Do not deny it, + mother—you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I did?” + </p> + <p> + “I succeeded! Without trying, I succeeded! He declared to me his love—he + did!—he promised to marry me. He was to have married me yesterday—to + have met me in church and married me. John Cross was to have performed the + ceremony. Well! you saw me there—you saw me in white—the dress + of a bride!—Did he come? Did you see him there? Did you see the + ceremony performed?” + </p> + <p> + “No, surely not—you know without asking.” + </p> + <p> + “I know without asking!—surely I do!—but look you, mother—do + you think that conquests are to be made, hearts won, loves confessed, + pledges given, marriage-day fixed—do these things take place, as + matters of pure form? Is there no sensation—no agitation—no + beating and violence about the heart—in the blood—in the + brain! I tell you there is—a blinding violence, a wild, stormy, + sensation—fondness, forgetfulness, madness! I say, madness! madness! + madness!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my daughter, what can all this mean? Speak calmly, be deliberate!” + </p> + <p> + “Calm! deliberate! What a monster if I could be! But I am not mad now. I + will tell you what it means. It means that, in taking captive Alfred + Stevens—in winning a lover—securing that pious young man—there + was some difficulty, some peril. Would you believe it?—there were + some privileges which he claimed. He took me in his arms. Ha! ha! He held + me panting to his breast. His mouth filled mine with kisses—” + </p> + <p> + “No more, do not say more, my child!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, more! more! much more! I tell you—then came blindness and + madness, and I was dishonored—made a woman before I was made a wife! + Ruined, lost, abused, despised, abandoned! Ha! ha! ha! no marriage + ceremony. Though I went to the church. No bridegroom there, though he + promised to come. Preacher, church, bride, all present, yet no wedding. + Ha! ha! ha! How do I know!—Good reason for it, good reason—Ha! + ha!—ah!” + </p> + <p> + The paroxysm, terminated in a convulsion. The unhappy girl fell to the + floor as if stricken in the forehead. The blood gushed from her mouth and + nostrils, and she lay insensible in the presence of the terrified and + miserable mother. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV. — THE FATES FIND THE DAGGER AND THE BOWL. + </h2> + <p> + For a long time she lay without showing any signs of life. Her passions + rebelled against the restraint which her mind had endeavored to put upon + them. Their concentrated force breaking all bonds, so suddenly, was like + the terrific outburst of the boiling lava from the gorges of the frozen + mountain. Believing her dead, the mother rushed headlong into the highway, + rending the village with her screams. She was for the time a perfect + madwoman. The neighbors gathered to her assistance. That much-abused + woman, the widow Thackeray, was the first to come. Never was woman's + tenderness more remarkable than hers—never was woman's watch by the + bed of sickness and suffering—that watch which woman alone knows so + well how to keep—more rigidly maintained than by her! From the first + hour of that agony under which Margaret Cooper fell to earth insensible, + to the last moment in which her recovery was doubtful, that widow + Thackeray—whose passion for a husband had been described by Mrs. + Cooper as so very decided and evident—maintained her place by the + sick bed of the stricken girl with all the affection of a mother. Widow + Thackeray was a woman who could laugh merrily, but she could shed tears + with equal readiness. These were equally the signs of prompt feeling and + nice susceptibility; and the proud Margaret, and her invidious mother, + were both humbled by that spontaneous kindness for which, hitherto, they + had given the possessor so very little credit, and to which they were now + equally so greatly indebted. + </p> + <p> + Medical attendance was promptly secured. Charlemont had a very clever + physician of the old school. He combined as was requisite in the forest + region of our country, the distinct offices of the surgeon and mediciner. + He was tolerably skilful in both departments. He found his patient in a + condition of considerable peril. She had broken a blood-vessel; and the + nicest care and closest attendance were necessary to her preservation. It + will not need that we should go through the long and weary details which + followed to her final cure. Enough, that she did recover. But for weeks + her chance was doubtful. She lay for that space of time, equally in the + arms of life and death. For a long period, she herself was unconscious of + her situation. + </p> + <p> + When she came to know, the skill of her attendants derived very little aid + from her consciousness. Her mind was unfavorable to her cure; and this, by + the way, is a very important particular in the fortunes of the sick. To + despond, to have a weariness of life, to forbear hope as well as exertion, + is, a hundred to one, to determine against the skill of the physician. + Margaret Cooper felt a willingness to die. She felt her overthrow in the + keenest pangs of its shame; and, unhappily, the mother, in her madness, + had declared it. + </p> + <p> + The story of her fall—of the triumph of the serpent—was now + the village property, and of course put an end to all further doubts on + the score of the piety of Brother Stevens; though, by way of qualification + of his offence, old Hinkley insisted that it was the fault of the poor + damsel. + </p> + <p> + “She,” he said, “had tempted him—had thrown herself in his way—had + been brazen,” and all that, of which so much is commonly said in all + similar cases. We, who know the character of the parties, and have traced + events from the beginning, very well know how little of this is true. Poor + Margaret was a victim before she was well aware of those passions which + made her so. She was the victim not of lust but of ambition. Never was + woman more unsophisticated—less moved by unworthy and sinister + design. She had her weaknesses—her pride, her vanity; and her + passions, which were tremendous, worked upon through these, very soon + effected her undoing. But, for deliberate purpose of evil—of any + evil of which her own intellect was conscious—the angels were not + more innocent. + </p> + <p> + But mere innocence of evil design, in any one particular condition, is not + enough for security. We are not only to forbear evil; virtue requires that + we should be exercised for the purposes of good. She lacked the moral + strength which such exercises, constantly pursued, would have assured her. + She was a creature of impulse only, not of reflection. Besides, she was + ignorant of her particular weaknesses. She was weak where she thought + herself strong. This is always the error of a person having a very decided + will. The will is constantly mistaken for the power. She could not humble + herself, and in her own personal capacities—capacities which had + never before been subjected to any ordeal-trial—she relied for the + force which was to sustain her in every situation. Fancy a confident + country-girl—supreme in her own district over the Hobs and Hinnies + thereabouts—in conflict with the adroit man of the world, and you + have the whole history of Margaret Cooper, and the secret of her + misfortune. Let the girl have what natural talent you please, and the case + is by no means altered. She must fall if she seeks or permits the + conflict. She can only escape by flight. It is in consideration of this + human weakness, that we pray God, nightly, not to suffer us to be exposed + to temptation. + </p> + <p> + When the personal resources of her own experience and mind failed Margaret + Cooper, as at some time or other they must fail all who trust only in + them, she had no further reliance. She had never learned to draw equal + strength and consolation from the sweet counsels of the sacred volume. + Regarding the wild raving and the senseless insanity, which are but too + frequently the language of the vulgar preacher, as gross ignorance and + debasing folly, she committed the unhappy error of confounding the + preacher with his cause. She had never been taught to make an habitual + reference to religion; and her own experience of life, had never forced + upon her those sage reflections which would have shown her that TRUE + religion is the very all of life, and without it life has nothing. The + humility of the psalmist, which was the real source of all the strength + allotted to the monarch minstrel, was an unread lesson with her; and never + having been tutored to refer to God, and relying upon her own proud mind + and daring imagination, what wonder that these frail reeds should pierce + her side while giving way beneath her. + </p> + <p> + It was this very confidence in her own strength—this fearlessness of + danger (and we repeat the lesson here, emphatically, by way of warning)—a + confidence which the possession of a quick and powerful mind naturally + enough inspires—that effected her undoing. It was not by the force + of her affections that she fell. THE AFFECTIONS ARE NOT APT TO BE STRONG + IN A WOMAN WHOSE MIND LEADS HER OUT FROM HER SEX! + </p> + <p> + The seducer triumphed through the medium of her vanity. Her feeling of + self-assurance had been thus active from childhood, and conspicuous in all + her sports and employments. SHE HAD NEVER BEEN A CHILD HERSELF. SHE LED + ALWAYS IN THE PASTIMES OF HER PLAYMATES, MANY OF WHOM WERE OLDER THAN + HERSELF. + </p> + <p> + She had no fears when others trembled; and, if she did not, at any time, + so far transcend the bounds of filial duty as to defy the counsels of her + parents, it was certainly no less true that she never sought for, and + seldom seemed to need them. IT IS DANGEROUS WHEN THE WOMAN, THROUGH SHEER + CONFIDENCE IN HER OWN STRENGTH, VENTURES UPON THE VERGE OF THE MORAL + PRECIPICE. THEY VERY EXPERIMENTAL, WHERE THE PASSIONS ARE CONCERNED, + PROVES HER TO BE LOST. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper, confident in her own footsteps, soon learned to despise + every sort of guardianship. The vanity of her mother had not only + counselled and stimulated her own, but was of that gross and silly order, + as to make itself offensive to the judgment of the girl herself. This had + the effect of losing her all the authority of a parent; and we have + already seen, in the few instances where this authority took the shape of + counsel, that its tendency was to evil rather than to good. + </p> + <p> + The arts of Alfred Stevens had, in reality, been very few. It was only + necessary that he should read the character of his victim. This, as an + experienced worldling—experienced in such a volume—he was soon + very able to do. He saw enough to discover, that, while Margaret Cooper + was endowed by nature with an extraordinary measure of intellect, she was + really weak because of its possession. In due proportion to the degree of + exercise to which she subjected her mere mind—making that busy and + restless—was the neglect of her sensibilities—those nice + ANTENNAE OF THE HEART. + </p> + <p> + “Whose instant touches, slightest pause,” + </p> + <p> + teach the approach of the smallest forms of danger, however inoffensive + their shapes, however unobtrusive their advance. When the sensibilities + are neglected and suffered to fall into disrepute, they grow idle first, + and finally obtuse! even as the limb which you forbear to exercise loses + its muscle, and withers into worthlessness. + </p> + <p> + When Alfred Stevens discovered this condition, his plan was simple enough. + He had only to stimulate her mind into bolder exercise—to conduct it + to topics of the utmost hardihood—to inspire that sort of moral + recklessness which some people call courage—which delights to sport + along the edge of the precipice, and to summon audacious spirits from the + great yawning gulfs which lie below. This practice is always pursued at + the expense of those guardian feelings which keep watch over the virtues + of the tender heart. + </p> + <p> + The analysis of subjects commonly forbidden to the sex, necessarily tends + to make dull those habitual sentinels over the female conduct. These + sentinels are instincts rather than principles. Education can take them + away, but does not often confer them. When, through the arts of Alfred + Stevens, Margaret Cooper was led to discuss, perhaps to despise, those + nice and seemingly purposeless barriers which society—having the + experience of ages for its authority—has wisely set up between the + sexes—she had already taken a large stride toward passing them. But + of this, which a judicious education would have taught her, she was wholly + ignorant. Her mind was too bold to be scrupulous; too adventurous to be + watchful; and if, at any moment, a pause in her progress permitted her to + think of the probable danger to her sex of such adventurous freedom, she + certainly never apprehended it in her own case. Such restraints she + conceived to be essential only for the protection of THE WEAK among her + sex. Her vanity led her to believe that she was strong; and the approaches + of the sapper were conducted with too much caution, with a progress too + stealthy and insensible, to startle the ear or attract the eye of the + unobservant, yet keen-eyed guardian of her citadel. An eagle perched upon + a rock, with wing outspread for flight, and an eye fixed upon the rolling + clouds through which it means to dart, is thus heedless of the coiled + serpent which lies beneath its feet. + </p> + <p> + The bold eye of Margaret Cooper was thus heedless. Gazing upon the sun, + she saw not the serpent at her feet. It was not because she slept: never + was eye brighter, more far-stretching; never was mind more busy, more + active, than that of the victim at the very moment when she fell. It was + because she watched the remote, not the near—the region in which + there was no enemy, nothing but glory—and neglected that post which + is always in danger. Her error is that of the general who expends his army + upon some distant province, leaving his chief city to the assault and sack + of the invader. + </p> + <p> + We have dwelt somewhat longer upon the moral causes which, in our story, + have produced such cruel results, than the mere story itself demands; but + no story is perfectly moral unless the author, with a wholesome + commentary, directs the attention of the reader to the true weaknesses of + his hero, to the point where his character fails; to the causes of this + failure, and the modes in which it may be repaired or prevented. In this + way alone may the details of life and society be properly welded together + into consistent doctrine, so that instruction may keep pace with delight, + and the heart and mind be informed without being conscious of any of those + tasks which accompany the lessons of experience. + </p> + <p> + To return now to our narrative. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper lived! She might as well have died. This was HER thought, + at least. She prayed for death. Was it in mercy that her prayer was + denied? We shall see! Youth and a vigorous constitution successfully + resisted the attacks of the assailant. They finally obtained the victory. + After a weary spell of bondage and suffering, she recovered. But she + recovered only to the consciousness of a new affliction. All the + consequences of her fatal lapse from virtue have not yet been told. She + bore within her an indelible witness of her shame. She was destined to be + a mother without having been a wife! + </p> + <p> + This, to her mother at least, was a more terrible discovery than the + former. She literally cowered and crouched beneath it. It was the WRITTEN + shame, rather than the actual, which the old woman dreaded. She had been + so vain, so criminally vain, of her daughter—she had made her so + constantly the subject of her brag—that, unwitting of having + declared the whole melancholy truth, in the first moment of her madness, + she shrank, with an unspeakable horror, from the idea that the little + world in which she lived should become familiar with the whole cruel + history of her overthrow. She could scarcely believe it herself though the + daughter, with an anguish in her eyes that left little to be told, had + herself revealed the truth. Her pride as well as her life, was linked with + the pride and the beauty of her child. She had shared in her constant + triumphs over all around her; and overlooking, as a fond, foolish mother + is apt to do, all her faults of temper or of judgment, she had learned to + behold nothing but her superiority. And now to see her fallen! a thing of + scorn, which was lately a thing of beauty!—the despised, which was + lately the worshipped and the wondered at! No wonder that her weak, vain + heart was crushed and humbled, and her head bowed in sorrow to the earth. + She threw herself upon the floor, and wept bitter and scalding tears. + </p> + <p> + The daughter had none. Without sob or sigh, she stooped down and tenderly + assisted the old woman to rise. Why had she no tears? She asked herself + this question, but in vain. Her external emotions promised none. Indeed, + she seemed to be without emotions. A weariness and general indifference to + all things was now the expression of her features. But this was the + deceitful aspect of the mountain, on whose breast contemplation sits with + silence, unconscious of the tossing flame which within is secretly fusing + the stubborn metal and the rock. Anger was in her breast—feelings of + hate mingled up with shame—scorn of herself, scorn of all—feelings + of defiance and terror, striving at mastery; and, in one corner, a + brooding image of despair, kept from the brink of the precipice only by + the entreaties of some fiercer principle of hate. She felt life to be + insupportable. Why did she live? This question came to her repeatedly. The + demon was again at work beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Die!” said he. “It is but a blow—a moment's pang—the driving + a needle into an artery—the prick of a pin upon the heart. Die! it + will save you from exposure—the shame of bringing into the world an + heir of shame! What would you live for? The doors of love, and fame, even + of society, are shut against you for ever. What is life to you now? a long + denial—a protracted draught of bitterness—the feeling of a + death-spasm carried on through sleepless years; perhaps, under a curse of + peculiar bitterness, carried on even into age! Die! you can not be so base + as to wish for longer life!” + </p> + <p> + The arguments of the demon were imposing. His suggestions seemed to + promise the relief she sought. Hers seemed the particular case where the + prayer is justified which invokes the mountains and the rocks upon the + head of the guilty. But the rock refused to fall, the mountain to cover + her shame, and its exposure became daily more and more certain. Death was + the only mode of escape from the mountain of pain which seemed to rest + upon her heart. The means of self-destruction were easy. With a spirit so + impetuous as hers, to imagine was to determine. She did determine. Yet, + even while making so terrible a resolve, a singular calm seemed to + overspread her soul. She complained of nothing—wished for nothing—sought + for nothing—trembled at nothing. A dreadful lethargy, which made the + old mother declaim as against a singular proof of hardihood, possessed her + spirit. Little did the still-idolizing mother conjecture how much that + lethargy concealed! + </p> + <p> + The moment that Margaret Cooper conceived the idea of suicide, it + possessed all her mind. It became the one only thought. There were few + arguments against it, and these she rapidly dismissed or overcame. To + leave her mother in her old age was the first which offered itself; but + this became a small consideration when she reflected that the latter could + not, under any circumstances, require her assistance very long; and to + spare her the shame of public exposure was another consideration. The + evils of the act to herself were reduced with equal readiness to the + transition from one state to another by a small process, which, whether by + the name of stab or shot, was productive only of a momentary spasm; for, + though as fully persuaded of the soul's immortality as the best of us, the + unhappy girl, like all young free-thinkers, had persuaded herself that, in + dying by her own hands, she was simply exercising a discretionary power + under the conviction that her act in doing so was rendered by + circumstances a judicious one. The arguments by which she deceived herself + are sufficiently commonplace, and too easy of refutation, to render + necessary any discussion of them here. Enough to state the fact. She + deliberately resolved upon the fatal deed which was to end her life and + agony together, and save her from that more notorious exposure which must + follow the birth of that child of sin whom she deemed it no more than a + charity to destroy. + </p> + <p> + There was an old pair of pistols in the house, which had been the property + of her father. She had often, with a boldness not common to the sex, + examined these pistols. They were of brass, well made, of English + manufacture, with common muzzles, and a groove for a sight instead of the + usual drop. They were not large, but, in a practised hand, were good + travelling-pistols, being capable of bringing down a man at twelve paces, + provided there was anything like deliberation in the holder. Often and + again had she handled these weapons, poising them and addressing them at + objects as she had seen her father do. On one occasion she had been made + to discharge them, under his own instructions; she had done so without + terror. She recalled these events. She had seen the pistols loaded. She + did not exactly know what quantity of powder was necessary for a charge, + but she was in no mood to calculate the value of a thimbleful. + </p> + <p> + Availing herself of the temporary absence of her mother, she possessed + herself of these weapons. Along with them, in the same drawer, she found a + horn which still contained a certain quantity of powder. There were + bullets in the bag with the pistols which precisely fitted them. There, + too, was the mould—there were flints—the stock was + sufficiently ample for all her desires; and she surveyed the prize, in her + own room, with the look of one who congratulates himself in the conviction + that he holds in his hand the great medicine which is to cure his disease. + In her chamber she loaded the weapons, and, with such resignation as + belonged to her philosophy, she waited for the propitious moment when she + might complete the deed. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV. — FOLDING THE ROBES ABOUT HER. + </h2> + <p> + It was the sabbath and a very lovely day. The sun never shone more + brightly in the heavens; and as Margaret Cooper surveyed its mellow orange + light, lying, like some blessed spirit, at sleep upon the hills around + her, and reflected that she was about to behold it for the last time, her + sense of its exceeding beauty became more strong than ever. Now that she + was about to lose it for ever, it seemed more beautiful than it had ever + been before. + </p> + <p> + This is a natural effect, which the affections confer upon the objects + which delight and employ them. Even a temporary privation increases the + loveliness of the external nature. How we linger and look. That shade + seems so inviting; that old oak so venerable! That rock—how often + have we sat upon it, evening and morning, and mused strange, wild, sweet + fancies! It is an effort to tear one's self away—it is almost like + tearing away from life itself; so many living affections feel the rending + and the straining—so many fibres that have their roots in the heart, + are torn and lacerated by the separation. + </p> + <p> + Poor Margaret! she looked from her window upon the bright and beautiful + world around her. Strange that sorrow should dwell in a world so bright + and beautiful! Stranger still, that, dwelling in such a world, it should + not dwell there by sufferance only and constraint! that it should have + such sway—such privilege. That it should invade every sanctuary and + leave no home secure. Ah! but the difference between mere sorrow and + guilt! Poor Margaret could not well understand that! If she could—but + no! She was yet to learn that the sorrows of the innocent have a healing + effect. That they produce a holy and ennobling strength, and a juster + appreciation of those evening shades of life which render the lights + valuable and make their uses pure. It is only guilt which finds life + loathsome. It is only guilt that sorrow weakens and enslaves. Virtue grows + strong beneath the pressure of her enemies, and with such a power as was + fabled of the king of Pontus, turns the most poisonous fruits of earth + into the most wholesome food. + </p> + <p> + But, even in the heart of Margaret Cooper, where the sense of the + beautiful was strong, the loveliness of the scene was felt. She drank in, + with strange satisfaction—a satisfaction to which she had long been + a stranger—its soft and inviting beauties. They did not lessen her + sense of suffering, perhaps, but they were not without their effect in + producing other moods, which, once taken in company with the darker ones + of the soul, may, in time, succeed in alleviating them. Never, indeed, had + the prospect been more calm and wooing. Silence, bending from the hills, + seemed to brood above the valley even as some mighty spirit, at whose + bidding strife was hushed, and peace became the acknowledged divinity of + all. The humming voices of trade and merriment were all hushed in homage + to the holy day; and if the fitful song of a truant bird, that presumed + beside the window of Margaret Cooper, did break the silence of the scene, + it certainly did not disturb its calm. The forest minstrel sung in a + neighboring tree, and she half listened to his lay. The strain seemed to + sympathize with her sadness. She thought upon her own songs, which had + been of such a proud spirit; and how strange and startling seemed the idea + that with her, song would soon cease for ever. The song of the bird would + be silent in her ears, and her own song! What song would be hers? What + strain would she take up? In what abode—before what altars? + </p> + <p> + This train of thought, which was not entirely lost, however, was broken, + for the time, by a very natural circumstance. A troop of the village + damsels came in sight, on their way to church. She forgot the song of + birds, as her morbid spirit suggested to her the probable subject of their + meditations. + </p> + <p> + “They have seen me,” she muttered to herself as she hastily darted from + the window. “Ay, they exult. They point to me—me, the abandoned—the + desolate—soon to be the disgraced! But, no! no! that shall never be. + They shall never have that triumph, which is always so grateful a subject + of regale to the mean and envious!” + </p> + <p> + The voice of her mother from below disturbed these unhappy meditations. + The old lady was prepared for church, and was surprised to find that + Margaret had not made her toilet. + </p> + <p> + “What! don't you mean to go, Margaret?” + </p> + <p> + “Not to-day, mother.” + </p> + <p> + “What, and the new preacher too, that takes the place of John Cross! They + say he makes a most heavenly prayer.” + </p> + <p> + But the inducement of the heavenly prayer of the new preacher was not + enough for Margaret. The very suggestion of a new preacher would have been + conclusive against her compliance. The good old lady was too eager herself + to get under way to waste much time in exhortation, and hurrying off, she + scarcely gave herself time to answer the inquiry of the widow Thackeray, + at her own door, after the daughter's health. + </p> + <p> + “I will go in and see her,” said the lighthearted but truehearted woman. + </p> + <p> + “Do, do, ma'am—-if you please! She'll be glad to see you. I'll hurry + on, as I see Mrs. Hinkley just ahead.” + </p> + <p> + The widow Thackeray looked after her with a smile, which was exchanged for + another of different character when she found herself in the chamber of + Margaret. She put her arms about the waist of the sufferer; kissed her + cheeks, and with the tenderest solicitude spoke of her health and comfort. + To her, alone, with the exception of her mother—according to the + belief of Margaret—her true situation had been made known. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said she, “how should I feel—how should I be! You should + know. I am as one cursed—doomed, hopeless of anything but death.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! do not speak of death, Margaret,” said the other kindly. “We must all + die, I know, but that does not reconcile me any more to the thought. It + brings always a creeping horror through my veins. Think of life—talk + of life only.” + </p> + <p> + “They say that death is life.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is, I believe, Margaret; and now I think of it, dress yourself and + go to church where we may hear something on this subject to make us wiser + and better. Come, my dear—let us go to God.” + </p> + <p> + “I can not—not to-day, dear Mrs. Thackeray.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Margaret, why not? It is to the church, of all places, you should now + go.” + </p> + <p> + “What! to be stared at? To see the finger of scorn pointing at me wherever + I turn? To hear the whispered insinuation? To be conscious only of sneer + and sarcasm on every hand? No, no, dear Mrs. Thackeray, I can not go for + this. Feeling this, I should neither pray for myself, nor find benefit + from the prayers of others. Nay, THEY would not pray. They would only + mock.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret, these thoughts are very sinful.” + </p> + <p> + “So they are, but I can not think of any better. They can not but be + sinful since they are mine.” + </p> + <p> + “But you are not wedded to sin, dearest. Such thoughts can give you no + pleasure. Come with me to church! Come and pray! Prayer will do you good.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather pray here. Let me remain. I will try to go out among the + hills when you are all engaged in church, and will pray there. Indeed I + must. I must pray then and pray there, if prayer is ever to do me good.” + </p> + <p> + “The church is the better place, Margaret. One prays better where one sees + that all are praying.” + </p> + <p> + “But when I KNOW that they are not praying! When I know that envy is in + their hearts, and malice, and jealousy and suspicion—that God is not + in their hearts, but their fellow; and not him with friendly and fond, but + with spiteful and deceitful thoughts!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Margaret, how can you know this? Judge not lest ye be judged.” + </p> + <p> + “It matters not, dear Mrs. Thackeray. God is here, or there. He will be + among the hills if anywhere. I will seek him there. If I can command my + thoughts anywhere, it will be in the woods alone. In the church I can not. + Those who hate me are there—and their looks of hate would only move + my scorn and defiance.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret, you do our people wrong. You do yourself wrong. None hate you—none + will point to you, or think of your misfortune; and if they did, it is + only what you might expect, and what you must learn patiently to bear, as + a part of the punishment which God inflicts on sin. You must submit, + Margaret, to the shame as you have submitted to the sin. It is by + submission only that you can be made strong. The burden which you are + prepared to bear meekly, becomes light to the willing spirit. Come, dear + Margaret, I will keep with you, sit by you—show you, and all, that I + forget your sin and remember only your suffering.” + </p> + <p> + The good widow spoke with the kindest tones. She threw her arms around the + neck of the desolate one, and kissed her with the affection of a sister. + But the demon of pride was uppermost. She withstood entreaty and embrace. + </p> + <p> + “I can not go with you. I thank you, truly thank you, dear Mrs. Thackeray, + but I can not go. I have neither the courage nor the strength.” + </p> + <p> + “They will come—the courage and the strength—only try. God is + watchful to give us help the moment he sees that we really seek his + assistance. By prayer, Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “I will pray, but I must pray alone. Among the hills I will pray. My + prayer will not be less acceptable offered among his hills. My voice will + not remain unheard, though no chorus swells its appeal.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret, this is pride.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! go with me, and pray for humility.” + </p> + <p> + “My prayer would rather be for death.” + </p> + <p> + “Say not so, Margaret—this is impiety.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, death!—the peace, the quiet of the grave—of a long sleep—an + endless sleep—where the vulture may no longer gnaw the heart, nor + the fire burn within the brain! For these I must pray.” + </p> + <p> + And, thus speaking, the unhappy woman smote her throbbing head with + violent hand. + </p> + <p> + “Shocking thought! But you do not believe in such a sleep? Surely, + Margaret, you believe in life eternal?” + </p> + <p> + “Would I did not!” + </p> + <p> + “O Margaret!—but you are sick; you are very feverish. Your eyeballs + glare like coals of fire; your face seems charged with blood. I am afraid + you are going to have another attack, like the last.” + </p> + <p> + “Be not afraid. I have no such fear.” + </p> + <p> + “I will sit with you, at least,” said the kind-hearted woman. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that I must positively forbid, Mrs. Thackeray; I will not suffer it. + I will not sit with YOU. Go you to church. You will be late. Do not waste + your time on me. I mean to ramble among the hills this morning. THAT, I + think, will do me more good than anything else. There, I am sure—there + only—I will find peace.” + </p> + <p> + The worthy widow shook her head doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “But I am sure of it,” said Margaret. “You will see. Peace, peace—the + repose of the heart—the slumber of the brain!—I shall find all + there!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Thackeray, finding her inflexible, rose to depart, but with some + irresoluteness. + </p> + <p> + “If you would let me walk with you, Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “No! no!—dear Mrs. Thackeray—I thank you very much; but, with + a mood such as mine, I shall be much better alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you are resolved—” + </p> + <p> + “I am resolved! never more so.” + </p> + <p> + These words were spoken in tones which might have startled a suspicious + mind. But the widow was none. + </p> + <p> + “God bless you!” she said, kissing her at parting. “I will see you when I + come from church.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you?” said Margaret, with a significant but sad smile. Then, + suddenly rising, she exclaimed:— + </p> + <p> + “Let me kiss you, dear Mrs. Thackeray, and thank you again, before you go. + You have been very kind to me, very kind, and you have my thanks and + gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Thackeray was touched by her manner. This was the first time that the + proud spirit of Margaret Cooper had ever offered such an acknowledgment. + It was one that the gentle and unremitting kindnesses of the widow amply + deserved. After renewing her promise to call on her return from church, + Mrs. Thackeray took her departure. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper was once more alone. When she heard the outer door shut, + she then threw herself upon the bed, and gave way to the utterance of + those emotions which, long restrained, had rendered her mind a terrible + anarchy. A few tears, but very few, were wrung from her eyes; but she + groaned audibly, and a rapid succession of shivering-fits passed through + her frame, racking the whole nervous system, until she scarcely found + herself able to rise from the couch where she had thrown herself. A + strong, determined will alone moved her, and she rose, after a lapse of + half an hour, to the further prosecution of her purpose. Her temporary + weakness and suffering of frame had no effect upon her resolves. She + rather seemed to be strengthened in them. This strength enabled her to sit + down and dictate a letter to her mother, declaring her intention, and + justifying it by such arguments as were presented by the ingenious demon + who assists always in the councils of the erring heart. + </p> + <p> + She placed this letter in her bosom, that it might be found upon her + person. It was curious to observe, next, that she proceeded to tasks which + were scarcely in unison with the dreadful deed she meditated. She put her + chamber in nice order. Her books, of which she had a tolerably handsome + collection for a private library in our forest-country, she arranged and + properly classed upon their shelves. Then she made her toilet with unusual + care. It was for the last time. She gazed upon the mirror, and beheld her + own beauties with a shudder. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she thought, though she gave no expression to the thought, “to be so + beautiful, yet fail!” + </p> + <p> + It was a reflection to touch any heart with sorrow. Her dress was of plain + white; she wore no ornament—not even a riband. Her hair, which was + beautifully long and thick, was disposed in a clubbed mass upon her head, + very simply but with particular neatness; and, when all was done, + concealing the weapon of death beneath a shawl which she wrapped around + her, she left the house, and stole away unobserved along the hills, in the + seclusion and sacred silence of which she sought to avoid the evil + consequences of one crime by the commission of another far more heinous. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI. — SUSPENSE AND AGONY. + </h2> + <p> + At the risk of seeming monotonous, we must repeat the reflection made in + our last chapter, that the things we are about to lose for ever seem + always more valuable in the moment of their loss. They acquire a newer + interest in our eyes at such a time, possibly under the direction of some + governing instinct which is intended to render us tenacious of life to the + very last. Privation teaches us much more effectually than possession the + value of all human enjoyments; and the moralist has more than once drawn + his sweetest portraits of liberty from the gloom and the denials of a + dungeon. How eloquent of freedom is he who yearns for it in vain! How + glowing is that passion which laments the lost! + </p> + <p> + To one dying, as we suppose few die, in the perfect possession of their + senses, how beautiful must seem the fading hues of the sunlight, + flickering along the walls of a chamber! how heavenly the brief glimpses + of the blue sky through the half-opened window! how charming the green bit + of foliage that swings against the pane! how cheering and unwontedly sweet + and balmy the soft, sudden gust of the sweet south, breathing up from the + flowers, and stirring the loose drapery around the couch! How can we part + with these without tears? how reflect, without horror, upon the close + coffin, the damp clod, the deep hollows of the earth in which we are to be + cabined? Oh, with what earnestness, at such a moment, must the wholly + conscious spirit pray for life! now greedily will he drink the nauseous + draught in the hope to secure its boon! how fondly will he seize upon + every chimera, whether of his own or of another's fancy, in order to gain + a little respite—in order still to keep within the grasp of mind and + sight, these lovely agents of earth and its Master, which, in our day of + strength and exultation, we do not value at one half their worth! And how + full of dread and horror must be that first awful conviction which assures + him that the struggle is in vain—that the last remedy is tried—that + nothing is left him now but despair—despair and death! Then it is + that Christianity comes to his relief. If he believes, he gains by his + loss. Its godlike promise assures him then that the things which his + desires make dear, his faith has rendered immortal. + </p> + <p> + The truth of many of these reflections made their way into the mind of + Margaret Cooper, as she pursued the well-known path along the hills. She + observed the objects along the route more narrowly than ever. She was + taking that path for the last time. Her eyes would behold these objects no + more. How often had she pursued the same route with Alfred Stevens! But + then she had not seen these things; she had not observed these thousand + graces and beauties of form and shadow which now seemed to crowd around, + challenging her regard and demanding her sympathies. Then she had seen + nothing but him. The bitterness which this reflection occasioned made her + hurry her footsteps; but there was an involuntary shudder that passed + through her frame, when, in noting the strange beauty of the path, she + reflected that it would be trodden by her for the last time. Her breathing + became quickened by the reflection. She pressed forward up the hills. The + forests grew thick around her—deep, dim, solemn, and inviting. The + skies above looked down in little blessed blue tufts, through the crowding + tree-tops. The long vista of the woods led her onward in wandering + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + To fix these thoughts—to keep them from wandering! This was a + difficulty. Margaret Cooper strove to do so, but she could not. Never did + her mind seem such a perfect chaos—so full of confused and confusing + objects and images. Her whole life seemed to pass in review before her. + All her dreams of ambition, all the struggles of her genius! Were these to + be thrown away? Were these all to be wasted? Was her song to be unheard? + Was her passionate and proud soul to have no voice? If death is terrible + to man, it is terrible, not as a pang, but as an oblivion; and to the soul + of genius, oblivion is a soul-death, and its thought is a source of + tenfold terror. + </p> + <p> + “But of what avail were life to me now? Even should I live,” said the + wretched woman, “would it matter more to the ambition which I have had, + and to the soul which flames and fevers within me? Who would hearken to + the song of the degraded? Who, that heard the story of my shame, would + listen to the strains of my genius? Say that its utterance is even as + proud as my own vanity of heart would esteem it—say that no plaint + like mine had ever touched the ear or lifted the heart of humanity! Alas! + of what avail! The finger of scorn would be uplifted long before the voice + of applause. The sneer and sarcasm of the worldling would anticipate the + favoring judgment of the indulgent and the wise. Who would do justice to + my cause? Who listen? Alas! the voice of genius would be of little avail + speaking from the lips of the dishonored. + </p> + <p> + “To the talent which I have, and the ambition which still burns within me, + life then can bring nothing—no exercise—no fruition. Suppose, + then, that the talent is left to slumber—the ambition stifled till + it has no further longings! Will life yield anything to the mere creature + of society—to my youth—to my beauty—to my sense of + delight—if still there be any such sense left to me? Shall I be less + the creature of social scorn, because I have yielded my ambition—because + I have forborne the employment of those glorious gifts which Heaven in its + bounty has allotted me? + </p> + <p> + “Alas! no! am I not a woman, one of that frail, feeble sex, whose name is + weakness?—of whom, having no strength, man yet expects the proofs of + the most unyielding—of a firmness which he himself can not exercise—of + a power of self-denial and endurance of which he exhibits no example. If I + weep, he smiles at my weakness. If I stifle my tears, he denounces my + unnatural hardihood. If I am cold and unyielding, I am masculine and + neglected—if I am gentle and pliant, my confidence is abused and my + person dishonored. What can society, which is thus exacting, accord to me, + then, as a mere woman? What shame will it not thrust upon me—a woman—and + as I am? + </p> + <p> + “Life then promises me nothing. The talent which I have, lies within me + idle and without hope of use. The pure name of the woman is lost to me for + ever. Shame dogs my footsteps. Scorn points its finger. Life, and all that + it brings to others—love, friends, fame, fortune—which are the + soul of life—these are lost to me for ever. The moral death is here + already. The mere act of dying, is simply the end of a strife, and a + breathing and an agony. That is all!” + </p> + <p> + The day became overcast. A cloud obscured the sunlight. The blue tufts of + sky no longer looked downward through the openings of the trees. The + scene, dim and silent before, became unusually dark. The aspect of nature + seemed congenial with the meditated deed. She had reasoned herself into + its commission, and she reproached herself mentally with her delay. Any + self-suggestion of an infirmity of purpose, with a nature such as hers, + would have produced precipitation. She turned down a slight gorge among + the hills where the forest was more close. She knelt beneath a tree and + laid down her pistol at its foot. + </p> + <p> + She knelt—strange contradiction!—she knelt for the purposes of + prayer. But she could not pray. It would seem that she attributed this + effort to the sight of the pistols, and she put them behind her without + changing her position. The prayer, if she made any, was internal; and, at + all events it did not seem to be satisfactory. Yet, before it was ended, + she started with an expression of painful thought upon her face. The voice + of her reason had ceased its utterance. The voice of her conscience, + perhaps, had been unheard; but there was yet another voice to be heard + which was more potent than all. + </p> + <p> + It was the mother's voice! + </p> + <p> + She placed her hand upon her side with a spasmodic effort. The quickening + of a new life within her, made that new voice effectual. She threw herself + on the ground and wept freely. For the first time she wept freely. The + tears were those of the mother. The true fountain of tears had been + touched. That first throb of the innocent pledge of guilty passion subdued + the fiend. She could have taken her own life, but dared not lift the + deadly weapon against that. The arm of the suicide—was arrested. She + groaned, she wept, bitterly and freely. She was at once feebler and more + strong. Feebler, as regarded her late resolution; stronger as regarded the + force of her affections, the sweet humanities, not altogether subdued + within her heart. The slight pulsation of that infant in her womb had been + more effectual than the voice of reason, or conscience, or feminine dread. + The maternal feeling is, perhaps, the most imperious of all those which + gather in the heart of woman. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper, however, had not altogether resolved against the deed. + She only could not do it there and then. Her wretched determination was + not wholly surrendered, but it was touched, enfeebled; and with the + increasing powers of reflection, the impetuosity of the will became + naturally lessened. Those few glimpses along the roadside which had made + her sensible to the beauties she was about to lose, had prepared her mind + to act in counteraction of her impulse; and the event which had brought + into play the maternal instinct, naturally helped the cause of reason in + her soul. + </p> + <p> + Still, with the erring pride of youth she reproached herself with her + infirmity of purpose. She resolved to change her ground, as if the + instinct which had been awakened in one spot would not everywhere pursue + her. Time was gained, and in such cases, to gain time is everything. + Perhaps no suicide would ever take place if the individual would wait ten + minutes. The soul takes its color from the cloud, and changes its moods as + often. It is one of the best lessons to the young, to wait! wait! wait! + One of the surest signs of strength is where the individual waits + patiently and makes no complaint. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper changed her ground. The spot was a wild one. A broken + ledge of rock was at her feet, and just below it ran a dark, narrow + winding footpath half-obscured by the undergrowth. Here she once more + proceeded to nerve her mind for the commission of the deed, but she had + not been there an instant when she was surprised to hear the sound of + voices. + </p> + <p> + This was unusual. Who could they be? The villagers were not apt to stray + from church-service whenever a preacher was to be found, and there was a + new one, and consequently a new attraction, that day, for the spiritual + hungry of Charlemont. The path below was seldom trodden except by herself + and an occasional sportsman. The idea that entered her mind was, that her + purpose had been suspected, and that she was pursued. + </p> + <p> + With this idea, she placed the pistol to her breast. She had already + cocked the weapon. Her finger was on the trigger. But the tones of another + voice reached her ears from below. They were those of a woman—sweet, + musical, and tender. + </p> + <p> + A new light broke in upon her mind. This was the language of love. And who + were these new lovers in Charlemont? Could it be that the voice of the + male speaker was that of Stevens? Something in the tone sounded like it, + Involuntarily, with this impression, the weapon was turned from her own + bosom, and addressed in the direction in which the persons below were + approaching. A sudden, joyous feeling touched her soul. The thought to + destroy the criminal by whom she had been destroyed was a source of + exultation. She felt that she could do it. Both pistols were in her hand. + The pathway was not more than twenty paces distant; and her nerves, for + the first time, braced to an unusual tension, trembled with the new + excitement in her soul. + </p> + <p> + The intruders continued to approach. Their voices became more distinct, + and Margaret Cooper was soon undeceived as to one of them being that of + Alfred Stevens. She was compelled to lie close, that she might not betray + her position and purpose. The male speaker was very urgent; the voice + seemed that of a stranger. That of the female was not so clearly + distinguishable, yet it seemed more familiar to the unintentional + listener. + </p> + <p> + Something of feminine curiosity now entered the bosom of Margaret Cooper. + Crouching where she was, she deposited the pistols at her feet. She + remained breathlessly, for the slightest movement would have revealed her + to the persons who were now just below. They passed close beneath the + place of her concealment, and she soon discovered that they were lovers; + and what their language was, even if she had not heard it, might have been + conjectured. + </p> + <p> + The girl was a very pretty brunette of Charlemont—a sweet, retiring + damsel of her own age, named Rivers—whom she knew only slightly. She + was a shy, gentle, unpresuming girl, whom, for this reason, perhaps, + Margaret had learned to look upon without dislike or scorn. Her companion + was a youth whom Margaret had known when a lad, but who had been absent on + the Mississippi for two years. His tall and masculine but well-made and + graceful person sufficiently accounted for, while it justified, the taste + of the maiden. He was a youth of fine, frank, manly countenance. His garb + was picturesque, that of a bold border-hunter, with hunting-frock of + yellow buckskin, and Indian leggings. + </p> + <p> + The girl looked up to him with an expression at once of eagerness and + timidity. Confidence and maiden bashfulness spoke equally in the delight + which glowed upon her features. The bright eyes and sun-burned features of + the youth were flushed with the feeling of happy triumph and assuring + love. The relation of the two was sufficiently evident from their looks, + even had they no other language. + </p> + <p> + What were the emotions of Margaret Cooper as she looked down upon this + pair? At first she thought, as will most persons: “Surely there is nothing + in nature so lovely as the union of two—fond, devoted hearts. The + picture is one equally of moral and physical beauty. The slight, fragile, + depending damsel, hanging in perfect confidence on the arm of the manly, + lofty, and exulting youth—looking up into his eyes in hope, while he + returns the gaze with pride and fondness! Unconscious of all things but + the love which to them is life and all things besides, they move along the + forest way and know not its solitude; they linger and loiter along its + protracted paths, and see not their length; they cling together through + the lengthened hours, and fancy they have lost no time; they hear each + other's voices, and believe that life is all music and delight.” + </p> + <p> + While Margaret Cooper looked down and heard the pleadings and promises of + the youth, and beheld the sweet emotions of his companion, engaged in a + pleasant struggle between her hopes and misgivings, she scarcely + restrained herself from rising where she was and crying aloud—like + another Cassandra, not to be believed: “Beware! beware!” + </p> + <p> + But the warning of Margaret Cooper would have been unnecessary. The girl + was not only free from danger, but she was superior to it. She had the + wholesome fear of doing wrong too strongly impressed upon her by education—she + had too little confidence in herself—was too well assured of her own + weakness—to suffer herself, even for a moment, to depart, in either + thought or deed, from those quiet but stern proprieties of conduct which + are among the best securities of the young. While she looked in her + lover's face with confidence, and held his arm with the grasp of one who + is sure of a right to do so, there was an air of childish simplicity in + her manner which was wholly at variance with wild passions and improper + fancies. While the hunter maintained her on his arm, and looked down into + her eyes with love, his glance was yet as respectful, as unexpressive of + presumption, as her own. Had the eyes of all Charlemont been looking on, + they would have beheld nothing in the conduct of either which could have + incurred the censure of the most becoming delicacy. + </p> + <p> + Keen was the emotion and bitter was the thought which worked in the mind + of Margaret Cooper. She looked on the deportment of that young maiden, + whose intellect at another day she would have despised, with envy and + regret. Truer thoughts and feelings came to her as she listened to the + innocent but fond dialogue between the unconscious pair. The hunter was + pursuing an erratic life of enterprise and industry, then very common + among the western youth. He had been down upon the Mississippi, seeking + his fortune in such adventures as make border-life in our country + something like the more civilized life of the middle ages. He had returned + after a long absence, to claim the bride whose affections he had won long + before he had departed. + </p> + <p> + Never had knight-errant been more true to his mistress. Her image had been + his talisman as well against danger from without, as against the demon + within. It had never left his mind, and he now returned for his reward. He + had returned to Charlemont just before the church service had begun, and, + being unprepared to go thither, had found no difficulty in persuading his + sweetheart to give the hour of morning service to himself. + </p> + <p> + Mixed up with his professions of love was the story of his wanderings. + Never were adventures more interesting to any auditor. Never was auditor + more easily moved by the transitions of the tale from tears to smiles, and + from smiles again to tears. His risks and rewards; his defeats and + successes; his wild adventures by fell and flood—not perhaps so + perilous as those of Othello, but such as proved he had the soul to + encounter the worst in Othello's experience, and maintain himself as well—drew + largely on the maiden's wonder and delight, increased her tenderness and + tremors, and made her quite as devoted to her hero as ever was Desdemona + to her dusky chief. As they went from hearing below, the manner in which + the hunter concluded his narrative provided a sufficient test for the + faith of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “And now, Selina, you see all the risks and the dangers. There's work and + perhaps trouble for you to go down with me along the Choctaw borders. But + if there's work, I am the man to do my own share, and help you out in + yours; and, if there's trouble, here's the breast to stand it first, and + here's the arm to drive it back, so that it'll never trouble yours. No + danger shall come to you, so long as I can stand up between it and you. If + so be that you love me as you say, there's one way to show it: you'll soon + make up your mind to go with me. If you don't, why—” + </p> + <p> + “But you know I do love you, John—” murmured the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Don't I believe it? Well, if what you say means what it should, you're + ready. Here's my hand, and all that it's good for. It can work for you and + fight for you, Selina, and it's yours etarnally, with all that I have.” + </p> + <p> + The hand of the girl was silently put into that of the speaker. The tears + were in her eyes; but, if she made any other answer, it was unheard by + Margaret Cooper. The rustic pair moved from sight even as they spoke, and + the desolate woman once more remained alone! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII. — SHAME AND DEATH—THE OATH. + </h2> + <p> + Margaret Cooper was at length permitted to emerge from the place of her + concealment. The voices of the lovers were lost, as well as their forms, + in the wooded distance. Dreaming, like children as they were, of life and + happiness, they had wandered off, too happy to fancy for a moment that the + world contained, in its wide, vast bosom, one creature half so wretched as + she who hung above them, brooding, like some wild bird of the cliff, over + the storm which had robbed her of her richest plumage. + </p> + <p> + She sank back into the woods. She no longer had the heart to commit the + meditated crime. This purpose had left her mind. It had given place to + another, however, scarcely less criminal. We have seen her, under the + first impression that the stranger whose voice she heard was Alfred + Stevens, turning the muzzle of the pistol from her breast to the path on + which he was approaching. Though she discovered her error, and laid the + weapon down, the sudden suggestion of her mind, at that moment, gave a new + direction to her mood. + </p> + <p> + Why should she not seek to avenge her wrong? Was he to escape without + penalty? was she to be a quiescent victim? True, she was a woman, destined + it would seem to suffer—perhaps with a more than ordinary share of + that suffering which falls to her sex. But she had also a peculiar + strength—the strength of a man in some respects; and in her bosom + she now felt the sudden glow of one of his fiercest passions. Revenge + might be in her power. She might redress her wrong by her own hand. It was + a weapon of death which she grasped. In her grasp it might be made a + weapon of power. The suggestion seemed to be that of justice only. It was + one that filled her whole soul with a triumphant and a wild enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be stricken down without danger to mine enemy. For THIS—this, + at least—strength is allotted me. Let him tremble! In his place of + seeming security let him tremble! I shall pursue his steps. I will find + him out. There shall be a day of retribution! Alfred Stevens, there is a + power within me which tells me you are no longer safe! + </p> + <p> + “And why may I not secure this justice—this vengeance? Why? Because + I am a woman. Ha! We shall see. If I am a woman, I can be an enemy—and + such an enemy! An enemy not to be appeased, not to be overcome. War always + with my foe—war to the knife—war to the last!” + </p> + <p> + Such a nature as that of Margaret Cooper needed some such object to give + it the passionate employment without which it must recoil upon itself and + end either in suicide or madness. She brooded upon this new thought. She + found in it a grateful exercise. From the moment when she conceived the + idea of being the avenger of her own wrong, her spirit became more elastic—she + became less sensible to the possible opinions upon her condition which + might be entertained by others. She found consolation, in retreating to + this one thought, from all the rest. Of the difficulties in the way of her + design, it was not in her impetuous character to think. She never once + suspected that the name of Alfred Stevens had been an assumed one. She + never once asked how she was to pursue and hunt him up. She thought of a + male disguise for herself, it is true; but of the means and modes of + travel—in what direction to go, and after what plan to conduct her + pursuit, she had not the most distant idea. + </p> + <p> + She addressed herself to her new design, however, in one respect, with + amazing perseverance. It diverted her from other and more oppressive + thoughts. Her pistols she carried secretly to a very distant wood, where + she concealed them in the hollow of a tree. To this wood she repaired + secretly and daily. Here she selected a tree as a mark. A small section of + the bark, which she tore away, at a given height, she learned to regard as + the breast of her seducer. This was the object of her aim. Without any + woman fears, she began her practice and continued it, day by day, until, + as we are told by one of the chroniclers of her melancholy story, “she + could place a ball with an accuracy, which, were it universally equalled + by modern duellists, would render duelling much more fatal than it + commonly is.” + </p> + <p> + In secret she procured gunpowder and lead, by arts so ingenious as to + baffle detection. At midnight when her mother slept she moulded her + bullets. Well might the thoughts and feelings which possessed her mind, + while engaged in this gloomy labor, have endowed every bullet with a + wizard spell to make it do its bidding truly. Bitter, indeed, were the + hours so appropriated; but they had their consolations. Dark and terrible + were the excited moods in which she retired from her toils to that slumber + which she could not always secure. And when it did come, what were its + images! The tree, the mark, the weapon, the deep, dim forest, all the + scenes and trials of the day, were renewed in her sleep. A gloomy wood + filled her eyes—a victim dabbled in blood lay before her; and, more + than once, her own fearful cry of vengeance and exultation awakened her + from those dreams of sleep, which strengthened her in the terrible pursuit + of the object which occasioned them. + </p> + <p> + Such thoughts and practices, continued with religious pertinacity, from + day to day, necessarily had their effect upon her appearance as well as + her character. Her beauty assumed a wilder aspect. Her eye shot forth a + supernatural fire. She never smiled. Her mouth was rigid and compressed as + if her heart was busy in an endless conflict. Her gloom, thus nurtured by + solitude and the continual presence of a brooding imagination of revenge, + darkened into something like ferocity. Her utterance became brief and + quick—her tones sharp, sudden, and piercing. She had but one thought + which never seemed to desert her, yet of this thought no ear ever had + cognizance. It was of the time when she should exercise the skill which + she had now acquired upon that destroyer of herself, whom she now felt + herself destined to destroy. + </p> + <p> + Of course we are describing a madness—one of those peculiar forms of + the disease which seems to have its origin in natural and justifiable + suggestions of reason. Not the less a madness for all that. + </p> + <p> + Succeeding in her practice at one distance, Margaret Cooper changed it. + From one point to another she constantly varied her practice, until her + aim grew certain at almost any distance within the ordinary influence of + the weapon. To strike her mark at thirty feet became, in a little while, + quite as easy as to do so at five; and, secure now of her weapon, her next + object—though there was no cessation of her practice—was how + to seek and where to find the victim. + </p> + <p> + In this new object she meditated to disguise herself in the apparel of a + man. She actually commenced the making up of the several garments of one. + This was also the secret labor of the midnight hour, when her + feeble-minded mother slept. She began to feel some of the difficulties + lying in the way of this pursuit, and her mind grew troubled to consider + them, without however, relaxing in its determination. That seemed a + settled matter. + </p> + <p> + While she brooded over this new feature of her purpose—as if + fortunately to arrest the mad design—her mother fell seriously sick, + and was for some time in danger. The duty of attending upon her, put a + temporary stop to her thoughts and exercises; though without having the + effect of expelling them from her mind. + </p> + <p> + But another event, upon her mother's recovery, tended to produce a + considerable alteration in her thoughts. A new care filled her heart and + rendered her a different being, in several respects. She was soon to + become a mother. The sickness of soul which oppressed her under this + conviction, gave a new direction to her mood without lessening its + bitterness; and, in proportion as she found her vengeance delayed, so was + the gratification which it promised, a heightened desire in her mind. + </p> + <p> + For the humiliating and trying event which was at hand, Margaret Cooper + prepared with a degree of silent firmness which denoted quite as strongly + the resignation of despair as any other feeling. + </p> + <p> + The child is born. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper has at length become a mother. She has suffered the agony, + without being able to feel the compensating pride and pleasure of one. It + was the witness of her shame—could she receive it with any + assurances of love? It is doubtful if she did. + </p> + <p> + For some time after its birth, the hapless woman seemed to be unconscious, + or half-conscious only, of her charge. A stupor weighed upon her senses. + When she did awaken, and her eyes fell upon the face and form of the + infant with looks of recognition, one long, long piercing shriek burst + from her lips. She closed her eyes—she turned away from the little + unoffending, yet offensive object with a feeling of horror. + </p> + <p> + Its features were those of Alfred Stevens. The likeness was indelible; and + this identity drew upon the child a share of that loathing hatred with + which she now remembered the guilty father. + </p> + <p> + It may very well be supposed that the innocent babe suffered under these + circumstances. The milk which it drew from the mother's breast, was the + milk of bitterness, and it did not thrive. It imbibed gall instead of + nutriment. Day after day it pined in hopeless misery; and though the + wretched mother strove to supply its wants and soothe its little sorrows, + with a gradually increasing interest which overcame her first loathing, + there was yet that want of sweetest sympathy which nothing merely physical + could well supply. + </p> + <p> + Debility was succeeded by disease—fever preyed upon its little + frame, which was now reduced to a skeleton. One short month only had + elapsed from its birth, and it lay, in the silence of exhaustion upon the + arm of its mother. Its eyes, whence the flickering light was escaping + fast, looked up into hers, as she fancied, with an expression of reproach. + She felt, on the instant, the pang of the maternal conscience. She forgot + the unworthy father, as she thought of the neglectful mother. She bent + down, and, for the first time, imprinted on its little lips the maternal + kiss. + </p> + <p> + A smile seemed to glimmer on its tiny features; and, from that moment, + Margaret Cooper resolved to forget her injuries, for the time, at least, + in the consideration of her proper duties. But her resolution came too + late. Even while her nipple was within its boneless gums, a change came + over the innocent. She did not heed it. Her eyes and thoughts were + elsewhere; and thus she mused, gazing vacantly upon the wall of her + chamber until her mother entered the room. Mrs. Cooper gave but a single + glance at the infant when she saw that its little cares were over. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Margaret!” she exclaimed, “the child is dead.” + </p> + <p> + The mother looked down with a start and shudder. A big tear fell from her + eyes upon the cold cheek of the innocent. She released it to her mother, + turned her face upon the couch, and uttered her thanks to Heaven that had + secured it—that had left her again free for that darker purpose + which had so long filled her mind. + </p> + <p> + “Better so,” she murmured to her mother. “It is at peace. It will neither + know its own nor its mother's griefs. It is free from that shame for which + I must live!” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, Margaret, no more of that,” said the mother sharply. “There's + no need of shame. There are other things to live for besides shame.” + </p> + <p> + “There are—there are!” exclaimed the daughter, with spasmodic + energy. “Were there not, I should, indeed, be desperate.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure you would, my child. You have a great deal to live for yet; + and let a little time blow over, and when everything's forgotten, you will + get as good a husband as any girl in the country.” + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven's sake, mother, none of this?” + </p> + <p> + “But why not! Though you are looking a little bad just now—quite + pale and broken—yet it's only because you have been so ill; and this + nursing of babies, and having 'em too, is a sort of business to make any + young woman look bad; but in spite of all, there's not a girl in the + village, no matter how fresh she may be looking, that can hold a candle to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “For mercy, mother!—” + </p> + <p> + “Let me speak, I tell you! Don't I know? You're young, and you'll get over + it. You will get all your beauty and good looks back, now that the baby's + out of the way, and there's no more nursing to be done. And what with your + beauty and your talents, Margaret—” + </p> + <p> + “Peace! mother! Peace—peace! You will drive me to madness if you + continue to speak thus.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm sure there's no knowing what to say to please you. I'm sure, I + only want to cheer you up, and to convince you that things are not so bad + as you think them now. The cloud will blow over soon, and everything will + be forgotten, and then, you see—” + </p> + <p> + The girl waved her hand impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Death—death!” she exclaimed. “Oh! child of shame, and bitterness, + and wrath!” she murmured, kneeling down beside the infant, “thou art the + witness that I have no future but storm, and cloud, and wrath, and—Vengeance!” + </p> + <p> + The last word was inaudible to her mother's ears. + </p> + <p> + “It is an oath!” she cried; “an oath!” And her hands were uplifted in + solemn adjuration. + </p> + <p> + “Come—come, Margaret! none of this swearing. You frighten me with + your swearing. There's nothing that you need to swear about! What's done + can't be helped now, by taking it so seriously. You must only be patient, + and give yourself time. Time's the word for us now; after a little while + you'll see the sky become brighter. It's a bad business, it's true; but it + needn't break a body's heart. How many young girls I've known in my time, + that's been in the same fix. There was Janet Bonner, and Emma Loring, and + Mary Peters—I knew 'em all, very well. Well, they all made a slip + once in their lives, and they never broke their hearts about it, and + didn't look very pale and sad in the face either; but they just kept quiet + and behaved decent for awhile, and every one of 'em got good husbands. + Janet Bonner, she married Dick Pyatt, who came from Massachusetts, and + kept the school down by Clayton's Meadow; Emma Loring married a + baptist-preacher from Virginia, named Stokes. I never saw him to know him; + and as for Mary Peters, there never was a girl that had a slip that was + ever so fortunate, for she's been married no less than three times since, + and as she's a widow again, there's no telling what may happen to her yet. + So don't you be so downcast. You're chance is pretty nigh as good as ever, + if you will only hold up your head, and put the best face on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! torture—torture! Mother, will you not be silent? Let the dead + speak to me only. I would hear but the voice of this one witness—” + </p> + <p> + And she communed only with the dead infant, sitting or kneeling beside it. + But the communion was not one of contrition or tears—not of humility + and repentance—not of self-reproach and a broken spirit. Pride and + other passions had summoned up deities and angels of terror and of crime, + before the eyes and thoughts of the wretched mourner, and the demon who + had watched with her and waited on her, and had haunted her with taunt and + bitter mockeries, night and day, was again busy with terrible suggestions, + which gradually grew to be divine laws to her diseased imagination. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” she exclaimed unconsciously. + </p> + <p> + “I hear! I obey! Yet speak again. Repeat the lesson. I must learn it every + syllable, so that I shall not mistake—so that I can not fail!” + </p> + <p> + “Who are you talking to, Margaret?” asked the mother anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “Do you not see them, where they go? There—through the doors; the + open windows—wrapped in shadows, with great wings at their + shoulders, each carrying a dart in his bony grasp.” + </p> + <p> + “Lord, have mercy! She's losing her senses again!” and the mother was + about to rush from the apartment to seek assistance; but with the action, + the daughter suddenly arose, wearing a look of singular calmness, and + motioning to the child, she said:— + </p> + <p> + “Will you not dress it for the grave?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm going about it now. The poor lovely little creature. The innocent + little blossom. We must put it in white, Margaret—virgin white—and + put white flowers in its little hands and on its breast, and under its + head. Oh! it will look so sweet in its little coffin!” + </p> + <p> + “God! I should go mad with all this!” exclaimed the daughter, “were it not + for that work which is before me! I must be calm for that-calm and stern! + I must not hear—I must not think—not feel—lest I forget + myself, and the deed which I have to do. That oath—that oath! It is + sworn! It is registered in heaven, by the fatal angel of remorse, and + wrath, and vengeance!” + </p> + <p> + And again, a whisper at her ears repeated:— + </p> + <p> + “For this, Margaret, and for this only, must thou live”. + </p> + <p> + “I must! I will!” she muttered, as it were in reply, and her eye glared + upon the opened door, as she heard a voice and footsteps without; and the + thought smote her:— + </p> + <p> + “Should it be now! Come for the sacrifice! Ha!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII. — THE PALL UPON THE COFFIN. + </h2> + <p> + The noise which arrested the attention of Margaret Cooper, and kindled her + features into an expression of wild and fiery ferocity, was of innocent + origin. The widow Thackeray was the intruder. Her kindness, sympathy, and + unwearied attentions, so utterly in conflict with the estimates hitherto + made of her heart and character, by Mrs Cooper, had, in some degree, + disarmed the censures of that excellent mother, if they had not wholly + changed her sentiments. She professed to be very grateful to Thackeray's + attentions, and, without making any profession, Margaret certainly showed + her that she felt them. She now only pointed the widow to the corpse of + the child, in that one action telling to the other all that was yet + unknown. Then she seated herself composedly, folded her hands, and, beside + the corpse, forgot its presence, forgot the presence of all—heard no + voice, save that of the assiduous demon whom nothing could expel from her + companionship. + </p> + <p> + “Poor little thing!” murmured the widow Thackeray, as she proceeded to + assist Mrs. Cooper in decking it for the grave. + </p> + <p> + The duty was finally done. Its burial was appointed for the morrow. + </p> + <p> + A village funeral is necessarily an event of some importance. The lack of + excitements in small communities, in vests even sorrow and grief and death + with a peculiar interest in the eyes of curiosity. On the present + occasion, all the villagers attended. The funeral itself might have + sufficed to collect them with few exceptions; but now there was a more + eager influence still, working upon the gossippy moods of the population. + To see Margaret Cooper in her affliction—to see that haughty spirit + humbled and made ashamed—was, we fear, a motive, in the minds of + many, much stronger than the ostensible occasion might have awakened. Had + Margaret been a fashionable woman, in a great city, she might have + disappointed the vulgar desire, by keeping to her chamber. Nay, even + according to the free-and-easy standards prevailing at Charlemont, she + might have done the same thing, and incurred no additional scandal. + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, to the surprise of a great many, that she made her + appearance. It was still more a matter of surprise—nay, pious and + virgin horror—that she seemed to betray neither grief nor shame, + surrounded as she was by all whom she knew, and all, in particular, whom, + in the day of her pride, she had kept at a distance. + </p> + <p> + “What a brazen creature!” whispered Miss Jemima Parkinson, an interesting + spinster of thirty-six, to Miss Ellen Broadhurst, who was only + thirty-four; and Miss Ellen whispered back, in reply:— + </p> + <p> + “She hasn't the slightest bit of shame!” + </p> + <p> + Interesting virgins! they had come to gloat over the spectacle of shame. + To behold the agonizing sense of degradation declare itself under the + finger-pointing scorn of those who, perhaps, were only innocent from + necessity, and virtuous because of the lack of the necessary attractions + in the eyes of lust. + </p> + <p> + But Margaret Cooper seemed quite as insensible to their presence as to + their scorn and her own shame. She, in truth, saw none of them. She heard + not their voices. She conjectured non (sic) nts. She had anticipated all + of them; and having, in consequence, reached a point of intensity in her + agony which could bear no addition, she had been relieved only by a still + more intense passion, by which the enfeebling one, of mere society, stood + rebuked and almost forgotten. + </p> + <p> + They little dreamed the terrible thoughts which were working, beneath that + stolid face, in that always eager-working brain. They never fancied what a + terrible demon now occupied that fiery heart which they supposed was + wholly surrendered to the consciousness of shame. Could they have heard + that voice of the fiend whispering in her ears, while they whispered to + one another—heard his terrible exhortations—heard her no less + terrible replies—they would have shrunk away in horror, and felt + fear rather than exultation. + </p> + <p> + Margaret Cooper was insensible to all that they could say or do. She knew + them well—knew what they would say, and feel, and do; but the very + extremity of her suffering had placed it out of their power any longer to + mortify or shame. + </p> + <p> + Some few of the villagers remained away. Ned Hinkley and his widowed + sister were absent from the house, though they occupied obscure places in + the church when the funeral-procession took place. An honorable pity kept + them from meeting the eyes of the poor shame-stricken but not + shame-showing woman. + </p> + <p> + And Margaret followed the little corpse to its quiet nook in the village + graveyard. In that simple region the procession was wholly on foot; and + she walked behind the coffin as firmly as if she knew not what it held. + There was a single shiver that passed over her frame, as the heavy clods + fell upon the coffin-lid—but that was all; and when her mother and + the widow Thackeray took each of them one of her arms, and led her away + from the grave, and home, she went quietly, calmly, it would seem, and + with as firm a step as ever! + </p> + <p> + “She has not a bit of feeling!” said Miss Jemima to Miss Ellen. + </p> + <p> + “That's always the case with your very smart women,” was the reply. “It's + all head with 'em; there's no heart. They can talk fine things about + death, and sorrow, and affliction, but it's talk only. They don't feel + what they say.” + </p> + <p> + Ned Hinkley had a juster notion of the state of the poor victim—of + her failings and her sensibilities, her equal strength and weakness. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he to his sister, “there's a burning volcano in that woman's + heart, that will tear her some day to pieces. For all that coldness, and + calmness, and stateliness, her brain is on fire, and her heart ready for a + convulsion. Her thoughts now, if she thinks at all, are all desperate. + She's going through a very hell upon earth! When you think of her pride—and + she's just as proud now as the devil himself—her misfortune hasn't + let her down—only made her more fierce—you wonder that she + lets herself be seen; you wonder that she lives at all. I only wonder that + she hasn't thrown herself from the rocks and into the lake. She'll do it + yet, I'm a-thinking. + </p> + <p> + “And just so she always was. I knew her long ago. She once told me she was + afraid of nothing—would do as she pleased—she could dare + anything! From that moment I saw she wasn't the girl for Bill Hinkley. I + told him so, but he was so crazy after her, he'd hear to nothing. A woman—a + young woman—a mere girl of fifteen—boasting that she can dare + and do things that would set any woman in a shiver! I tell you what, sis, + the woman that's bolder than her sex is always in danger of falling from + the rocks. She gets such a conceit of her mind, that the devil is always + welcome. Her heart, after that, stands no sort of chance! + </p> + <p> + “Protect me, say I, from all that class of women that pride themselves on + their strongmindedness! They get insolent upon it. They think that mind + can do everything. They're so vain, that they never can see the danger, + even when it's yawning at their feet. A woman's never safe unless she's + scary of herself, and mistrusts herself, and never lets her thoughts and + fancies get from under a tight rein of prudence. For, after all, the + passions will have their way some day, and then what's the use of the + mind? I tell you, sis, that the passions are born deaf—they never + listen to any argument. + </p> + <p> + “But I'm sorry for her—God knows I'm sorry for her! I'd give all I'm + worth to have a fair shot or clip at that rascal Stevens. Brother Stevens! + Ain't it monstrous, now, that a sheep's cover should be all that's + sufficient to give the wolf freedom in the flock?—that you've only + to say, 'This is a brother—a man of God'—and no proof is + asked! nobody questions! The blind, beastly, bigoted, blathering + blockheads! I feel very much like setting off straight, and licking John + Hinkley, though he's my own uncle, within an inch of his life! He and John + Cross—the old fools who are so eager to impose their notions of + religion upon everybody, that anybody may impose upon them—they two + have destroyed this poor young creature. It's at their door, in part, this + crime, and this ruin! I feel it in my heart to lick 'em both out of their + breeches! + </p> + <p> + “Yet, as I'm a living sinner, they'll stand up in the congregation, and + exhort about this poor girl's misfortune, just as if they were not to + blame at all who brought the wolf into the farmyard! They'll talk about + her sins, and not a word, to themselves or anybody else, about their own + stupidities! I feel it in my heart to lather both of them right away!” + </p> + <p> + The sister said little, and sorrowfully walked on in silence homeward, + listening to the fierce denunciations of Ned Hinkley. Ned was affected, + or, rather, he showed his sympathies, in a manner entirely his own. He was + so much for fight, that he totally forgot his fiddle that night, and + amused himself by putting his two “barking-pups” in order—getting + them ready, as he said, “in case he ever should get a crack at Brother + Stevens!” + </p> + <p> + The cares of the child's burial over, and the crowd dispersed, the cottage + of the widow Cooper was once more abandoned to the cheerlessness and wo + (sic) within. Very dismal was the night of that day to the two, the + foolish mother and wretched daughter, as they sat brooding together, in + deep silence, by the light of a feeble candle. The mother rocked a while + in her easy-chair. The daughter, hands clasped in her lap, sat watching + the candlelight in almost idiotic vacancy of gaze. At length she stood up + and spoke—slowly, deliberately, and apparently in as calm a mood as + she had ever felt in all her life:— + </p> + <p> + “We must leave this place, mother. We must go hence—to-morrow if we + can.” + </p> + <p> + “Go?—leave this place? I want to know why! I'm sure we're very + comfortable here. I can't be going just when you please, and leaving all + my company and friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Friends!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, friends! There's the widow Thackeray—and there's—” + </p> + <p> + “And how long is it since Mrs. Thackeray was such a dear friend, mother?” + asked the daughter, with ill-suppressed scorn. + </p> + <p> + “No matter how long: she's a good friend now. She's not so foolish as she + used to be. She's grown good; she's got religion; and I don't consider + what she was. No!—I'm willing—” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw, mother! tell me nothing of your friendships. You'll find, wherever + you go, as many friends as you please, valued quite as much as Mrs. + Thackeray.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do say, Margaret, it's very ungrateful of you to speak so + disrespectfully of Mrs. Thackeray, after all her kindness and attention.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not speak disrespectfully of Mrs. Thackeray. I NEVER did speak ill + of her, even when it was your favorite practice to do so. I only speak of + your newly-acquired appreciation of her. But this is nothing to the + purpose. I repeat, mother, we can not remain here. I will depart, whether + you resolve to go or not. I can not, I will not, exist another week in + Charlemont.” + </p> + <p> + “And where would you go?” + </p> + <p> + “Back—back to that old farm, from which you brought me in evil hour! + It is poor, obscure, profitless, unsought, unseen: it will give me a + shelter—it may bring me peace. I must have solitude for a season; I + must sleep for months.” + </p> + <p> + “Sleep for months! La me, child, what a notion's that!” + </p> + <p> + “No matter—thither let us go. I seem to see it, stretching out its + hands, and imploring us to come.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, Margaret! a farm stretching out its hands! Why, you're in a + dream!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't wake me, then! Better I should so dream! Thither I go. It is + fortunate that you have not been able to sell it. It is a mercy that it + still remains to us. It was my childhood's home. Would it could again + receive me as a child! It will cover my head for a while, at least, and + that is something. We must leave this place. Here every thing offends me—every + spot, every face, every look, every gesture.” + </p> + <p> + “It's impossible, Margaret!—” + </p> + <p> + “What! you suppose it an honorable distinction, do you, when the folks + here point to your daughter, and say—ha! ha!—listen what they + say! It is the language of compliment! They are doing me honor, with + tongue and finger! Repeat, mother; tell me what they say—for it + evidently gives you great pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “O Margaret! Margaret!—” + </p> + <p> + “You understand, do you? Well, then, we go. We can not depart too soon. If + I stay here, I madden! And I must not madden. I have something which needs + be done—which must be done. It is an oath! an oath in heaven! The + child was a witness. She heard all—every syllable!” + </p> + <p> + “What all? what did you hear?” + </p> + <p> + “No matter! I'm sworn to be secret. But you shall hear in time. We have no + time for it now. It is a very long story. And we must now be packing. Yes, + we must go. <i>I</i> must go, at least. Shall I go alone?” + </p> + <p> + “But you will not leave your mother, Margaret!” + </p> + <p> + “Father and mother—all will I leave, in obedience to that oath. + Believe me or not, mother—go with me or not—still I go. + Perhaps it is better that I should go alone.” + </p> + <p> + The strong will naturally swayed the feebler, as it had ever done before. + The mother submitted to an arrangement which she had not the resolution to + oppose. A few days were devoted to necessary arrangements, and then they + left Charlemont for ever. Margaret Cooper looked not once behind them as + they traversed the lonely hills looking down upon the village—those + very hills from which, at the opening of this story, the treacherous + Alfred Stevens and his simple uncle beheld the lovely little settlement. + She recognised the very spot, as they drove over it, where Stevens first + encountered her, and the busy demon, at her ears whispered:— + </p> + <p> + “It was here! You remember!” + </p> + <p> + And she clinched her teeth firmly together, even though she shuddered at + her memories; and she renewed her oath to the demon, who, thereupon, kept + her company the rest of the journey, till she reached the ancient and + obscure farmstead in which she was born. + </p> + <p> + “She retired,” says the rude chronicle from which we have borrowed many of + the materials for this sombre history, “to a romantic little farm in—-, + there to spend in seclusion, with her aged mother and a few servants, the + remainder of her days.” + </p> + <p> + Our simple chronicler takes too much for granted. Margaret Cooper retired + with no such purpose. She had purposes entirely at conflict with any idea + of repose or quiet. She thought nothing of the remainder of her days. Her + mother was not so aged but that she could still think, six months + afterward, of the reported marriage of the widow Thackeray with repining, + and with the feeling of one who thinks that she has suffered neglect and + injustice at the hands of the world. Touching the romance of the ancient + farmstead, we are more modestly content to describe it as sterile, lonely, + and unattractive; its obscurity offering, for the present, its chief + attractions to our desolate heroine, and the true occasion for that deep + disgust with which her amiable mother beheld it. + </p> + <p> + Our chronicle of Charlemont is ended. We have no further object or + interest within its precincts. William Hinkley is gone, no one knows + whither, followed by his adopted father, the retired lawyer, whose + sensibilities were fatal to his success. It was not long before Ned + Hinkley and his widowed sister found it their policy to depart also, + seeking superior objects in another county; and at this moment Charlemont + is an abandoned and deserted region. It seemed to decline from the moment + when the cruel catastrophe occurred which precipitated Margaret Cooper + from her pride of place. Beautiful as the village appeared at the opening + of our legend, it was doomed to as rapid a decay as growth. “Something + ails it now—the spot is cursed!” + </p> + <p> + But OUR history does not finally conclude with the fate of Charlemont. + That chronicle is required now to give place to another, in which we + propose to take up the sundered clues, and reunite them in a fresh + progress. We shall meet some of the old parties once more, in new + situations. We shall again meet with Margaret Cooper, in a new guise, + under other aspects, but still accompanied by her demon—still + inspired by her secret oath—still glowing with all the terrible + memories of the past—still laboring with unhallowed pride; and still + destined for a lark catastrophe. Our scene, however, lies in another + region, to which the reader, who has thus far kept pace with our progress, + is entreated still to accompany us. The chronicle of “CHARLEMONT” will + find its fitting sequel in that of “BEAUCHAMPE”—known proverbially + as “THE KENTUCKY TRAGEDY.” + </p> + <p> + END OF CHARLEMONT. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Charlemont, by W. 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